Unfinished Journeys, Untraveled Roads - 2 - Experiments in Reanimation
A selection of unfinished tales that have been abandoned.
Each 'chapter' represents a single story.
Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation, religious/social iconoclasm and reader brain damage. Brain bleach is highly recommended.
All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.
There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.
Unfinished Journeys, Untraveled Roads - 2 - Experiments in Reanimation
The world of Harry Potter joins with the worlds of Gothic Horror, Young Frankenstein, Steampunk and Girl genius (Mad Science). Harry is a Spark - one touched by the ability to instinctively mess with things man was never meant to know, and sparks start messing early.
Note: Includes the Obligatory 'massive inheritance', 'insanely structured trunks' and 'all manner of stuff from nowhere' clichés. Not meant to be taken seriously.
Chapter 1 - A Prologue
Draco woke to pain and the smell of burned hair.
He was strapped to a table of some sort and he could hear crackling and buzzing noises underlain by whirring and the occasional squeak.
As he opened his eyes they were met by a scene that, had he been a muggle, he'd have recognised from an assortment of gothic horror movies, but, being wizard-born …
Draco whimpered and worked his way up to a full throated scream.
A figure dressed in white robes, surgical mask and strange, brass goggles with an assortment of … things attached entered. A pair of red, rubber, elbow-length gloves covered its hands.
"Ah, Draco, you're awake. Good. Try not to worry, but after having been dead for a few days, you're bound to be suffering some confusion and disorientation."
The summer before third year …
"Ah, so glad to meet you at last, Mr Potter. It has come to my attention that you haven't been receiving your mail from us, for whatever reason. Whatever, we can correct this right now."
Harry nodded, fuming quietly at the way his mail had been interfered with … again.
"Director Ragnok, how long has this been the case? And what needs to be done to correct the situation?"
The old goblin smiled. He appreciated the way this young human cut straight to the chase whist being polite and respectful. Many goblin young, he reflected briefly, could do with learning the same lesson.
"Simply, Mr Potter, you should have been receiving statements annually since your parents … since you were placed with your guardians. The specific problem is a pair of inheritances that you should have been notified of on or about your eleventh birthday."
Harry nodded. "That one is easy. My guardians were … objecting to my getting any owl post at the time – specifically, my Hogwarts letter. The annual statements however …"
"In which case, it is simple enough to pass your inheritances to you. Your parents, of course, left you everything, but there were some items that were to be passed on to you when you turned eleven – journals and books, for the most part. Your grandfather, Charlus, left a quantity of goods for you – a matter of several trunks containing whatever. The contents were not detailed."
Harry nodded, his eyes widening slightly and he felt tears demanding to be shed for the family he never knew.
"Lastly, a muggle relative's … bequest … comes to you. Your great uncle on your mother's side, Viktor von Fröhenstein who died without issue left you everything. He specified that you would inherit his goods when you turned eleven, but his title passed immediately to you on his death. There are no others who could inherit – you are the last of his line, your cousin is excluded, of course, being a cadet line from your mother's half-sister who is no blood relation to the von Fröhenstein lineage.
"Of course, this immediately grants you, by the nature of these things, Bavarian dual nationality."
Harry nodded and then looked at the goblin.
"But Bavaria is part of Germany, isn't it?"
The goblin grinned toothily. "Not in the magical world, and since you're a wizard, then you fall under the aegis of the Bavarian Ministry. For convenience, I took the liberty of combining the separate vaults with the three legacies into a single goods vault – number seven hundred and fifty four."
Chapter 1 Third year
Harry sat in his room in the Leaky Cauldron. He had visited his secondary vault and examined the contents. His parents had left him two trunks of assorted goods – a mixture of memories, in the form of wizarding photograph albums, and practical items – their journals and personal libraries. There was also the family penseive along with a few vials of silvery memories – and a pair of personal letters addressed to him.
The letters tore him apart emotionally, leaving him raw and exhausted.
The trunks from his grandfather contained the family library and his warding and curse-breaking equipment, which fascinated Harry immensely.
Finally, a chest from his great uncle contained a collection of journals, text books and assorted papers, including the letters patent that granted the family the barony of Fröhenstein, a petty realm in the Bavarian Alps comprising a decaying castle, a small village whose trade consisted of speciality chocolate, a pungent cheese and a few die-hard hikers who wanted to visit the two mountains in the barony.
There was a Swiss bank account containing a respectable balance in Euros. Actually, a very respectable balance. He also saw that a warehouse had been retained to hold the goods in trust for him – furniture, library, art works, workshop and laboratory equipment.
Harry's eyebrow cocked mightily at that.
Harry began the long task of sorting out his belongings. Luckily, his grandfather's trunk was an expanded, multi-compartment model. The first compartment was empty but for a thin, leather-bound book. Flicking through, he found it to be the instruction manual for the trunk.
The compartments included the usual empty space, a clothes closet and wardrobe, a potions laboratory, a warders and curse-breaker's tool compartment, a library with an office and study and a small cabin. The seventh and final compartment was designed to safely accommodate other storage devices shrunken and with internal space‑expansion charms.
Harry was confused at the potions laboratory until he realised that it unfolded from the trunk yielding a work-bench, compact storage for equipment and supplies and access to part of the library.
Similarly, the warder's store gave access to the library.
He entered the study and found it comfortable, the lamplight giving the library around him a warm, cosy, homely feel. The desk and filing cabinet (an antique wooden one with brass handles and fittings) contained documents and stationery. A cupboard contained sufficient stationery to supply the whole of Hogwarts for a year.
Venturing forth once more, he entered the cabin. There was a compact washroom and toilet, a compact galley with a stasis-charmed food-store and a breakfast bar, there was a small sitting area with a sofa and a wing-backed chair, and a drinks cabinet. Behind a curtain was a large bunk-bed with storage space above and below – in the latter he found a wizarding tent. A large wizarding tent, as he would discover when he finally used it.
A narrow door gave access to the clothes closet compartment, and a second door led to the study. A third opened into a short, narrow corridor with four more doors. Each gave access to one of the other compartments of the trunk. For the most part, they acted simply as cupboards, not allowing the unfolding of the potions bench.
Leaving the trunk, Harry withdrew the contents of the final compartment – two trunks that could not be removed from the cupboard in the cabin.
You cannot open space-expanded containers of more than three cubic feet (internal) within an expanded space without risking disruption of the space-expansion charms. In order to safeguard the user, space-expanded containers are not accessible through the inter-compartment portal.
He opened the trunks and the chest. He closed them and sighed. It was going to be a long task sorting this lot out, so he prevaricated and settled to finishing his homework.
As he waded through the masses of goods he had been given, sorting, cleaning and cataloguing, he made a list of things he would need to replace. This didn't worry him since the chest from the trunk contained, amongst other things, a large amount of wizarding money.
Much of his inheritance was in disarray, and Harry found himself wondering if the summer would be enough for him to sort, replace and understand what he had been given. Until, that is, he found a polished wooden box with a circular, crystal window and a magical lock. He pricked his finger, for seemingly the thousandth time in a week, and opened the box. Within he saw an intricate device made of crystal and gold. Looking like a magical egg-timer, Harry lifted the device on its long chain, and found beneath it a small book of instructions.
He found that this was a time-turner. Suddenly, he had time to study, to sort, to clean and to enjoy himself. He read the instructions, and especially the warnings about travelling in time.
The remaining six weeks of the summer holiday stretched to rather more than twelve by use of the trunk and the time-turner. Harry sorted and studied, he shopped, he explored and he trained, at least a bit.
In his sorting, he discovered a collection of wands, all taken in duels. He found a couple that he felt comfortable with, that allowed him to perform magic unnoticed by the ministry.
He sent Hedwig to Hogwarts, asking Professor McGonagall to allow him to study ancient runes and arithmancy instead of divination. her reply came back that he could.
He knew that Ron would be upset, but Harry now had a legacy to live up to.
Ron had been, as predicted, a git. Harry knew that his friendship with the jealous, and above all, lazy red-head was at an end. Harry felt regretful, but not overly so. Hermione, on the other hand, stuck to him like glue, and demanded that she be allowed to see his library as soon as possible. This made Harry chuckle quietly to himself.
Malfoy interrupted their journey with his obligatory visit, accompanied by the goon-squad. Harry just told him to learn to sleep with one eye open. They were disturbed by the entry of dementors onto the train, causing Harry to collapse.
As the term slipped slowly past, Hermione was becoming more and more exhausted. Harry recognised the symptoms.
"Hermione? Are you using a time-turner to follow your impossible schedule? Are you using it to cram more study hours into the rest of the day, every day?"
Her eyes widened in panic.
Harry reached into his robes and pulled out his own.
"Harry … where did you …?"
"I inherited it, so don't tell anyone. Will yours go back a full twenty four hours?"
She shook her head. "Six hours per day maximum."
"And you're turning all six every day?"
"And you're not getting any extra sleep, are you? A thirty hour day requires ten hours sleep, Hermione. I get around it by turning a full day and spending it in my trunk studying, and getting a good night's rest at the end of the day."
"You want to use part of your turned time to study and sleep in my trunk? It would be nice to have company when I'm on a trunk day. I do my turned day before a normal day, so you'd only be able to discuss classes I don't take in the trunk."
She nodded dumbly, knowing that this was to avoid the risk of paradox.
The year proceeded, Sirius Black caused havoc, Harry and Hermione learned to cast a patronus. Harry, watching the Marauders' Map, saw a name that he didn't expect to see in the Gryffindor dormitory. He went to Professor Lupin with the matter.
"Professor? I have this map, and I saw a the name of someone who is supposedly dead in my dormitory. Peter Pettigrew."
Lupin looked at the map. "Where did you get this, Harry?"
"I inherited it, professor, I'm interested in the charms that are on it. For example …"
He touched the open map with his wand. "Prongs Junior would like to find Peter Pettigrew."
A message wrote itself on the map in Harry's father's writing. Peter Pettigrew is in the third year boys' dormitory in the Gryffindor tower.
"That's Prongs' copy? I thought it was … lost."
Harry nodded. "I know, Uncle Moony. The twins have Sirius Black's copy. Oh, I've changed the password on both copies."
Lupin nodded. "How secure?"
Harry grinned. "Nothing to do with any of the marauders. It's private. This one is in parseltongue, anyway."
The Daily Prophet headline blared, "Sirius Black innocent: Pettigrew guilty of mass murder."
It was a pale and skeletal Sirius Black who sat in Lupin's office grinning at his godson a week later.
It was to the bedevilment of Cornelius Fudge that the condemned hippogriff, Buckbeak, disappeared minutes before he was due to be executed. Of course, it was impossible to disappear an entire hippogriff, but no one really questioned the presence of a similar creature, Witherwings, in the Forbidden Forest.
Exams came and went, and both Harry and Hermione were happy with their performance.
Harry was looking forward to getting on with his own studies over the summer, once he moved in with his godfather. He looked forward to seeing his best friend over the summer too, and she looked forward to seeing him.