FicWad

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Star Trek. For that matter, I don't own much of anything except a lot of debt. If I could claim the two series and all their spin-offs, I would. So please don't sic the law demons on me ok?


Chapter 9: Discovery

"YOU'RE HIM!!"

"Hwwaah???" said Harry. He had not been expecting that type of reaction from Hui regarding his birthday.

"You're HARRY POTTER! The-Boy-Who-Lived-And-Vanished!" Hui exclaimed again loudly.

Harry looked around the bar and the few patrons that were there had all stopped eating and were staring at Harry with gobsmacked expressions on their faces.

Harry smacked his hand to his forehead and just muttered, "I thought I had finally ditched that name."

"Why didn't you tell me you're Harry Potter?" Hui was still excited but had lowered her voice.

The other patrons had gone back to their meals, but were chattering excitedly and gesturing towards Harry and Hui's table.

Harry just shook his head. He was still in shock over Hui's reaction to his name and hadn't really processed the rest of her statements. "I did tell you I'm Harry Potter. I thought I did that back when we started out on Saturday."

"Well, yeah, you did, but you said you were Harry Potter, not HARRY POTTER," said Hui as if that explained everything.

"I don't see what tha…" Harry stopped in mid sentence. Her reaction to his name and the other customers' subsequent reactions registered like a two-by-four in his consciousness.

"Hang on. You're a witch!" exclaimed Harry. He had realized that the only people that would have known about that Boy-Who-Lived moniker were witches, wizards and squibs.

"No shit, Sherlock. So is everyone here."

"Where the bloody hell have you guys been hiding? I've been looking for witches and wizards since I got here." He was ecstatic about having finally found some magical people but wanted to know why they hadn't sent anyone when he was overpowering his spells trying to attract attention.

"What do you mean hiding? We've been looking for you for damn near three hundred years, Harry." Hui was confused by his statement.

"Look, when I got back to Earth, I tried everything I could to signal any Aurors or people in charge that I was around, without breaking the Statute of Secrecy and I got diddly-squat." Harry wasn't mad in any way, but desperate for answers.

Mickey sat down next to Hui. "Harry, there are no Aurors these days. There's really not anyone around keeping an eye out for magic anymore. Now, before everything goes all pear-shaped, let's see if we can figure out what happened and fill in the blanks."

He stood up and announced to the bar. "OK everybody, if you got plans for the day, you may want to cancel them. Harry Potter is back and we have a mystery on our hands. Gather 'round and lets see if we can figure out what the hell happened."

HPSTTOSHPSTTOSHPSTTOSHPSTTOSHPSTTOSHPSTTOSHPSTTOSHPSTTOS

There were only six other people in the bar that could contribute to the conversation. The Lee's were a young couple with two small children. There was also an elderly couple in their 80's named the Morans. The two single patrons were Jake Bolton, a younger man that worked overnights, and Sally Franklin, a middle aged woman who had stopped by for breakfast before going into her office to do some work. As necessary, they called who they needed to and canceled their plans for the day.

After everyone had settled in around Harry, Mickey spoke up. "Harry, why don't you go first? If you tell us what happened from your point of view, that should allow us to figure out what you already know, so we don't repeat things."

"Alright, well, it all started at the end of my fifth year at Hogwarts....." Harry began his tale. He went over the fight in the Department of Mysteries and the accident with the time sand. He was very careful to edit out the pieces dealing with the Guardian, as no one there had the clearance to know about that. He went on to explain that he had done his level best to protect the secret of the wizarding world and maintain the Statute of Secrecy. As far as he knew, he had been successful and Starfleet thought he was the only person in existence with his abilities. Continuing on, he explained how he had begun trying to signal any magical authorities when he arrived at Starfleet Medical and continued at the Kirk farm in Iowa. He finished off his story with his investigations in England and their results.

As he finished Hui exclaimed, "Are you nuts!?! Nobody goes to England unless they have a death wish. Any witch or wizard leaves there as soon as they can. That place is cursed." There was a shocked look on her face. The rest of the patrons echoed her sentiment in overlapping expressions of dismay. As far as anyone present knew, every witch or wizard that had gone to England after the nuclear holocaust to investigate had come back with a persuasive feeing of evil and flat out refused to go again. No one magical had been there in over a century, as far as they knew. Yet here was a young man that had been there on three different occasions and had gotten closer than anyone since WWIII to one of the preeminent centers of magical learning from before the war.

Harry looked at the small gathering around him. "I don't think it's cursed, I think there's a repelling ward up, or something like it. It was just mild uneasiness when I first got there, but it flared big time when I did any magic. It got worse as we got closer to Hogwarts, right up until I hit that barrier a few miles from the castle. I wouldn't be surprised if there are even nastier wards closer in."

"Well," Mickey sighed, "that certainly explains what happened and where you've been. I think between all of us here, we can fill the gap between when you had your accident and now. Hey TONY! Come out here for a moment, will ya?"

A moment later a House Elf popped into the middle of the gathering. Harry stared open mouthed at the oddly dressed creature. Tony was dressed like a fry cook and sported an enormous chef's hat on his head.

"You'se called me Mr. Mickeys sirs?" asked the little creature.

"Tony, can you refresh everyone's drinks and prepare some snacks? Make sure the kids get something that they'll like, and some coloring books, alright?" Mickey asked the House Elf.

"Yes sirs, Mr. Mickeys sirs," replied the elf and popped out of the room.

Harry blinked as the elf left. "A House Elf? That's the first one I've seen since I left my own time. Mickey, what happened to the elves? My friend Hermione was really against House Elf slavery. Is he…"

"Oh, good lord no. There never were very many elves in the States, and we abolished that slavery business with them centuries before the War. Not too many of those prissy purebloods came to the Colonies, after all; it was mostly the Muggleborn, half-and-halfs, and a few younger sons with no chance to inherit. The elves in Europe, well, when everything went to hell, a lot of them died when their masters did, or soon thereafter. A lot of them weren't capable of coping with freedom after the loss of their masters."

Harry nodded, remembering Winky.

"The ones that didn't die, they went and moved to places that would have them. For the most part, Eastern Europe, the Mediterranean and the States took in a lot of refugee elves. They assimilated themselves into the remaining wizarding populations. There still aren't too many, but there are three that work here and they are all well paid.

Harry pondered this for a moment. Hermione would have been happy that there were no more elf slaves. Hang on....

"Remaining wizarding population? What do you mean by that?"

Mickey sighed and the others just shook their heads.

"Harry, after you vanished, things went downhill pretty quickly. From what we know, Voldemoat managed to take over in England within about five years. Most Muggleborn and half-bloods left as soon as they could; those that didn't were subjected to harassment at best, and many faced torture and death. It was open season on squibs, Muggleborns and half-bloods. It was worse for those who were, say, part Veela or Giant. As far as the Purebloods and Voldemoat were concerned, they were no better than animals.

"A Pureblood family was fine as long as they followed his party line. Those that didn't were harassed, lost jobs and so on. Eventually, I'd say roughly five, maybe ten percent of the purebloods left. At the time, people were being told, and most believed, that you were out in the world somewhere training to take on the racist bastards in charge. When you didn't show up after a few years, people started to believe you were dead. Very few actually knew that you'd been lost somewhere in time," Mickey said sadly.

Keith Moran spoke up at this point. "Mr. Potter, my family is originally from Ireland, so what I know is suspect since it was secondhand even when it was going on. From what I know, Voldiesnort…"

Harry broke out in laughter at this name of Voldemort. "Guys its Voldemort, but call him what you want."

Keith blinked then smiled before he continued "Very well, Voldemort, apparently got it into his head that England was not enough and decided to try and bend other wizarding governments to his will. Most other governments wanted nothing to do with England and cut relations. Some were even more reactive and tried to take him out. After a few assassination attempts, Voldemort decided to send terror raids to the countries that didn't acquiesce to his demands. We know that he hit Beaubuxtons and Durmstrang and got a lot of the darker texts that they had in their libraries as well as killed anyone that got in their way."

Sally picked up the story. "Mr. Potter… Harry, I work for an art gallery downtown and have always been a bit of a history buff. It goes well with the job. Keep in mind, so far we've only talked about Britain, which was in far worse shape than any other part of the wizarding world. There had been more than fifty years of constant, low level fighting against that Volde-whatsis person, the society of the time was already in ruins or terrified that they might get raided. It all depended on where you were living. The wizarding population in Britain had fallen by at least fifty percent as many were killed and many more fled to other countries. But everything changed when the war came."

Sally paused to gather her thoughts. "Before the war, wizards that were trained in western styles of magic -- that is, those who used wands to focus their magic, and probably looked at Merlin as one of the fathers of modern magic practices -- tended to concentrate their populations in hidden parts of larger cities. London, Paris, Boston, Moscow are all cities that had fairly large magical communities. It was easier to hide people who dressed and behaved oddly in a large crowd than in a small village. In a city, muggles just looked at a witch or wizard as the local crazy and tended to ignore them. If for some reason you and your family lived in an isolated area, you still tended to shop and work in those large magical areas."

Harry nodded. This information matched up with what he knew of the wizarding world and how wizards tended to behave and think.

"The nuclear missiles that were fired by Colonel Green struck fifty-seven major cities around the globe. Mostly in Asia, but enough cities in Europe and the Americas were hit to pretty much send the world back to the dark ages for a period of time. The thing of it is, because of the way wizarding society had settled and a lot of bad luck on the part of the wizards, a lot of those cities contained major wizarding centers. So while the bombs killed about ten percent of the total population of the Earth at the time, it also wiped out about thirty percent of the wizards and witches, and over three-fourths of the ones who were considered masters of their magical crafts," finished off Ms. Franklin.

Jim Lee took over. "Mr. Potter, I'm a banker by trade, and work over at the Federation consulate figuring out planetary finances and so on. Anyway, after the war broke out, the goblins, who were never close friends of wizards, responded to their own heavy losses and near decapitation of Gringotts leadership by closing the banks, sealing themselves into their underground caverns along with the contents of everyone's vaults. To this day no one has seen or heard from a goblin since then. Everyone, from the richest pureblood to the most humble shopkeeper, was reduced to utter poverty by their actions and honestly, I can't really blame the goblins in the least bit. After the goblins had exiled themselves, the value of the few galleons still in circulation shot through the roof...until it became clear that the wizarding economy was collapsing and they would need to rely almost exclusively on muggle commerce just to survive. Luxury items were unheard of, not when just getting a loaf of bread to feed your family could get you killed in some areas. After a short time, the galleon became almost worthless, more a collector's item rather than a unit of currency. The few governments not totally wiped out by the bombs soon collapsed as they lost the ability to pay their employees."

Jim looked at Harry, who was both fascinated and horrified by the story at the same time.

"This is some conjecture on my part, mainly because there were so few records kept by anyone from right after the war started until the Vulcans made first contact a few years later. But as near as anyone can tell, wizards and witches struggled to survive alongside their Muggle counterparts. Some tried to stay separate, and there may still be a few isolated communities out there, living off their magic in the name of staying "pure". Most of the wizards, though, had to get Muggle jobs and learn to make their way in the Muggle world.

"There was no wizarding government left, no infrastructure. Almost all of the major schools had been destroyed or contaminated. The Dobrynya Nikitich School and Salem Academy were vaporized when Moscow and Boston were destroyed. Durmstrang burned to the ground when Gdansk was hit and the fires burned out of control. Beaubuxtons was downwind of Toulon; the fallout reacted badly with the wards and it was almost impossible to salvage anything of value. Hogwarts itself wasn't damaged as far as anyone knows, but within a month of the bombs falling, the English survivors all left and no one can get near the place. Books on magic are incredibly rare and hard to find these days."

"What about the other schools here in the States?" Harry wondered. "I thought there were more than just Salem."

"There were a couple of others, but by the time the war happened, Salem was the only one holding classes. L'Ecole de Magie in New Orleans was damaged by a bad hurricane and flooding, and was abandoned about fifty years before the war. That may have been a few years after you disappeared; I don't recall what year it happened. The Tehachapi Institute in the mountains north of Los Angeles opened up to replace it, but it was heavily damaged in the Great Earthquake in the 2050's. I think they were in the process of rebuilding when the war came, but it was never completed. The end result of all this was the children were raised and educated alongside their Muggle neighbors. Any magic had to be taught at home, in whatever spare time their parents could spare from the sheer effort to survive."

Jim paused and took a sip of his drink. "I guess it took about twenty years for the world to recover and maybe another ten to reach the levels society had been before the war started. In the meantime we had a whole generation of young wizards and witches who had never been to a magical school. There were very few wand makers and so few wand core materials left that there just weren't enough new wands being made to go around. If your wand got broken, you couldn't get a replacement. After a few years, most young wizards and witches couldn't get wands of their own, or any wand at all, unless their family had extras. If you were lucky enough to have a wand that would work for you, it probably wasn't a good match and performing anything but the most basic spells was a lot harder or impossible. Some kids may have gotten a good education, if their parents were talented and good teachers, but most of them learned common household charms and little else."

Harry's mind was whirling as all of this information slammed into him. "You said things were pretty much back to normal after twenty years or so, though. We live a lot longer than Muggles, so there should still have been plenty of trained wizards around to restart the magical government, open new schools, and such. Why didn't that happen?"

Jake took over from Jim. "Look, Harry, a couple thousand years ago, people had every reason to try and find out what they could do when they figured out that they had magic at their command. I mean, think about it for a second. Back then, if you were a wizard, you could learn to travel across the country in a few hours, while it took weeks for the non-magical. Injury or illness might kill or permanently cripple a Muggle, but a wizard could be healed up in a day or so. If they got attacked or needed to attack something, be honest, a cutting curse or blasting curse was a lot faster and more effective than a pointy stick or tossing a rock at something.

"But even two centuries ago, after the war, Muggle technology was advanced enough to give them many of the same advantages that a magic user from back then had. They could go around the planet in a day, defend themselves -- or if need be, kill -- with the push of a button. If they were sick or hurt, most things could be taken care of in a few days at the longest.

"After those twenty years of having to adapt and acclimate to the Muggle world, most of the witches and wizards were too entrenched in their new lives to easily go back to the old ways. And their children didn't want to give up the technology they'd grown up with."

Hui looked down at the floor and quietly said "Harry--- witches and wizards have been all around you the whole time you've been back. Most of them are Muggleborn or descendents of Muggleborns who were never told about the magical world, so they don't know that they are magical, or if they do they usually don't really care. The rest of us, those who grew up in magical families that passed down the stories of the old wizarding world, aren't much different. Most of us don't have wands -- after two hundred years, most of the old family wands have either been broken or are too brittle to use. Very few of us know more than a couple of spells, and we don't really need to. In today's society the only advantage to being able to use magic is if the power goes out, you could still do most of the same things that you could with the power on."

Harry got up and looked at everyone. "This is a lot for me to take in. give me a bit to let it settle before I ask any questions. You cleared up a lot questions for me."

He moved off to a secluded part of the bar and sat down. Harry just stared at the walls and ceiling, assimilating what he had heard and thinking, I had no idea. There is still magic in the world but all those witches and wizards, killed because of two madmens' dreams of world domination. These people, they've been robbed of their birthright. They should know what it feels like to be a wizard, not a poor imitation. They should be able to go to school and know the feel of a spell cast properly. Hell, they all should have their own wands. What a waste. I wonder, if things had been different, if I hadn't gotten lost in Time...could I have changed things? Damn Voldemort and Colonel Green to hell.

Mickey came up to Harry with a small porcelain cup. "Harry, I know you're not supposed to be drinking while you're at the Academy, but you need this and it's only the one shot."

"What is it?" asked a depressed sounding Harry.

"Saki. I know, I know, it's not Chinese, but it's the best thing I can think of to have when you've had the rug pulled out from under you. If I was in your shoes, well, I've got no idea of what I would do. Having a shot won't change the past, but it'll make you feel a little better for a few minutes."

Harry took the cup and downed it. The warm liquor burned its way down his throat and settled in his stomach. Harry coughed a bit as it went down but it did give him a warm feeling after a few moments.

"Hui went upstairs to get her father's old wand and a few other things she thought you'd like to see. She'll be back down in a few. As far as I'm concerned, you're one of us. Anytime you're on pass, you can stay upstairs in the spare bedroom." The tone in his voice said it all.

Mickey patted Harry on the shoulder and went back to taking care of the bar.

Hui came up to Harry and sat down next to him. "Harry, I went and grabbed my dad's wand; I've been using it since he died, but it's not a great match. I remember him saying that it's mahogany and phoenix feather, thirteen and a half inches in length. It's old, too, but still in pretty good shape. The other thing I want to show you is this book, which I also inherited from my dad."

Harry looked at Hui's wand. It looked slightly familiar, but he wasn't sure he wasn't imagining it. Wands all looked pretty much alike to his Muggle-raised eyes. Handing it back to Hui, he looked at the thick book that she had. It was bound it grey leather with what appeared to be star patterns embossed in it. He realized that she had given it to him with the face down. He turned it over and read the name embossed on the front: Lovegood.

"Lovegood? I knew a girl in school named Luna Lovegood. How did your dad get this?" asked Harry. He was a bit stunned that he had something that might have belonged to one of his friends from Hogwarts in his hands.

It's my dad's family grimoire. It's been passed down for generations. I can't do many of the spells in it; I just don't have the basics to even try. The one thing my dad did before he died was to drill into me a copying spell that gets everything in this book, including any enchantments on the contents. He told me that every child in the family has to be able to copy this book perfectly, so they can pass down a copy to all of their children. He didn't know why but he just knew that it had to be done. Daddy wasn't very traditional, but this was the one thing that he was adamant about. I had to be able to make a perfect copy of this book with magic."

Harry just looked at the tome. He knew that a grimoire was something passed down within families. They weren't something you could buy at the local bookstore. As far as he knew, Luna had been an only child. If this book had been Luna's, and Hui's father had inherited it, that meant Luna survived the fight at the Department of Mysteries and the war, making Hui…

"Hui, are you one of Luna's great-granddaughters?" he asked.

"Yeah, I've seen that name in here. She's my ancestor, about seven times great, I think. The book's got a family tree in it that self updates, but I haven't looked at it in a while. You know, there's a bit of a family mystery about two things in here. Let me open this up and show you."

Hui opened the book and went towards the center of the tome. Two parchment envelopes were tucked neatly inside.

"Harry, I'm showing you this mainly because you're from the past and may know something about the first envelope. All I really know is that the first one asks a question and the second one asks a second question dealing with the first. Maybe you might know the answers."

Hui removed the first envelope and showed it to Harry. On the front of it was a simple question: "What is your full name?"

Hui leaned over the envelope and said, "My name is Hui Johansson"

The script on the envelope faded away, then reformed to say, "I'm sorry, you are not allowed to read the contents of this letter."

The script then reset itself back to the original question.

Harry thought the movement and style of the script looked familiar, but he couldn't place it. "Hmmm… I'm not sure, but let me give it try. Worst thing that can happen is it tells me the same thing."

Harry took the envelope and looked at the question before answering. "My name is Harry James Potter."

The script began to reform itself like before, but this time the response was completely different. "Greetings, Harry James Potter. You have answered the first question correctly. Mr. Moony says that to read the letter contained within, you must tell me the Passphrase. What is the Passphrase?"

Hui looked at the envelope in shock. "It's never done that before. If you keep giving it the wrong name, it usually insults you."

Harry was still looking at the envelope thinking Passphrase?!? Passphrase? I don't know any passphrase.

Suddenly it clicked. The familiar moving writing, and the reference to Mr. Moony. He knew the Passphrase. Someone who had known him very well had written this letter.

"Hui, this letter is set up so only I or someone I entrusted with the key to open it could read it. I know what the Passphrase is."

Harry looked at the envelope again and said in a clear and confident voice, "I do solemnly swear that I am up to no good."