Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Unlikely
Chapter five: The Girl Who Spoke Science
April 9th, 1997
Harry looked down both ends of the hallway twice before she turned to speak to the portrait in front of her. “Gurdyroot extract till green, stir till orange, seven wiggentree twigs, simmer till pink,” she repeated. The gangly, bespectacled man in the portrait took a moment to consult the paper in his hands, and then the portrait and its frame slid away to reveal a tunnel that sloped gently upward.
It was not at all the path to the Headmaster’s office as she was familiar with it, but everyone had their different tastes, she supposed.
Snape was nearly entirely hidden behind the stacks of paper on his desk. Many things may have changed from her world to this, but the ceaseless onrush of paperwork didn’t seem to be one of them.
“The portraits sent word that you had called for me.”
He was silent for another minute, until he signed the document he was looking at and set it at the top of a stack that was, she was sure both of them felt, not nearly tall enough. The corners of his mouth curved, barely, and then the motion was gone like sand blown away in the wind.
“Your stun baton has arrived, Miss Potter,” Snape said, and she noted that he was continuing to use the more formal term of address as he had ever since she had gone to a private room to sleep. Evidently, he had thought it improper to be familiar with a girl that he had known for only a few days, even if she possessed the body of someone that he was much closer to. Or perhaps even because of it.
Perhaps the appellation “Miss” served to remind him that she was not who her face declared her to be.
“Thank you, sir.” Harry, for her part, had decided to be formal as well if that was what he wished. She still refused to call him her Headmaster, however, but Snape appeared to be content with “Professor” and “sir.” Perhaps it was too much speculation to make on such limited interaction, but she wasn’t sure that he liked the title as it was.
The box appeared in her lap with a jab of his wand. She held its sides thoughtfully. “I wish that I could have made my own, but it’ll probably be more reliable than something of my own make. After all, I pretty much just have an idea of the basic principles involved.”
“Yes. The principles. You mentioned something called ‘blue science,’ did you not? While I’m sure that Filius will regret not being present for it, would you be able to explain to me what that is?”
“Blue science came after Grindelwald’s war unified the worlds,” Harry explained, and Snape nodded in response. The war, and the turns it had taken in her world, had apparently proven capable of animating even the venerable— intangible— Professor Binns, and at least some of the specifics had evidently been passed on to Snape. “Electric technology isn’t wholly incompatible with magic. It’s really sensitive, though, like…” She thought about how to explain it. “Like channeling too much water through a pipe too small.”
“Or too much electricity through a channel,” Snape said. “I knew what a stun baton was. I know how electricity works.”
“Right,” she replied sheepishly. “But that’s Ekayanayake’s Third Law: ‘Any sufficiently advanced spell can be integrated with electric technology.’ Sort of… because magic is similar to electricity in some way. I guess? That’s how it was explained to me. Anyway, it’s a problem of how you apply the magic, and the more advanced the technology the more sensitive it is, but in theory there’s no upper limit to integration, and so you get blue science.”
“Which is the art of fusing these two disciplines.”
“Exactly.”
“What do you plan on doing with your stun baton?” Snape asked. “Or electric wand, as you called it.”
“Hogwarts’ wards here wouldn’t have been adapted for blue science, so the first thing that I need to do is craft some general protections for it. Then I’ll have to design some pathways to channel my magic through it without burning it out. But then, so long as I can make physical contact, the combination of magic and electricity can enhance the power of whatever spell I choose to cast. So long as it’s not too powerful, anyway. I’m not the best at layering these enchantments.”
“While I am not averse to giving you means to defend yourself with which you are familiar, you know, do you not, that we will not be intentionally putting you in situations where that is necessary?”
“Professor Snape. Sir,” she added after some thought. “I do not think that you understand. I am Harry Potter. The equipment between my legs is a little strange to me at the moment, but I am a daughter of Britain. And when I have gone from Hogwarts’ blessed halls it will be to vow the vows of a knight of Merlin’s order. Bound to the lands of Britain, and the government thereof, and the people thereof, and shame on him who thinks evil of it.”
She set the box in her hands aside and stood. “Bound and bound to protect these things, and if I shirk the vows here and now then how can I be trusted to ever hold true to them?”
“But this isn’t your world.”
“I can recite the vows for you line by line, Professor Snape, but not a single one makes any distinction between ‘my’ Britain and ‘your’ Britain,’ but they all declare my obligations to Britain only. Yours, mine, and every Britain, wherever the sun’s light may fall on her.”
Snape’s expression was unreadable.
“I can admire your display,” he finally said. “And I would do well to remember that our worlds have no small number of differences.” He looked at his paperwork. “I do not think that my paperwork would complain if it was left to itself for now, and you demonstrated your abilities. We will determine your role in our war from there.”
“I can accept that.”
April 9th, 1997
Harry looked down both ends of the hallway twice before she turned to speak to the portrait in front of her. “Gurdyroot extract till green, stir till orange, seven wiggentree twigs, simmer till pink,” she repeated. The gangly, bespectacled man in the portrait took a moment to consult the paper in his hands, and then the portrait and its frame slid away to reveal a tunnel that sloped gently upward.
It was not at all the path to the Headmaster’s office as she was familiar with it, but everyone had their different tastes, she supposed.
Snape was nearly entirely hidden behind the stacks of paper on his desk. Many things may have changed from her world to this, but the ceaseless onrush of paperwork didn’t seem to be one of them.
“The portraits sent word that you had called for me.”
He was silent for another minute, until he signed the document he was looking at and set it at the top of a stack that was, she was sure both of them felt, not nearly tall enough. The corners of his mouth curved, barely, and then the motion was gone like sand blown away in the wind.
“Your stun baton has arrived, Miss Potter,” Snape said, and she noted that he was continuing to use the more formal term of address as he had ever since she had gone to a private room to sleep. Evidently, he had thought it improper to be familiar with a girl that he had known for only a few days, even if she possessed the body of someone that he was much closer to. Or perhaps even because of it.
Perhaps the appellation “Miss” served to remind him that she was not who her face declared her to be.
“Thank you, sir.” Harry, for her part, had decided to be formal as well if that was what he wished. She still refused to call him her Headmaster, however, but Snape appeared to be content with “Professor” and “sir.” Perhaps it was too much speculation to make on such limited interaction, but she wasn’t sure that he liked the title as it was.
The box appeared in her lap with a jab of his wand. She held its sides thoughtfully. “I wish that I could have made my own, but it’ll probably be more reliable than something of my own make. After all, I pretty much just have an idea of the basic principles involved.”
“Yes. The principles. You mentioned something called ‘blue science,’ did you not? While I’m sure that Filius will regret not being present for it, would you be able to explain to me what that is?”
“Blue science came after Grindelwald’s war unified the worlds,” Harry explained, and Snape nodded in response. The war, and the turns it had taken in her world, had apparently proven capable of animating even the venerable— intangible— Professor Binns, and at least some of the specifics had evidently been passed on to Snape. “Electric technology isn’t wholly incompatible with magic. It’s really sensitive, though, like…” She thought about how to explain it. “Like channeling too much water through a pipe too small.”
“Or too much electricity through a channel,” Snape said. “I knew what a stun baton was. I know how electricity works.”
“Right,” she replied sheepishly. “But that’s Ekayanayake’s Third Law: ‘Any sufficiently advanced spell can be integrated with electric technology.’ Sort of… because magic is similar to electricity in some way. I guess? That’s how it was explained to me. Anyway, it’s a problem of how you apply the magic, and the more advanced the technology the more sensitive it is, but in theory there’s no upper limit to integration, and so you get blue science.”
“Which is the art of fusing these two disciplines.”
“Exactly.”
“What do you plan on doing with your stun baton?” Snape asked. “Or electric wand, as you called it.”
“Hogwarts’ wards here wouldn’t have been adapted for blue science, so the first thing that I need to do is craft some general protections for it. Then I’ll have to design some pathways to channel my magic through it without burning it out. But then, so long as I can make physical contact, the combination of magic and electricity can enhance the power of whatever spell I choose to cast. So long as it’s not too powerful, anyway. I’m not the best at layering these enchantments.”
“While I am not averse to giving you means to defend yourself with which you are familiar, you know, do you not, that we will not be intentionally putting you in situations where that is necessary?”
“Professor Snape. Sir,” she added after some thought. “I do not think that you understand. I am Harry Potter. The equipment between my legs is a little strange to me at the moment, but I am a daughter of Britain. And when I have gone from Hogwarts’ blessed halls it will be to vow the vows of a knight of Merlin’s order. Bound to the lands of Britain, and the government thereof, and the people thereof, and shame on him who thinks evil of it.”
She set the box in her hands aside and stood. “Bound and bound to protect these things, and if I shirk the vows here and now then how can I be trusted to ever hold true to them?”
“But this isn’t your world.”
“I can recite the vows for you line by line, Professor Snape, but not a single one makes any distinction between ‘my’ Britain and ‘your’ Britain,’ but they all declare my obligations to Britain only. Yours, mine, and every Britain, wherever the sun’s light may fall on her.”
Snape’s expression was unreadable.
“I can admire your display,” he finally said. “And I would do well to remember that our worlds have no small number of differences.” He looked at his paperwork. “I do not think that my paperwork would complain if it was left to itself for now, and you demonstrated your abilities. We will determine your role in our war from there.”
“I can accept that.”
Sign up to rate and review this story