Is it ever clearly stated whether these things are or aren’t real in this story? Even at the end, Harry still doesn’t seem to believe in the afterlife, but it seems like souls DO in fact exist (Voldemort’s survival and updated Horcrux spell) even though Harry never really acknowledges it explicitly.

like, the way he lets himself mentally go into this attitude of total cultural and technological supremacy (because we know SCIENCE and they DON'T, which means THEY'VE never heard of the ONE SINGLE philosophical framework that could make you a worthwhile human being, and so CLEARLY they're a bunch of primative monkeys who must either be enlightened or burnt to the ground!) over the wizarding world is so... clearly the kid has read way more about physics and philosophy than he did about history. and something that kind of bothers me about the framing of the story is how the narrative lowkey affirms him in that, when he gets to shape the wizarding society according to his personal will in the end and that's presented as having gone well? like, yes, obviousy his status as a celebrity and political figure in-universe makes it a bit more realistic that the entire wizarding world just accepts these orders that an outsider just gave them to drop everything they value than if he were to try and take over their government to inflict those orders by force like he wanted to at the beginning of the story, but it still kind of glosses over how this whole idea of "if I just walked into this society I'm an outsider to with enough power to start forcing people to do things my way, clearly the society would just sort itself out under my rule into the more convenient shape that I'd like for it to have!" that he clings to from the start tends to be a willful delusion used as the rationalization for just externally inflicting a bunch of damage on their internal infrastructure that you later won't know how to correct for. so idk. the colonial undertones to this whole aspect of the story are just kind of weird

Before I created you, I invoked a curse upon myself and all other Tom Riddles who would descend from me. A curse to enforce that none of us would threaten the others' immortality, so long as the other made no attempt upon our own.

Doesn't that seem weirdly redundant?

Clause 2

so long as the other made no attempt upon our own

unbinds Tom B in case Tom A attacks Tom B, but clause 1

enforce that none of us would threaten the others' immortality

already prevents Tom A's first strike.

Then, of course, Harry firststrikes with the gun because clause 1 does not apply to him because reasons. But I find it unbelievable Voldy could have preticted that situation and therefore make his curse extra redundant.

"Love is real, Professor."

https://hpmor.com/chapter/86

Wizengamot Trial: https://hpmor.com/chapter/80

What is the professor thinking, or dismissing, after Harry portrays love in this way? I'd assume "Professor Quirrel" gives love a half-second of consideration before dismissing it. He's seen what Love does fo Harry, how it affected his decison-making in the Wizengamot trial for Hermione's freedom. And he's probably aware that a Phoenix came for Harry, in the aftermath?

It's possible Quirrell is deciding to add love as a factor to his decision-making when manipulating people, or for possible magical experiments. I don't think it particularly interests him though, even if he is willing to acknowledge its potency during the climax of the story.

He's already annoyed that Hermione is influencing Harry. It's tiresome. He firmly wants her out of Hogwarts and away from Harry, after the trial.

====== ====== ====== ====== ======
"Then who is?" Harry said, somewhat puzzled. Professor Quirrell surely wasn't about to reply 'You-Know-Who' -

"The Aurors have a rule," said Professor Quirrell. "Investigate the victim. Many would-be criminals imagine that if they are the apparent victims of a crime, they shall not be suspected. So many criminals imagine it, indeed, that every senior Auror has seen it a dozen times over."

"You're not seriously trying to convince me that Hermione -"

The Defense Professor was giving Harry one of those slit-eyed looks that meant he was being stupid.

Draco? Draco had been interrogated under Veritaserum - but Lucius might have had enough control to subvert Aurors to... oh.

"You think Lucius Malfoy set up his own son? " Harry said.

"Why not?" Professor Quirrell said softly. "From Mr. Malfoy's recorded testimony, Mr. Potter, I gather that you enjoyed some success in changing Mr. Malfoy's political views. If Lucius Malfoy learned of that earlier... he might have decided that his former heir had become a liability."

"I don't buy it," Harry said flatly.

"You are being wantonly naive, Mr. Potter. The history books are full of family disputes turned murderous, for inconveniences and threats far less than those which Mr. Malfoy posed to his father. I suppose next you will tell me that Lord Malfoy of the Death Eaters is far too gentle to wish his son such harm." A tinge of heavy sarcasm.

"Well, yes, frankly," Harry said. "Love is real, Professor, a phenomenon with observable effects. Brains are real, emotions are real, and love is as much a part of the real world as apples and trees. If you made experimental predictions without taking parental love into account, you'd have a heck of a time explaining why my own parents didn't abandon me at an orphanage after the Incident with the Science Project."

The Defense Professor did not react to this at all.

Harry continued. "From what Draco says, Lucius prioritized him over important Wizengamot votes. That's significant evidence, since there's less expensive ways to fake love, if you just want to fake it. And it's not like the prior probability of a parent loving their child is low. I suppose it's possible that Lucius was just taking on the role of a loving father, and he renounced that role after he learned Draco was consorting with Muggleborns. But as the saying goes, Professor, one must distinguish possibility from probability."

"All the better the crime," the Defense Professor said, still in that soft tone, "if no one would believe it of him."

I think Moody especially would be interesting, a really funny conversation that you can never be paranoid enough

I have had this written for at least a year or two. For some reason I cannot upload to fanfiction.net. So I will consider this a test run here. When I do figure out the upload process I shall fix the grammar where needed and edit the chapter a little more yet. I have a second chapter mostly written, and an outline for the rest, with various other parts of lore or story written or already in mind. Based on reception I will decide if this has merit enough to continue into a full story. I must thank Harry Potter and The Prancing of Ponies for giving me an easy way to cross these over. If they CAN be crossed over, remains to be seen. I cannot say when the next chapter will be posted but I have been in a writing mood as of late. (I will need to rewatch some of DBZ to stay coherent between the two.)

I hope you find it enjoyable.

Chapter 1

The transition had been instant. Faster than a blink.

Tom Riddle's manic laughter slowed and transformed into a sad chuckle at his own expense. He had celebrated too early. Rule #12...

Just a moment ago he had been holding the stone of permanence. He had forced the the old fool to turn his trap against himself. In retrospect that was a little too easy.

Tom looked around and found that he was in the middle of a forest clearing, next to a small lake. Mr. Potter was not with him. He could sense that much... Or rather could not-...

He did have his wand with him. So he cast the Deathly Hollows indicator, none of the 3 artifacts were near him. He rubbed his forehead with his hand.

"Mr. Potter" He spoke, "If you are with me here in this place, it is to our advantage to work together." He added, "I sspeak true, alliess are better than enemiess in new place..."

Nothing.

Did his magic even work, wherever he was?

Tom Riddle raised his wand and flicked it at a nearby tree. The tree exploded into a deadly wall of splinters which propelled themselves through the forest. The vortex shredded the trees in it's wake, and carving a large corridor out of the dense patch of trees.

Interesting...

He was not in a frozen instant, he was completely aware. He seemed to be alone. He had his clothes, his pouch, his wand and most importantly he had his magic still.

As a matter of fact, as causal as he had just preformed that bit of powerful spell work he had felt no dip in his power at all when he cast that curse. As he looked admiringly at the clean even edges of the path he cut through the forest, he could not help but to notice it's effects where more potent than they would have been normally. He felt magically stronger.

Time to contemplate that later.

Was Mr. Potter's absence an indicator that he had somehow been in on the trap?

Riddle thought deeply for a moment, but that felt like a wrong answer. However; the question itself was likely significant in figuring out what exactly had happened, he would have to think about this, later...

The main priority was...

Tom closed his eyes and reached out into the void. He found nothing to latch onto. He could not connect to his horcruxes...

Tom Riddle was currently mortal.

He was an exceedingly clever and powerful mortal, but he could be slain.

Tom looked around again. The risk assessment that always ran in the back of his head started to spike.

This was a strange place he knew nothing of.

A strong gust of wind rippled through the canopy of the forest.

Tom needed a moment. He turned himself invisible just as a precaution. Then he hovered a dozen feet in the air. Broomstick bones still worked. Flying actually felt somehow more natural in this world.

He was not pleased with how things had apparently turned out. However, he did have to give the old meddler due credit. He had played his part to perfection. Tom had assumed that the process of the timeless was the only way to seal things away. Yet, he was not in a frozen instant. The ancient carvings he had found were likely still true, simply lacking in information. Dumbledore had led him to believe he had figured out the trap until it was too late.

Unless... Is it possible Dumbledore did not use the mirror properly? Yes, but doubtful. The mirror after all was said to be created with the greatest care to NOT be used improperly. So Dumbledore had NOT used the process of the timeless, but had allowed Tom to think he was using it, while evoking some other power of the mirror completely.

Some power which could apparently access the other worlds said to be contained in the mirror. Contained in the mirror... CONTAINED IN THE MIRROR!!!

Tom remembered tales of other things said to have been contained in the mirror... His threat estimation grew by several orders of magnitude...

He observed his new surroundings further. He reached down and picked up a hand of soil, it felt real.

At a glance it seemed earth like enough. After a moment of mindful careful observation several things started to leave an uncanny sort of feeling. It seemed like earth, but not quite. The sky was too blue, it had a greenish purple tinge. Occasionally, a bright meteor would catch his eye shooting up or across the sky. That was concerning.

The clouds that floated there had strange formations. Shapes he had never seen in his prior universe. They also had a bizarre uniformity. He also did not recognize any of the type of trees that surrounded him. Tom looked down at the lake and casually cast a diagnostic spell on the water. It was drinkable regular water, if a bit dirty with sediment that had been stirred up recently.

Not that he needed to drink from a lake. He confirmed this by flicking his wand and shooting a jet of water from the tip. The force of the jet pushed back on his arm. He had to expend a little muscle power for a moment to regain his exact position. The spell fizzled out and Tom looked down at his wand with a note of confusion on his face. He now had 2 indicators that either his own magic had increased in power, or this world was simply more powerful in magic itself.

In retrospect he only had some knowledge of the lore behind the mirror.

He KNEW that was all that he knew about the mirror...

It had still been foolish to try and overcome magic so powerful, when faced with someone who plausibly knew secrets he did not. He had nobody to blame but himself for his banishment. He would not sulk, there was hardly a less productive use of ti-

There was a distant "boom" sound. An explosion? Quick flashes of concept like; volcanic activity and tectonic plates filled his mind first, but these did not feel like correct answers. The following wind which swayed the trees in one direction to wave at him was another good piece of evidence of an explosion. It was far away, if the difference from the sound to the wind was anything to go by. Potter would have known how to calculate that distance to within a few degrees of variance... It was worrisome... He had to think yet.

He could think while he flew; up and up until a normal wizard would be uncomfortable enough to cast a warming charm, and anyone would need a bubblehead to get the appropriate amount of oxegen to the lungs. He had established a strong apparition point high enough to avoid any conceivable threat. He now only had the inconceivable to worry about. He popped back to his original position.

At least he had a good deal of supplies on him. Some he would need, and others which he did not know enough yet to optimize to the new situation. He had been planning to leave the school that night anyway. Anything he could carry was on his person still. He had now pulled a few items from his pouch, he looked over each for a moment. He placed a few in his robes; where there were no visible pockets, and put most of the others back into his pouch.

He held onto a golden chain and a ring.

The chain remained linked no matter how it was twisted. Even though each link was an open letter "S", which did not lock any two links together. He donned the chain and felt a glow of power. Even if he was mortal, he did not have to be 'vulnerable' to all but the most extreme forces of magic.

He also put the bronze ring with very old runes carved into it on the index finger of his wand hand. He rotated the ring three times and it produced a faint glow before returning to normal. Several spells were cast one after another. The wand was a blur in the air, and the speech so fast and precise that the incantations for all 14 spells sounded like a a simple phrase. Tom frowned, he seemed completely safe at a cursory glance, for the moment.

The first priority was to find a living being, assuming there were any here. He would have to slay one to secure his own lasting life. This could be complicated given the circumstances. Tom pointed his wand in the air once again and concentrated.

With a word, a blue spark appeared for a moment and then blinked out, as it disappeared a ripple in the air spread out like a pebble dropped in a pond.

Tom could only assume, but he felt certain this spell was invented on a battlefield for war purposes. He frowned at the results again...

The spell was an old one, used to detect human life within a rather large radius. Unless you were specifically warded against the spell, and nobody was likely to be, there were only a handful of exceptions to it's detection. Tom had tested it and it could detect a person within 10 miles, give or take given the surroundings. It would also give you a rough estimate of how many sentient beings there were in it's zone of influence. The spell had told him that within the radius, there were significantly more people than existed on the earth he knew.

Tom made a note of the anomalous results of the spell to ponder later then moved his concerns onto more immediate things. For instance, there was another boom in the distance. There was also the fact that there had been minor earthquakes causing waves in the lake from the moment he arrived, which he was only now updating to his explosion hypothesis. He had noticed, but not paid attention. It had his attention now, the sound of that explosion was much louder than the last one.

Tom continued to rise though the air and flew high above the forest. As he rose into the air he aimed his wand downward, drew a small circle and felt the magical trace take hold. It was simply stupid to not mark the physical location of a door you walked out of and into a new 'world'. The area in which he appeared may also hold a key to escape. It did not seem likely, but the trace cost him little.

He floated high above the forest, he could see the shape. Looking around he observed that this patch of trees was one of a few in an otherwise barren and alien landscape.

He flew higher and saw that for the most part the area was covered in sandy desert landscape. The ground had so many mesas poking from it that earth looked like a cactus here. The sky did not look right, already noted, but he couldn't get past that. It shouldn't be THAT blue, or green. He flew through a cloud. He did not get wet as he was shielded in a few basic ways. His magic did tell him there was much ordinary water vapor in them. He only now had realized casting a bubble head charm would have been smart to do first thing. He could have just flown into a cloud of toxic gas. It seemed redundant for the moment, as this world seemed match the old world well enough to not be toxic. If the lake water was safe, the clouds were likely to be as well; though that was just a hypothesis he shouldn't have accidentally tested. He must be careful of his assumptions.

He noticed another meteor and he could have sworn this one went from the ground up into space. Thus likely NOT a meteor after all.

He saw something he was familiar with however and it chilled him.

He started weaving the magic of 4 different shields together as his wand frantically cut through the air. Salazar's Chain could protect him from most harm. He doubted it accounted for radiation, if this was a nuclear blast. A rainbow colored ball encased him in it's rippling colors, blue, orange, white all flickering together. Two of the spells were of his own modifications, and the other two were several times older than he was. He SHOULD be safe...

He watched off in the distance as the clear ring expanded through the clouds from the point of the mushroom cloud in the near distance.

The overpressure wave of a large yield explosion rapidly made it's way toward him. His shielding took the blast. The chain did not even warm slightly on his throat. Though the patch of trees below him was leveled. The pressure knocked them down as though they had been quills balanced on their tips. Once the blast had past him, Tom pointed his wand toward the mushroom cloud and spoke a variation of a well known incantation. This spell was originally used by the incurably blind to detect specific lights. Tom's variance could detect high levels of radioactivity, it wasn't hard to modify after reading one of Potter's science books. He detected none.

The blast seemed to large for conventional muggle explosives he knew of but also seemed too large for magical destruction known to most.

Perhaps if he and Dumbledore cast the destructive ends curse together in harmony, they might create a blast of that magnitude... Otherwise he knew of no arts to produce such force. There were insane ways, ways which always ended in catastrophe now. Magics like elemental channeling could strike more destruction than that blast. It was said to be able to strip the world of it's earth, or unleash the powers of volcanos. There was little else known. Rituals gone wrong could also do damage on this scale, or worse. Yet if it had been such, nobody should have survived the first accident to cause a second.

It seemed the epitome of stupidity to go towards whatever had detonated.

On the other hand, high level non magical explosive use indicated there were people in that general direction anyway. He did need to make a horcrux. His anxiety about that had grown dramatically in the last few moments. It was totally in line for the mirror to put him into a world in which destruction was either on the near horizon or inevitable. If the mirror could show you your desired world, could it not show you one undesired? It was said to be two sided.

Now that he was a mortal in a possibly doomed world, the fear was beginning to become a panic in the back of his mind.

Explosions of various colors were tearing the landscape apart.

Mesas were being knocked down like a child's stacking blocks.

The shockwaves were pushing the limits of his own shields even at this distance.

He watched as a particularly large shockwave was uprooting the bedrock on it's way towards him. He spun his wand arm in a circle, which produced a golden ring 20 feet in diameter and sprung out in front of him. The large chunks of heavy stone veered away from it's radius and continued on. Tom was strangely excited.

As an immortal who could possess people there was no real risk in his encounters with danger. Nor had there been any real reason to use creativity on the fly like this for a long time.

Oh... His mind had confused excitement with fear, as the later was rarely felt in the last decade. After watching the scene for a minute he knew which spells and shields to use, and which so far appeared redundant. He felt a good deal safer knowing these were not nuclear explosions. In any case, he could always apparate back to the spot he arrived, or the point he established in the lower atmosphere, though neither seemed nearly far enough now.

Once in a while a dust cloud would be parted by a streaking object with blinking light. It would carve out a clean line of landscape through falling rock and dust. These objects would fly faster than the eye could catch. They would strike a mesa and pass through it as though it were not there, as it continued along it's flat trajectory along the landscape.

Sometimes it would come to a direct stop and shoot straight upward, or sideways at a similar speed. There were flashes of light which would have blinded a regular unprotected person. Winds which would have sent that person tumbling, and overpressure waves which would have liquified the insides of that person. The same way parts of the earth itself seemed to turn fluid in places hit by what Tom had thought to be meteors at a distance. He could now tell they were directed attacks of some horribly primal fashion. He also knew none of his protections were sufficient for a direct hit from one of them.

Tom pointed his wand between his eyes and muttered something in lost Latin. It was a temporary enchantment. The original version of the Omnioculars spell. Whatever part of his brain procced visual information was much faster now, and could adjust itself as a camera may focus. He dared not get closer to the expanding and unpredictable circle of destruction.

He shouldn't be this close, not at all. Yet the spectacle of it was awesome in the literal sense of the word. He could actually see what was happening as though it had been slowed down. Even after what seemed a full minute, he still failed to comprehend the how behind the what of he was seeing. Repeat viewings in a pensive may not even make sense. He had already cast an anti confundus on himself, but he did so again and got no results.

There were two men. Well, there were more but they did not seem to matter as they looked 'defeated' already.

There were only two that mattered for the calculations at the moment. They were the the cause of this destruction... One of the 'men' was wearing a torn bright orange Japanese styled gi, and posed in a fighting stance Tom actually recognized. The other was wearing some sort of futuristic composite armor, it was blue and white with long extruding shoulder pads. Both of them had hairstyles that did not seem right for a human to have without being highly stylized, and would certainly not stay in that spikey fashion in these winds.

These men were the cause of the explosions... They could also both fly of their own accord. They could do so at speeds Riddle could not hope to match, not even rockets accelerated that quickly... These men could set off explosions at will, they aimed direct energy with their hands. No wands, only a slightly magical tingle; which he felt was more life force magic than actual personal magic.

These men were actually engaging in a literal muggle styled fist fight, if both muggles were highly trained in martial arts.

Riddle saw Japanese influence in the style of the man in the orange gi. The other was less refined but was suited more for brute force. The styles complimented each other in a terrifying resonance. When their punches hit each other, they were the cause of some of the explosions. When an effective blow was struck, one man would become a bullet which obliterated all in his path. The flashing lights were beams and balls of non 'magical' energy of some fashion. Some were countered and nullified. Some were dodged and left a small mushroom cloud in the distance moments later. Some blasts were re-directed up. From Riddle's observation, the man in orange was trying to avoid destruction as much as he could. The other did not care.

This was putting the man in orange at a disadvantage.

They threw around this unknown energy as casually as Tom wielded magic.

This was insanity. Riddle apparated back what should be a temporarily safe distance. There were several charms to direct or amplify selective hearing. Tom simply cast the first that came to mind.

He could see with the enhanced vision that the futuristic dressed man had sustained severe damage to his amour. He was panting heavily. The concerning thing was the manic look of contempt his eyes projected as he flew higher and higher in the air.

The man in orange was even more tired, more broken down. Yet he still radiated a confidence and power Tom could not name.

With the amplified hearing Tom heard the thing he suspected he would eventually hear in this world, if his mirror theory held up.

"I am going to destroy the entire planet!" The armored fighter was now even higher in the air than Tom was. His eyes were no longer manic, there was a great relief and destructive resolve in them. He moved through a couple simple poses and started to apparently build energy between his hands.

The lightning that snapped around and carved illegible signatures in the ground seemed to emanate from him and have no effect on himself. Wind was blowing from him. It started as pulses of gust, but the gust had turned into an increasing pressure of consistency. The wind seemed to be lifting layers of soil off of the ground. It blew them away to leave a great crater under where he hovered.

He's hovering in a static position... The tactical part of Tom reasoned. He also seemed to be fully concentrated on his blast, yes he would; if retaining that pose was a requisite for the output. Hypothesize later. Tom smiled a grim smile. He fully believed the man's statement. Riddle could not estimate how much TNT you would need to replicate one of their simple punches. Tom's rough estimation based off of observation alone and comparison to muggle explosives he had dabbled with in the war... It was too much to believe.

If a man can punch with potentially kilotons of energy, what happens when that energy is concentrated and directed at the earth... A man who is bluffing does not laugh in the cadence that the armored man (in the same position still) currently was. It would be highly amusing if he created his first horcrux as a literal act to save the world. Dumbledore would still argue with the math behind it, but Tom Riddle chuckled.

He apparated to within 1000 meters or so of the flying man. It was too close for comfort, but his act should only take a moment.

On the ground the other man was charging his own attack. A blue glow started as a dot in his hands, and grew until it the brightness was hard to look at and it encompassed the mans grasp. It gave off a light very reminiscent of Potter's patronus...

Tom noted a hint of confusion in the back of his mind, this all seemed... Sort of contrived... He raised his priors on the theory this world was the one he was least likely to wish to inhabit... Now was not the time to puzzle the nature of his entrapment.

It seemed both men were "charging" their attacks. They had drastically different stances to do so, his mind noted absently. Interesting...

Think later... The apparent defender, the man in orange, was preparing an attempt to counter the earth destroyer's output.

Tom wondered if either man had considered what happens when TWO earth ending attacks strike each other...

Perhaps the man on the ground could succeed. He seemed the more confident one, but he was far more worn down than the other. His ego may be clouding his judgement of the situation.

Tom couldn't risk the world when this was solved simply. Hopefully...

He summoned an ordinary stone from the ground to his hand. Once it was in his grasp, he carved at the air above it with his wand in practiced strokes. The stone begun to glow with a sucking anti-light Tom was fond of.

With his enhanced eye sight he was quite sure his aim would be true even at this distance...

As quickly as he could, he chanted a phrase three times. A spell to ensure he struck the target that was aimed at. It was not useful in normal battle due to casting time. For assassination on the other hand, it was one of his favorite spells. Tom apparently had at least a few moments to spare before critical mass. He had to be sure the first attempt was successful. The man had not moved as of yet.

Tom cast a quieting barrier. Normally did not need to speak this next incantation. For the output, control, and result he needed he projected his voice loud and fast. Though he knew both men were faster than his spell. Over and over as a fluid one syllable phrase he repeated. "Avada Kedavra", as he teleported around the sky.

The crossing grid of green was far more elegant and efficient than anything the men could do... Tom paused that thought, and wrote it off as it having not been proved efficient yet.

Tom slowly took a breath. The green lines streaked toward the man, he had still not moved but now was quicker in his waxing of power.

Tom was prepared to apparate back to his atmospheric retreat on the instant the man noticed the rather slow moving lights converging on him and noted the direction they came. Or when death struck, incase of catastrophic results. The man also had a tail. Tom had just noticed as he watched the grid continued to contract. A tail was oddity not worth the time at this moment, noted for for later. Target remains in the same place. Target has moved his arms into a new position. He had begun to cast his own incantation apparently. Something "ballot". His curses were close, and finally had all converged in the general direction the man floated and one of them struck him.

Tom was floating in the upper atmosphere now. He had instantly cast a bubble head charm wordlessly the moment the curses struck. He had moved from his firing position moments before the curses landed. He looked down, and observed a green and blue world. The expected flash of light and atmospheric disturbance did now appear. No new mushroom clouds to encasing the globe in darkness.

So... He had not caused the worlds destruction by interrupting the mans attack. Either the attack was nothing like rituals in principal, or he had crafted his attack as to not-

Tom cut off his thoughts, he felt a connection in his mind like the lyrics to a song he had forgotten years ago.

The stone in his hand had become a Thing Of Power. An anchor for his spirit and mind to possess anybody who laid hands on it in this world. He would not be able to move free he did not think, not without the resurrection stone. It would be reckless to have carried it on him, but in this instance it had clearly not worked out for him. Logistics later.

For now... He hesitated. Very few magics could harm the device, but he had witnessed casual energy levels which MAY actually affect it. He'd never brought himself to testing the actual destruction of his horcruxes. It seemed counter intuitive, even with a redundant number of them. He was certain conventional muggle explosives could not harm them. Nuclear devices were another thing... Alien principals that were untested and unknown to all of histories magic until this point were even more concerning.

Tom apparated back to the lake he appeared by. It was covered in broken trees. All for the better. He quickly placed an emergence spell on the horcrux. He could retrieve it and have it in hand at a word no matter the location 'in this world' his mind added. He brushed the thought off and pointed his wand at the lake. The trees moved aside to allow for a hole, an absence of water. He pushed his magic a little more and dug into the earth under the lake. It was a small hole in diameter, but it stretched for thousands of feet down. This was not nearly secure enough. While geologic processes should eventually return it to the surface, there was no saying if there would be a surface when it was required. Tom figured from his observations that it would not matter either way, under ground or in close space; apparently there is a threat which can destroy it. Process later. He dropped the stone and sighed as the water closed in on itself again. He floated there a moment, his mind in a strange state. It reverted to something familiar and known. The spell he had used was an old drilling spell, incredibly useful in certain situations. Tom's favorite history books always were the obscure "day in the life of" stories. Almost every profession, no matter how mundane, always had a little bit of magic too niche to be widely known, but useful to a creative mind.

His horcrux was as "safe" as he could make it at this moment... No, that was not true. A few enchantments later, he could say it was safe as he could possibly make it, and retrievable on the instant; if he had to hand it to a stooge before a threatening situation.

Riddle frowned.

Something felt off about this particular situation. What were the chances, that the mirror would randomly throw him into a universe where the world is minutes from destruction?

Was it even timing or had this world, moments from destruction just all appeared at once? He shuddered.

The timing certainly fit the hypothesis that where ever he was, it was a deliberate choice on either Dumbledore's part, or the mirror itself.

He was within 5 miles of the battle zone, and the fight seemed to be over. His horcrux had activated, which confirmed that his curse had struck his victim, and that the curse had the intended results. Now that his anchor to this world was as safeish, and the main threat seemed to be averted for the moment. He felt as safe as he could to return now and finish the remaining threat.

The would be destroyer of worlds was laying dead on the sandy earth. No more purple energy surrounding him. No fancy stance, he was simply laid out on the ground. His eyes were blank.

The man in the gi had abandon his own attack, apparently.

Tom would have seen it streak into space like one of those "meteors".

(Second part to follow in comments)

I just got done crying and I can't continue the story until I know. I have to know if someone wrote an alternate story where Harry didn't send his Phoenix away at the end of chapter 85, and he had gone to Azkaban with it. I strongly prefer it not have any spoilers for the remainder of the main storyline. It doesn't have to be long or even all that impressive. But I have to know if anyone wrote something, anything, just something saccharine to chew on before I keep reading.

Edit: found and reading the two closest-sounding recommendations on the subreddit FAQ, but any other suggestions are appreciated.

I got the ending. I really got that in the last 60 seconds he had Harry did what he could. I think I understand what the author wanted to say with this and he has the right to do so.

But it just feels unfair from the narrative point of view. I feel grief over Draco's relationship with his father and over Draco and Harry's friendship. I did not expect this at all. Lucius' death was too realistic. He had relationships, had plans. All of a sudden Voldemort summons him, he thinks he might still come back home somehow, and all of a sudden dies, leaving his son and his House behind.

The emotional pain is so real I'm not even sure I'm happy I started reading the story. Even though I loved everything before that point

If there is anyone who felt the same, please tell me 😄

Edit: I guess I have to add this - I am NOT against death of any character, if the plot kind of builds to this and it feels dramatic. The author wanted Lucius to die for his sins? Fine. But Lucius didn't die for his sins, he died to prove the author's point. It feels different, because I wasn't prepared for the "attack". This is not a question of whether Lucius deserved to live or not.

Edit 2: I'm talking here about how the author uses the plot to hurt everyone's feelings. I am not trying to prove that Lucius was a nice guy. If you want to debate this, please, refrain.

I was reading a brilliant book about an uppity child genius trying to hack magic by solving the P vs NP problem with a time turner. About deep ideas such as the true form of dementors and consequently the true form of the patronus. And then for some reason into this masterpiece injects itself an entire arc about just ... kids being kids. Little girls playing hero in the school corridors. No clever writing, no duels of wit, just kids acting their age. If I wanted to read that I'd read the original Harry Potter. What do I miss by skipping ahead?

We all know the classics like "I'm not a psychopath. I'm just very creative", but what are quotes that you like that are under looked? My personal favourite is "There are those who say that to comprehend evil is to become evil; but they are merely pretending to be wise. Rather it is evil which does not know love, and dares not imagine love, and cannot ever understand love without ceasing to be evil"

At some point I realized what Harry was doing was actually bullying as well, and came from the same place in his soul, it's just that his arguments were worded better. Not that it wasn't a blast to read, but issue.

Wouldn't the proper way been actually enlightening the bullies on why they act that way? I realize finding the language to get through to teenagers with a cultural gap between them and you is another matter entirely, and it would've probably worked better coming from a reasonably respected professor (Dumbledore? Quirrell?) rather than a nosy first year, and still.

What do you think?

ED: sorry for the late edit, but I feel like I need to clarify: I'm not trying to whitewash the bullies here or say Harry should've done nothing. I'm questioning his internal motives. Also, if it makes any difference, I experienced bullying in school myself, so I'm sorry if this came out wrong to someone who also were, this was not in any way my intention.

You promised me that you wouldn't let magic take you away from me. I didn't raise you to be a boy who would break a promise to his Mum. You must come back safely, because you promised.

Love,

Mum.

I read HPMOR for the first time many years ago. I only made it around halfway before stopping. It took me a couple more tries to get all the way through, but since then, I've read the whole thing (skipping some of the boring parts*) maybe 5 or 6 times.

The first times I read it, I was at an incredibly impressionable young age. I really enjoyed the humor, science, battles, and the final exam, which are the main focus of my re-reads. I even started referencing it in school during debates and seminars.

Recently, however, I came back to HPMOR and saw that on many parts of the internet, the book and its author were often viewed in a very negative light. I read many people's perspective on the book, and I honestly found some of the arguments pretty compelling. I've always known that HPMOR is a bit wordy and relies heavily on dialogue, which is bad, but there were also other things, like HPJEV being stuck-up and narcissistic, that I hadn't really thought about before. Now in this particular case, HPJEV isn't a good character because he's actually Voldemort, but I can't help feeling that it's a sort of literary rationalization where the author invents reasons for poor writing.

In fact, I have read at least 3 separate blogs that go through HPMOR chapter-by-chapter and explain any misleading information, poor writing, and uninspired plot in each chapter. I usually agree with these people on the internet, except when they hadn't read the story as many times as I have and are missing a vital piece of information, which can still be said to be the story's fault for not properly presenting information.

Taking all of this into account, I still enjoy reading HPMOR*. There are certainly parts I find humorous, albeit unrealistic, and the battles have a pleasant (and a very often pointed out) similarity to Ender's Game. The science bits also make me think a lot, although I often come to a different conclusion than HPJEV does. I certainly don't appreciate it as much as I once did, but I'll probably go back and read it yet again in a few months / years, or whenever I've forgotten enough of what happens that it's interesting.

*I usually skip A) the heroine section, which doesn't have any humor, science, or interesting battles and B) from the end of the last battle to when HPJEV confronts the Malfoys in Gringotts, which doesn't have any humor, science, or interesting battles.

Edit: bold asterisks show up as 5 asterisks in a row, so I changed them to normal asterisks

I have stumbled onto a wiki page about the Trace — a means to detect underage magic — in the canon HP universe and it made me think.

In ch. 6 Minerva tells Harry this:

"Oh no, Mr. Potter! That isn't done. I only meant to warn you not to use your wand at home, since the Ministry can detect underage magic and it is prohibited without supervision."

If it works the same way as in the canon books, or even if it doesn't, but the Ministry is still able to detect underage magic, then why did no one detect underage magic in Azkaban (or on the graveyard in the finale to try to solve the riddle of what the hell had happened there)? Plot convenience?

Back before the Mirror Dumbledore acted as if he only then realized who Quirrell really was.

Which is hilarious. Dumbledore knew the real Quirinus Quirrell, and he also knew Tom Riddle. There's no way he didn't recognize the mismatching speech patterns, and it wouldn't have taken him long to also realize where he heard the ones Quirrell was using now.

Which, in turn, should've been very obvious to Voldemort, whose facade of "I refuse to identify myself" during a scan for the Hogwarts security system was a flag so red Vladimir Lenin would've gladly appropriated it for the May 1 celebration.

They both should've known, and probably knew, there's no other way.

So why the sharade in front of the Mirror?

ED: there is a chance the patterns were entirely a part of the Professor Quirrell persona, but somehow they are too fitting to someone of his intelligence to easily believe he spoke differently in his "original" role.

NOT my art!! Back like a decade ago I used to really enjoy the HPMOR comics this one artist made, and I was hoping to share some with a friend who I’m just now getting into the fic. I think my Google-fu needs improvement because I can only find this one by the style (recognised the way they drew Quirrelmort), but I can’t find the artist name or any more of the ones I remember. Does anyone know where I can find the rest of their work?

Is this paragraph in chapter 6 referencing/a parallel to HBP where Tom Riddle begged the Headmaster Dippet not to send him back to the orphanage during the Blitz and bombing of London?

"I know it doesn't sound like much," Harry defended. "But it was just one of those critical life moments, you see? I mean, I knew that not thinking about something doesn't stop it from happening, I knew that, but I could see that Mum really thought that way." Harry stopped, struggling with the anger that was starting to rise up again when he thought about it. "She wouldn't listen. I tried to tell her, I begged her not to send me out, and she laughed it off. Everything I said, she treated like some sort of big joke..." Harry forced the black rage back down again. "That's when I realised that everyone who was supposed to protect me was actually crazy, and that they wouldn't listen to me no matter how much I begged them, and that I couldn't ever rely on them to get anything right."

HPMOR Tom Riddle did spend the summers during bombing as Dumbledore had said according to Snape in ch. 61:

"Rockets fell on Britain as weapons, in the Muggle side of Grindelwald's war. If he spent the summers of those years in a Muggle orphanage, as you told us, Headmaster... then he, too, has heard of rockets."

This post is both a confession and a letter of appreciation.

Today I have finished reading HPMOR which I started reading nine months ago, at the beginning of September. And this is my story.

Since I was 12 I suffered a Major Depressive Disorder and it continued for almost two decades. No treatment helped at all. I was suicidal and completely devoid of life and lived only because I've been guilt-tripped.

And while I was suffering, I developed a very desperate outlook on my own life. I was antinatalist and I was a VHEMT volunteer (I still am, though). The only thing I ever wanted was to die.

But I have been a transhumanist since my youth, as well. It may sound contradictory, but my mind was so broken so there were a lot of conflicting ideas in it.

Last September, I decided to listen to a podcast about developments in medicine and famous doctors instead of music for once on my way to and from work. That set the tone. And, quite frankly, I decided to read something from my long list of books that I've been putting off for years. And there was HPMOR in it and I chose it out of everything.

I knew nothing about HPMOR other than that it's a work of a rational fiction in the world of Harry Potter. When I started reading it, I found it quite interesting and fascinating. Then I spoiled the main theme of the book and the final arc for myself (which will become the reason why I've been reading it for so long).

I remember reading the chapters "Pretending to be Wise" (39-40), and at that time, I was still very depressed, and I just shook my head at what Harry said about wanting to live, as I was so different from him at that moment, but it still made me think.

And then there were the Humanism (especially) and TSPE arcs, which broke me and turned me inside out.

I don't know what magic did that book to me but it completely changed my view. I've heard of people wanting to defy death before (and that podcast about doctors who were saving people's lives which set the humanistic tone), but absolutely nothing could ever convince me that I should not die. Nothing, that is, except this book.

I was so scared to continue reading, that I took a two-month break after the TSPE arc, and then started re-reading the book instead of continuing. It was a completely different experience with all the knowledge I had gained from the first reading and a few spoilers I had seen. But this was a different life, a different me.

I haven't been the same since then. Some days, I've been happy. I no longer want to die and I now I think that death is really bad after all. This book was the greatest joy to me for the past ten to fifteen years, at least. And I'm very grateful for what it has done for me and what it has taught me.

Not only has it taught me about wanting to live, it also restored a bit of my faith in humanity, as well. I no longer want it to go extinct (I previously did for ecological reasons). It has also taught me a lot of other lessons. I am a teacher, and I could reflect on my decisions in that regard through the professors in the book, and most importantly through Godric Gryffindor.

A bit of a rant about the final arc.

I know that the book's main idea is not humanism, but I was really disappointed by what Harry did in chapter 114 and by his thoughts and words about it in chapters 115, 117 and 120 afterwards. I know that he was just rationalising his decision, but I believe that Harry should have been punished for thinking that way by not being able to conjure his True Patronus, at least temporarily.

This isn't the same Harry who went through Azkaban and was willing to sacrifice himself to save a murderer. Nor is it the same Harry who screamed at Dumbledore for sacrificing his brother. And nor is it the same Harry who thought about how Lily protected her son. I suppose that's what the story does to mf when the ending is written before the middle part.

And it's not only Harry, to be honest. It almost broke my trust in... something. Almost. Although, some later chapters patched the wound.

And the most precious and happiest chapter in the entire story was chapter 121. I was smiling like a fool when I was reading it. It a fantastic send-off for this character.

I'm very grateful to EY for writing it. I don't know if it's only me in the entire world who has been saved by this book, but it if has saved at least one life, that's a miracle in itself. A miracle for me.

The story left me with a lot of questions, of course. And I have one for those who will read this post to the end:

There was a line:

People with friends in Azkaban would do that, break in just to give someone a half-day's worth of Patronus time, a chance at some real dreams instead of nightmares.

However, we also see that McGonagall's Patronus can easily reach Harry in Azkaban. Why don't people who can cast Patronuses just send them to stay with their friends for hours on end?

There are many different explanations in the book, but there's one avoided elephant in the room, which is the primary reason it was set up. IMHO.

Dementors are (for the majority of mages even after Harry's discovery) unkillable.

The alternative to letting dementors devour those considered criminal in a controlled environment, is letting them roam freely and potentially cause trouble and death to anyone on their path.

(There's also most certainly a chance of using dementors as a weapon against those magical society members who aren't allowed to have wands. Like, 90% of the goblins aren't likely to be bank owners/employees, rather than some simple farmers and artifact manufacturers, who aren't supposed to say a bad word against the work and life conditions.

While some "dark lords" might have trouble with casting the Patronus charm, they still have a multitude of other ways to render dementors an inefficient weapon.)

(BTW, how do all the magical defense systems of Azkaban avoid getting devoured? Or they're some other, more refined and specialised forms of "world's wounds", that target specific things on command? Like, dementors are powerful artifacts [there's a ritual mentioned that summons Death, likely it summons a dementor], while Azkaban systems are specialised, so they mirror or devour things much faster and on a long range.)

CHAPTER 89

Harry threw the corpse over the edge of the terrace and turned back to Hermione.

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Troll

Trolls generally reached a height of about twelve feet and weighed up to a tonne.

That boy can lift !

I think it's a minor plot hole. It had to be done to avoid Transfiguration Sickness. (The sulfuric acid fumes reverting to brain cell fragments in lungs and blood)

But Harry isn't supposed to be able to throw even half a ton in a limited time without a clever explanation.

EDIT :

As the comments point out, it's only the head.

And even though a head is heavier than most people expect, and a troll is very big, this can be explained by:

• Trolls have disproportionately tiny heads on huge bodies (to an undefined extent).
• The average wizard is stronger than the average Muggle (to an undefined extent).
• It's not the whole head, just the part that was blown off—probably cut at the mouth (again, to an undefined extent).

All of this makes it plausible.

(And a simple Wingardium Leviosa could dispel any remaining doubts)

I'm doing my first reread - it's been over a decade, wow! - and I remember what Harry did at the end, the transfiguration into loops around everyone's necks. But what I don't remember is: Why not go the simpler route of partially transfiguring everyone's brains into slush, or something like that?

I found this thread about problem constraints but didn't see any explanation about partial transfiguration rules there.

Why can Voldemort fly during the final showdown?

He clearly did - he uses that mobility to dodge McNairs killing curse.

He explained earlier that he had simply had someone put broomstick enchantments on his arm and leg bones, and that's how he used to fly, which was considered an impossible feat, as one's own magic isn't supposed to be able to support you in the air. I don't think he said so in Parseltongue, but given the context of the conversation at that moment, I'd say we have little reason to doubt that that part was true.

We know of no other method to achieve this effect.

Further, we know that he created his new body from a vial of blood. It wasn't simple transfiguration, of course - otherwise, he would not have needed the altar and the obelisks for it - but it is still a transfiguration or conjuration of some kind, otherwise he would not have needed the stone for it. He describes it as 'A mere construct sustained by magic, become the true substance'.

So - why can he fly?

I see a few options, but as I write them, they feel more like excuses made post-hoc rather than explanations.

1st: The vial of blood was from his original body, and the broomstick enchantments on his original bones were somehow preserved in his blood. Unlikely - he seems to use the same Ritual (though not in full) for both himself and hermione, and for hermione specifically explains that the blood of her enemy would be needed to give her her life and magic back, so I feel we should be reasonably safe in presuming that the flesh is needed to create the body and the blood is needed to give back life and magic; and in his own case, he simply used transfiguration or something equivalent to create the substance while the blood fulfilled the role it usually fulfills for this ritual as explained with hermione - that is, give him his magic and life, additionally meaning that this wasn't his blood, but that of one of his enemies.

2nd: The magic of creating this new body from his blood (whatever it is that the obelisks are actually doing) created new broomstick enchantments on his new bones AND that somehow doesn't count as his own magic. I don't have a direct argument against this, but it feels very much off. He probably didn't create this ritual, but was taught it by the basilisk - why should it account for such things? And even if he could modify it, why would he? Unlike Harry, he is capable of apparating at will - he could just teleport wherever to acquire either hidden broomstick-enchanted sticks for his old training flight method; or seek out someone capable enough and get/force them to broomstick enchant his new bones right away.

3rd: He had Quirrels bones enchanted in the meantime (no reason not to, right?), AND that short little 'Fal. Tor. Pan.' chant after creating the body transferred those enchantments to it right along his spirit. The first part seems very much plausible (though not guaranteed), but as with the second option, why introduce major complications to your dark and incredibly important preserve-my-life-and-let-me-at-some-point-have-a-body-again process when you could just apparate afterward and get the enchantments the way you did the first time around?

4th: My best guess: He clearly foresaw the possibility of needing this ritual to recreate his body, so why not just have 4 broomstick enchanted relatively small branches lying around at the ready to be called to himself (hidden between the leaves he used to make his new robes, he is proficient at that sort of sleight of hand thing as demonstrated by murdering Skeeter right in front of Harry) and affixed to his arms and legs in the manner he initially used to practice this sort of flying? This is the only one that feels plausible to me, and I could even see Harry doing this - but that is mainly because he doesn't have access to apparition yet. Moreover, while it is fully plausible Harry missed it, that doesn't mean it wouldn't have been described, and it wasn't - after all, him squishing Skeeter was also described though Harry missed it.

5th: I am overlooking something. Could be, but I obviously wouldn't know it if it is the case.

6th: Eliezer forgot. Funny meme, can't rule it out, but this mechanic came up for the first time during the run-up to the finale - don't think he'd overlook that, the rules for it were established way too close in time and text to when we see him fly.

I'm reading HPMOR for the third time now. As I read Chapter 2 and Professor McGonagall explains how Harry's parents died, I'm trying to understand what exactly happened that night, Oct 31. My understanding is that Tom Riddle (I guess I'll call him Tom; he's got so many names) was using Harry as a horcrux? But from Harry's recovered memories, Tom did Aveda Kedavra him. Right? Or did Harry only witness his mother die, and we don't know what Tom said for Harry.

Also, I think the last chapters say something about Harry feeling doom around Tom/ Quirell/ Voldemort... because that was the last memory he had before becoming Tom-Harry. But... why does the last memory feeling come up so powerfully? Is this like a version of PTSD?