Chapter 1 - A Normal Day…
The orange shade of early morning sunlight filtered through the thin curtains of Harry's small bedroom, casting soft shadows of imaginary monsters across the cluttered floor. Books, gadgets and bits of paper were strewn everywhere, creating a disorganized mess that can be found in any nerdy teenager's room. He was buried under his blankets, tangled in the fabric like he was fighting off a monster in an epic adventure or maybe he just did not want to wake up yet.
"Harry! Get up!" came the sharp voice of his aunt from down the hallway.
Harry groaned; the sound muffled by his pillow. He shifted slightly, poking his head out from under the covers. His dark black hair was a dishevelled mess, sticking up in every direction as if it had been electrocuted.
"I'm awake," he mumbled, though his sharp green eyes were still shut tight.
"Don't make me come in there, Harry!" his aunt warned, her voice closer now.
"I wouldn't dare dream of it," Harry muttered sarcastically under his breath, rolling over to bury his face deeper into the pillow.
Seconds later, the door creaked open, and his aunt's silhouette filled the doorway. She crossed her arms, exasperated. "I swear, for a smart kid, you're awfully stubborn about the simplest things. It's almost 7:30, and you're still in bed."
Harry peeked out from beneath the blanket, one eye open. "Ah, but what is time, really?" he asked with mock seriousness. "Just a human construct designed to oppress smart teenagers like me."
His aunt rolled her eyes. "Get up before I throw a bucket of water on you."
Harry stretched lazily, yawning as if he was doing her a favour. "You wouldn't do that. Water would damage all the books and I've got at least six of them lying around here." He pointed vaguely to the floor, where indeed, several well-worn volumes rested in precarious piles.
"I don't really care much about books unlike you and your uncle. You have five minutes or else," she said sternly before turning on her heel and walking away, her footsteps fading down the hallway.
Harry stared at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating his next move. He had mastered the art of taking his time, especially when it came to mornings. Calm, cool, collected - that was him. But as much as he liked to act like getting up was some impossible feat, there was a part of him that enjoyed the dance, this daily battle of wills with his aunt.
He finally threw off the blankets, shivering slightly as the cool air hit his skin. Sitting up, he ran a hand through his wild hair, wincing as his fingers caught in a tangle. "Alright, world," he muttered to himself, "let's see what you've got for me today."
With one last yawn, Harry stood up and shuffled toward the door, his feet dragging across the floor. Another morning, another day in the life of a protagonist—calm, intelligent and forever fighting the tyranny of early wake-ups.
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After his usual slow-motion morning routine—brushing his teeth, running a hand half-heartedly through his unruly hair, and throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt—Harry finally made his way downstairs. The smell of breakfast was already wafting through the house, drawing him in like a magnet. He wasn't in a rush, though. He never was.
As he entered the small kitchen, his aunt was already sitting at the table, scrolling through her laptop while sipping her tea. His uncle, in contrast, looked fully awake despite the early hour, neatly dressed in his usual button-down shirt and glasses perched on the edge of his nose. He was reading something that looked like an academic journal—probably something to do with dark matter, or wormholes, or whatever else astrophysics professors spend their mornings thinking about.
"Morning, Harry," his aunt said without looking up from her screen. "You're actually on time."
Harry smirked as he slid into his chair, glancing at the perfectly arranged English breakfast on the table — fried eggs, bacon, sausages, toast, and a pot of tea in the centre. "I figured you'd be proud. Didn't even get a water threat today."
His aunt shot him a sideways look but couldn't suppress a smile. "Small victories."
Just then, a heavy thud announced Dudley's arrival. His cousin lumbered into the room, still half-asleep, yawning loudly and scratching his head of messy blond hair. He was bigger than Harry in every way—broad-shouldered and muscular. Lately, Dudley had been obsessed with boxing, convinced he'd make a name for himself in the ring.
"Morning," Dudley grunted as he sat down, piling food onto his plate like he was carb-loading for a marathon.
"Boxing training today?" Harry asked innocently, eyeing the mountain of food Dudley was preparing to devour. "Or are you just preparing to fight breakfast?"
Dudley shot him a glare, but his mouth was too full to respond.
"Leave him be," his uncle chimed in with a chuckle. "The boy needs his energy." He set down his journal and reached for his tea, the same calm and collected presence he always was. "Though I do wonder if a full plate of bacon is in a fighter's diet plan."
Dudley rolled his eyes, swallowing his mouthful. "I'm bulking up, Dad. That's part of the training."
"Sure," Harry said, smirking. "Gotta bulk up for all the punching, right?"
"You should join me sometime, Harry. Might toughen you up," Dudley shot back, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Or is sarcasm your only form of exercise?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Sarcasm burns a surprising amount of calories, actually. You should try it."
Their aunt, still typing away, sighed without lifting her eyes from the screen. "Honestly, both of you."
Their uncle leaned back, looking over the table at his sons—one lost in astrophysical equations, the other lost in thoughts of boxing gloves—and couldn't help but smile. It was mornings like these, the routine, the banter, that reminded him how different they all were, yet how they managed to fit together.
"Right," his uncle said, standing up and folding the journal under his arm. "Speaking of exercise, I've got a lecture at the university in an hour. Something about gravitational waves and supernovae." He glanced at Harry. "Interested?"
"Gravitational waves?" Harry said, leaning back in his chair. "Or the wave Dudley makes when he trips over the gym mats?"
Dudley threw a half-hearted punch toward Harry's arm, missing by a mile. "Keep talking, nerd."
Their aunt finally looked up from her laptop, giving them both a tired but affectionate look. "Enough. Eat your breakfast. Dudley, go get ready for training. Harry, don't be late for school. And both of you, try not to injure each other before lunch."
Harry grinned as he bit into his toast. "No promises."
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Harry sat in the passenger seat of his uncle's car, staring out at the passing buildings as they made their way to the university. The engine hummed softly, a familiar backdrop to the quiet of the early morning. He was used to these drives—his uncle always eager to bring him along to lectures or research labs whenever Harry showed the slightest interest. And he had, for as long as he could remember.
His fascination with science had started young. He could still picture the first time he was truly captivated by a math problem. He'd been in primary school, year 4 maybe, and the teacher had introduced the class to the concept of geometry. While the other kids saw shapes and lines, Harry saw something deeper—a hidden order, a logic that made the world fit together in ways that felt just… right. From that day, numbers became more than just figures on a page; they were the foundation of everything.
By the time he'd moved up to secondary school, his curiosity had only grown. He excelled quickly, moving through the typical Year 7 curriculum faster than expected, always on the lookout for something more challenging. And then came physics. If math was the language of the universe, physics was its story. From the smallest particle to the largest galaxy, Harry wanted to understand it all.
His uncle had been a huge influence. Professor Dursley, respected astrophysicist, renowned researcher, and Harry's personal guide into the world of the macroworld. His uncle had devoted his life to studying the stars, black holes, and the cosmic mysteries of the universe. Harry admired him deeply, but while his uncle's passion lay in the vast expanse of space, Harry had found himself just as fascinated with the microworld—the tiny particles, the atoms, the forces that governed the universe at its most fundamental level. He'd quickly become aware of how the two worlds—the macro and the micro—were intertwined, how gravity and quantum mechanics, as different as they seemed, were somehow part of the same reality.
"I remember when I first started asking you about black holes," Harry said, breaking the silence. He turned to his uncle with a small smile. "You were explaining event horizons to me while I was still trying to get my head around Year 9 physics."
His uncle chuckled, keeping his eyes on the road. "Ah, yes. You were about twelve then, weren't you? I could tell you were hooked. And here I thought I'd have to start simple, but you just dove right in."
"Well, I had a good teacher," Harry replied with a smirk. "And it's not like you let me off easy."
"Not much point in spoon-feeding you when you were devouring entire textbooks on your own," his uncle said with a proud glance. "But I have to say, I'm impressed with how you balanced both sides—quantum mechanics and astrophysics. Most people tend to specialize."
Harry nodded, remembering his rapid progression through the school system. He had skipped a year, placing him ahead of most students his age. By the time he was in Year 12, he was already studying A-levels in both physics and mathematics. Now, at just 15, he was on the verge of completing his A-levels and was already in discussions about dual-majoring in physics, with a minor in mathematics, once he started university.
"Speaking of balance," came a deep, groggy voice from the backseat, "you should join me in the mornings, Harry."
Harry turned to see Dudley slouched in the back, barely awake but still trying to convince him to join his boxing workouts. It was an ongoing thing. Dudley was always pushing for Harry to 'get some exercise' and toughen up, as if Harry's brain needed some brawn to back it up.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Really, Dudley? Boxing and physics don't exactly go hand in hand."
Dudley stretched out, yawning loudly. "Doesn't have to be boxing. Just… something. You can't spend all day in labs and lectures. You've got to stay in shape."
Harry smirked. "I'm in shape. My brain is in excellent shape, thank you very much."
His uncle chuckled softly but chimed in with a more neutral tone. "Dudley's not wrong, Harry. A little physical activity wouldn't hurt. Keeps the mind sharp, too."
"Great, even you're on his side," Harry muttered, glancing back at Dudley, who grinned triumphantly.
"Hey, I'm just saying, you're gonna need it. Especially once you're at uni, juggling a dual major. You'll want the endurance," Dudley added, still half-lounging but sounding more awake now.
Harry didn't respond, but he knew they had a point. The idea of balancing a dual major in physics—covering both the theoretical and practical aspects of the microworld and macroworld—wasn't going to be easy. But then again, he'd always thrived under pressure. He liked the challenge, the way his brain lit up when faced with complex problems.
As they neared the university, Harry looked out the window again, thinking about how far he'd come. He had already been in conversations with professors at his uncle's department about his next steps, and the path ahead seemed more thrilling than daunting. He was ready—ready to tackle both the micro and macro mysteries of the universe.
But for now, he just had to get through the morning without Dudley dragging him to the gym.
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As the car pulled up in front of Dudley's high school, the sound of students chatting and lockers slamming filled the air. Dudley unbuckled his seatbelt with a grunt, throwing his sports bag over his shoulder before stepping out of the car. Before closing the door, he leaned in with a smirk and said, "Don't get too lost in your books, Harry. Your arms are starting to look like string beans."
Harry rolled his eyes but caught the well-meaning smile on Dudley's face. "Don't worry, Dud. I can still carry the weight of all my academic achievements," Harry shot back with a grin.
Dudley chuckled and gave a mock salute before slamming the door shut and heading toward the school entrance. Harry watched him go, shaking his head.
A short while later, Harry and his uncle arrived at Ashworth University, a place that looked more like a medieval fortress than a modern institution of learning. The main building was a massive granite structure, its stone walls weathered and ivy-covered, with tall arched windows that glinted in the soft morning light. Towers and spires rose above the tree-lined courtyard, giving the university a regal, almost castle-like appearance. It exuded both age and wisdom, a place where knowledge had been cultivated for centuries.
As they drove past the courtyard, Harry saw the early morning hustle in full swing. Groups of students, backpacks slung over their shoulders, hurried across the grounds, their faces bright with enthusiasm. Some were deep in conversation, animatedly discussing their latest projects or the upcoming exams. There were cliques too—groups of engineering students huddled together, the science majors engrossed in their notes, while a couple of arts students lounged on the grass, sketchpads in hand. Even though the day was just beginning, there was an unmistakable energy in the air.
The professors moved through the crowd with a more measured pace, their expressions serious but their eyes sharp, focused. Many of them wore glasses, giving them a studious look as they carried their briefcases and journals. Harry recognized a few of them from his previous visits, their faces familiar as they navigated the lively campus with the confidence of those who had spent years within its walls.
"So, any guesses on what the Dean's going to talk about in today's address?" Harry asked as they parked and started walking towards the main auditorium. The cobblestone paths were still damp with morning dew, and Harry could hear the distant sounds of birds chirping above.
Professor Dursley smiled thoughtfully. "Well, last year it was all about the new sustainability initiatives. But with all the buzz around quantum computing lately, I wouldn't be surprised if he dives into that. It's becoming quite the hot topic."
Harry nodded, falling into step beside his uncle. "Yeah, especially with the breakthroughs in qubit stability. Makes you wonder how long it'll be before we see actual, functional quantum processors outside of labs."
They passed a couple of colleagues along the way, exchanging polite nods and greetings. One of the professors, Dr. Clarke from the astrophysics department, waved as they passed. "Morning, Dursley! Morning, Harry!" she called out with a friendly smile.
"Morning, Clara," Dursley replied, tipping his head.
As they continued toward the towering auditorium, the conversation shifted naturally to the latest developments in their fields. "You hear about the new research on supermassive black holes?" Professor Dursley asked, his tone shifting to the focused professor Harry knew well. "They're finding some intriguing connections between them and dark matter, especially in those older galaxies."
Harry's eyes lit up at the mention. "I did. It's fascinating how the gravitational influence of black holes might actually extend beyond what we've been calculating. If that ties into dark matter, it could change the way we model galaxies entirely. And on the quantum front, there's been progress in understanding quantum entanglement—could give us deeper insight into spacetime at the microscopic level."
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They reached the grand doors of the auditorium, students and faculty alike streaming inside for the dean's address. Harry took a moment to look around, taking in the energy, the excitement. This was a place where minds thrived, where knowledge was the currency, and where he felt at home.
Harry and his uncle entered the grand auditorium, where the air hummed with a quiet, yet palpable sense of academic curiosity. The space was vast, arranged in a wide, sweeping C-shape, with tiered seating that ascended up multiple levels. Rows upon rows of seats were filled with professors, students, and researchers, all talking in low voices, their minds already churning with ideas before the address had even begun. The room itself felt almost like an amphitheater of knowledge, with a large projector screen looming above the stage, ready to display the day's presentation.
At the front of the auditorium, near the stage, the Dean stood amidst a small group of professors, engaged in conversation. He was in his late 60s, with a balding head of thin white hair, though what remained was neatly combed. His face, however, was anything but aged—his sharp blue eyes sparkled behind round glasses, and there was an infectious brightness in his expression, a deep optimism that seemed to radiate from him. He wore a well-worn brown suit, the kind that had seen countless lectures and discussions, yet still held a certain dignity, much like the man himself.
"Ah, Dursley! And young Harry!" the Dean called out brightly as they approached, his voice carrying through the crowd with warmth. He extended his hand to Professor Dursley, then turned to Harry with a wide smile. "It's good to see you here, lad. Always nice to have a sharp mind in the room."
Harry smiled politely, shaking Dean's hand. "Morning, Dean. I've been trying to guess what today's address might be about. Any hints?"
Dean's eyes twinkled, and his smile grew a little wider, taking on an almost mischievous edge. "Ah, young Harry. You'll find out soon enough. Let's just say… the stars may not be the only thing we're exploring today." He paused, his grin turning enigmatic as he adjusted his glasses. "Or perhaps, something even smaller holds the key to the biggest mysteries."
He winked, then turned and began walking toward the podium, leaving Harry blinking in confusion.
"What… does that even mean?" Harry muttered, his brow furrowing as he tried to decipher the cryptic comment. He glanced up at his uncle, hoping for some insight.
Professor Dursley just chuckled and shook his head, clearly used to the Dean's playful ambiguity. "He likes to keep us all on our toes," he said, amused. "It'll make sense soon enough, I'm sure."
Around them, other professors exchanged bemused glances, no one quite sure what to make of the Dean's teasing words. The room grew quiet as the Dean reached the podium, his presence commanding attention even before he began to speak.
Harry sat back in his seat, still trying to figure out what the Dean could possibly be hinting at. Whatever it was, he knew it would be something worth paying attention to.
The auditorium quieted down as the Dean stood at the podium, adjusting his glasses with a well-practiced ease. He surveyed the audience, his sharp blue eyes twinkling with a mischievous light. He cleared his throat and opened, as he always did, with a dad joke that would make even the most serious academic smile.
"Why did the photon check into a hotel?" he began, pausing for dramatic effect. "Because it needed a little light rest!"
There was a moment of awkward silence from the younger students, followed by a few quiet groans of embarrassment. Meanwhile, the professors exchanged amused glances, clearly entertained by the Dean's brand of humour. Harry smirked, rolling his eyes slightly. Classic Dean.
The Dean, clearly pleased with himself, moved smoothly into his address. "But in all seriousness," he began, his voice becoming more focused, "today, I'd like to talk to you all about something that's at the very heart of our universe. Something we've been working on understanding for over a century—the world of sub-atomic particles."
He paused to sip from his glass of water, letting his words hang in the air. "Now, we're all familiar with atoms, of course. For a long time, we thought that was where the story ended—tiny, indivisible building blocks of matter. But as science tends to do, it surprised us. Inside these atoms, we discovered a whole new level of complexity—protons, neutrons, and electrons. And inside those…" He smiled, his voice taking on a tone of awe. "We found quarks."
As he spoke, his tone was careful, almost gentle, ensuring that even those without deep backgrounds in physics could follow along. He briefly went over the basic principles of quarks and their properties—the different 'flavours' of quarks, the way they combine to form protons and neutrons, and how they interact through the fundamental forces, especially the strong nuclear force. His explanations were clear, patient, weaving a narrative that even a beginner could grasp.
He touched on the history of these discoveries, recalling how quarks had first been proposed by physicists in the 1960s, the development of the Standard Model, and how quantum mechanics had evolved alongside these ideas. It was all presented in a simple, approachable way—an overview of things everyone in the room already knew inside and out.
Yet, Harry, like many others, couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of confusion. Why is he covering basics? he thought to himself. Everyone in the auditorium was either a professor, an advanced student, or a researcher. These were foundational topics, concepts they had studied years ago. There was nothing new or groundbreaking in what the Dean was saying—just a well-rehearsed lecture that felt more like a primer for first-year students than a faculty-wide address.
The Dean, ever the showman, seemed aware of the confusion. He sipped his water again, smiling enigmatically as he surveyed the crowd, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses. He could probably feel the energy in the room shifting, the collective hum of puzzled thoughts. He wasn't rushing, though, nor did he seem inclined to get to the point. There was something almost playful in his demeanour, as if he enjoyed drawing them all along on this slow, methodical journey.
Harry glanced over at his uncle, who had the same curious expression, though with a hint of amusement in his eyes. What is he building toward? Harry thought, his mind churning as he tried to piece it together. The Dean wouldn't spend this much time on basics unless he was preparing to lead them somewhere unexpected.
He caught himself fidgeting, trying to follow the thread of the Dean's lecture while thinking ahead at the same time. Is he going to reveal something about the latest quantum research? Maybe a new theory connecting quarks to dark matter?
Harry's brow furrowed. The Dean's cryptic words earlier, about "something smaller holding the key to the biggest mysteries," echoed in his mind. There was definitely more coming. The suspense was building, and whatever it was, Harry could sense it was going to shake things up.
The rest of the audience, it seemed, shared Harry's sentiment. The professors exchanged subtle glances, the occasional murmur passing between them. But no one interrupted. The Dean was holding their attention, even if the content seemed too basic.
And the Dean, sipping his water once more, looked out at them all with that same enigmatic smile. He knew exactly what he was doing.
As the Dean's eyes flickered toward Harry with a subtle wink, his lecture took an abrupt and unexpected turn. "Now, let's shift our attention to something truly... dense," he said, his voice lowering as if preparing to share a secret. "Neutron stars."
There was a pause as murmurs swept through the audience, and Harry's eyes darted to his uncle for some kind of explanation. Professor Dursley, however, just gave Harry a knowing smile, leaning over slightly to whisper, "Listen closely. He's building towards something big."
Harry settled in his seat, his confusion deepening but his curiosity fully engaged. The Dean's voice took on a more intense tone as he described the incredible nature of neutron stars. "Neutron stars," he began, "are the densest material in the universe, excluding black holes. Imagine something so compact that a sugar-cube-sized piece of it would weigh as much as Mount Everest. But that's just the beginning."
He paused to sip from his water, his eyes sweeping the room. Some professors began to shift in their seats, their expressions changing as if they were starting to connect the dots, their previous confusion melting into something sharper. Harry, however, still felt lost in the rapid change of topics and looked to his uncle again. Professor Dursley merely raised an eyebrow, silently urging Harry to stay focused.
The Dean, as if sensing the shift in the audience, suddenly leaned in and said with dramatic weight, "Strange matter!"
His voice echoed across the vast auditorium, drawing everyone's attention in an instant. "This," he continued, "is a substance so bizarre, so extreme, that it bends the rules of the universe. It could infect and destroy everything it comes into contact with—or perhaps, it could hold the key to understanding the beginning of the universe itself. Maybe both."
Harry's heart raced as the Dean spoke, his mind working hard to keep up. Strange matter? It was a term he'd heard whispered in theoretical physics, but the implications had always seemed distant, like the stuff of sci-fi.
"To understand why strange matter is such a terrifying possibility," the Dean explained, "we need to go back to neutron stars. These stars are what remain after a very massive star explodes in a supernova. When that happens, the star's core collapses under its own gravity with such intense force that it squeezes particles together in a way that defies the imagination."
The Dean's voice grew quieter, drawing everyone in closer. "In these collapsing cores, electrons are pushed into protons, merging to form neutrons. All the 'nothing' that normally exists between particles in an atom is suddenly gone—filled with neutrons packed so tightly together that they become like one gigantic atomic nucleus, about the size of a city, but with the mass of our Sun."
Harry's brow furrowed as he pictured this, his mind grappling with the sheer enormity of it. The Dean continued, "The forces at work inside neutron stars are so extreme that even the rules of nuclear physics can start to break down. And that's where things get… weird."
He paused again, letting the tension build in the room. Some professors exchanged glances, as if now piecing together the significance of the Dean's sudden shift from quarks to neutron stars. Harry's thoughts were racing, trying to figure out what it all meant, what strange matter had to do with it all.
"What if," the Dean said, lowering his voice to almost a whisper, "under the immense pressure and density of a neutron star, particles themselves begin to break down, releasing even more fundamental particles—quarks, and even more exotic forms of matter? This," he said, eyes gleaming, "could lead to the formation of strange matter. A substance so dangerous that, if it touches ordinary matter, it could convert it into more strange matter, spreading like an unstoppable infection."
Harry's breath caught in his throat. The idea was terrifying. Strange matter, a substance that could theoretically devour everything it touched, including entire planets, stars—maybe even galaxies.
"But," the Dean said with a thoughtful smile, sipping his water once more, "it could also teach us more about the conditions of the early universe, when everything was more chaotic, less stable. It could show us how the universe truly began. A paradox—something that could both destroy and enlighten."
The room was still, everyone hanging on the Dean's words. Harry's mind whirled as he tried to wrap his head around what he was hearing. He glanced at his uncle, who simply smiled, clearly enjoying the spectacle. Harry's confusion deepened. What was the Dean really driving at? Why this sudden focus on strange matter, on neutron stars? Was there some new discovery? Something everyone had missed?
The Dean, still smiling enigmatically, glanced once more around the room. He knew they were all confused, but he seemed to enjoy it—enjoying leading them toward something profound that he was yet to reveal.
Harry leaned forward slightly in his seat, determined to figure out where this was all heading. Whatever it was, the Dean was certainly building toward something big.
The Dean paused for another sip of water, his gaze sweeping over the room as if assessing the crowd's collective bewilderment. It was clear he was enjoying the suspense, the gradual reveal of something deeper. Still smiling, he continued, "As we all know, protons and neutrons—the very particles that make up the nuclei of atoms—are composed of smaller entities called quarks. And quarks, well... they're peculiar little things. Quarks really don't like being alone. They're what we call confined."
He leaned forward slightly, as if about to share a secret. "You can try to pull them apart, but the more you try, the more they resist. The harder you pull, the stronger the force that binds them together becomes. In fact, if you use enough energy to separate them, all you succeed in doing is creating new quarks instead. It's a bit like trying to split a rubber band—stretch it too far, and it snaps back, forming more bands."
Harry was following along closely now, a little mesmerized by the way the Dean framed the topic. Quarks had always fascinated him, their strange nature and behavior so fundamental yet elusive. The Dean had a way of making these complex ideas seem approachable, even if Harry still sensed something profound lingering beneath the surface.
"Quarks, as you know," the Dean continued, "exist together as the building blocks of other particles—protons and neutrons—but they've never been observed alone. They come in different 'flavors,' but only two seem to create stable matter: the 'up' and 'down' quarks, which are found in protons and neutrons. The others—'strange,' 'charm,' 'top,' and 'bottom' quarks—are usually so unstable that they decay away almost instantly."
Harry's eyes narrowed in concentration as he listened. Up and down quarks—normal. But strange quarks… where is he going with this?
"But," the Dean said, drawing out the word dramatically, "this may not be the case inside neutron stars." His tone shifted, a sense of awe creeping in. "The forces operating in the cores of neutron stars are so extreme that they mimic conditions of the universe shortly after the Big Bang. In a way, the cores of these stars are like time capsules, fossils that can show us how the universe was in its earliest moments."
Some professors in the audience nodded slightly, others exchanged furtive glances, now clearly connecting the earlier discussion of quarks to this. Harry noticed this but still felt a step behind. His uncle, seated beside him, simply gave him a knowing glance, as if to say, Wait for it.
"One hypothesis," the Dean went on, his voice deepening as if introducing the core of his lecture, "is that inside the core of a neutron star, protons and neutrons deconfine. All the particles crammed so tightly together that their individuality dissolves. Instead of existing as discrete particles, they melt into what is essentially a sea of quarks—a quark bath, if you will."
The audience was dead silent now, every mind working furiously to process what the Dean was describing. Harry could feel the tension in the room, an electric anticipation buzzing around him. The Dean's voice dropped lower, pulling everyone in further.
"When this happens, you no longer have individual protons and neutrons. You no longer have anything recognizable as standard matter. Instead, you get a single, enormous entity—quark matter." He paused, letting the term sink in. "This is a bizarre, theoretical state of matter where quarks are no longer confined within particles but float freely, forming a homogeneous, strange fluid of fundamental particles."
Harry felt a strange chill run down his spine as the Dean spoke. The idea of quark matter—something so alien and primal—was both terrifying and fascinating. But the Dean wasn't finished.
"And here's where things get even weirder," he said, his voice now almost reverent. "If enough of this quark matter exists, it's possible that the entire star could become something entirely different—a new kind of star, composed entirely of quark matter. We call it a quark star."
The term seemed to hang in the air, bold and mysterious, as if it carried a weight all its own. The Dean smiled as he said it, as though revealing some cosmic riddle. He paused for another sip of water, clearly relishing the dramatic tension.
Harry sat frozen, trying to wrap his mind around the concept. A quark star? A star made entirely of quarks? The very thought of it boggled his mind. He glanced at his uncle, who was now grinning subtly, clearly enjoying Harry's reaction. Around them, several professors had similar expressions of awe and wonder—though a few also looked concerned, as if this line of thinking had troubling implications.
The Dean's enigmatic smile returned. He had built up the tension perfectly, leading them all from the known into the strange and the unknown. And yet, despite all the buildup, Harry could sense that there was still something more the Dean hadn't revealed. He could feel it in the way the Dean kept his cards close to his chest, the way his eyes twinkled with hidden knowledge.
Harry's mind raced. Quarks, strange matter, neutron stars… What's next? What could he possibly be building toward?
The Dean's grin widened as he sensed the audience's anticipation. "Now then," he said, his tone almost playful, "I won't keep you in suspense any longer." He paused dramatically, scanning the room. "We can finally talk about the most dangerous substance in the universe."
The tension in the auditorium was palpable as the Dean continued. "If the pressure inside a quark star is great enough, it may get stranger—literally. Some of the quarks inside the core could convert into what we call 'strange' quarks. These have bizarre nuclear properties. They're heavier, more resilient, and for lack of a better term... stronger. When they appear, they could give rise to something we call strange matter."
There was a collective shift in the audience, the weight of the Dean's words hanging in the air. Harry's brows furrowed as he leaned forward, trying to grasp this new concept.
"Strange matter," the Dean said, "might be the ideal state of matter—perfectly dense, perfectly stable, indestructible. More stable than anything else in the universe. So stable, in fact, that it could exist outside of neutron stars."
He glanced around the room, making sure everyone was still with him. "Imagine this: when neutron stars collide with each other or with black holes, they spew out tremendous amounts of their insides. And some of that material could include little droplets of strange matter called strangelets."
The term hung in the air, mysterious and daunting.
"Strangelets," the Dean explained, "are as dense as the core of a neutron star. They could be incredibly small, perhaps even subatomic in size. And here's the truly wild part—these strangelets could drift through the galaxy for millions, even billions of years, completely undetectable to us."
Harry's mind raced as he processed this. Strangelets... he thought, the idea of such dangerous, invisible entities floating through space was both terrifying and fascinating.
The Dean wasn't done yet. "Some theories suggest that strangelets could be more common than we think—outnumbering all the stars in the galaxy. They might have formed right after the Big Bang, when the universe was as hot and dense as a neutron star's core. And as the universe expanded, these strangelets might have clumped together around galaxies."
He raised an eyebrow. "In fact, some scientists speculate that strangelets might even be what we call dark matter—the invisible substance that holds galaxies together. But then again," he added with a chuckle, "maybe not. After all, this is all highly speculative."
There was a ripple of laughter from the professors, though their faces were mixed with awe and contemplation. The young students, like Harry, were wide-eyed, the sheer scale of the ideas overwhelming.
The Dean's expression shifted to something more formal, his tone signaling the climax of his address. "Now, the reason I've taken you on this strange journey," he said, clearly savouring his pun, "is that this university will soon be collaborating with two of the greatest scientific institutions in the world—the European Space Agency and CERN."
There was a stir of excitement in the audience.
"We will be using the Xandra X-Ray Telescope from ESA and the Humongous Hadron Collider at CERN to investigate these very topics—the nature of quark stars and strangelets. We aim to tackle the mysteries of strange matter on both macroscopic and microscopic scales."
The room buzzed with energy as the professors exchanged whispers, clearly invigorated by the prospect of such a prestigious collaboration.
The Dean's eyes sparkled as he delivered his final remark. "And before I forget," he added with a sly smile, "you know what they say about strange quarks—they're practically magical!"
There was a groan of amusement from the older audience members, while the younger students cringed at the dad joke. Harry smirked at the pun, his mind still racing with everything he had just heard.
As the Dean wrapped up, Harry sat back in his seat, his thoughts swirling. The blending of theoretical physics with something so speculative, almost mystical, had left him reeling. Strange matter? Strangelets? Could dark matter really be something so… dangerous?
His uncle nudged him gently. "What do you think?" he asked with a knowing grin.
Harry blinked, still trying to process. "I think," he said slowly, "that this has been a very strange day."
His uncle chuckled softly, and as they stood to leave, Harry couldn't help but think of the strange, invisible forces that might be shaping their universe in ways he had never imagined.