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Magic Knows No Boundaries 11 Scene
🕑 Added 2023-08-17 17:49:05 +0000 UTCThe following is a new scene added to chapter eleven, between meeting with Marchbanks at the hospital and interviewing with Dumbledore for the divination professorship. It is an important addition for pacing and characterization, in addition to the new plot elements. I'll be posting these here from now on. Small additions to chapters that, themselves, are not completely new.
Networking Part 1:
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The weekend came and went in a blur.
He received a letter from Bellatrix Saturday morning inviting him to come watch her practice. While the idea of watching her run drills in gym clothes all day sounded like a great way to spend a weekend, he had to refuse with a letter of his own. He was sure she would understand his need to prepare for an interview for one of the most prestigious jobs on the planet. Especially with the interviewer being Albus Dumbledore himself.
For the rest of the weekend he hit the books, catching up on his divination. He had mostly skipped the subject in the prep for retaking his NEWTS. He pretty much gave up on it as an A at best, and yet now he was being railroaded into it as a field of specialty. Joy.
Unfortunately, his studying was constantly interrupted by owl after owl from seemingly everyone in Britain. Some were expected, some were pleasant surprises, and some were unpleasant surprises.
Hearing back from both grandpa Crabbe was a treat.
Mister Morrigan.
I was eminently pleased by your willingness and desire to take up your role in society as effectively as possible. Know that I, and most other purebloods, are more than willing to help you if you sinply reach out. If you wish to join my family for dinner to learn dining etiquette, we eat most nights around 6pm and have already cleared you to floo in. This is usually an area outsiders are lacking in and an easy one to remedy whilst also having an enjoyable time.
Your Acquaintance,
Valentine Crabbe
He wrote a simple letter of acceptance and asked to join him Wednesday evening, with the request that he be able to bring a date.
Grandpa Goyle, on the other hand, was a bit more aggressive.
Dear business-illiterate asshat
After our delightful and illuminating introduction at the preliminaries, it came as quite a surprise to learn that you decided to start your tenure as head of an ancient house by liquidating everything and exiting the business world. News travels fast in the business world and half of the purebloods have already come to the conclusion that you are simply cashing out and running for the hills.
This is not a good look. And I hope to learn that you have other intentions in mind.
Hildebrand Goyle
Harry had suffered a long fit of laughter from that one. He hadn't thought of that, but the man was right. He wrote back as urgently as he could manage between snickers.
Dear Mister Goyle.
I liquidated everything with the intention of pursuing a new business venture that I saw was sorely ignored by wizarding Britain. Nature abhors an empty niche, and I as an outsider had the perspective necessary to notice it.
I think you'll be pleased with it when you find out what it is.
Your acquaintance,
Hadrian Morrigan.
With that out of the way he spent the rest of his Saturday relearning and practicing tea leaf reading and dream interpretation.
Sunday started with a host of truly unexpected letters. The tone for the day was set when an unregistered pigeon delivered him a bleached envelope signed Snuffles. He knew he was in for a good time before even opening it. So, open it he did.
Dear Hadrian Morrigan.
You are aware that there are nearly three billion women on the planet, are you not? Nearly a hundred million of whom are witches, several million more of whom are veela, and all of whom are saner and more attractive than Bellatrix Black.
Are you blind, deaf or the word for describing a person with no sense of smell that I can't seem to find in the dictionary? You must be one or all of the three to even tolerate her, but there are magical remedies for each I suggest pursuing.
Yours sincerely,
A concerned citizen
Ah, Sirius. To think the man had nothing better to do on the weekend than pick on his older cousin. Oh well, time to show off his skills as a seer and make the old dog sweat.
Dear Sirius Black
I have taken your concerns to heart, and written Bella with as venomous of a rejection letter to her date invite as I could manage.
I let her know that you brought to my attention her horrendous body odor and haggish looks in such fine detail. Your description of the rancid pustules on her inner thighs were rather vivid and left nothing to the imagination. I transcribed it perfectly in my letter to her.
Thank you for saving me from the horrible fate of suffering her company any longer.
Yours sincerely,
Hadrian Morrigan.
Let him suffer under the fear of her finding out he tried to meddle in her romantic life so maliciously for a few days. He didn't actually tell Bella about it, mostly because he was sure she had done something in the past to bully him to warrant bullying in return. He so hoped Sirius went to apologize to her thinking he had. The added bonus that he would come to the conclusion that he discovered the man's identity through divination would only add to his own mystique.
He was significantly less surprised, but equally pleased, with the package he received during his lunch break from pyro-osteomancy. The three W's written in colorful calligraphy told him he was in for a treat. Literally and figuratively.
"Hell yeah! Canary creams would really hit the spot right now!" Harry decided as he opened the package.
They were not canary creams. According to the instructions at the bottom of the box they were "All you can eat dodging dodgers" which vanished from your stomach after eating. The perfect diet deserts. His Fred and George never made those. Nor did they make the second and third prank snack, Batty Battenberg and spotted dick. The Battenberg cakes caused an effect similar to the bat bogey hex but from a random orifice on the face, save for the eyes. The spotted dick was completely normal spotted dick. Because sophomoric humor never got old.
Harry wrote back with an inquiry into investing into their company. He would need to do the math later on what the inflation rate for one thousand galleons was compared to his time.
The rest of the day was pretty tame. Aside from a letter from Bellatrix saying she understood and wishing him luck. He also got a letter from Valentine Crabbe confirming his dinner with them for Wednesday night and permission to bring Bellatrix Black in particularly as his date. Because, naturally, the whole wizarding world had already caught wind of them dating. And it had only been one date. In private.
Monday and Tuesday was just more invitations to lunch and the like from the examiners. Marhcbanks sent him an open invitation to have breakfast at his home and Tofty wanted him to come for weekend brunch and tea with the rest of her old lady crew. He accepted both with the caveat that he didn't know when he could join, but to roughly pencil him in for later that week and next weekend.
He also got a lurid letter from some woman named Helena inviting him, in so many words, to come live with her. For the life of him he couldn't remember meeting a woman named Helena since arriving in this world. It wasn't the cute girl from the pet store that had been drooling over him, of that, he was sure. Either way, he sent a polite rejection letter to the unusually forward woman.
Beyond that his Monday and Tuesday was spent at the counter with his nose in the books dealing with the rare customer.
