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crossoverficTitle: The Soul Has Bandaged Moments
Author: serendu
Summary: Harry Potter was 18 when he first stepped into Atlantis
Disclaimers: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing also Kawoosh! Productions and Gekko Film Corporation, and Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer Television. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Pairing: None
Author Notes: A chapter for all those who wanted it to be longer. Doesn’t mean I’m going to make it any less confusing though. My apologies for the delay, my office sent me to London – completely unplanned for two days.
I did intend to put in a timeline in these notes – but it took up way too much room – so for those still confused – the funeral is prior to him leaving for Atlantis.
Previous parts can be found here at my journal: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13
***
‘…I tell you – it must be genetic. Strong ATA gene – incredibly bad hair… I mean – have you seen the new agent? Wild hair – like Sheppard’s! If it wasn’t for the fact that they look nothing alike – I’d swear they were related! Rumour is that he’s a crazy fly-boy like Sheppard too…’
Harry grinned as he recognised the voice of one Doctor Rodney McKay and then heard a grunt of response from his companion. He stepped into the room that housed the Atlantis shooting range and leaned against the wall, waiting to see how long it would take for them to notice him. He nodded to the Sergeant who stood at the end of the room who also grinned briefly, rolled his eyes at McKay’s back and nodded back to him before resuming his stoic demeanour. Harry crossed his arms as he waited.
‘And then – Lorne was supposed to have been green!’ McKay declared. ‘I heard them say that he…’
‘Agent Potter.’
‘Specialist Ronon Dex.’ Harry replied, standing up straight and managing to keep a straight face at the sight of McKay becoming more and more flustered. ‘Doctor McKay.’
McKay nodded to him stiffly, before turning back to the range.
‘Sergeant. If you would.’ Harry said as he took up his position in the range checking his weapon.
Dex fired as Harry stood there going over his weapon with practised ease. He raised his eyes at the target which had once been in front of Dex. ‘Impressive.’ He commented as he saw what was left of the paper. ‘What’s the range?’
McKay started speaking before Dex could answer. ‘I find weapons practise to be a waste of my valuable time. I could be fixing the…’
‘McKay.’ Dex almost growled. ‘Sheppard wants you training.’
Harry noticed that McKay’s shoulders sank at that pronouncement. Harry winced as he watched McKay attempt to hit the target. Dex raised an eyebrow before gesturing to McKay where he went wrong. Harry frowned as once again McKay’s shots went wide. Then he mentally shrugged. It’s not really my problem. I’m pretty sure there are plenty of others to offer him advice on how to actually hit the target. He stepped up and took careful aim.
‘You see! He does it the same way as I do!’ McKay declared hotly gesturing at Harry.
Harry met Dex’s eyes, noting the exasperated expression lurking in them combined with the mirth on the surface. ‘Agent Potter? Could you show your results?’ He eventually asked, realising that McKay was not going to give up.
Harry nodded and showed his target. All his rounds had landed exactly where he had intended. A perfect example of how lethal I can be. He noted with satisfaction of a job well done. Then he noticed McKay’s expression. ‘It’s practice Doctor McKay.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s what I’m good at – I couldn’t do half the things that you do. But this is what I can do…’
‘Well of course you couldn’t do what I do!’ McKay replied hotly. ‘I’m a genius! I should be…’
Harry found himself rolling his eyes at McKay again. If I don’t say something – I get the feeling he’ll never shut up! ‘Precisely Doctor – but you had to learn the basics first right? If you hadn’t learnt those – you wouldn’t be able to do what it is you do now. It’s the same with these.’ He said, gesturing at the weapon McKay still held; with the safety on thank Merlin! Harry noted. ‘You need to practise – a lot. That’s basically it.’ He smirked, ‘Well, that and a good motivation – some people use the target for visualising their targets as exactly like what we practise aiming at. Others prefer a different way of doing it.’ He looked at Dex. ‘I guess for you it’s the wraith right?’ He asked.
Dex slowly nodded once.
‘Right – well for Specialist Dex – he’s learned how to use that motivation for ensuring he’s going to practice – because he’s got something to motivate him. I’m sure the Sergeant has something too.’ The Sergeant nodded. He shrugged. ‘Like I said - that’s basically it.’
Harry turned back to the range and set up for another round.
McKay turned back to the range with Dex. He repositioned himself as Dex was originally suggesting. He was about to take aim when he stopped and watched Harry for a second before speaking. ‘Agent Potter?’
‘Yes?’
‘Who do you visualise? To motivate you?’
Harry didn’t pause. ‘Who do I see as the target you mean?’
‘Well… Yes.’
‘My old headmaster.’
Every shot of Harry’s hit it’s mark.
***
Ragnak adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat as they waited for the wills to be brought in. Finally after a good thirty minutes the door opened to allow a much younger looking goblin into the room carrying under his arm three heavy wooden boxes.
‘The wills of Potter, Potter and Black – as requested.’ He announced placing the boxes onto Ragnak’s table.
Ragnak pressed his bony hand onto the Gringotts seal on top of each of the boxes. The opened automatically, with large scrolls of paper unfurling from each and hovering in front of Ragnak. All Jack, Harry and Alan could see were the backs of the heavy vellum scrolls and a number of ribbons attached to the bottom of each of the scrolls.
‘As you can see - these are signed and sealed by the aforementioned Potters and Lord Black.’ Ragnak stated gesturing to the ribbons.
The scrolls moved to a position in between Harry and his friends and Ragnak so all in the room could see the encrusted wax seals and ribbons clearly before whizzing back to face Ragnak so he could read them aloud.
‘I shall start with the will of your father Mr Potter as I believe he was the first of the three to become deceased.’
***
‘Come in Agent Potter.’ A weary looking Agent Smythe said. ‘Take a seat.’
Harry sat down opposite Smythe in his office, still in his black suit, although the tie was loosened and the jacket unbuttoned. After sitting down, he rubbed his hands through his hair, his distress clearly evident.
‘Neal. Tea for two please. Hot and sweet.’ Smythe said, pressing the button to call his aide.
Silence reigned for a few minutes, only broken by Neal entering with a tray with two cups of tea and a plate full of chocolate biscuits.
‘Tea Potter.’ Smythe said, gesturing at the cup on the table near Harry.
‘No thank you sir.’
‘It wasn’t a question Potter. Drink it.’
Harry picked up the cup from the saucer and began to drink. Then the cup in his hands began to shake, seconds later Harry put it back on the table. Then he clasped his hands tightly, trying to stop the trembling. ‘I can’t sir.’
Smythe opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a small bottle of whisky. He opened the top and then poured a generous amount into Harry’s teacup. ‘Drink it.’
Harry reached for his cup and held it loosely in his two hands. Gradually he sipped the tea and whisky until it was cool enough to drink. He finished the cup and then replaced it onto the saucer.
Smythe pulled out two shot glasses. He poured whisky into them both before passing one to Harry. ‘Do you want to tell me what happened at the Wake?’
Harry visibly shuddered. ‘Hermione… Was there – at the funeral that is. She… I saw her in the cemetery after. We went on to the White Hart. We talked. I called you. Then we went back to her parent’s house.’ He stopped and raised his bloodshot eyes to Smythe. ‘There was only rubble left.’ He gulped and closed his eyes for a moment before staring across the table at Smythe. ‘And a Dark Mark floating above the rubble.’
‘And Miss Granger?’
‘Sedated. I got her out of there as quickly as I could.’ He stood up abruptly and started pacing. ‘Damn it! Voldemort is dead! Why the hell are they targeting Hermione now? Her parents were dentists. What the hell were they going to do?’ He turned to Smythe and slammed his hands down on the desk in front of him in an attempt to control his rage. ‘I want to know why.’
Smythe leant back in his chair. He gazed up at Harry who was still leaning on the table, but now his head hung down, looking at his hands in defeat.
‘Hermione was the first person who understood me. She’s my best friend – better than Ron.’ He snorted. ‘Ron’s a great friend – but he doesn’t think. He doesn’t always understand. Hermione – well – she follows the rules – but she can think outside the box too. Ron doesn’t seem to be able to think at all sometimes. Unless its chess. Or quidditch. He never got that I didn’t want to be famous. He always envied me that. Hermione knew who I was – but she saw the downside of fame. Especially in the fourth year when Rita Skeeter was writing about me.’ He finally looked back up at Smythe. ‘Hermione’s like a member of my family. And they’ve murdered her family. I want to know why.’
Smythe nodded. ‘I’ll make the call.’
***
‘Did I ever tell you how I ended up in that secret facility?’ Jack asked a morose Harry sitting in his flat. ‘I was all set for High School again. Did a couple of terms… Then they found me. No idea who admitted there was me in that school – but next thing I know – I’m shipped off to that facility. I lost five months there.’ He looked over at Harry who hadn’t moved from his chair for the entire visit. ‘If you hadn’t turned up when you did – I would never have made it out. At least – not alive. Want another beer?’ He got up and waited for Harry to acknowledge him. ‘Hey!’ He kicked Harry’s legs. ‘Beer?’
‘Don’t have beer.’ Harry’s voice sounded rusty from misuse.
Jack frowned and made his way to the fridge. ‘What do you call all this then?’ He asked holding out a bottle he had taken from inside the fridge.
Harry smirked. ‘Lager.’
‘Ha ha. Mr Comedian.’
Harry turned away ignoring Jack’s attempts to lighten the mood. Eventually Jack sat back down opposite Harry, handed a bottle to him and sipped his drink.
‘How’s your friend?’ Jack asked softly.
Harry snorted. ‘Bad.’ He drank some of his drink. ‘I took her back to Grimmauld Place.’
‘And?’
‘And the Order members who I saw told me they didn’t have time for her. Then they stunned me and called Dumbledore.’
‘And then?’
‘We had a…. frank discussion.’
‘Go on…’
‘Hermione had woken up by then, she interrupted the two of us. Told us she was leaving the Wizarding world for now and that she might not be back.’ He snorted. ‘It was as though they never even cared. She’s thought to be the most brilliant witch of her generation and they can’t get past the fact that her parents were muggles. I thought it was bad that Snape always judged me by comparing me to my father – Hermione has it far worse.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I’m just glad she didn’t say that she was leaving for good. I don’t know what would have happened if she had – just that it would have been bad.’
‘Bad as in…’
‘Bad as in never able to return or speak about it – wand broken… Ask Smythe sometime.’
Jack frowned. ‘Won’t that affect you?’
‘No actually – courtesy of my parents… Well, my father at least – he was a pureblood – so the rules regarding muggleborns don’t count for me. I can come and go as I please.’ His face darkened. ‘And no matter how much I may want to be gone – they’ll always be able to get hold of me – somehow – I can renounce them and live like a muggle forever, but they can always try and track me – scrying, spells, whatever…’
Jack pondered that for a moment before speaking. ‘How come it took so long for them to find you then?’
‘Ahh. I asked Smythe about that – he said as I’d voluntarily signed up for the R.A.F. and then MI5 they couldn’t really track me because of the number of people around – plus the Ministry of Magic and the muggle Prime Minister have in the past signed treaties regarding the muggle armed forces.’ He grinned. ‘Probably the best thing that has ever happened to me thanks to a treaty that Fudge had to enforce. Any wizard or witch who legally signs up of their own free will must be kept free from Wizarding interference – because of the power that they can ultimately yield. As such – as long as I had done so of my own free will no one could touch me…’ He trailed off. ‘But Dumbledore has always thought himself above the law.’ He smiled bitterly. ‘I let down my guard and made a mistake. My mistake was being seen by Bill Weasley.’
***
Questions comments and thoughts?
Author: serendu
Summary: Harry Potter was 18 when he first stepped into Atlantis
Disclaimers: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing also Kawoosh! Productions and Gekko Film Corporation, and Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer Television. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Pairing: None
Author Notes: A chapter for all those who wanted it to be longer. Doesn’t mean I’m going to make it any less confusing though. My apologies for the delay, my office sent me to London – completely unplanned for two days.
I did intend to put in a timeline in these notes – but it took up way too much room – so for those still confused – the funeral is prior to him leaving for Atlantis.
Previous parts can be found here at my journal: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13
***
‘…I tell you – it must be genetic. Strong ATA gene – incredibly bad hair… I mean – have you seen the new agent? Wild hair – like Sheppard’s! If it wasn’t for the fact that they look nothing alike – I’d swear they were related! Rumour is that he’s a crazy fly-boy like Sheppard too…’
Harry grinned as he recognised the voice of one Doctor Rodney McKay and then heard a grunt of response from his companion. He stepped into the room that housed the Atlantis shooting range and leaned against the wall, waiting to see how long it would take for them to notice him. He nodded to the Sergeant who stood at the end of the room who also grinned briefly, rolled his eyes at McKay’s back and nodded back to him before resuming his stoic demeanour. Harry crossed his arms as he waited.
‘And then – Lorne was supposed to have been green!’ McKay declared. ‘I heard them say that he…’
‘Agent Potter.’
‘Specialist Ronon Dex.’ Harry replied, standing up straight and managing to keep a straight face at the sight of McKay becoming more and more flustered. ‘Doctor McKay.’
McKay nodded to him stiffly, before turning back to the range.
‘Sergeant. If you would.’ Harry said as he took up his position in the range checking his weapon.
Dex fired as Harry stood there going over his weapon with practised ease. He raised his eyes at the target which had once been in front of Dex. ‘Impressive.’ He commented as he saw what was left of the paper. ‘What’s the range?’
McKay started speaking before Dex could answer. ‘I find weapons practise to be a waste of my valuable time. I could be fixing the…’
‘McKay.’ Dex almost growled. ‘Sheppard wants you training.’
Harry noticed that McKay’s shoulders sank at that pronouncement. Harry winced as he watched McKay attempt to hit the target. Dex raised an eyebrow before gesturing to McKay where he went wrong. Harry frowned as once again McKay’s shots went wide. Then he mentally shrugged. It’s not really my problem. I’m pretty sure there are plenty of others to offer him advice on how to actually hit the target. He stepped up and took careful aim.
‘You see! He does it the same way as I do!’ McKay declared hotly gesturing at Harry.
Harry met Dex’s eyes, noting the exasperated expression lurking in them combined with the mirth on the surface. ‘Agent Potter? Could you show your results?’ He eventually asked, realising that McKay was not going to give up.
Harry nodded and showed his target. All his rounds had landed exactly where he had intended. A perfect example of how lethal I can be. He noted with satisfaction of a job well done. Then he noticed McKay’s expression. ‘It’s practice Doctor McKay.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s what I’m good at – I couldn’t do half the things that you do. But this is what I can do…’
‘Well of course you couldn’t do what I do!’ McKay replied hotly. ‘I’m a genius! I should be…’
Harry found himself rolling his eyes at McKay again. If I don’t say something – I get the feeling he’ll never shut up! ‘Precisely Doctor – but you had to learn the basics first right? If you hadn’t learnt those – you wouldn’t be able to do what it is you do now. It’s the same with these.’ He said, gesturing at the weapon McKay still held; with the safety on thank Merlin! Harry noted. ‘You need to practise – a lot. That’s basically it.’ He smirked, ‘Well, that and a good motivation – some people use the target for visualising their targets as exactly like what we practise aiming at. Others prefer a different way of doing it.’ He looked at Dex. ‘I guess for you it’s the wraith right?’ He asked.
Dex slowly nodded once.
‘Right – well for Specialist Dex – he’s learned how to use that motivation for ensuring he’s going to practice – because he’s got something to motivate him. I’m sure the Sergeant has something too.’ The Sergeant nodded. He shrugged. ‘Like I said - that’s basically it.’
Harry turned back to the range and set up for another round.
McKay turned back to the range with Dex. He repositioned himself as Dex was originally suggesting. He was about to take aim when he stopped and watched Harry for a second before speaking. ‘Agent Potter?’
‘Yes?’
‘Who do you visualise? To motivate you?’
Harry didn’t pause. ‘Who do I see as the target you mean?’
‘Well… Yes.’
‘My old headmaster.’
Every shot of Harry’s hit it’s mark.
***
Ragnak adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat as they waited for the wills to be brought in. Finally after a good thirty minutes the door opened to allow a much younger looking goblin into the room carrying under his arm three heavy wooden boxes.
‘The wills of Potter, Potter and Black – as requested.’ He announced placing the boxes onto Ragnak’s table.
Ragnak pressed his bony hand onto the Gringotts seal on top of each of the boxes. The opened automatically, with large scrolls of paper unfurling from each and hovering in front of Ragnak. All Jack, Harry and Alan could see were the backs of the heavy vellum scrolls and a number of ribbons attached to the bottom of each of the scrolls.
‘As you can see - these are signed and sealed by the aforementioned Potters and Lord Black.’ Ragnak stated gesturing to the ribbons.
The scrolls moved to a position in between Harry and his friends and Ragnak so all in the room could see the encrusted wax seals and ribbons clearly before whizzing back to face Ragnak so he could read them aloud.
‘I shall start with the will of your father Mr Potter as I believe he was the first of the three to become deceased.’
***
‘Come in Agent Potter.’ A weary looking Agent Smythe said. ‘Take a seat.’
Harry sat down opposite Smythe in his office, still in his black suit, although the tie was loosened and the jacket unbuttoned. After sitting down, he rubbed his hands through his hair, his distress clearly evident.
‘Neal. Tea for two please. Hot and sweet.’ Smythe said, pressing the button to call his aide.
Silence reigned for a few minutes, only broken by Neal entering with a tray with two cups of tea and a plate full of chocolate biscuits.
‘Tea Potter.’ Smythe said, gesturing at the cup on the table near Harry.
‘No thank you sir.’
‘It wasn’t a question Potter. Drink it.’
Harry picked up the cup from the saucer and began to drink. Then the cup in his hands began to shake, seconds later Harry put it back on the table. Then he clasped his hands tightly, trying to stop the trembling. ‘I can’t sir.’
Smythe opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a small bottle of whisky. He opened the top and then poured a generous amount into Harry’s teacup. ‘Drink it.’
Harry reached for his cup and held it loosely in his two hands. Gradually he sipped the tea and whisky until it was cool enough to drink. He finished the cup and then replaced it onto the saucer.
Smythe pulled out two shot glasses. He poured whisky into them both before passing one to Harry. ‘Do you want to tell me what happened at the Wake?’
Harry visibly shuddered. ‘Hermione… Was there – at the funeral that is. She… I saw her in the cemetery after. We went on to the White Hart. We talked. I called you. Then we went back to her parent’s house.’ He stopped and raised his bloodshot eyes to Smythe. ‘There was only rubble left.’ He gulped and closed his eyes for a moment before staring across the table at Smythe. ‘And a Dark Mark floating above the rubble.’
‘And Miss Granger?’
‘Sedated. I got her out of there as quickly as I could.’ He stood up abruptly and started pacing. ‘Damn it! Voldemort is dead! Why the hell are they targeting Hermione now? Her parents were dentists. What the hell were they going to do?’ He turned to Smythe and slammed his hands down on the desk in front of him in an attempt to control his rage. ‘I want to know why.’
Smythe leant back in his chair. He gazed up at Harry who was still leaning on the table, but now his head hung down, looking at his hands in defeat.
‘Hermione was the first person who understood me. She’s my best friend – better than Ron.’ He snorted. ‘Ron’s a great friend – but he doesn’t think. He doesn’t always understand. Hermione – well – she follows the rules – but she can think outside the box too. Ron doesn’t seem to be able to think at all sometimes. Unless its chess. Or quidditch. He never got that I didn’t want to be famous. He always envied me that. Hermione knew who I was – but she saw the downside of fame. Especially in the fourth year when Rita Skeeter was writing about me.’ He finally looked back up at Smythe. ‘Hermione’s like a member of my family. And they’ve murdered her family. I want to know why.’
Smythe nodded. ‘I’ll make the call.’
***
‘Did I ever tell you how I ended up in that secret facility?’ Jack asked a morose Harry sitting in his flat. ‘I was all set for High School again. Did a couple of terms… Then they found me. No idea who admitted there was me in that school – but next thing I know – I’m shipped off to that facility. I lost five months there.’ He looked over at Harry who hadn’t moved from his chair for the entire visit. ‘If you hadn’t turned up when you did – I would never have made it out. At least – not alive. Want another beer?’ He got up and waited for Harry to acknowledge him. ‘Hey!’ He kicked Harry’s legs. ‘Beer?’
‘Don’t have beer.’ Harry’s voice sounded rusty from misuse.
Jack frowned and made his way to the fridge. ‘What do you call all this then?’ He asked holding out a bottle he had taken from inside the fridge.
Harry smirked. ‘Lager.’
‘Ha ha. Mr Comedian.’
Harry turned away ignoring Jack’s attempts to lighten the mood. Eventually Jack sat back down opposite Harry, handed a bottle to him and sipped his drink.
‘How’s your friend?’ Jack asked softly.
Harry snorted. ‘Bad.’ He drank some of his drink. ‘I took her back to Grimmauld Place.’
‘And?’
‘And the Order members who I saw told me they didn’t have time for her. Then they stunned me and called Dumbledore.’
‘And then?’
‘We had a…. frank discussion.’
‘Go on…’
‘Hermione had woken up by then, she interrupted the two of us. Told us she was leaving the Wizarding world for now and that she might not be back.’ He snorted. ‘It was as though they never even cared. She’s thought to be the most brilliant witch of her generation and they can’t get past the fact that her parents were muggles. I thought it was bad that Snape always judged me by comparing me to my father – Hermione has it far worse.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I’m just glad she didn’t say that she was leaving for good. I don’t know what would have happened if she had – just that it would have been bad.’
‘Bad as in…’
‘Bad as in never able to return or speak about it – wand broken… Ask Smythe sometime.’
Jack frowned. ‘Won’t that affect you?’
‘No actually – courtesy of my parents… Well, my father at least – he was a pureblood – so the rules regarding muggleborns don’t count for me. I can come and go as I please.’ His face darkened. ‘And no matter how much I may want to be gone – they’ll always be able to get hold of me – somehow – I can renounce them and live like a muggle forever, but they can always try and track me – scrying, spells, whatever…’
Jack pondered that for a moment before speaking. ‘How come it took so long for them to find you then?’
‘Ahh. I asked Smythe about that – he said as I’d voluntarily signed up for the R.A.F. and then MI5 they couldn’t really track me because of the number of people around – plus the Ministry of Magic and the muggle Prime Minister have in the past signed treaties regarding the muggle armed forces.’ He grinned. ‘Probably the best thing that has ever happened to me thanks to a treaty that Fudge had to enforce. Any wizard or witch who legally signs up of their own free will must be kept free from Wizarding interference – because of the power that they can ultimately yield. As such – as long as I had done so of my own free will no one could touch me…’ He trailed off. ‘But Dumbledore has always thought himself above the law.’ He smiled bitterly. ‘I let down my guard and made a mistake. My mistake was being seen by Bill Weasley.’
***
Questions comments and thoughts?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-10-30 04:27 am (UTC)...though I still like to know who the funeral was for:}..and why they are turning on people and if they do seem to want to screw up any chance for Harry to ever return when Voldies horcrux's come into play again
The British Wizardring world is crumbling...
PGA
no subject
Date: 2006-10-30 08:06 am (UTC)The will reading is before. *smirks*
if after, and after the events at no 12 then if he gets ownership, they are all out on their arses (the order that is)..this looks to be fun times for a lot of people hopefully...
Ahhh. Now that would be telling - although I will say - part of Harry's encounter at no. 12 is already written.
...though I still like to know who the funeral was for:}..and why they are turning on people and if they do seem to want to screw up any chance for Harry to ever return when Voldies horcrux's come into play again
I've never considered the wizarding world to be particularly sensible when it comes to Harry... As to the horcruxes... Well - that would be telling.
Thank you for the review!