Saving Benighted Souls: Chapter Five: Sorting Certain Things Out - 2
Chapter Five: Sorting Certain Things Out
Continued from over here http://polgarawolf.livejournal.com/229105.html and will continue over here http://polgarawolf.livejournal.com/229584.html as well!
"Hmm. Well. I don’t know about getting more out of them - I’m afraid Lucas rather went more for spectacle than substance, when it came to the prequels," Sheldon half apologizes and half explains, "though to fair it can be argued that there are some very interesting layers of subtext to the newer movies, if you dig deeply enough and are willing to push past some of the more obvious possible conclusions, especially with the middle film - but since I have a drive tucked away in one of my bags with the whole saga on it, I can offer you the chance to watch all six films, in whichever order you’d prefer, once I figure out how to safely hook my computer up to a power source here," he offers. "I have to say, though, I’m a little bit surprised that you didn’t already know about Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker being one and the same. The line from Empire Strikes Back where Vader declares himself to be Luke’s father is rather a famous one. I suppose your relative isolation, since rejoining the magical community, and the combination of neglect and abuse from the Dursleys during first your childhood and then the summers home from Hogwarts has kept you from hearing or learning things that have seeped into the larger social consciousness."
Harry Potter blinks, as though startled, and then blinks again, before exclaiming, "The Dursleys didn’t raise me! Alice - my second mum - she and Sirius and Remus got me back from them as soon as they got out of St. Mungo’s and found out from the Diggorys where Dumbledore had sent me! Hell, I think the husband, Vernon, is still in jail, for assaulting one of the police officers who came to investigate them on charges of child abuse!"
Sheldon blinks, startled by the new information but not particularly shocked or dismayed at the tenor of it. "Would that be Alice Longbottom, by any chance?"
Harry looks at him as if he’s said something exceedingly stupid (which he rather takes objection to! It’s a perfectly reasonable question, all things considered!). "Well, yeah! Neville and I, we’ve practically been raised as brothers. The Boys Who Lived and all that rubbish. Didn’t your Muggle books by that Rowling person explain all that?"
Sheldon blinks again, at that, though the response is less one of surprise than it is of consideration. "Huh. It appears that the books that J. K. Rowling wrote differ in certain key ways from your own life experiences. If I were a betting man, I would wager the universe she wrote about is a fairly nearby alternate universe to your own, just as this universe seems to be a fairly close alternate universe to the GFFA that I’m familiar with. Tell me, is there a Lord Voldemort still extant on the world you left behind, to come here?"
Harry looks mutinous, at that, as if he’d like to be able to furiously protest that he didn’t exactly have a choice about coming here (which Sheldon knows perfectly well would be a lie, given how very careful the presence in the light - Obi-Wan Kenobi, he is now all but certain - was to explain everything, in the process of asking him and Penny to agree to come), but in the end he just angrily replies, "Tom’s still a problem back home, yeah."
"Hmm. Judging by your lack of a visible curse scar - shaped like a lightning bolt or otherwise - I infer that the Horcrux lodged in said scar was removed from you and destroyed, during the process of bringing you here. By any chance, do you know if any of the individuals on your world know about the other Horcruxes and their current hiding places?" Sheldon merely calmly inquires, manfully ignoring the boy’s (illogical and therefore counterproductive) anger.
Harry doesn’t exactly looked shocked, but he does look faintly sickened and sound rather subdued as he replies, "I thought there had to be a good reason why it said that part of me wasn’t natural and couldn’t come. I’d thought it was just some kind of residue from the curses he tried to use that night, though." He shudders, hand going reflexively to the portion of his forehead where (presumably) the curse scar used to be. "We’ve suspected for a long time - to the point of essentially being sure of it - that he had to’ve made at least one Horcrux. But we’ve never been able to find out any more details. Or at least, if Dumbledore knows anything else, he hasn’t managed to get enough proof yet that his magic has made him have to share the information with the rest of us who know about the possibility of more Horcruxes. Why? Do you think - ?"
"I think that you need to tell me everything you know about Voldemort’s rise to power and his presumed fall, on your world," Sheldon cuts in to firmly insist, "not to mention everything that you know about his attempts to regain enough power to conquer the wizarding world, starting with the magical UK. And don’t spare the details," he quickly adds in warning. "I’ll need to know those, if I’m to determined if the initial point of divergence in your world that’s resulted in someone other than the Dursley family being responsible for raising you is something with roots far enough back to have upset or otherwise altered Voldemort’s actions, during the first of the Death Eater wars."
"But you know about the Horcruxes - how many Tom made and where he put them?" Harry just eagerly demands.
Sheldon half shrugs and half nods. "Oh, I know. But what I know is based primarily on the works of J. K. Rowling and that may not do you or the people you’ve left behind much good, if I cannot properly ascertain where the initial point of divergence for your universe lies. Without an accurately pinpointed point of divergence, there’s no way to properly calculate the possibility as to whether or not Voldemort might have changed his methodology, regarding the making of Horcruxes, meaning there would be no way to extrapolate whether or not the items that I know as Horcruxes and the locations of said items might prove to be the same in your specific universe. And you might as well not even bother looking at Penny," he adds (voice growing a little bit sharp with impatience), when the teenager turns towards Penny with wide, pleading eyes instead of immediately beginning to talk. "She’s never actually read all of the books in the main series. Claims she prefers movies to books and that, since the first three books weren’t nearly as much fun as the movies, anyway, there’s no reason why she should try to read the other volumes. Since they’ve only finished and released movies for six of the seven books, on our Earth, and it’s only in the seventh book that the Horcruxes really come to the forefront, her knowledge of the Harry Potter series would be of very little worth to you, in this matter.."
"Hey!" Penny immediately protests, scowling irritably. "I’ll have you know I flipped through the fourth and fifth books! They weren’t nearly as good as the movies. Harry hardly even sounded like Harry, the way that lady wrote him in that fifth book, and most of the supporting characters came off as either being incompetent, self-absorbed jerks, or unnecessarily mysterious assholes in both of those books. At least the characters in the movies are consistent, which is more than I can say for your precious books!"
Impatiently, Sheldon retorts, "I never claimed that the characters in the books are more consistent! Just that the books themselves are far more complex than your little movies are. In any case, though, you’re missing the point, which is that your knowledge of the Horcruxes is so incomplete as to be virtually worthless to Harry Potter."
"I know more than he does, probably!" Penny instantly retorts, obviously affronted.
"Yes, well, granted, but that still doesn’t approach my level of expertise on the subject. And since I’m the one who knows the identities and locations of all of the Horcruxes, as given in the books, and I’m the one who knows more about Voldemort’s actions, during the first of the Death Eater wars, I’m the one who’s best equipped to make the decision regarding the likelihood of the Horcruxes having been made with the same items and hidden away in the same locations, in this Harry Potter’s particular universe," Sheldon merely points out in reply, smiling a little in triumph over the knowledge that he is, indisputably, correct in this conclusion.
"Yeah, but - "
"But nothing!" Sheldon cuts her off before she can launch into some other odd and circuitous diatribe that will end up adding nothing of particular use or value to the conversation. "I’m the one who knows about the Horcruxes in Rowling’s series, and if I say that I have to know more about this Harry Potter’s world in order to reach a decision regarding the likely identities and locations of the Horcruxes on his Earth, then the very least he can do is provide me with the information that I require. So! Where’s a good place around here where we can all sit down and chat for a while? I don’t know about the rest of you, but I think I’ve done quite enough standing about for one day."
A little bit hesitantly, Cedric Diggory gestures out past the gazing pools, offering, "There are some benches up that way, if you just want to sit down awhile, while we talk."
"Benches will suffice, for now, though at some point in the near future I do hope we’ll be offered a bit more hospitality and welcome than we’ve been given thus far, including a meal that’s proven beyond a doubt to be safe for humans to ingest. I usually follow a fairly strict and balanced meal plan; however, since this is a whole other universe and a version of the GFFA to boot and many of the foodstuffs and dietary staples I am accustomed to will, logically, not be available for consumption, I believe it would behoove me to make some allowances until I’ve had time to adjust to the local cuisine," Sheldon replies, smiling a little in complacent good humor as he inclines his head agreeably. Without even bothering to turn his head to look at her, he then adds, "And you can stop looking at me like that any time now, Penny. I’ll have you know that I can be very flexible, under the right sort of circumstances, and finding myself in a universe that doesn’t even have the same days of the week as I’m used to happens to be one of them. As long as they can assure me that the food is actually safe for human consumption, I will be willing to make at least some allowances for alien cuisine."
Penny makes an odd little choked noise, at that, before muttering under her breath (not nearly quietly enough to keep him from hearing her very plainly), "Dear God, it’s a miracle. Sheldon, willing to be flexible about his food!"
He turns his head to look at her, narrowing his eyes in disapproval. "I heard that."
She just looks back at him, face scrunched up in a most unappealing fashion. "Yeah, well, maybe you were meant to."
Primly folding his arms across his chest, he points out, "Then perhaps you shouldn’t have been muttering it to yourself, as though you wished to escape notice."
"Or maybe you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping," Penny instantly (and sourly) retorts.
He manages - just barely - not to laugh at her, though it’s a very near thing. "It’s not eavesdropping if you’re standing right next to the person who’d doing the not very subtle attempt at muttering a snide comment under her breath. I’m standing within two feet of you and I happen to have very good hearing. Leonard and the others comment on it so often - usually in somewhat facetious terms, as they tend to ascribe my excellent hearing to ‘Vulcan ears,’ which is a patent falsehood, if something of a complimentary one - that frankly I’m rather surprised you’re unaware of that fact."
Penny makes an exasperated noise. "Sheldon . . . "
Sheldon tilts his head slightly to the side, in a politely inquisitive manner. "Yes?"
Penny sighs gustily, rolling her eyes. "You know what? Never mind. I’m really not in the mood for another attempt to explain why playing nice with others is important. And I really don’t think they’re in the mood to listen to it, either," she adds, waving a hand in the direction of the two Jedi. "Sweetie, you remember that talk we had about a month before you left for that Arctic expedition of yours, when I told you about how dangerous it can be to assume that other people are going to be reasonable just because you happen to think it would be the logical thing to do?"
Sheldon nods quite promptly. "Why, yes, I remember it quite clearly! You threatened to twist one of my ears off if I didn’t shut up and sit down and listen to you, as I recall. That was rather rude and unnecessarily violent, even for you," he rather sourly notes. "Why?"
Penny smiles rather tightly and gestures wordlessly towards the Jedi, in response.
Sheldon takes another look at the two Jedi, who both look extremely unhappy with him indeed. "Oh. I see. Well, if they’re going to be difficult about it, then I suppose I can ‘play nice,’ as you put it," he tells her, sighing so that she’ll know he feels extremely put upon and is only going to do what he’s about to do to avoid having her smack him again (or actually attempt to reach up and twist one of his ears off, as he’s quite certain that would be extremely painful and he’s rather fond of having his ears where they are, thanks all the same!). Sighing again, he pastes on what he hopes will be taken for a pleasant, nonthreatening sort of smile, and then steps up to the two Jedi, right hand politely outstretched. "Hello. My name’s Dr. Sheldon Cooper, and I believe we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. You see, just because the Anakin Skywalker I am familiar with from the Star Wars saga becomes a Sith Lord who murders most of the younglings in the Coruscanti Temple in cold blood and, after being defeated in battle by you, Master Kenobi, goes on to become something of a mechanical monstrosity due to the injuries inflicted on his body - which Darth Sidious seemingly goes out of his way to aggravate, in order to keep his new apprentice dependent upon him and believing that he’s too weak to challenge him for mastery - that does not necessarily mean that this Anakin Skywalker must follow the same path. There’s absolutely no reason whatsoever for you to consign yourself to a future in which you take part in the slaughter of billions of sentient beings, Padawan Skywalker. I’m quite certain that your Master can work with you on some of those pesky anger issues and, if all else fails, that a reference for a good Minder can be found, to help you deal with some of that crippling fear of loss before the Sith can turn it about on you and use that as a way to gain your cooperation and obedience. You don’t want to grow up to become Darth Vader, now do you?"
Snarling, Anakin Skywalker fiercely replies, "I would rather die!"
"Well, then, that makes it fairly simple, don’t you agree? If you believe yourself to ever be in danger of falling to the Dark Side, then all you have to do is - "
"Sheldon!" Penny cuts him off, sounding absolutely horrified.
He blinks at her, startled by the interruption and more than a little put off by her tone of voice. "What? All I was going to do was tell him that he would simply have to remember that decision and choose to refuse to permit the Sith to get the better of him. Good lord, you’d think I was about to suggest that he kill himself or some such nonsense!" he laughs scoffingly. "We want to be able to defeat the Sith, Penny, not make it easier for Darth Sidious to conquer the known galaxy and then some. Anakin Skywalker may have been more the Sith’ari than the Chosen One in the version of the GFFA that we’re familiar with, but that doesn’t mean that this Anakin Skywalker couldn’t be a formidable adversary for Sidious, with a bit of help from us to keep him firmly on the side of the Light. After all, if he’s anything like that other Anakin Skywalker, then he should be quite powerful in the Force. All he needs are some good reasons to resist the lure of the Dark Side, when Sidious makes his move and attempts to turn him."
"Oh." Penny has the good grace to at least look abashed. "Sorry, Sweetie. I thought that whole tactless thing of yours was about to get the better of you again."
Sheldon rolls his eyes impatiently. "Good lord, woman, do you even remember Revenge of the Sith and how easily Darth Sidious defeated and killed the Jedi from the High Council who went to try to arrest him? We want someone as powerful as Anakin Skywalker on our side, standing between us and Sidious, not off with Qui-Gon discovering how to become a Force spirit out of some misguidedly noble attempt to remove himself from the equation entirely, for fear that he might prove too weak to resist the Dark Side and become Darth Vader after all."
Penny sighs, shaking her head. "Yeah, there’s that whole tactless thing of yours again."
Testily, he snaps, "Well, excuse me for being practical about it! I suppose you’d prefer it if I - "
"Sheldon, you remember that discussion we keep having about how you talk too much?"
"Yes, but I - oh." Sheldon sighs huffily, rolling his eyes impatiently. "I suppose you think this is one of those times."
Penny nods hugely, giving him that false smile that means she’s about ten seconds (or one more wrong comment from him) away from losing her temper enough to hit him on the nearest arm. "Uh, yeah. So why don’t we go sit down on the nice benches for awhile and let the people from the Harry Potter ’verse tell us all about how their world is different from the one that nice Rowling lady wrote about, okay? That way, the Jedi can have some time to process things while you figure out how to solve the whole Horcrux problem for these nice wizards, and that way maybe everybody can calm down and have a chance to see you being useful so they won’t be tempted to just hurt you, to shut you up before you can say anything else that’s hurtful to them or shocking or not at all what they’d like to hear, alright?"
He’s enormously tempted to protest, but Penny actually looks worried for him (and Obi-Wan Kenobi still doesn’t look very happy with him at all), and so he simply sighs again (loudly, so that she’ll know he’s giving in under protest) and tells her, "Oh, if you insist. Come along, then. Show me to the benches and tell me about your world," he insists, turning back to Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory. "And I do mean all about your world. No skimping on the details or leaving out facts that you think I might know, simply from reading Rowling’s books. If you want me to render a decision on the Horcruxes that I am confident enough of having a reasonable chance of being correct to share with you, I must insist that I be given as full and as accurate a picture of your world as possible. I’m presuming that you want to know about Lord Voldemort’s Horcruxes in the first place because you have some way of getting this information back to the people on your world who are going to have to continue the battle without you, and I, for one, absolutely refuse to take responsibility for a judgment rendered with incomplete information, given that such faulty information could potentially result in your young friends engaging in battle with a monster who cannot be properly killed, if all of the Horcruxes that he’s made have not already been identified, hunted down, and thoroughly destroyed. Do you understand me?"
Clearly cowed, Cedric Diggory quickly and quietly replies with, "Yes, Sir."
Harry Potter gives him a hard look, but nonetheless inclines his head and (obviously somewhat begrudgingly) allows, "I understand, Dr. Cooper."
Sheldon nods his head firmly, pleased with their acquiescence and the seriousness with which they seem willing to approach the subject. "Good. Come along, then. And tell me about your world. Start with when you were born. The smallest of details altered could have had the widest ranging of consequences . . . "
*********
Several hours later - Penny’s head reeling from a story that really only bears the most superficial of resemblances with the Harry Potter ’verse she’s familiar with (Harry’s home life may have been happier, what with the Longbottoms raising him instead of the Dursleys and his godfather and godwolf - as he smilingly refers to Remus Lupin, though there’s a sadness in his eyes that reminds her he’ll probably never see Lupin or any of the rest of his friends and family again, at least not face to face - constantly visiting, doing their best both to spoil him rotten and to teach him spells that she’s darn pretty sure Harry wouldn’t’ve learned until his last two years at Hogwarts or until his training as an Auror, in the books; the trade-off, though, seems to have been in safety, and he’s lived through things that make the hair on the back of her neck stand straight up) and her stomach (in spite of everything, apparently not at all phased by the multiple shocks she’s suffered today so far) starting to roll in a way that she’s long since learned will mean it will be rumbling audibly soon enough - Harry finally brings his story to a close, quietly telling them, "Since Cedric decided to stay with me instead of trying for the Cup and using it to get out, we were both trapped in the graveyard. The call for help that Master Kenobi sent out reached us there, on there verge of being killed by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. We agreed to come. And we’ve been here ever since. There’s no way for us to go back - at least, Master Kenobi seems to think that trying to go back would accomplish nothing but to get us killed, as we would have been if we hadn’t agreed to come in the first place - but I have one of a set of two-way journals that I can use to communicate with Neville, so at least the people back home who matter know we’re alright and we have a way to get in touch and pass on anything that we learn that might be of help in the battle with Voldemort."
"I see. Well. It seems fairly clear to me that the point of divergence on your world that has kept it from being virtually identical to that of the one written of in Rowling’s series involves the actual circumstances surrounding your birth. There is no mention of Lily Potter sharing a room at St. Mungo’s with Alice Longbottom during labor or of her becoming a - how did you put it? A blood-bound sibling, correct? Hmm," Sheldon makes a thoughtful noise, leaning his chin on his right hand and tapping his index finger against his lips in a considering manner. "If there are spells involved in the process of such a binding, you’ll have to explain them to me, at some point, so that my understanding of the process will be complete, on the off chance that such a magical binding may have had an effect on the identity of the one referred to by the prophecy foretelling the coming of one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord. Either way, though, I believe it’s fairly clear that the process of binding the Potter and Longbottom families together comprises the earliest fundamental difference between your universe and that of the written series. Therefore, in all likelihood, I believe it is safe to say that, since Lord Voldemort made all but one of his other Horcruxes prior to going after you that Halloween, the identity and hiding places of those objects should be the same on your world as they were in the written series."
"But that’s great news!" Cedric immediately enthuses, waving his hands extravagantly, clearly relieved by what Sheldon’s told them. "Harry! Isn’t that great news?"
Harry, though, has somehow managed to turn even paler than he already was (and that’s pretty pale, by Penny’s standards! The kid already normally looks like he should be suffering from that disorder she never can remember the name of, the one that’s tied to not getting enough sunlight, he’s so white), and, sounding as if he can’t quite get enough air, whispers, shakily, "No. I - I don’t think it is. He - he made another Horcrux - more Horcruxes - after he came back, even though he’d already made multiple other Horcruxes - ?"
Sheldon immediately makes a dismissive gesture. "Oh, pish, it’s just the one, and he didn’t make it until after you’d already destroyed one of his Horcruxes, during the struggle in the Chamber of Secrets. Not to worry. The Dark Lord seems to have been obsessed with the number seven, believing it to be a powerful, mystical number of such great significance that he’d had every intention of splitting his soul into precisely that many pieces, with six fragments hidden away in Horcruxes and the last reposing within his body. He’d even intended to make the sixth and final Horcrux by using the death of the ‘Chosen One’ to fuel the necessary spell. In spite of his defeat, in the Potter home, he actually succeeded in doing so, albeit accidentally and without his knowledge: when his body was destroyed by the rebounded Killing Curse, a piece of his soul was struck off of the increasingly fragile and somewhat volatile mass of soul remaining within his body and attached itself to the nearest object in the room suitable for housing it, effectively making young Harry into the sixth Horcrux. Voldemort, unaware of this, later ‘completed’ his collection of Horcruxes by turning his pet snake, Nagini, into one, thus fragmenting his soul into a total of eight - counting the fragment still residing in his body - not seven, pieces. However, no more than six Horcruxes - including you, Harry - ever exist at any one time in the series, since, by the time Nagini had been made a Horcrux, one of the original Horcruxes, that of Tom’s diary, had already been destroyed."
Harry’s so white and shaky, at this point, that he looks about three seconds away from just keeling over and passing out, but he manages, somehow, to stammer out, "I - I was - ?"
Sheldon raises an eyebrow at the young teenager. "What, meant to allow the creation of a Horcrux or the bearer of a Horcrux yourself? Your death - and perhaps that of the Longbottom boy as well, though it seems to me that the Dark Lord had been unaware that the both of you would be in the Potter home that Halloween night - was certainly meant to fuel the creation of a Horcrux. And, as previously discussed, your curse scar ended up catching a fragment of the Dark Lord’s fractured soul. Since you no longer bear that mark, though, and the soul fragment was stripped from you in the process of bringing you here, I believe that it’s safe to presume that this particular Horcrux has been destroyed, meaning that there are only five other Horcruxes that your friends will need to find and destroy, prior to any attempt to engage Voldemort himself."
"Seven - no, eight soul fragments?" Cedric looks green enough that Penny feels a distinct urge to try to edge away from him, in case he actually does become physically ill. "Merlin. No wonder he’s such a monster. Merciful Morgana bless and keep us from harm! That - that’s - "
"It’s actually a good thing, for the person who’s going to end up fighting him," Sheldon interrupts. "Shattering his soul into so many pieces has left what remains attached to his body disfigured and extremely unstable - so much so that, when the time comes and his Horcruxes have all been destroyed, a simple Avada Kedavra will be enough to separate the remainder from his body permanently and finally truly kill him. Since I surmise this task is going to fall to your blood-brother, Neville, you should be happy to know that Voldemort will be as easy to kill as any other witch or wizard would be, once his Horcruxes have been destroyed. It’s the Horcruxes themselves that will likely require both the most effort to deal with properly and involve the most danger. Horcruxes are extremely difficult to destroy, and the Dark Lord has taken multiple precautions to keep most of them safe, though there is one Horcrux the location of which is not what the Dark Lord believes it to be, which should be fairly easily obtained and destroyed by your friends, seeing as how it was stolen and hidden by Regulus Black prior to his murder."
"Wait, what? Regulus? Sirius’ little brother?" Harry only demands, clearly dumbfounded by the revelation.
Sheldon shrugs slightly and tells him, in a manner so matter of fact that it almost seems nonchalant, "He stole the Slytherin locket. Trying to get past the Inferi left to guard the seaside cave where Voldemort believes he left the locket would be little more than an exercise in futility. The locket in that cave isn’t the actual Horcrux. That was left by Regulus Black in the house-elf Kreacher’s possession, prior to his murder by former fellow Death Eaters for attempting to leave the Dark Lord’s service, and, so long as your friends can get to it before Mundungus Fletcher decides to steal it, it should be easy enough to find and destroy. I would suggest, however, that you warn your friends not to handle the locket or to look at it excessively. Horcruxes tend to have a corrupting influence on those who come into direct contact with them, especially for extended periods of time."
"But how - how - ?"
"Oh, it’s all in the books. Don’t worry. I’m quite sure I have a copy of the entire set squirreled away on one of the subsets in my computer’s harddrive. Never know what one might get the yen to reread or rewatch, when one’s traveling, after all," Sheldon rather airily replies, literally waving the question off.
Still looking more than a little green around the edges, Cedric asks (somewhat hesitantly), "So - so how do you kill a Horcrux, then?"
"Ooh, wait, wait, I know this one!"Penny exclaims suddenly, remembering a conversation - okay, a debate. Well. An argument, really, with Sheldon winning - she’d heard Leonard and Sheldon having on the subject, once. "Unless the Horcrux is something or someone alive - in which case, you have to definitely kill the vessel, cause a dead body can’t work as a Horcrux since it’ll eventually break down and decay and that defeats the whole purpose of hiding the soul fragment inside of something safe - it has to be destroyed with something that’s either inherently magical or set with a spell that can’t wear out. The damage to the Horcrux has to be so bad that it can’t be fixed or healed in any way, even magically, and that really only works with things that are pretty much purely magical in nature and meant for destruction. You can’t just like stomp on it or break it with a hammer or chuck it into a regular fire or anything. You have to annihilate it magically with something that pretty much exists just to kill and destroy, and do it so much that the soul fragment has no place to try to hide itself and falls out of whatever was holding it, which kills it, since a soul fragment like that can’t exist outside of a host of some kind. Right?"
Sheldon gives her one of those looks that she’s never quite been able to completely figure out, the ones that she’d almost think look a little bit proud of her or at least pleased with her, if not for the habitual impatience and hint of disappointment lurking around the edges of his eyes. "That’s a somewhat simplistic way of explaining it, but I suppose that it is technically correct, in a rather bare bones sort of manner. To continue the summation in this fashion, though, due to the fact that creating a Horcux requires such a powerful feat of magic, it logically requires an even greater source of magic to destroy a Horcrux. In addition, since Horcruxes are formed by Dark magic, it requires something inherently destructive - something which exists solely to destroy and/or kill - to deal with a Horcrux properly. Thus, Horcruxes are, as Penny has already pointed out, rather difficult to destroy. Items which are inherently infused with magic and ensorcelled objects from which the magic cannot fade or wear off - as would, for example, be the case with a simple charmed object - are required when dealing with Horcruxes that have been deliberately crafted to act as vessels for fragments of magically sheered fragments of soul. A Horcrux that has been accidentally created, in part due to intent to commit the murder necessary for the purposeful splitting of the soul required for a creation of a Horcrux and in part due to magical backlash and trauma upon a being with a soul that has been rendered unstable and, thus, extremely fragile, via previous multiple instances wherein said soul has been deliberately fractured for the creation of other Horcruxes, is, given either certain precautionary measures or else a willingness to sacrifice the life of the host, somewhat more easily dealt with, although in your case I don’t believe we need to worry ourselves about this, Harry, as you’ve already been rid of the fragment of the Dark Lord’s soul that had become lodged in your curse scar," Sheldon calmly explains, his mouth curved in that small half smile that indicates he’s truly interested in the topic he’s expounding on and quite pleased with himself and the quantity/quality of his knowledge.
That’s a look Penny’s seen many times before, one that she usually dreads, since it means Sheldon’s likely to ramble on for a long time on the same subject, whether anyone else finds it interesting or not, but all things considered, she finds that particular look to be almost comforting at the moment, given how important the subject is for the two teenagers (especially Harry, who seems like a really sweet kid who’s had to shoulder way too much responsibility for someone his age) who’re intently listening to every word coming out of Sheldon’s mouth. "Neville didn’t end up with a curse scar like yours, right?" she asks a little hesitantly, just to make absolutely sure, when Sheldon pauses for a moment, to let his words sink in.
Harry, though, shakes his head. "Not a curse scar, no, not really. The backlash from the rebounded Killing Curse kind of destroyed the house. There were protective charms and spells on the nursery, especially the crib, but . . . well, part of the ceiling came down, and it landed on us. Over us. Well. Mostly over us, but Neville got hit with a fragment and it sliced his forehead open, just here," he explains, raising his right hand to brush his fingertips over his right temple. "No one was really sure, at first, if the curse scar was the mark the prophecy mentioned or not. We were both marked, in here and here," he waves vaguely towards his head and his chest - his heart, Penny figures out after a few moments - shoulders hunching slightly inwards, as if in pain, "and I think Mom thought it would be better if we both had at least one visible scar. She wanted us to always remember what had happened, so we’d know what we were fighting for and why but so we’d also remember to at least try to be safe, too. And I think she thought that if she left it to heal mostly on its own, it’d make it harder for anyone to figure out which one of us to come after, if the prophecy ever came out. It’s just a crescent shape, really - looks a little bit like a horned moon - but he’s never gotten it healed away, even though he could’ve. It’s not a curse scar, though."
"And his head doesn’t feel like it’s trying to split open whenever he’s near Voldemort?" Penny presses, just to make absolutely sure.
Harry shakes his head, mouth twisting slightly, as if he’s tasted something bitter. "No. That was just something that happened to me."
"Neville isn’t a Horcrux, then," Sheldon promptly pronounces. "The pain in your head was from the soul fragment lodged in the curse scar, trying - and failing - to get free of you and find some way of rejoining the larger fragment of soul still lodged within the Dark Lord. I believe that, since the ritual for making a Horcrux wasn’t actually performed, in your case, and the soul fragment was sheered off of the remainder of the Dark Lord’s soul largely by accident, it felt a greater affinity for the rest of the soul and, rather than being content to simply remain lodged in its vessel, was compelled to try to break free of you and rejoin itself to the larger soul mass every time it sensed the presence of the Dark Lord nearby or the Dark Lord’s malevolence was running particularly high."
Penny smiles at the teenager in what she hopes is a reassuring way. "Soul fragments can’t rejoin themselves unless the person who’d split their soul feels a lot of remorse for the murders that created the Horcruxes in the first place, so that’s alright, then. The Horcrux in your curse scar will be gone, and Neville doesn’t have one to worry about, so there’s only five others to worry about and the Dark Lord himself."
"Which is just as well, as I would assume you’ve brought your invisibility cloak here with you," Sheldon promptly adds, making Penny frown with confusion until she remembers the significance of the cloak.
"Right! Cause of the whole thing with ring and the cloak and the wand," she nods when she figures it out.
Harry, though, looks shocked and upset. "No one’s supposed to know about - !"
Sheldon immediately rolls his eyes extravagantly. "Oh, please! Like that wouldn’t make it into the books." He makes a rude little dismissive sort of noise. "It’s rather clumsily introduced in the sixth book and is an extremely obvious deus ex machina in the seventh and final volume. Rowling was trying very hard to be clever about it, but to be perfectly honest, it’s all so last minute and inappropriately named considering that all of the historical records and legends associated with magical hallows include at least four items of power if not more that it comes off more as the rushed attempt of an inexperienced writer to frantically tie up loose ends and defeat the main villain of the overall saga without in the process also permanently killing off the main hero. Really, if she’d wanted to include an element like that in the series in such a manner that it would seem to fit properly within the framework of the world she’d created, then she should have been seeding more information on wizarding culture - especially the fairytales and folklore of wizarding Britain - in the books, as early on as the first volume." He sniffs audibly, in obvious contempt. "She lost quite a few of her fans, over that, though to be honest, I wouldn’t thought that the change in tone from books - "
Harry’s staring at Sheldon with a look of only thinly restrained horror, so Penny rushes to interrupt, blurting out, "Of course, we won’t talk about it, if it’s supposed to be a secret!"
Cedric looks confused but resigned. "This is more Order of the Phoenix business, right?"
Harry turns an apologetic look to the other teenager. "Sorry. I promised I wouldn’t - "
Cedric shrugs and ducks his head to run a hand through his hair, though he doesn’t quite move quickly enough to hide the look of mingled frustration and disappointment in his yes. "I won’t pry. I know they think I’m too young to help, since I haven’t had the kind of training you’ve had. Just, you know, if there’s anything I can do to help, you know I will. I want to help."
Harry shoots the other boy a smile that’s half apologetic and half pleading. "I know you do. I know it. I just - I promised I wouldn’t say anything about this, because there’s so much at stake and there are these things that could be insanely powerful if they were ever all combined and . . . look, I’ll write home and ask about it again, try to make them understand that it’s silly to try to keep it a secret when there are others here who know all about it, okay?" He turns and shoots Penny and Sheldon a look of wide-eyed desperation. "You won’t say anything more about it, until I’ve had a chance to talk with Mom and the others back home, will you?"
Sheldon rolls his eyes but (at a pointed look from Penny) sighs and allows, "Since any additional knowledge of the given subject matter shouldn’t impact the ability of your friends and family to take care of the other Horcruxes much, if you would prefer not to talk about it further just now, then I suppose that would be acceptable. However, I feel that it’s necessary to point out that this means that there are certain aspects of a Horcrux that I will be unable to discuss freely until such a time as you do decide that this other topic is open for further discussion."
It takes a couple of seconds for Harry to parse all of that (which Penny totally doesn’t blame him for, since she’s had basically a year to get used to the way Sheldon talks and still has trouble following him sometimes, even when he’s not talking about things that are clearly outside her range of knowledge/experience), but he nods eagerly, flashing them a relieved smile, once he has figured it all out. "I’d appreciate that. And I’ll write Neville and the others today, and get it sorted out, so hopefully it won’t end up mattering much, in the long run, if we don’t talk about it now, okay?"
Penny nods eagerly, and, after shooting Sheldon another pointed look, he sighs again, and shrugs, shoulders twitching a little bit irritably, allowing, "I suppose that should suffice, yes."
"Okay, then. Back to the previous subject!" Penny brightly interjects into the awkward silence that follows, before anyone else can say anything. "Destroying Horcruxes. You’ll want to tell Neville how to do that, when you write."
When Harry nods and turns his attention back to Sheldon, Sheldon relaxes slightly, his previous irritability leaving him as he starts expounding on Horcruxes again. "Ah. Yes, of course you’ll want to be able to pass that along in your communication. That’s only logical. Very well, then! Where were we? Ah. Horcrux destruction. So. The most important thing to remember about Horcruxes is that, because an act of singularly Dark and powerful magic is required to make one, it generally requires something inherently Dark and/or destructive as well as quite magically powerful to destroy one. Thus, they cannot be destroyed by conventional means such as smashing, breaking, or burning. As previously mentioned, in order to destroy a Horcrux, that Horcrux must be made to suffer physical damage so severe that repair through magical means would be utterly impossible. Very few magical objects or spells are powerful enough to achieve this. Once a Horcrux is irreparably damaged, though, the fragment of soul within it is also destroyed, since a soul fragment cannot exist outside of a container. Since a Horcrux can only be magically undone if the creator chooses to go through a process of deep remorse for the murder committed to create the Horcrux - the pain of which is supposed to be so excruciating that the process itself may kill the creator - odds are that, once a soul has been splintered to create a Horcrux, that soul will never be whole again, and so the host should be fairly easy to defeat, once the Horcruxes have been dealt with. The Killing Curse, for example, would easily suffice."
Harry and Cedric exchange wide-eyed looks, at that, clearly not at all comfortable with the idea of anyone trying to use the Killing Curse - even to defeat the Dark Lord - but they don’t try to interrupt, and so, after a few moments, Sheldon nods to himself (clearly pleased with their willingness to listen to him, even if he says something they might not necessarily like to hear) and starts speaking again.
"Basilisk venom - being the product of a Dark magical creature and virtually incurable save by the application of phoenix tears, which cannot act on an inanimate object as they would on a live subject - is an excellent choice for Horcrux destruction, in which case the use of either basilisk fangs or of goblin-forged, inherently magical weapons infused with basilisk venom becomes highly appropriate for a would-be Horcrux hunter. Fiendfyre is also an acceptable tool for Horcrux destruction, as it is an extremely malevolent form of powerful Dark magic, though the difficulty involved in controlling it makes it . . . something of a last resort, in my opinion," Sheldon explains, his face tightening slightly with distaste at the mention of Fiendfyre and its temperamental nature. "Since you and Neville managed to defeat and destroy the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, during your rescue of Ginny Weasley, I would suggest telling your friends to harvest the remaining fangs and use them, in combination with the Gryffindor sword, to destroy the Horcruxes they hunt down."
Penny finds her attention drifting, as Sheldon begins to launch into a long and somewhat convoluted explanation as to which objects the Dark Lord chose to use as containers for his soul fragments and where those Horcruxes were hidden away and why and under which sorts of probable protective enchantments and traps. The two Jedi - Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker (who seems like a nice kid, to her, and not at all the kind of person who’d grow up to become Darth Vader) - aren’t sitting with them on the benches, and she finds her gaze drawn to them, partially out of fascinated (if maybe just a little bit morbid) curiosity and partially out of sympathy for the terrible shock they received, when she and Sheldon revealed that Anakin and Darth Vader are one and the same, in the version of the GFFA that they’re familiar with from the movies and stuff back home.
When they’d gone to sit down on the benches, Obi-Wan had pulled the clearly distraught Anakin away, further up the lawn, explaining in an clipped (and clearly less than pleased with Sheldon, if the dark look that the Jedi sent his way were anything to go by) voice that there were things that they urgently needed to discuss and that they would catch up on the important details of the Horcruxes later, after they’d decided whether or not Sheldon’s knowledge of the written Harry Potter world should apply to the world in which Harry and Cedric had grown up. Anakin had looked like he was about one harsh word away from either having the screaming hysterics or else bursting into tears, and, despite the fact that she distinctly remembers siding with Leia and not Luke in the original movies, when it came to Vader, she can’t quite help feeling sorry for the poor kid. As far as she knows, he hasn’t done anything bad in this time line yet - heck, it’s even too early for the whole Sand People massacre (which, to be honest, she’s never really blamed him for all that much. If a bunch of alien monsters kidnapped and tortured her mom to death, she’d go ape-shit on their asses and kill the whole damned lot of them, too, by God, and screw the whole being calm and rational and turning the other cheek shit!) - and the idea of becoming a Sith Lord some day clearly fills him with revulsion and fear, not happiness or anything like joy, so she’s inclined to believe him when he says that he’d rather die, than turn to the Dark Side.
When Obi-Wan took him aside, one hand gently but firmly wrapped around his upper arm (physically steering him along, as though afraid the boy might make a run for it, like a skittish horse, or just sit down and curl up in a ball and refuse to ever move again, if left on his own), the Padawan was pale and silent and visibly shaking. They didn’t stop moving until they were far enough away to be safely out of earshot, but they stopped in plain sight, and, between all of the hand-flapping and arm-waving and hunched shoulders and flinching and, eventually, hugging, it’s pretty obvious that they’ve been talking about the whole Vader thing. She’s found herself looking at them, again and again, during the more familiar bits of Harry and Cedric’s story, and her heart melted into a big puddle of goo, when Obi-Wan finally reached out and pulled the teen into a hug and Anakin stopped trying to fight against the affectionate gesture and relaxed into the embrace. Anakin looks a lot younger, hugging his Master - less like a teenager who’s doing his best to be an adult and more like a kid who’s had to grow up way the hell too fast and knows too damned much for his own good. It reminds her of the way Harry Potter looks, whenever the Dark Lord’s name is spoken, and it makes her heart hurt so much that it’s hard to remember to breathe.
Anakin and Harry seem to have a lot in common, to her. Both of them singled out by prophecies, both of them too powerful for their own good and with hearts definitely too big and too open for their own damned good, and both kids trying their absolute damnedest to live up to impossible expectations. The other wizards and witches were afraid of Harry too, at more than one point during the overall story, as she remembers, because they were afraid that he might go Dark and they thought that he must be destined to be more powerful than even Voldemort, since he’d survived that night when the Dark Lord tried to kill him. She bets it would probably help if Harry talked to Anakin, too, after things have a chance to quiet down a little. Harry seemed upset - not as if he felt betrayed by Anakin or anything stupid like that, but genuinely pissed off at them, for suggesting that Anakin could ever be evil enough to become a Sith Lord - when the whole Vader thing came out, and he’s a good kid who knows what it’s like to have people not trust him, so he’ll probably ask to talk to Anakin about it at some point, maybe even sooner rather than later, once he’s gotten in touch with the people he had to leave behind, that is. The idea makes her feel better. She’d try saying something to Anakin himself, but as prickly as he’d been when Sheldon came right out and asked him if he wanted to grow up to be Darth Vader, well . . . she kinda gets the feeling that any attempt on her part to help smooth things over now might not be taken the right way. Not by Anakin, anyway. Now, Obi-Wan . . . that’s a whole other bushel of beans, as her aunt used to say.
Obi-Wan Kenobi is nothing like what she might’ve been expecting, if she’d ever once given actual serious thought to meeting the man some day. Though her original impression of him - as an old man extremely emotionally attached to Luke and therefore willing to do all kinds of crazy things (even manipulate the hell out of the boy, for what he thought of as Luke’s own good. She might not be the brightest bulb, but she’d been doing that whole reverse psychology thing to get her way with boys for years, before she ever saw the original three films, so she knows how to recognize a fast one when she sees it. Obi-Wan always meant for Luke for take Vader’s side. He wanted Luke to try to win his father over, to find the good in him again and to bring him back to the Light Side. She kinda thought it was bullshit, personally - he tortured Leia, for God’s sake! He might not have known who she really was, at the time, but that still doesn’t excuse it, in Penny’s book! - but she knew, all the same, that Obi-Wan Kenobi never meant for Luke to give up on saving Darth Vader, even if that little green troll Yoda obviously did) to keep him safe and help him - altered slightly, after seeing the prequel films and listening to her geeky boys argue them to death, she never would’ve thought that Obi-Wan Kenobi could be so . . . well, so charismatic and forceful, to be honest.
When she first saw the first of the prequel films, she’d come away from the movie with a real hate-on for Qui-Gon Jinn (arrogant, self-righteous, stupid bastard, going and getting himself killed like an ass instead of waiting for help!), a fascination for the handmaidens (she still doesn’t get why there aren’t books or at least comics written about the handmaidens. They’re like ninja bodyguards hiding out in plain sight! It’s so damn cool she just can’t understand why everyone else doesn’t get how cool they are, too), a horrible choking sense of pity and heartbreak for poor Shmi Skywalker (who gave up her son, so he could have a chance at a better life, and got royally screwed in the process. She still doesn’t understand why the hell Queen Amidala didn’t do something to help free Shmi, after Naboo was safe, as noble and as good as she’s supposed to’ve been), a slightly reluctant sense of feeling sorry for poor Anakin (who obviously had such high hopes and did his absolute best to help and got treated like shit by the Jedi High Council for it), and a burning sense of righteously indignant fury for Obi-Wan’s sake, for being treated like an expendable nuisance by his Master and letting the High Council fob Anakin off on him when they didn’t want to take on the added responsibility to train him, even if it would keep him away from the remaining Sith. Her instinct, basically, had been to drop-kick Yoda and every single fucker on the Jedi High Council out the window of their Council Chamber, slug Qui-Gon and then tell him precisely what she thought of him, hug poor Shmi, throw a parade for the handmaidens, flick Anakin’s ear while ruffling his hair so she could get his attention and tell him to wise up and stop trying so damn hard to please other people and to worry about more about making himself happy, and snuggle poor Obi-Wan.
She spent most of the second prequel film wanting to smack everyone (especially Yoda and Mace Windu. God! If they only would have listened to Obi-Wan, the arrogant, incompetent fuckers - !) for refusing to listen to Obi-Wan, wanting to tell Anakin to grow the fuck up already and stop worrying so goddamned much about impressing some big-shot politician who obviously wasn’t interested in giving him the time of day if she couldn’t find some way of using him that was to her advantage, first, and being horrified at how bizarrely and hideously out of character Padmé Amidala had become in every way that really fundamentally mattered, between the events of the first film and the start of this one. By the end of the movie, she was absolutely convinced that the Sith Lord had to have been meddling with both Padmé and Anakin (minds and wills!), to make them behave in such singularly stupid, selfish, out of character ways, and she wanted so badly to give Obi-Wan a hug that she was almost crying with how unfair the whole damned thing was for him.
She spent most of the third movie crying and feeling like she was going to be sick and broke up with her then current boyfriend on the spot (storming out of the movie theater to hide in the bathroom and then sneaking back in later on so she could watch it again, by herself, though she’ll never, ever admit as much to Sheldon!) when he tried to use the movie as an excuse to make out. She’d wanted to hug Obi-Wan so hard by the end of the damned thing that her arms had ached for days, afterwards, because she’d ended up hugging herself so tightly for so much of the movie.
Trying to snuggle this Obi-Wan Kenobi, though, would be like trying to snuggle . . . God, Brad Pitt’s character towards the beginning of Troy or Galadriel in the middle of that vision she had of what she’d become if she took the One Ring from Frodo or something. Someone with a lot more in common with a young god or a demented angel than any mere mortal, to be sure!
PS: Right, so . . . stress basically makes me insane. This is what I did for NaNo the year my dad was diagnosed with multiple myeloma (2010), y'all. It took me forever to get it posted (because our home computer is dial-up only and most of the time while Dad was in the hospital and first getting treatments it was just NOT a good idea to tie up the phone line at all) and then it was erased with ff.net decided to take my entire account down, so . . . the only real proof of when it was written, besides copious correspondance on the subject between me and my idea beta, is probably over here 2011-04-20 at my LJ http://polgarawolf.livejournal.com/171451.html if anyone's interested/curious.