A pillar of flames burst to life, whirling in heatless blue. It only lasted a few moments before fading away, revealing….
A young man with messy dark hair in a Japanese high school uniform. He took one look around the room, green eyes scanning over the inhabitants. Before Dumbledore could greet him, the young man spun away from where he’d been standing. Some type of wooden practice sword spun into his hands. Dumbledore hadn’t even seen the young man wearing it.
The young man put his back to the wall, his gaze sweeping from the students to the teachers, pausing for a moment on Hagrid, before finally locking on Dumbledore, who had just stood from his chair. A stream of words, that the Headmaster identified as Japanese, left the young man.
Responding in kind, the Headmaster watched as the young man’s green eyes locked onto his. Raising his hands in a calming gesture, he asked if he spoke English, he nodded with a smile. “Ah, excellent. Perhaps we can clear some things up together. It would appear that the Goblet of Fire has summoned you here for reasons currently unknown… though perhaps.” Albus hesitated for a moment before asking, “Are you, perchance, Harry Potter?”
Those green eyes widened for a moment before narrowing. “How do you know that name?”
Dumbledore offered a gentle smile. “Oh my boy, we’ve been looking for you for years. Welcome home to Hogwarts. I am Professor Dumbledore and I was a close friend of your parents.”
“Was? They’re really dead then? We always suspected but…” Harry trailed off with a shake of his head. “Doesn’t matter. The name is Emiya now, by the way. Harry Emiya. And I’m going to need to know a bit more about this Goblet that summoned me.” He paused again as he looked around. “And is this the best place to be having this conversation?” He motioned to the students with his head.
Dumbledore blinked before turning his gaze towards the tables of the Great Hall, filled with students who only barely managed to keep their excited chatter and speculation to a dull roar. How had he missed that? “Quite. Perhaps we should step aside… and would please put up your sword? We don’t allow weapons in the school?”
“No offense, Professor Dumbledore, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline that last request. I’m in an unknown location, summoned by unknown means, facing unknown peoples, one of which appears to be pointing some type of wand at me.”
Turning slightly, Dumbledore looked at the head table then sighed. “Please, Severus, this is hardly the time.”
Professor Snape sneered. “It would appear the Potter arrogance knows no bounds, Headmaster. He refuses to disarm even after being asked.”
“Only a fool would disarm in these circumstances.” Harry glared back at the Professor.
“I’ll take care of it myself then.” Severus whipped his wand forward and snapped off an expelliarmus.
A pierce of stone tore free from the floor, rushing to intercept the spell. Another piece shifted into the shape of a sword before rushing towards the Professor. Only a quickly cast protego kept the Potions Master from being impaled.
Dumbledore moved himself between the two, offering a quick nod of thanks towards Flitwick, who had already put away his wand. “That will be quite enough, the two of you. Severus, Harry will be allowed to keep his sword though I would hope we can make him comfortable enough to feel that he doesn’t need it. His feelings on the matter are understandable.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed again before nodding. “Fine. Let’s move this somewhere else, Dumbledore. Looks like we both need answers.”
The chatter in the room had grown even louder at the display of wandless magic and followed the two out of the room.
***
Dumbledore sat back on his chair, contemplating the young man before him. While it was clear from their conversation that this was Harry Potter, he wasn’t the Harry Potter of this world. They confirmed several differences between the two worlds, from the rise of Voldemort to Harry’s having been placed with his Aunt and Uncle. However, that’s where things seemed to have diverged. The Dursley’s had been on a trip to Japan when they were caught in a fire. Only Harry had survived, having been found along with another child and then adopted and raised by one Kiritsugu Emiya.
Harry and Shirou had then been taught a different form of magic that was unknown at Hogwarts, or, to the best of Albus’s knowledge, in their world. After several demonstrations of the magic circuits from Harry and an examination by several of the Professors (except for Severus, who had been asked to leave after the man could keep his acidic comments to himself), it was definitely a unique form of magic. That it blended with transfiguration was fascinating and the researcher in him tried to compel Dumbledore to continue exploring the implications.
However, he valiantly put those urges aside to concentrate on the current situation. He proceeded to explain about the Goblet of Fire and the Tri-Wizard Tournament.
Harry’s gaze took on a dark undertone. “I’m already involved in one magical tournament I didn’t want to be a part of. This one doesn’t seem to have any less of a dangerous consequence to non-participation.”
Albus blinked at the statement. “Beg your pardon?”
Harry waved away the question. “So what exactly do you expect me to do with this tournament, Headmaster? I’m not familiar with your form of magic, nor am I a member of any formal school to represent. This isn’t even my world!”
That gave Dumbledore pause. Who would Harry represent? Perhaps one of the schools from the Orient? They could contact several and see how they felt. Of course, that presented its own challenges. “That is a question for another time. Perhaps until we can figure that out, you would be willing to study with the students here at Hogwarts? We have four houses that I’m sure would be happy to house you with their students.”
The assorted heads of house all chimed in with their willingness to host Harry (with the exception of the missing Slytherin Head). Harry nodded slowly, then spent several minutes asking questions about the houses and their accommodations. He eventually settled on Ravenclaw, citing access to their library as the deciding factor.
While Flitwick left to contact some of his students to help get Harry settled in, the rest of the group spent some time familiarizing Harry with the types of magic they taught. They covered everything from Magical Plants and Animals to the Transfiguration that Harry seemed already familiar with. There was even mention of Potions, though Harry seemed to dislike the topic once he learned that Severus was the Potions Master.
By the time Flitwick returned with several students in tow, Harry looked ready to get some sleep. After offering his thanks to the Headmaster, Harry followed the group from the room.
Leaning back in his chair, Albus contemplated just how the changes in Harry would affect his ability to stop Tom. Would he still be the savior of the Wizarding world?
***
Harry looked around the room. By a quirk of numbers, he was able to get what was normally a room for four all to himself. That was fortunate, because he had some things that he didn’t want anyone else knowing. His voice was barely a whisper as he called, “Caster.”
Shadows coalesced in a corner of the room before forming into a cloaked figure. Pale hands reached up to lower the hood, looking around with those piercing brown eyes. “It would appear that this is indeed the Hogwarts of which I am familiar.”
Taking a seat on the bed, Harry sighed. “I know you mentioned it when I got summoned, but it’s still strange that I would be dragged somewhere like this. Especially with you as my Servant.”
Caster shrugged, before offering a rare half-smile. “Perhaps there is more to the tie between us than we originally suspected. After all, only you could have called me from the Grail.” He tapped a spot on his forehead, one that corresponded to Harry’s scar.
Harry grimaced. “It still find it strange that the person who tried to kill me as a babe is the one who ended up as my Servant.”
A soft chuckle escaped Caster. “Life is strange. I for one still find it strange that a babe was the one who killed me, though I get the feeling that our story together is about to become even more complicated. At least the immortality that I sought has been obtained, in a way, through my contract as a Servant. My magic is greater here than I could have ever imagined and I have you to thank for it.”
Shaking his head, Harry said, “I didn’t do anything other than survive and we both know it was more my mother who made that happen than anything I could have possibly done. Anyway, we’re getting far afield. I don’t think this world is ready for the return of their boogeyman, even the way you are.”
Caster grimaced. “Perhaps not. Not that they need to know. I have no intention of contacting my former servants, nor do I intend to make any sort of name for myself here. For one, the Grail War still takes precedence. The power the Grail offers us far surpasses anything I might obtain for myself here. Not to mention we aren’t sure what your summoning truly means here. The Goblet of Fire was a rare and most importantly, unstudied, artifact in my time. I feel that there are too many unknowns regarding our circumstances here. We must proceed with caution.”
Caster paused before adding, “Just imagine what were to happen should any of the other Grail War participants find a way to join us here.”
Both Servant and Master shuddered at the thought of Illyasviel von Einzbern being unleashed upon this world.
***
Harry worked with the Ravenclaws to bring himself up to speed on the local equivalent of magic. Wand Magic seemed to be the most prevalent style, though herbology and potions (the subject, not necessarily the class itself) were a delight and he could already see parallels that he hoped to study once he returned to his world. What truly fascinated him was the magic he was already somewhat familiar with. Transfiguration.
Being able to transfigure one substance to another was what allowed him to create different swords for his combat style. Yet that was only scratching the surface of what the magic was capable of! Changing shape was trivial compared to changing the very foundation of what something was. Teacup to rat and back? Match to needle? What were the limitations of the craft?
Learning that most magical objects and people were resistant to transfiguration was a comfort. He’d originally had nightmares about being changed into various inanimate objects or some other helpless creature. At least he didn’t have to worry about that from the majority of wizards. It was the ones that were truly powerful that he would need to keep an eye on, such as the Headmaster or perhaps the Defense Professor. The stories he was being told by the students about the former Auror (some kind of magical cop) were truly frightening.
Would he be able to copy Shirou’s ability to replicate swords? At least some of the properties? Maybe if he studied some of the swords to the point that he could truly understand them he would be able to transfigure his other elemental swords into something similar. His ability to analyze the structural integrity of an object wasn’t anything close to his adopted brother’s, but he at least understood the basics. It allowed him to strengthen the swords he formed from stone, wood, and metal.
When he had the chance, Harry would spend time with Professor McGonagall discussing transfiguration, the history and culture behind the magic, as well as the limits that have already been explored by previous generations. The teacher seemed delighted to have someone take so much of an interest in her subject, not to mention having stories about his parents and their time at Hogwarts. It was interesting to learn that his father had been somewhat of a transfiguration prodigy as well.
Many of the Ravenclaws joined him during his extra study sessions, more with each passing day. They were an interesting mix of studious and curious. He even found himself bonding with many of the younger ones, at least to start. His understanding of wand magic and wizarding magic in general was nearer to their level, though even as he advanced he made sure to keep those connections. He thoroughly enjoyed working with all of them.
Back home he only had Shirou to talk to about magic and considering that they both only had a basic understanding due to their father’s poor teaching, that wasn’t all that good. The only good thing out of the Grail War thus far had been Caster and interacting with Tohsaka as a magus rather than just fellow students.
Speaking of Caster…
“No, I’m not going to transfigure Draco into a ferret. I don’t care how annoying he is, he’s only a child and not any type of threat to me.”
“I think you’re missing an opportunity here, Harry. It lets you practice human transfiguration on targets that aren’t trying to kill you, without having to worry about as much of the consequences as you would back on our world.”
Harry frowned before slowly nodding. He hated to admit it but the Servant had a point.
***
“Dragons? We’re to face dragons for the first task?” Harry looked at Ludo Bagman, one of the Tournament organizers as well as one of the judges. The grin on the man’s face seemed a bit out of place for such an announcement.
“Yes, exactly! You’ll each reach into this bag here and draw forth a miniature of the dragon you are to face. There are four dragons in total, one for each of you.” The man smiled again, his gaze switching between the gathered champions, though Harry felt that gaze linger just a smidge too long on himself.
As the other champions went first to draw their dragons, Harry thought over what he knew about this world’s dragons, which amounted to absolutely nothing. It hadn’t come up during any of the Ravenclaw study sessions and wasn’t a subject that had been covered in any of his classes. In fact, this was the first time he’d even heard that there were dragons in this world.
Watching the other champions, he noticed that the ones from Durmstrang and Beauxbaton appeared more at ease than Cedric Diggory, the champion from Hogwarts. Were they more familiar with dragons? Or did they perhaps already know what this challenge might have entailed.
Harry’s attention was drawn to the miniatures being held by the other three champions. The tiny dragons were animated in some manner, fully ambulatory and he wondered just how faithful they were as a representation. What could he do with one of them?
When it was his time to draw a dragon, there was only one left. The Norwegian ridgeback. Ludo’s excited chatter washed over Harry as he focused on the tiny dragon. There were possibilities here.
Refocusing on the announcements, he asked, “So we just need to acquire the golden egg? Are there any limitations on what we’re allowed to do with the dragon?”
Bagman appeared confused by the question. “Other than only being allowed your wand in the arena, there are no other rules.”
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Harry glanced at the French champion for a moment, before turning an innocent look at Ludo. “I think most of us would look pretty silly going out there with nothing but a wand. Except for her, who I think would look amazing with just a wand.”
For a moment the tent was silent, until a guffaw escaped from Krum. Everyone else seemed to be staring at Harry. A slightly red Ludo Bagman stammered a correction to his statement that they could only be armed with a wand, but they were of course expected to be properly attired.
Shaking his head, Harry ignored the rest of the explanation. He had been chosen to face the dragon last as well as having picked last. That gave him time to solidify his plans.
***
Stepping into the arena, Harry glanced around the rock strewn floor, eyes drawn to the dragon standing protectively over a clutch of eggs. The golden egg gleamed among the others and his eyes narrowed. They wouldn’t really endanger actual dragon eggs just for a tournament, would they? From the brief history he’d been able to learn about the creatures, they were already rare. Something like that would be a treasured resource in his world.
Harry frowned. His original plan of skewering the creature with transfigured swords wasn’t going to be viable. Oh it would definitely work, but he didn’t want to risk killing the dragon. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the miniature version of the hornback. Drawing his wand, he casually tossed the model into the air, then cast a quick engorgio and banishment on it.
The enlarged dragon model grew to just slightly smaller than the original, and it landed a small distance away, hissing at the dragon, just out of fire breathing range.
Mother dragon did not appear to appreciate another dragon being so close to her eggs and struggled against the chain keeping her in place in her desire to force the other dragon from her territory. Harry transfigured some of the arena stone into a sword, then switched it to metal and fired it off at the chain. It cut just enough that the dragon was able to snap a link, freeing it to charge after the challenger.
Keeping a careful watch on the melee, Harry snuck closer to the nest before charging and snatching the golden egg free. His victory was short lived as the dragon seemed to sense his intrusion and snapped her head in his direction. He let out a yelp as it turned towards him, ignoring the dragon model that snapped ineffectively at her.
Fortunately, most likely due to his proximity to the nest, she didn’t immediately bathe him in fire. Unfortunately, she decided that a tail swipe was more appropriate.
Harry was sent flying, only a quickly created sword protecting him from being lacerated. He’d definitely have bruises to contend with.
Tumbling across the arena, he was barely able to find his feet at the end, trying to orient himself back towards the tent. Wasn’t the contest technically over? Someone should mention that to the dragon. Maybe freeing her hadn’t been the best idea. Skewering was beginning to look like a good idea again as he frantically dodged between rock outcroppings and the occasional giant form rock sword he dragged from the ground to protect himself.
Gasping for breath behind one such sword, Harry debated calling for Caster. The voice in his head told him to call for Caster. However, he was reluctant to reveal the presence of his Servant, for a number of reasons. Instead, he decided to go for a modified version of his original plan.
Blunted stone and metal swords tore and transfigured themselves from the surrounding stone before launching themselves to slam into the dragon. Other than hisses of annoyance, they weren’t hurting the dragon, but at least she wasn’t trying to barbeque him any more.
Peeking around the edge of the sword he was hiding behind, he watched the dragon for a moment, getting a sense for her movements. His swords switched their timing slightly, getting the dragon into a rhythm. Once he was sure of his plan, he transfigured the largest sword in his life, the blunted tip ripping from the floor to slam into the underside of the dragon’s jaw.
There was sort of a squeak and a grunt and what Harry would have sworn was a look of surprise in the dragon’s eyes, right before they rolled into the back of her head and the dragon swooned to the ground.
For a moment the arena was silent. The announcer shouting out that Harry had knocked out the dragon drew a roaring cheer from the crowd.
Harry just collapsed panting.
***
“Your compassion makes you weak, Harry.”
Harry frowned at Caster before turning to continue his practice. They were in the Room of Requirement, a secret chamber within Hogwarts that responded to the wishes of the person needing the room. Currently it was configured to resemble the dojo back home where he would practice sword techniques with Shirou.
“It is part of what keeps me human in a world of magic and Servants.” He paused, resting his sword on the ground for a moment. “And it helps keep me connected with dad.” His thoughts wandered to the man who had raised him and Shirou after the fire that had killed his relatives and left him twice orphaned.
Caster stood off to the side, arms crossed over his chest. “That does not change the facts, Harry. Had you allowed yourself to strike for blood at the beginning of the fight you would not have had as much trouble. You would not have risked injury. You would not have risked death.” Dark brown eyes narrowed. “You would not have risked my returning to the grail with my wish unfulfilled.”
“Ah. Now we reach the true meaning of your concern. Thank you for reminding me, Caster.”
Caster rolled his eyes. “My concern can be for us both, Harry. While I understand your desires here, I do not have to enjoy your methods. Showing weakness of any kind, even that of kindness, can get you hurt in the wizarding world, from those who shared my beliefs in the superiority of wizards.”
Harry nodded, then let his sword fade back into the magic the room had used to create it. This really was the best piece of magic he had ever seen or even heard of. Far superior to any mystical code.
“I don’t necessarily disagree with you, Caster. I’m just willing to suffer the consequences of my choices.”
Caster sighed. “Oh Harry, it is not your suffering that has me worried, but we’ll put that aside for now. Until then, we must think of what to do about your golden egg. The mermaid said that they would take something you would sorely miss, but that does not give us a clue as to what it could be. You don’t have many possessions in this world and I doubt they have the magic to reach into our world to take one of your precious people from there. It stands to reason that they would therefore take someone you associate with here. That would limit it to the student body that you interact with, mostly among the Ravenclaws in the study groups, as you don’t seem to have grown close to any of the other houses.”
“I’m only close to a few in Ravenclaw. We’ll have to see what we can do to keep them safe. Maybe some bounded fields around the dorm? Is there something we can do for them individually that…”
***
“A Yule Ball? Interesting? And because I’m a champion I am to bring a date. Thank you for telling me, Professor. I’ll get on that right away.”
Professor Flitwick smiled and patted Harry on the hip before walking away, happily humming. Harry watched the professor for a moment before shaking his head. Not what he had imagined but at least it gave him a better idea of who would be used for the second task. No doubt they would use his choice of date as evidence of the person being who he would sorely miss.
Turning back towards his room, he pondered the possibilities while mentally talking over some options with Caster. Perhaps they should warn whoever they ask to be their partner of what could happen with the next task. A bounded field to make them trackable…
***
Harry ignored the announcements for the task, focusing on the tracker he had on Padma. He had her general direction and what he supposed was depth. From what he could tell she would be about the center of the deepest part of the lake. Fortunately, Caster was able to teach him both a warming charm and the bubblehead charm.
Once the cannon fired, Harry cast both charms and dove into the water. Drawing a pair of large metal chunks from his pockets, he transfigured them into swords that flowed through the water beside him as he made his way towards his tracker.
It took only a few minutes to navigate the depths and reach what he assumed to be the mermaid village. What few pieces of lake life that tried to interfere were easily discouraged by sending his swords slashing in. Only one particularly persistent grindylow ended up with more than just a scratch, though that one would end up feeding other parts of lake life.
Spotting Padma tied to a rock, he quickly made his way over, using a sword to cut her free, then kicking to the surface with her in tow. As his head breached the surface and he heard Padma take a breath beside him, he had to wonder if that was supposed to be more difficult than it was.
***
“Think you’re pretty slick, don’t you, Potter.”
Harry paused on his way through the courtyard, turning to confront one of the few students at the school who had proved just as antagonistic as the potions professor, whose class he had stopped attending as he wasn’t actually a student in the school.
“What is this about now, Malfoy?”
Draco Malfoy, flanked by his two bodyguards, and followed by a gaggle of other students, mostly from Slytherin House, strode across the courtyard. “You just had to go and show up the true Hogwarts champion and show just how superior you think you are. Well I’ve just about had enough of your antics, Potter.”
Harry ignored the urge to skewer the young man. This wasn’t a combat situation. He wasn’t involved in a war for his life. Instead it was a one sided rivalry from a boy who seemed bound and determined to use Harry’s position as some type of savior of the wizarding world to advance his own standing.
“What antics would those be, Malfoy? After I completed the task I haven’t brought it up once. How have I tried to show I’m superior to anyone?”
Malfoy sneered. “You keep to yourself and don’t associate with anyone. You sneer at those who are your betters. You should know that there are some houses that are superior to others and you’ve failed to acknowledge that.”
Harry sighed. “Not once have I snubbed anyone who has approached me and asked me anything other than about my scar or what happened the night my parents were murdered. I actually spend almost every evening working with the students in Ravenclaw for study sessions and the sessions are open to any who want to join.”
That seemed to give Malfoy pause, though he rallied annoyingly fast. “Then why haven’t you invited any Slytherins?”
“It’s an open invitation. Everyone’s invited.”
There was some chatter behind Malfoy that quickly cut off when he turned his glare on the group. Harry had a feeling there might be more people in the study group going forward. Mentally shrugging, he turned to continue across the courtyard.
“Don’t turn your back on me, scarhead!”
“I’ll teach you to try and curse someone in the back.”
Harry glanced back to see a bouncing ferret being controlled by the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Giving a nod to the man, he turned and headed inside. That was definitely something he would need to try the next time he was training in the Room of Requirement.
***
“I’m sorry, Caster, but could you repeat that?”
“It would appear that your Professor Moody is in fact one of my Death Eaters, Bartemius Crouch Jr., using polyjuice. The real Alastor is locked in the chest in the office.”
Harry blinked at Caster for a moment before reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You’ve been spying on the Professors while in astral form. I should have expected that, since you did the same at school.”
“And had I not, you two would never have learned about Shinji. You may not like my methods, Harry, but we are in this together. Be thankful I agree to your methods for most things.”
Harry sighed before nodding. “Sorry Caster, you’re right. You’ve helped a lot and I haven’t been taking full use of your capabilities while we’ve been here. Because this wasn’t our world and the tournament didn’t seem to be as urgent as the Grail War, I haven’t been giving it the same consideration.”
Leaning back in his chair, he looked up at the ceiling for a moment before turning gaze back to Caster. “So what do you think we should do? I can think of a few ideas but I’d like to hear what you’ve thought of.”
Caster smiled. “I believe it may be time to deal with my local self.”
***
Caster knew some truly nasty spells. Even just the ones he allowed Harry to study and learn. Still, the results spoke to themselves. One Death Eater captured, one slain, and one homunculus destroyed. While that wouldn’t fully stop the Voldemort of this world, it would significantly delay him.
Harry and Caster had debated on whether to search out the various horcrux but ultimately decided that the risks weren’t worth it, especially as they wouldn’t be remaining in this world come the end of the tournament. They would leave some notes though. Wouldn’t do to leave the people completely defenseless. Besides, he had made some friends. A crooked smile adorned his lips for a moment. Some very good friends indeed.
***
The final task proved extremely boring, both to the participants and the audience. Harry rather enjoyed it. As the audience cheered Cedric who had retrieved the Cup, Harry watched with a smile, an astral Caster at his back.
There was a tug of magic and fire began to swirl at Harry’s feet. Just as he was beginning to disappear, he heard the voice in his head.
“Oh, by the way, I killed Snape and framed Dumbledore for it."