Trinity Angles (Discussion Thread)

[Kieran]

Kieran... you're one magnificent bastard, you know that?

Thank you.

Of course, this makes a lot of sense when you think about it... Ginny being an example of the Trope entitled Really 700 Years Old (even if she's not really that old). Although, what made her look so young, in comparison?

...I swear, if you use the catchall "magic", I will slap you silly upside the head for this.

Well, Mass Effect is only 180 years in our future, as opposed to some other sci-fi series. That's a little more of a reasonable age for a witch or wizard to live to, particularly if you know people who can make the Elixir of Life.

That, yes . . . It's been noted in other "future" snippets that witches and wizards tend to age at half-speed once they hit 17 (my personal explanation for their longer, but not ridiculous lifespans), and that bonded Animagi, like Ginny, age at half that rate, because they count as "two" on some mystical levels. So, while being 185 years past the final year of "Trinity: The Twilight," Ginny's only aged 46 years, biologically (Shepard's mother was a late surprise).

And then we get into Galen, Takara and Hermione, who have access to the Elixir of Life (as noted), and its lesser variant (via the white, incomplete Philosopher's Stone) - they're biologically in their 30s.

[Xamusel]

Kieran... what do you mean by bonded Animagi?

[Rai Burnout]

So with Ginny as an example. This means that there's a good chance the majority of the Scarlet Seven are still around. Neville too, I wonder what he's been up to. Anyone else imagining Geth being ambushed by a 300 pound Grizzly?

Kieran... what do you mean by bonded Animagi?

I assume he means Animagi that have talked to their animal forms and have come to an agreement on terms of the deal. Think of what Takara did.

[Xamusel]

Heh... good point. Thanks for that clarification.

[Kieran]

I assume he means Animagi that have talked to their animal forms and have come to an agreement on terms of the deal. Think of what Takara did.

That's it.

So with Ginny as an example. This means that there's a good chance the majority of the Scarlet Seven are still around. Neville too, I wonder what he's been up to. Anyone else imagining Geth being ambushed by a 300 pound Grizzly?

Eight-hundred-pound grizzly.

And yes, there's at least a chance they're all still around, though maybe not all that they were; I kind of picture Neville at this age the way Arnold Schwarzenegger looks these days - he's still a big guy, and he's still in pretty good shape, but the years have worn on him . . . Of course, the Dumbledore brothers, McGonagall and Moody are no spring chickens, and they're still pretty damned impressive.

[Kieran]

May 2, 1998







Nobody saw it coming, although they should have.

They had already collected most of the obvious facts involved, after all: Voldemort was fully capable of concocting and executing convoluted plans with backups and fail-safes, often taking years to reach fruition. He was also a vindictive son of a bitch, perfectly willing to destroy what he couldn’t possess—and he’d broken into the Ministry years before—to hear a prophecy, they’d thought at the time, and he’d certainly tried, but he’d also laid a Portkey enchantment as a later trap, allowing him to kidnap Neville’s grandmother long afterwards.

. . . Really, it should’ve come as no surprise that, on his way through the Department of Mysteries, he might’ve made another stop. But it hadn’t occurred to any of them, either at the time or years later—and so Voldemort’s dying curse, a final strike at his enemies, went unnoticed, until it was too late.

With the death of the Dark Lord, the Department of Mysteries ended its lockdown, returning once more to “normal” reality; and the enchantment, sensing the link to its master’s life having been severed, did as it was meant to do—and blew the veiled arch in the Room of Death to pieces.

And it took the world—or at least, a very significant part of that world—with it.








September 5, 2009

Dear Diary,


Today will be different, because it has to be.

Today I will smile, and it will be genuine.

Today I will no longer be the sad little girl wh—




Takara’s handwriting devolved into an unintelligible scribble as she abruptly doubled over, crying out in pain. Fire filled her senses for a moment as a bomb seemed to go off in her head; when it cleared, there was a coppery taste in her mouth, and the ink squiggle she’d unintentionally left on her page was dotted with blood.

“Oh . . .” she muttered, a bit dazedly. “Oh, that wasn’t good . . .”

Occlumency, as such, didn’t exist here; she could tell that much just from the differences in her thinking. However, mental discipline wasn’t entirely unknown, either, and so she found herself somewhat able to sort through her new memories—all seventeen years’ worth of them. Or was that, more properly, all thirty-four years’ worth of them? Had her life been rewritten again, or had she inadvertently consumed another version of herself?

Contemplating it, she found that she couldn’t be sure . . .

“Existential crisis later,” Takara told herself firmly. “First, get a fix on the here and now.”

A here and now, apparently, where her name was still “Takara Aozaki.” That was good and bad—good in that it wouldn’t have her instinctively responding to the wrong name, but bad in that there wasn’t anything to tell the mishmash of memories inside her who she was. Her mother was still Ciel Aozaki (again, good and bad), and her father was—

She stopped.

Her father was Shiki Aozaki, once Shiki Tohno, born Shiki Nanaya—and once again, dying.

Takara muttered a few choice curses in German she’d picked up from Ilya (which, if nothing else, made her core identity a bit firmer); as Galen had once noted, German was an excellent language for invective, since almost any German word sounded like swearing if you said it loudly enough. Then she flipped backwards through her diary, trying to find out what was killing her father this time.

“. . . A car crash?” she muttered disbelievingly. Was this the universe’s idea of making a Harry Potter joke? All the things they’d faced, and survived—and something as mundane as injuries sustained in a car crash did her father in?

And, Takara realised suddenly, speaking of “Harry Potter” . . .

A few minutes later, she frowned. The good news, to the extent that there was good news, was that magic did exist here; and the local witchcraft had a lot more in common with the style of the “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” setting than it did with the stuff taught at Hogwarts. She didn’t need a wand in the slightest, just her willpower.

The bad news (because of course there was bad news, too) was that she, herself, had an unknown amount of talent for it, and what amounted to zero training in using whatever talent she had. Her mother (according to what little Takara recall at the moment of discussions about the subject) had no particular talent for magic—

She stopped. That seemed odd, given that in both Hogwarts’ world and her original one, it had been very much the opposite . . .

But in this case, at least, Takara reasoned, why on earth would Mother lie? It’s Father’s life we’re talking about, here, and she’s always been consistent in her need to protect our family. Whatever she might be hiding, she honestly can’t help him, or she would have, already. And that means either trying to figure out healing spells on my own, or locating another witch or wizard to do the job.

The easiest way would be to contact Aunt Aoko or Aunt Touko . . . But on the other hand, if they were viable options, then surely her mother would’ve done that already?

Takara scowled, resisting the urge to groan in frustration. This was giving her a migraine—or maybe it was because of her having to reintegrate those memories manually. Ilya had sorted out a lot of this mess, the first time, and her Occlumency lessons had finished the job. Now, it was just her, and the process wasn’t nearly as smooth or easy.

Still, she had no choice but to do it if she was going to keep her sanity. And no doubt that would be tested badly enough as it was, as she searched for a witch to heal her father in . . .

Takara blinked. Why the hell am I living in “Mystic Falls, Virginia?”

This time, Takara let herself groan as she rolled her eyes skyward.

“Damn it, Galen,” she swore at the heavens, before adding quickly “and Hermione—where are you to explain this stuff when I need you?”








Galen sneezed abruptly. As he’d been in middle of vomiting at the time, this was uncomfortable (at the risk of criminally understating it).

“Oh—come—on—!” he gasped, when it was finally safe to breathe again. “If that was because someone was talking about me, no fair—this isn’t even an anime-based universe!”

Sighing (and deeply missing the days when he could just Vanish a mess like this), he resumed concentrating, to the point where he could cancel the spell that had sealed him inside the room for the night, before forcing his aching, trembling body into the shower. Once immersed in the scalding water, he made a sincere effort at scrubbing the vomit off his body, even as he tried to organise his memories and identity. This was not an easy task, given both the lack of proper Occlumency in this universe’s magic system and the fact that he was coming off a transformation the night before.

And I’m back to being a proper werewolf, he thought grimly, complete with the lack of control over my transformations. I’m also in a setting that’s the spiritual successor to “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”—it’s not quite as ludicrous as I remember the books becoming, but the show was aired on The Network That Teen Angst Built, so God only knows what I’ll be dealing with here . . .

Galen had read “The Vampire Diaries” series of young adult novels, meaning the original trilogy and its first sequel, back during his own teen years. He’d lived long enough to see the rest of the series published, but given up on it after Book 2 of “The Return” trilogy because of its sheer stupidity—it read more like a badly-written fan fiction of the series than a sequel.

(Of course, if he understood what he’d been told correctly, by that point the publishers were using other writers on the books and cutting out the original author, so the comparison made sense . . .)

The TV series adaptation, on the other hand, he knew a little of. He’d managed to catch most of the first season before the network simulcasting it with its American originator network had started bouncing its broadcast time around so often he lost track of it. It had finally ended up in a timeslot that conflicted with one of his other, established TV programs; and by that point, he’d missed so many episodes anyway that it didn’t matter.

Still, even without Occlumency, he remembered enough of the basics of that year to handle the next few weeks, at least—it was what came after that which worried him. He’d read episode descriptions in TV guides, of course; and caught at least one, some years later. None of that really prepared him for living here.

Especially, he thought grimly, since I’m apparently a “witchwolf”—a werewolf-witch hybrid—and according to everything that both I and my native self know, there aren’t any of those.

Galen remembered hearing or reading something about hybrids in this setting, but if he recalled correctly, it was of the “vampire-werewolf” variety. His native self had no knowledge of those, either, but a werewolf that could use witchcraft was definitely unheard of—though certainly useful. Just having the ability to place barriers that his werewolf form couldn’t break while it was raging on a full-moon night was priceless to him, and who knew what else he could learn to do?

Heaven knows, I’ll probably need every trick I can get—because who knows what I’ll be walking into in Mystic Falls . . .?

Because as much as common sense and his survival instincts told him that the best thing he could possibly do was to move back to Britain or Canada, or even Japan—and stay there—he had to go there, at least once.

There were two very important reasons for this. The first reason was that Mystic Falls was a location almost as critical to the supernatural in this world as the Hellmouth in Sunnydale was to the cosmology of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” Simply put, the things that happened there always had repercussions, potential or realised, that could or did affect the entire world. This meant that, even aside from the “usual” events that would happen there, if there was a place that any of the others—Takara, Hermione, Shirou, etcetera—would show up, it would be there. And the second reason . . .

Secondly, his last name was still “Salvatore”; the same surname as the show’s two vampire protagonists. Given that this world ran on both teen angst and narrative causality, that wasn’t a coincidence—and it all but guaranteed that something would be coming to bite him on the ass, sooner or later. It would be better to do what he could to get out in front of it, so that he could try and prepare for it, while he had the chance.

The only good news is that the date suggests I’m in the first season, when werewolves were basically considered a myth, even among vampires—which means that they’ll never see me coming . . .

[Xamusel]

Kieran, you accidentally left out a forward slash right before "first season", man.

[Kieran]

Oops - you'd think by now, I'd know not to rewrite on the fly . . .

Got it, thanks.

[Xamusel]

You're welcome... and now I wish I knew more on the source for this series.

[Rai Burnout]

I wonder how many more Occult shows there are left to go through? So far we've done: Buffy, Vampire Diaries, Supernatural (partly, my snippets), and arguably Rwby. What's left? After all Galen it could be worse.. it could be Twilight.

[Kieran]

I wonder how many more Occult shows there are left to go through? So far we've done: Buffy, Vampire Diaries, Supernatural (partly, my snippets), and arguably Rwby. What's left?

Well, off the top of my head - and scratching "Sabrina the Teenage Witch" off, by virtue of actually being (sort-of-)canon - in alphabetical order . . .


* The Addams Family - there are multiple movie and TV variants (three movies, two TV series, one TV movie . . .)

* Bewitched - the witches are way overpowered

* Charmed - it would require a few sex changes, or end up being Iris (or Ilya), Luna, and Arcueid)

* Constantine - it would fit right into sliding them into a DC Universe (of course, I still have to buy that one)

* Dark Shadows - you thought I wrote soap operas before . . .

* I Dream of Jeannie - a bit limited, I think.

* The Munsters - Another one with multiple options (two TV series, 4 TV movies, and 1 pilot that never went anywhere else - pity)

* Secret Circle Another series of L. J. Smith novels-turned-TV series, not as successfully

* Teen Wolf - If it's all the same to you guys, I'll just skip this one - I prefer the 1985 movie.

After all Galen it could be worse.. it could be Twilight.

True . . .

[hatori]

What about... the Nightside?

[Kieran]

What about... the Nightside?

Not a TV series, so far as I know, so not strictly speaking eligible for the list (though I did forget to include Scooby-Doo, now that I think about it).

Potentially, though, the Nightside books are a doable crossover, though I suspect it'd be a grim one - as John Taylor has often said, the Nightside so loves to break a hero . . .

[dpss]

Lurker here.
If you're thinking of more Trinity xovers, than let me ask you. Have you ever seen the bbc series "Merlin"?

[Kieran]

Lurker here.
If you're thinking of more Trinity xovers, than let me ask you. Have you ever seen the bbc series "Merlin"?

I have, though I lost track of it after Season 2 (I think? Maybe Season 3?).

[Kieran]

Nobody saw it coming, although they should have.

They had already collected most of the obvious facts involved, after all: Voldemort was fully capable of concocting and executing convoluted plans with backups and fail-safes, often taking years to reach fruition. He was also a vindictive son of a bitch, perfectly willing to destroy what he couldn’t possess—and he’d broken into the Ministry years before—to hear a prophecy, they’d thought at the time, and he’d certainly tried, but he’d also laid a Portkey enchantment as a later trap, allowing him to kidnap Neville’s grandmother long afterwards.

. . . Really, it should’ve come as no surprise that, on his way through the Department of Mysteries, he might’ve made another stop. But it hadn’t occurred to any of them, either at the time or years later—and so Voldemort’s dying curse, a final strike at his enemies, went unnoticed, until it was too late.

With the death of the Dark Lord, the Department of Mysteries ended its lockdown, returning once more to “normal” reality; and the enchantment, sensing the link to its master’s life having been severed, did as it was meant to do—and blew the veiled arch in the Room of Death to pieces.

And it took the world—or at least, a very significant part of that world—with it.








Vorton
LEGO Multiverse








“Aw, nuts,” X-PO cursed.

The AI’s current form didn’t look like much—if anything, he resembled the stereotypical “flying camera drone” so common in various sci-fi milieu, albeit with stubby mechanical manipulator arms—but he was connected to the Gateway system. Through it, he could scan and open doors to any aspect of the Multiverse; a function that X-PO had recently used to help a bunch of people defeat Lord Vortech in his bid to collapse the Multiverse into a single, unified existence under his control.

. . . Except that now, a whole lot of signals were coming through, similar to Lord Vortech’s portals—and worse, he couldn’t get a fix on where exactly they were coming from—and the impact of those signals was opening random rifts across the Multiverse, dropping elements from one world into another.

“Great, another mess to clean up,” the AI muttered. “I’m an Experimental Portal Operator—so why does that job title seem to translate to ‘Multiverse’s Janitor?’”

Grumbling all the while, he started cataloguing the various anomalies. Hopefully, they wouldn’t cause too much damage before he could assemble a team to counteract them.

. . . Yeah, right—since when had his luck ever been that good?




Across the LEGO Multiverse . . .








“Well,” Luna commented lightly, “this is an interesting experience. Although I have to say, Hermione—your colouring doesn’t look so good.”

This was an understatement that was oh-so-typically Luna, as Hermione was literally glowing green. And sadly, that quality was the least disturbing of the changes that she—well, they, really—had undergone.

Hermione took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

“While I’m not particularly happy about the fact that I apparently function as my own nightlight,” the vampire witch admitted, “I honestly find the fact that we’ve somehow been transformed into walking, talking LEGO figures more concerning at the moment.”

“Really?” the petite blonde asked, surprised. “I think it’s rather fascinating—and the proper term is ‘minifigures,’ actually.”

Hermione was surprised for a beat, before recalling that Luna had developed a fondness for the toy when she’d been introduced to it. She could, in fact, be remarkably creative in its use.

“We have an entirely new world of things to explore here,” Luna began—and then paused, before adding, “Such as, why that shiny crystalline rock has a flaw that looks exactly like a bat . . .”








“Fascinating,” Newt Scamander murmured, as he watched the marshmallow giant rampage through what looked like New York City, but far . . . Brighter.

“You’re telling me, dude,” Michelangelo replied. “I knew I shouldn’t have had that peanut butter, hot fudge and pretzel-stick pizza before bedtime . . .”

“That explains you two being here,” Neville muttered, “but not me . . .”








“You may have grown up, my pretty, but I still recognise you!” the Wicked Witch of the West cackled. “And this time, I will get you, and your not-so-little dog, too!”

“Rog?” Scooby Doo repeated in puzzlement, glancing around for one. “Where?”

Ginny sighed. “I’ll explain it later.”








“So, do you know why we’re suddenly firebird-people-things made out of Lego?!” Shirou demanded.

“From ‘Legends of CHIMA,’ I think,” Ilya pointed out, before shrugging. “It’s not something Galen paid a lot of attention to; though he couldn’t really avoid it, given how popular LEGO books were in the children’s section—”

“That makes me feel so much better about it,” he drawled.

As though she hadn’t been interrupted, Ilya continued. “Aside from that, I was a half-Veela, you were an eagle Animagus with a phoenix-feather wand, and we’re married—I guess this world decided that this was the closest matchup for us.” She glanced around. “Though this doesn’t look like what I would expect Chima to . . .”

“Hello,” said a feminine, synthesised voice, “and, again, welcome to the Aperture Science Computer-Aided Enrichment Centre.”

“. . . Oh, bloody hell,” Ilya muttered.

It might be Galen’s catchphrase rather than her own, but it was entirely appropriate to the situation—and that he would agree with her wholeheartedly . . .








Finding that she’d turned into a Lego figure was strange, to say the least, but by now, Takara had been through enough changes and revisions to her nature that adapting to it—or at least, putting off reacting to it until later—was fairly easy. Finding herself to be the only one of her friends and family around was a bit more disconcerting; but again, she could wait to panic once she knew that she was safe.

Takara looked around, finding herself in a room she didn’t recognise, full of odds and ends but dominated by a central cylinder which boasted a ring-like console at waist height. The overall effect, she thought, was like someone had pushed a mushroom cap halfway down the stem—

“. . . Clara?” said a man’s voice. It was a sharp, Scottish voice, putting her in mind of Professor McGonagall, except for the obvious gender discrepancy, and she turned towards its source.

The severe look of the man, combined with his obvious age, only heightened her inner comparison to McGonagall—though the cut of his suit looked more like something Galen would wear. Takara couldn’t say that she recognised him, but at the same time, something about him did seem familiar . . .

“No,” said the man, sounding a mix of disappointed and resigned, “you’re not Clara. He scowled. “Who are you, and how did you get inside this ship?”

The reference to her location as a “ship,” along with the console design, made the relevant connection for her. She wasn’t familiar with this incarnation—and who knew what being a Lego representation did to the design—but it was one of the few TV series that Hermione, Ginny, and Luna had enjoyed watching.

“My name is Takara Aozaki, Doctor,” she said, bowing politely. “And I don’t know how I got here, but I’d be willing to bet it’s my boyfriend’s fault—somehow . . .”








Galen sneezed, twice—the second time forcefully enough to throw him off the branch he was perched on, sending him crashing to the ground below.

“Damn it,” he groaned, nevertheless getting up to run again, even as the heavy tread of his pursuer started up behind him.

Jurassic Park would’ve been bad enough, but I get Jurassic World . . . And LEGO Jurassic World, at that, which means God only knows what might happen—

Such as, for example, a sudden flash of bright light, which blinded him—and going from the roar behind him, the dinosaur, too. Galen would have given thanks for small mercies, except that what he heard following it, in the synthesised voice of Mark Strong, made any such idea fly out of his head.

[Indominus Rex of Earth, you are capable of causing great fear. You have been selected by the Sinestro Corps.]

“Are you FREAKING KIDDING ME?” Galen wheezed, unable to keep himself from protesting aloud at the insanity of it, even as he kept running. “It’s a bloody Indominus, it doesn’t need a damned power ring on top of that! Of all the ridiculous, asinine things I’ve eve—”

[Galen Salvatore of Earth, you have great rage in your heart,] came another synthesised voice, this one more like Kevin Grevioux, [You belong to the Red Lantern Corps.]

“—rrrRRRAAAAAAAHH!”

[Rai Burnout]

'Laughing my ass off'

Of all the things I expected, Lego was not one of them. And a Lego Aperture Science is both hilarious and extremely fitting.

Oh well, it could always be worse. For example... Bionicle is a lego property.

Have fun with that.

[Kieran]

'Laughing my ass off'

Glad to hear it - I wasn't sure if this was just appealing to my weird sense of humour again, or if anyone else would find it funny.

Of all the things I expected, Lego was not one of them.

Well, it's been a long and trying week at work (I hate March Break), so I needed something funny. And then I heard that they were adding Hermione to LEGO Dimensions - voiced by Emma, which not even the actual Harry Potter video games managed to achieve - and things snowballed from there.

And a Lego Aperture Science is both hilarious and extremely fitting.

Well, I love GLaDOS, ever since I first heard her; and I owe this fic for getting me interested in "Portal" in the first place . . . But a lot of this (beyond turning Hermione into her LEGO counterpart) was based around the question, "What's the most ridiculous thing that can happen?" I thought that Aperture would be a decent challenge for a witch and wizard; and that given Shirou's mastery of sarcasm (as Archer), and Ilya's own scathing wit, GLaDOS was a fitting opponent.

In Hermione's case, it's the fact that "LEGO Monster Fighters" (a sadly underrated line) had a Vampire Bride minifigure that glowed in the dark - and Luna enjoying Lego is just something that seems appropriate. Ginny being Dorothy's stand-in made an odd sort of sense; she's a "farm girl," of sorts (the Weasleys do keep chickens), and she has red hair and brown eyes a la Judy Garland. And I always loved Scooby's response to being called a dog, in the '90s animation, so it had to be added in.

LEGO New York has just so many character options - I just couldn't figure out how to have Neville spot the Avengers, too (And their absence from the "Dimensions" game is a bit odd, in my opinion). And as for Galen . . . Well, I immediately thought "Jurassic World," because they're likely as magic-resistant as dragons, and who doesn't love running from dinosaurs? Then I applied the "ridiculous" question, and the answer came back "Isn't the Indominus a great candidate for a Yellow Lantern Power Ring . . .?"

The rest went from there.

Oh well, it could always be worse. For example... Bionicle is a lego property. Have fun with that.

I did consider that. Also "LEGO Disney Princess" . . . But all I could come up with there was having Takara mistaken for Mulan, Snow White, or the Snow Queen (the dark-haired, evil Elsa prototype); nothing really funny, so I went with the Doctor, instead.

[Kieran]

Takara fixed the Weasley twins with her best death glare—which, to be fair, was pretty good. Arguably, it was likely better than “pretty good,” given that the twins’ mother could match death glares with the best of them, and they still paled at the sight of hers.

Calmly, politely, even—as though it was no more than a casual request to pass the salt—she asked them, “What did you do?”

She was rewarded with the sight of the twins’ pallor bleaching a further shade, and inwardly smiled. No one could spend as much time with Galen as she had, with his penchant for theatricality, and not pick up a few tricks; and as such, nothing was as terrifying as calm in this sort of situation.

Probably even more so, in the case of the twins, she reflected. Mrs. Weasley’s temper tends to run loud, after all . . .

“Now, keep in mind,” Fred (presumably) said nervously, “that this wasn’t the intended effect—”

A bit quieter, and colder, she repeated, “What did you do?”

“And they agreed to test it!” the other twin burst in quickly, voice edged with panic.

Takara’s voice, at this point, could have frosted over glass. “I’m still not hearing an explanation . . .”

“It was meant as a new product,” Fred said “A few of the enchantments that go into a Pensieve, some complex Charm and rune work, and you could end up taking any vacation or other experience you wanted.”

“Wouldn’t last long, of course,” George offered. “Power-wise, it takes a lot of make it operate—almost as much as it takes to produce the things. But if we can get it to work, the possibilities are worth a fortune.”

“And they’d been helping us—we thought you were in on it, too.”

“. . . So that’s what those Charms were for,” Takara mused. “Hermione wouldn’t tell me.”

The twins shared a weak smile.

“Good girl, that Hermione—”

“—Takes her non-disclosure agreements seriously.”

Feeling that they were getting far too relaxed for the situation, Takara flashed them another death glare; they tensed up satisfyingly as she asked, “So what went wrong?”

“. . . We’re not sure,” Fred admitted. “We made sure the thing had the same safeties that are on a Pensieve; they should just have been in physical contact with it, not physically absorbed into it.”

“And how do we get them out?” she prompted.

They exchanged glances before George answered, “Short of letting them finish whatever they got into, we’re not sure.”

“And what they got into was . . .?”

“Nothing we recognise,” Fred began.

“But it sure sounds dangerous,” George finished.

They handed her a book, and Takara’s eyebrows rose as she read the title.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” she assured them, as she set it back down.








“I’m not the least bit surprised, but I still have to say that you make a breathtaking Belle,” Galen admitted, wincing at the literal growl in his voice, even as he took in the sight of her. “If ever there was a role that was meant for you, Hermione . . .”

“And as always, there’s an attractive quality to you, even when you can’t see it,” Hermione teased, even as she flushed. “Sorry—that was uncalled for. In my defence, I fully expected to end up the ‘beast’ in this particular equation.”

“If you were with Takara instead of me, maybe,” he allowed.

She smiled thinly. “Now there’s a thought; with the three of us, would the story be about ‘Beauty and the Beast’ pursuing a boy?”

“A thought for another day, perhaps,” he said, grateful that all the fur kept his blush from being visible—and that, as “Belle,” Hermione didn’t have the senses to feel it herself. “In the meantime, we need to work our way out of this.”

“Well then,” Hermione smiled, and curtsied. “In that case, I believe you owe me a dance.” She held her arm. “Shall we?”

He bowed to her, and took it. “We shall—but I can’t promise my waltzing skills are up to the task, with these paws.”

She glanced at him. “I’m sure you’ll be careful of your steps . . . And admit it: you’d love to recreate this scene.”

The deep chuckle that worked its way out of his chest sounded far more sinister than he meant it to, but he still added with amusement, “And you aren’t planning to show Miranda this memory?”

“. . . Touché.”








Writer's Notes: Three guesses what movie I saw this week - twice! - and believe me, you want to go.

. . . Sorry for the posting delay; I had login issues yesterday. Still, progress is being made on the actual chapter front, when I can tear myself away from playthrough videos of Mass Effect: Andromeda - which, if I go for a "Mass Effect"-based Trinity sequel, is looking equally viable with the main series.

[Kieran]

The letters were unusual, even by wizarding standards.

For starters, they were sealed with wax (embossed with an emblem no one recognised), and weren’t actually in envelopes. Instead, once the seal was broken, each of the messages unfolded into a sheet of thick, creamy paper—blank sheets of paper.

After a beat to process the oddity, however, words written in a spiralling, calligraphic hand appeared, with a shimmer of fiery light. And they read:

You have been selected to interview for a prestigious position at the Metropolitan Public Library.

The letter was magical, obviously—it had to be, with that little special effect; just as obviously, however, it wasn’t sourced in the wizarding world—the lack of owl delivery and specifying of a mundane location was proof enough of that. That said location was in New York, rather than anywhere within their home country, only added an additional layer of confusion to the mystery.

. . . Well, if nothing else, they were curious; and with appropriate precautions taken—weapons and wands prepared and hidden, among them—they made arrangements to travel.

“So,” Takara asked, glancing between her three companions, “any new ideas as to why we’d get an offer like this?”

“None,” Galen sighed. “I mean, I can understand why Hermione or Luna might be offered a position; this is the fourth-largest library in the world, with a world-renowned collection—though the British Library is bigger, and more local.”

“Not to mention that neither Luna nor I have academic credentials in the mundane world that qualify,” Hermione interjected. “For that matter, I’m not entirely certain Luna has a legal identity.”

“Not really,” the blonde admitted. She tilted her head thoughtfully. “It’s curious, though: now that I’ve thought about it, I remember hearing rumours of a ‘library’ when Daddy and I were travelling through Africa. It was spoken of like some sort of secret society or fraternity, if I understood it correctly—but then again, Swahili was never my best language. Still, do you suppose it’s the same one?”

“If so, who tipped them to us?” Galen mused. “And just as important, how aware are they? I’d hate to run afoul of the Statute at this point . . .”








“Are you sure about this, Judson?” the woman at the desk asked. “After over two thousand years, now you want to involve them in The Library?”

Judson, (who Galen, amongst others, would’ve otherwise identified as Bob Newhart) replied, “It’s not exactly a question of w-want, Charlene . . .” He sighed.

“You and I both know the war is coming, and The Library will be involved—and I’m afraid that wisdom might not be enough. But wisdom can be taught, over time . . . And these kids d-don’t just have magic of their own; they’ve shown that they can handle the t-temptation that The Library represents. They’ve held onto the Philosopher’s Stone and the Hallows for years—”

“And used them,” Charlene said disapprovingly.

“True,” Judson allowed. “But they’ve done so only sparingly, in the defence of life, and while keeping their existence secret. They’ve done a g-good approximation of a Librarian’s job as children—hopefully, we can teach them to do it properly.”

“So which of them do you think should be the Librarian, and which their Guardian?” Charlene asked.

Judson shrugged. “W-we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”








Writer's Notes: The parents and I have been binge-watching "The Librarians" - good campy fun. I highly recommend it.