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ffuturesThis is a crossover between the Harry Potter books, the Buffy The Vampire Slayer TV series, and the film Bedazzled (1967, not the 2000 remake), with some other crossovers and Easter eggs, so far including Dogma (1999) and Time Bandits (1981). All characters belong to their respective creators / owners / megacorporations of doom and not to me, please don't sue...
VI - Summer of '99
"Oh Pansy!" said Vincent, kissing his new bride while simultaneously trying to unbutton her dress. Although it was the early afternoon their bed's canopy and curtains cut out a lot of light, making it hard for him to see what he was doing.
"Oh Vincent!" Pansy returned the kiss as enthusiastically as she could, while wincing as one of the buttons came off in his hand. She wasn't sure that she'd remembered to pack her sewing kit, but hoped there might be one somewhere in the cottage they had rented.
"Oh Pansy!" Vincent tried again, and this time managed to undo a button without damaging anything.
"Oh Vincent!" Pansy started on the next button before Vincent could do more damage.
"Oh bugggggger!"
"Who said that?" asked Pansy.
"Sounded like someone outs-"
There was a loud crash, and something fell through the thatched roof and ceiling, landing on the canopy of the bed and bringing it down, along with a cascade of dust and plaster. They both screamed and tried to struggle out from under the debris, hearing rapidly retreating footsteps and doors slamming as the intruder escaped. They finally got free and looked up to see the damage. By then the intruder was long gone. As they watched more thatch and dirt showered down into the bedroom.
"Oh no," Vincent said in a strained voice, "I think my old trouble's started up again!"
"Try to stay still, darling, I'll get the linament."
Harry stumbled away from the cottage, trying to concentrate. He had no idea where he was, except that the people in the bedroom he'd smashed had English accents, and he felt like he'd been hit by a dozen bludgers. Although the place had an old-fashioned look there had been no sign that they had magic, and if he'd felt better he might have tried to cover his tracks with reparo spells and obliviation, but he'd only ever seen the memory spell used once, by Gilderoy the dickhead, and didn't want to risk getting it wrong or getting into trouble with the Ministry. When he felt a little better he'd find some way to contact them and let them sort it out.
The rutted lane he'd been following came out onto a wider road, surfaced with small stones and rolled to flatness. Grass grew between the stones, and he noticed occasional piles of grassy manure, maybe left by horses or cows. It was better than walking cross-country, but that was about all that he could say for it. Regardless, following it was probably his best option. He tossed a knut, then turned right, hoping that the luck potion was still working.
A few hundred yards later he came to a crossroads with a wooden signpost. The road he was following was marked 'Weston Super-Mare 7', the turn to the right was 'Warminster 8¾'. Back the way he had come from was 'Exeter 35'. Off to the left was a narrower road, little more than a cart track, signed as 'Godric's Hollow 3½.' He knew the name, his parents had been living there when they were killed. It was supposed to be a village with a lot of wizarding familes, maybe the roads were so bad to keep people away from them. He ought to find a wizarding house with a floo there somewhere, it was probably the easiest way to get back in touch, if he didn't run into Death Eaters along the way. Until then he'd try to keep a low profile.
He took the left fork and soon came to a copse of trees close to the road, sheltered from casual view. He made sure that there was nobody around, relieved himself against a tree, then tried to make his clothing look less conspicuous, more muggle-worthy. The trousers and boots he was wearing looked OK, if a bit old-fashioned, the problem was the shirt and robe. Some concentration and a couple of low-powered charms, turned his robe into a tweed jacket, the sort of thing hikers wore, and the shirt into something more appropriate to football than quidditch. Maybe someone in the Ministry would notice his use of magic and send someone to investigate it, but he wasn't going to hold his breath waiting. There was supposed to be a trace on under-age magic, but he'd never actually heard of anyone else running into trouble, and guessed that they only reacted to strong magic in a muggle area, like the time he'd blown up Aunt Marge. He was using low-powered spells in the arse-end of nowhere, they'd probably just ignore it unless someone reported muggle-baiting or something.
By the time he'd finished altering his clothes he had a headache and felt a little sick. He wanted something to drink, and wished he knew the water-making spell, but there was no help for that. He'd just have to keep walking until he found a clean stream, a well, or somewhere where he could beg a drink.
About a mile further on the road crossed an old stone bridge over a railway cutting. He didn't see a station in either direction, and it didn't look like the line was going towards Godric's Hollow, so he carried on. It was still reasonably sunny but the shadows cast by the sun were getting long, and he guessed that it was late afternoon or early evening. It might be sunset in an hour or so. He kept going, still looking out for somewhere to get water. Eventually, as it started to get dark, he saw lights up ahead, and guessed that he was finally getting close to the village.
He'd intended to head for the closest house, but there was a sudden flash of red light from another house, slightly further away, followed by a burst of blue light and a woman's scream. "Fuck! Death Eaters!"
Harry thought of getting help, but the screams and the flashes were continuing, and he guessed that there was no time to lose. He ran towards the house, screaming "Alohamora," the unlocking charm, as he came to the door and charged in.
He was in the entrance hall of the house, and there were three wizards with wands, firing and deflecting spells. There was a girl in old-fashioned clothes, about his age, at the bottom of stairs at the end of the hall, screaming and shouting "Stop it! Stop it!" and running towards the fight.
Harry could see that she was in danger, and shouted "Get down" as he ran along the hall towards her, shielding against the closest wizard's spells and hoping the others were too busy to fire at him.
As he reached her someone shouted "Aveda Kedevar!" Without thinking Harry grabbed her, pushed her down to the floor, and tried to shield her with his body. Then they were bathed in green light.
"Three bloody hours!" said a familiar voice. Harry opened his eyes, and saw Snape - no, there were wings, it had to be the Metatron - staring at him. "We lost track of you for three bloody hours, and you managed to get yourself killed."
Harry looked around, and saw the girl he'd tried to rescue, who was curled up in a ball and seemed to be unconscious. They were in a vast white space that somehow reminded him of the arena for the first task, though without the dragons and obstacles. The floor looked like white marble, he couldn't see walls or a ceiling.
"Where are we?" asked Harry.
"Don't worry about it, you won't be staying here."
There was a clicking noise, like someone had snapped their fingers, and Lucifer appeared in a cloud of slightly sulfurous smoke, saying "That was was fun. Nothing I like more than a nice visit to purgatory."
"You've taken care of those two?" asked the Metatron.
"Have I ever let you down... actually, don't bother to answer that. Yes, I've dumped them off with my younger self, and he'll make sure that they're properly contained." He smiled, his eyes glowing red, and Harry suddenly felt afraid. "Harry, congratulations! You've just changed history. None of us saw it coming, but you managed it!"
"I didn't mean to!" said Harry, "I was just trying to save her life!"
"Commendable," said the Metatron, "but a little foolish. Still, we can't argue with the results."
"I don't understand."
"Obiously not," said the Metatron, sounding much more like Snape. "Now we have to work out what we're going to do about it."
"No take-backs," said Lucifer, "we can't fix this one up with a couple of wishes."
"She's already told me not to try."
"She?" asked Harry.
"God, of course," said the Metatron. "She should be along in a minute or two."
Harry touched a hand to the girl's shoulder and felt something sting his hand, a jolt like an electric shock, and she flinched away from his touch, without opening her eyes.
The Metatron put his hand on Harry's arm. "Better leave it until God's had a look at her."
"Okay."
A moment later there was a "ting!" noise, and two hitherto-invisible doors slid open, revealing the interior of a small lift. The occupant was a woman who seemed to be in her twenties, wearing a silvery corset-style top, a jacket made of the same material, a short white skirt that seemed to be made of layers of gauzy cloth - there was probably a better name for it but Harry didn't know it - that ended above her knees, and flat-soled sandals. She had dark hair parted and combed back clear of a high forehead, with some ringlets and braided hair at the sides. Afterwards Harry could never remember her features precisely, and was never sure if she was plain or beautiful. She turned to the Metatron and Harry saw her fingers move in what he assumed was sign language.
The Metatron nodded and said "As I said earlier, you were both just killed, along with two of the three idiots who were fighting. Fortunately both of you have the misfortune to be lumbered with parasitic entities, and God has decided that they can go instead of you."
"Parasitic?" asked Harry.
"In your case, your scar contains a fragment of the soul of a certain Mister Riddle; you may have noticed that it hurt sometimes. In hers, a parasitic magical entity created by mischance, somewhat like a poltergeist. While it's stretching a point, God has decreed that both of them will be acceptable substitutes for your souls, and will return you to life - if you want, of course. I can't guarantee where you'll end up if you decline the offer, but you don't seem to be irredeemably evil, it probably won't be anywhere too bad."
"Okaaaay... getting rid of the thing works for me. Do I need to do anything?"
"Just hold still, She'll need to touch your scar. It might itch a little."
"Good luck," said Lucifer, "and try not to be too goody-goody with that thing gone!"
Harry smiled apologetically at God. "I'm a fourteen year old boy, I'm pretty sure I'll misbehave sooner or later... but I'll try not to make it too horrible."
God grinned at him, rubbed her hands together, then put her right hand on his forehead and seemed to concentrate. For a second Harry felt the pain he'd experienced when Voldemort was around, which slowly subsided. As God took her hand away he realised that she was holding a clear glass globe in her other hand, which was filled in something like a cloud of smoke with two angry red eyes. Harry's head didn't hurt at all.
"And done," said the Metatron. "Another one for you, Lucifer."
"Oh joy. What about the girl?"
"Probably not relevant to you, but we'll see."
God touched the girl's forehead. Her eyes snapped open and she stared at God. God gestured to Harry, and he came over to stand by her.
"Explain the situation," said the Metatron.
"Um... Hello, my name's Harry, Harry Potter. This is going to sound really strange, but basically this is God. She wants to cure you, get rid of something that's been possessing you, then send us back to life. She just did something like that to me, it stung a bit but I feel a lot better now." Harry tried to think of something else to say, and failed miserably.
"Back in the house," said the girl, "did you save me?"
"Tried to, but I think I got us both killed. Fortunately God wants to give us another chance."
"Will that thing be gone forever?"
God smiled at her and nodded.
The girl smiled back. "Yes please."
God put one hand on the girl's forehead, the other on her heart, and there was a blinding golden glow. Harry blinked, and saw that God was holding another glass globe, this time containing a swirling blue vortex, like pictures he'd seen of ball lightning. She looked at it for a moment, then handed it to the Metatron and gestured again.
The Metatron grinned and slipped it into a jacket pocket, but didn't comment. God gently kissed the girl's forehead, then Harry's cheek.
"We'd better get them back," said Lucifer. "I know it's only been a few seconds, but we don't want any accidents."
"What happens next?" asked Harry.
"Briefly," said the Metatron, "you two try to get on with your lives." He hesitated, and looked a little embarrassed. "Harry, that portal you came through was the wrong one. The one you were supposed to use would have gone back in time about an hour and left you in Belfast, but Randall misread the map and missed that there'd be another one turning up. You ended up nearly a hundred years in the past, and your involvement in the fight changed things a lot. This young lady gets to live, two others don't. That's going to change history quite a bit. You can't go home again, because that world, that history, doesn't exist any more. Your only way back to the future is the long way. You'll have to live through it."
"What? What about Sirius? What about bloody Voldemort? What about my friends?"
"No idea. When you left the maze 'Now' was June the twenty-fourth 1995. But that time doesn't exist any more, the new 'Now' is August the eighteenth 1899. Anything that happens in the wizarding world from now on will probably change to some extent, there may even be changes for the muggles. You might want to think about influencing events a little - but I don't recommend hunting down the ancestors of people you dislike, that never ends well. You might even end up causing the events you want to stop."
"Shit. Sorry..."
"It's all right," said the girl. "What about me?"
"I'm sorry to say that your older brother is dead, so is your house-guest, you'll have to ask your other brother for the details. Other than that... well, your magic should be controllable from now on, there won't be any more episodes. You might have problems getting a magical education in Britain, but there are schools in other countries that take older students. Talk to your brother, he might have some ideas. Which reminds me - Harry, you need to think about your education too. Neither of you has any educational record in Britain, it might not be a bad idea to go abroad for a while, and come back with a few OWLs and NEWTs. That way you can stay off the Ministry's radar."
"What's radar?" asked the girl.
"It's a muggle thing, I don't think they invent it until the nineteen-thirties. I'll explain later."
"All right."
"I just realised," said Harry. "I don't even know your name."
"Ariana," said the girl. "Ariana Dumbledore."
TBC
Vincent and Pansy are recurring characters in Time Bandits, their moments of passion interrupted by the arrival of time travellers in incidents several centuries apart.
If it wasn't obvious, the version of God appearing in this chapter is from Dogma, as played by Alanis Morissette.
Albus is dead, so is Gellert Grindelwald. History is now irrevocably changed. I've tried to be as accurate as I can about the details of the duel as described on the Harry Potter wiki, up to the point where Harry appeared.
If you have any suggestions on how this affects the Muggle or Wizarding worlds please let me know. I don't guarantee to use any given idea, especially if they conflict with the plans I already have for the story, but I'd be grateful for your thoughts.
One thing I should stress - this isn't all-knowing Harry Potter. He learned Muggle history up to age 11, which means he knows a little about events affecting Britain but not a huge amount about the causes. After that 4 years of Goblin Rebellions with Binns, and not much else about Wizarding history, society, etc., and virtually nothing about Muggle science etc. He will make mistakes, and some of them will have consequences.
Now posted with a few edits to archives:
On Twisting the Hellmouth - https://www.tthfanfic.org/Story-34251/MarcusRowland+Harry+Potter+Undazzled.htm
On Fanfiction.net - https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14336114/1/Harry-Potter-Undazzled
On Archive of Our Own - https://archiveofourown.org/works/54407350
VI - Summer of '99
"Oh Pansy!" said Vincent, kissing his new bride while simultaneously trying to unbutton her dress. Although it was the early afternoon their bed's canopy and curtains cut out a lot of light, making it hard for him to see what he was doing.
"Oh Vincent!" Pansy returned the kiss as enthusiastically as she could, while wincing as one of the buttons came off in his hand. She wasn't sure that she'd remembered to pack her sewing kit, but hoped there might be one somewhere in the cottage they had rented.
"Oh Pansy!" Vincent tried again, and this time managed to undo a button without damaging anything.
"Oh Vincent!" Pansy started on the next button before Vincent could do more damage.
"Oh bugggggger!"
"Who said that?" asked Pansy.
"Sounded like someone outs-"
There was a loud crash, and something fell through the thatched roof and ceiling, landing on the canopy of the bed and bringing it down, along with a cascade of dust and plaster. They both screamed and tried to struggle out from under the debris, hearing rapidly retreating footsteps and doors slamming as the intruder escaped. They finally got free and looked up to see the damage. By then the intruder was long gone. As they watched more thatch and dirt showered down into the bedroom.
"Oh no," Vincent said in a strained voice, "I think my old trouble's started up again!"
"Try to stay still, darling, I'll get the linament."
Harry stumbled away from the cottage, trying to concentrate. He had no idea where he was, except that the people in the bedroom he'd smashed had English accents, and he felt like he'd been hit by a dozen bludgers. Although the place had an old-fashioned look there had been no sign that they had magic, and if he'd felt better he might have tried to cover his tracks with reparo spells and obliviation, but he'd only ever seen the memory spell used once, by Gilderoy the dickhead, and didn't want to risk getting it wrong or getting into trouble with the Ministry. When he felt a little better he'd find some way to contact them and let them sort it out.
The rutted lane he'd been following came out onto a wider road, surfaced with small stones and rolled to flatness. Grass grew between the stones, and he noticed occasional piles of grassy manure, maybe left by horses or cows. It was better than walking cross-country, but that was about all that he could say for it. Regardless, following it was probably his best option. He tossed a knut, then turned right, hoping that the luck potion was still working.
A few hundred yards later he came to a crossroads with a wooden signpost. The road he was following was marked 'Weston Super-Mare 7', the turn to the right was 'Warminster 8¾'. Back the way he had come from was 'Exeter 35'. Off to the left was a narrower road, little more than a cart track, signed as 'Godric's Hollow 3½.' He knew the name, his parents had been living there when they were killed. It was supposed to be a village with a lot of wizarding familes, maybe the roads were so bad to keep people away from them. He ought to find a wizarding house with a floo there somewhere, it was probably the easiest way to get back in touch, if he didn't run into Death Eaters along the way. Until then he'd try to keep a low profile.
He took the left fork and soon came to a copse of trees close to the road, sheltered from casual view. He made sure that there was nobody around, relieved himself against a tree, then tried to make his clothing look less conspicuous, more muggle-worthy. The trousers and boots he was wearing looked OK, if a bit old-fashioned, the problem was the shirt and robe. Some concentration and a couple of low-powered charms, turned his robe into a tweed jacket, the sort of thing hikers wore, and the shirt into something more appropriate to football than quidditch. Maybe someone in the Ministry would notice his use of magic and send someone to investigate it, but he wasn't going to hold his breath waiting. There was supposed to be a trace on under-age magic, but he'd never actually heard of anyone else running into trouble, and guessed that they only reacted to strong magic in a muggle area, like the time he'd blown up Aunt Marge. He was using low-powered spells in the arse-end of nowhere, they'd probably just ignore it unless someone reported muggle-baiting or something.
By the time he'd finished altering his clothes he had a headache and felt a little sick. He wanted something to drink, and wished he knew the water-making spell, but there was no help for that. He'd just have to keep walking until he found a clean stream, a well, or somewhere where he could beg a drink.
About a mile further on the road crossed an old stone bridge over a railway cutting. He didn't see a station in either direction, and it didn't look like the line was going towards Godric's Hollow, so he carried on. It was still reasonably sunny but the shadows cast by the sun were getting long, and he guessed that it was late afternoon or early evening. It might be sunset in an hour or so. He kept going, still looking out for somewhere to get water. Eventually, as it started to get dark, he saw lights up ahead, and guessed that he was finally getting close to the village.
He'd intended to head for the closest house, but there was a sudden flash of red light from another house, slightly further away, followed by a burst of blue light and a woman's scream. "Fuck! Death Eaters!"
Harry thought of getting help, but the screams and the flashes were continuing, and he guessed that there was no time to lose. He ran towards the house, screaming "Alohamora," the unlocking charm, as he came to the door and charged in.
He was in the entrance hall of the house, and there were three wizards with wands, firing and deflecting spells. There was a girl in old-fashioned clothes, about his age, at the bottom of stairs at the end of the hall, screaming and shouting "Stop it! Stop it!" and running towards the fight.
Harry could see that she was in danger, and shouted "Get down" as he ran along the hall towards her, shielding against the closest wizard's spells and hoping the others were too busy to fire at him.
As he reached her someone shouted "Aveda Kedevar!" Without thinking Harry grabbed her, pushed her down to the floor, and tried to shield her with his body. Then they were bathed in green light.
"Three bloody hours!" said a familiar voice. Harry opened his eyes, and saw Snape - no, there were wings, it had to be the Metatron - staring at him. "We lost track of you for three bloody hours, and you managed to get yourself killed."
Harry looked around, and saw the girl he'd tried to rescue, who was curled up in a ball and seemed to be unconscious. They were in a vast white space that somehow reminded him of the arena for the first task, though without the dragons and obstacles. The floor looked like white marble, he couldn't see walls or a ceiling.
"Where are we?" asked Harry.
"Don't worry about it, you won't be staying here."
There was a clicking noise, like someone had snapped their fingers, and Lucifer appeared in a cloud of slightly sulfurous smoke, saying "That was was fun. Nothing I like more than a nice visit to purgatory."
"You've taken care of those two?" asked the Metatron.
"Have I ever let you down... actually, don't bother to answer that. Yes, I've dumped them off with my younger self, and he'll make sure that they're properly contained." He smiled, his eyes glowing red, and Harry suddenly felt afraid. "Harry, congratulations! You've just changed history. None of us saw it coming, but you managed it!"
"I didn't mean to!" said Harry, "I was just trying to save her life!"
"Commendable," said the Metatron, "but a little foolish. Still, we can't argue with the results."
"I don't understand."
"Obiously not," said the Metatron, sounding much more like Snape. "Now we have to work out what we're going to do about it."
"No take-backs," said Lucifer, "we can't fix this one up with a couple of wishes."
"She's already told me not to try."
"She?" asked Harry.
"God, of course," said the Metatron. "She should be along in a minute or two."
Harry touched a hand to the girl's shoulder and felt something sting his hand, a jolt like an electric shock, and she flinched away from his touch, without opening her eyes.
The Metatron put his hand on Harry's arm. "Better leave it until God's had a look at her."
"Okay."
A moment later there was a "ting!" noise, and two hitherto-invisible doors slid open, revealing the interior of a small lift. The occupant was a woman who seemed to be in her twenties, wearing a silvery corset-style top, a jacket made of the same material, a short white skirt that seemed to be made of layers of gauzy cloth - there was probably a better name for it but Harry didn't know it - that ended above her knees, and flat-soled sandals. She had dark hair parted and combed back clear of a high forehead, with some ringlets and braided hair at the sides. Afterwards Harry could never remember her features precisely, and was never sure if she was plain or beautiful. She turned to the Metatron and Harry saw her fingers move in what he assumed was sign language.
The Metatron nodded and said "As I said earlier, you were both just killed, along with two of the three idiots who were fighting. Fortunately both of you have the misfortune to be lumbered with parasitic entities, and God has decided that they can go instead of you."
"Parasitic?" asked Harry.
"In your case, your scar contains a fragment of the soul of a certain Mister Riddle; you may have noticed that it hurt sometimes. In hers, a parasitic magical entity created by mischance, somewhat like a poltergeist. While it's stretching a point, God has decreed that both of them will be acceptable substitutes for your souls, and will return you to life - if you want, of course. I can't guarantee where you'll end up if you decline the offer, but you don't seem to be irredeemably evil, it probably won't be anywhere too bad."
"Okaaaay... getting rid of the thing works for me. Do I need to do anything?"
"Just hold still, She'll need to touch your scar. It might itch a little."
"Good luck," said Lucifer, "and try not to be too goody-goody with that thing gone!"
Harry smiled apologetically at God. "I'm a fourteen year old boy, I'm pretty sure I'll misbehave sooner or later... but I'll try not to make it too horrible."
God grinned at him, rubbed her hands together, then put her right hand on his forehead and seemed to concentrate. For a second Harry felt the pain he'd experienced when Voldemort was around, which slowly subsided. As God took her hand away he realised that she was holding a clear glass globe in her other hand, which was filled in something like a cloud of smoke with two angry red eyes. Harry's head didn't hurt at all.
"And done," said the Metatron. "Another one for you, Lucifer."
"Oh joy. What about the girl?"
"Probably not relevant to you, but we'll see."
God touched the girl's forehead. Her eyes snapped open and she stared at God. God gestured to Harry, and he came over to stand by her.
"Explain the situation," said the Metatron.
"Um... Hello, my name's Harry, Harry Potter. This is going to sound really strange, but basically this is God. She wants to cure you, get rid of something that's been possessing you, then send us back to life. She just did something like that to me, it stung a bit but I feel a lot better now." Harry tried to think of something else to say, and failed miserably.
"Back in the house," said the girl, "did you save me?"
"Tried to, but I think I got us both killed. Fortunately God wants to give us another chance."
"Will that thing be gone forever?"
God smiled at her and nodded.
The girl smiled back. "Yes please."
God put one hand on the girl's forehead, the other on her heart, and there was a blinding golden glow. Harry blinked, and saw that God was holding another glass globe, this time containing a swirling blue vortex, like pictures he'd seen of ball lightning. She looked at it for a moment, then handed it to the Metatron and gestured again.
The Metatron grinned and slipped it into a jacket pocket, but didn't comment. God gently kissed the girl's forehead, then Harry's cheek.
"We'd better get them back," said Lucifer. "I know it's only been a few seconds, but we don't want any accidents."
"What happens next?" asked Harry.
"Briefly," said the Metatron, "you two try to get on with your lives." He hesitated, and looked a little embarrassed. "Harry, that portal you came through was the wrong one. The one you were supposed to use would have gone back in time about an hour and left you in Belfast, but Randall misread the map and missed that there'd be another one turning up. You ended up nearly a hundred years in the past, and your involvement in the fight changed things a lot. This young lady gets to live, two others don't. That's going to change history quite a bit. You can't go home again, because that world, that history, doesn't exist any more. Your only way back to the future is the long way. You'll have to live through it."
"What? What about Sirius? What about bloody Voldemort? What about my friends?"
"No idea. When you left the maze 'Now' was June the twenty-fourth 1995. But that time doesn't exist any more, the new 'Now' is August the eighteenth 1899. Anything that happens in the wizarding world from now on will probably change to some extent, there may even be changes for the muggles. You might want to think about influencing events a little - but I don't recommend hunting down the ancestors of people you dislike, that never ends well. You might even end up causing the events you want to stop."
"Shit. Sorry..."
"It's all right," said the girl. "What about me?"
"I'm sorry to say that your older brother is dead, so is your house-guest, you'll have to ask your other brother for the details. Other than that... well, your magic should be controllable from now on, there won't be any more episodes. You might have problems getting a magical education in Britain, but there are schools in other countries that take older students. Talk to your brother, he might have some ideas. Which reminds me - Harry, you need to think about your education too. Neither of you has any educational record in Britain, it might not be a bad idea to go abroad for a while, and come back with a few OWLs and NEWTs. That way you can stay off the Ministry's radar."
"What's radar?" asked the girl.
"It's a muggle thing, I don't think they invent it until the nineteen-thirties. I'll explain later."
"All right."
"I just realised," said Harry. "I don't even know your name."
"Ariana," said the girl. "Ariana Dumbledore."
TBC
Vincent and Pansy are recurring characters in Time Bandits, their moments of passion interrupted by the arrival of time travellers in incidents several centuries apart.
If it wasn't obvious, the version of God appearing in this chapter is from Dogma, as played by Alanis Morissette.
Albus is dead, so is Gellert Grindelwald. History is now irrevocably changed. I've tried to be as accurate as I can about the details of the duel as described on the Harry Potter wiki, up to the point where Harry appeared.
If you have any suggestions on how this affects the Muggle or Wizarding worlds please let me know. I don't guarantee to use any given idea, especially if they conflict with the plans I already have for the story, but I'd be grateful for your thoughts.
One thing I should stress - this isn't all-knowing Harry Potter. He learned Muggle history up to age 11, which means he knows a little about events affecting Britain but not a huge amount about the causes. After that 4 years of Goblin Rebellions with Binns, and not much else about Wizarding history, society, etc., and virtually nothing about Muggle science etc. He will make mistakes, and some of them will have consequences.
Now posted with a few edits to archives:
On Twisting the Hellmouth - https://www.tthfanfic.org/Story-34251/MarcusRowland+Harry+Potter+Undazzled.htm
On Fanfiction.net - https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14336114/1/Harry-Potter-Undazzled
On Archive of Our Own - https://archiveofourown.org/works/54407350
no subject
Date: 2025-11-23 07:11 pm (UTC)I look forwards to the next chapter.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-23 11:17 pm (UTC)