Chương 8: The Best Laid Plans

We left to purchase mundane supplies later in the month. McGonagall had picked up most of the list already: quills, ink, reams of parchment, cauldron, telescope, books (obviously), and most wizarding outerwear like robes and a hat. However, the Hogwarts list was the minimum. I was planning to spend most of a year there, so packing extra only made sense.

Along with the notebooks, we picked up the rest of the ordinary toiletries listed, a messenger bag, clothes that would hopefully still fit after a year of growing, and enough mundane supplies to make life easier. As well as some minor entertainment (cards, a kit for stage magicians, a box of rubber ducks… only the most useful of things really). I vetoed a sewing kit Ms Parish had considered buying for me—there was Reparo for that—but conceded on a first-aid kit.

It was probably redundant with magical healing but I could never say no to an emergency backup for safety. She also insisted on buying a few feminine hygiene products and undergarments I didn't need yet, much to my uneasy embarrassment. Dresses were one thing. Bras brought down the reality that I was going to be growing breasts—and breasts were inherently a sexual-dimorphic characteristic. Maybe if I just ignored it, time would never pass and I could stay a child forever. Seemed reasonable.

Lastly, I picked up a few specific items for potential scenarios. A pair of woolen socks (for Dumbledore). A pair of stretchy socks (as a backup for Dobby's freedom). And fake, fogged-up glasses that were hard to see through (hopefully enough to save a life when meeting the basilisk's gaze). I packed those last ones in with the gag items. Everything else I could think of was either too expensive, too bulky, too restricted, or too reliant on electricity—which wouldn't work in a highly magical environment.

At the end of our shopping trip, we did a trial packing of my 'new' trunk to confirm it all fit. I was thankful that my small stature meant less room taken up by clothing. Fifty days before the first of September. Fifty days to get a head start. Fifty days didn't seem like a lot when faced with all I wanted to do. Without being able to cast magic due to the Trace, my current goal became repeating Hermione's feat of memorizing every book before the train ride.

I quickly became even more of a shut-in than before, diving headfirst into my new obsession. I even read the Lockhart collection. The narcissist was going to give a pop quiz over them on the first day, so might as well treat it as homework. Hermione was able to get books from the restricted section by sucking up to him, and more magic was more than enough of a reason for me to take the task seriously. To my surprise, his books were actually engaging. Lockhart really was a decent author.

It felt like reading a power fantasy adventure novel. Even the annoying traits of the main character felt more endearing when presented from his perspective. Sadly, I couldn't put any stock in the actual information in the books. I knew, for instance, that the werewolf condition couldn't be cured with a spell, but I had no way of knowing what else Lockhart made up for a compelling narrative. So I treated them as pure fantasy books despite also knowing some of the events did actually happen to other people.

Where the quality of the Lockhart books had surprised me, most of the other textbooks were equally surprising in how poorly written they were. I was reminded that a typical college textbook was written and reviewed by teams of experts. These were written by individuals—individuals who were experts in their respective fields to be sure—but the writing and teaching aspects often took a backseat to just throwing information at the reader and expecting them to understand.

Magical Theory, by Adalbert Waffling, proved to be the most interesting of these. There were a lot of useful tidbits. In particular, how most magic naturally supported life. It was for this reason that enchanted objects and magical creatures often gained a level of sapience; and how people managed to survive being affected by bizarre things that should kill them under the laws of physics.

Magic wasn't safe by any means, but people were more likely to irreversibly ruin someone's quality of life than accidentally commit murder. The book went on to explain a bit about how magic worked. Things I had questioned while reading the series, but generally dismissed as irrelevant. Like 'how to control magic and direct it into spells', 'how a teacher could help a student beyond just demonstrating wand movement and pronunciation', or 'the differences between the schools of magic'.

Similar to how humans were technically classified as animals, wizards were classified as magical creatures by magical researchers. Our innate magic was one that responded defensively to emotions, particularly by trying to achieve things we feel we 'need'. Wands were tools to translate innate magic into structured magic. Gamp's Law was also covered. Which meant Ron couldn't remember basic information in a first-year book. On the other hand, I took offense to it being called a 'Law' in the first place.

It should be called Gamp's Theory. Laws of nature shouldn't have so many exceptions. Let alone so many that made no sense. A wizard could make more food through magic, but not the base food itself? How does magic identify food; because wizards absolutely could make things from nothing that are edible to other creatures. Then there is the 'Inability to create gold or valuables'. Literally one of the main draws of the Philosopher's Stone—the item, not the book—was its ability to turn any material into gold.

And what was being defined as 'valuable'? One man's trash is another man's treasur e. I think Gamp—and Waffling for that matter—was just a particular mix of brilliant and idiotic. Wizards really needed the scientific method and a system of peer-review. What the book explicitly didn't explain was why astronomy is important for wizards to know. Only that learning and studying it did somehow help. There were theories, but none of them made sense. Even Waffling agreed on that point.

I guess there was a good reason it was studied in the Department of Mysteries. When it became apparent that astronomy was important, I pushed Ms Parish to drive around and pick up several free muggle books on the topic for additional reading. Magical Theory was interesting and helpful, but it also felt reductive, inaccurate, and incomplete. An introductory text that was never intended to explain everything. On the more practical side, contemporary casting—structured magic—was broken down into five components.

First, and most important, was magical power. Magic was an energy source. One that behaved very differently—and followed very different rules—than other energies like electricity or kinetic. Without enough of it, no magic could be cast. The biggest reason 'power' was the most important, was that deficiencies in any or all of the other four parts of a spell could be substituted with enough of it. Don't want to bother with control? More power. Don't want to say words or wave your wand? More power.

Don't have the willpower to even decide what you want to do with the magic? That could be covered as well; magic had its own inherent will. Magical power, by itself, could create an unknown amount of truly random and uncontrolled effects. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Unfortunately, the book didn't go into detail on how to get more power.

I'd have to look into it more at school, but I could already deduce any method wouldn't be easy or everyone would be pursuing it. Second was control of the magic. Correctly guiding and directing the raw magic into the forms needed for a consistent and desired result. Essentially, the ability to channel. Third was intent, or mindset… or belief—the terms were used interchangeably as far as I could tell—basically the wizard's emotions. It was more readily detectable in higher level spellwork.

The Patronus Charm needed happiness. The Cruciatus Curse needed cruelty. Moreover, wanting to achieve a magical effect helped with achieving it, and being more precise and clear with that intent helped. It reminded me of what McGonagall said about learning to sense magic. Wanting to develop the ability would help speed up the process. There was an additional subset of theory for this step called, 'The Three S's of Simpler Spellcasting: Specificity, Simplicity, and Scope'.

I could summarize the section with a single sentence; doing less with magic was easier. Fourth was nature. Pre-existing effects and variables that affect magic. Magic was easier to cast in high magic areas, like Hogwarts. This was especially important in Transfiguration, where the original item's form and qualities heavily impacted the difficulty of the spell. The last was ritual, and it was by far the most annoying aspect of spellcasting. In short, wand waving and chanting.

The book mentioned older casting being much more involved for the same effects that were commonplace today. At the mention of this, I imagined the classic rituals seen in horror movies, with magic circles drawn in blood or chalk and hours spent chanting. According to A History of Magic, both the invention and advancements of wandcraft proved to be massive turning points for wizardkind, sparking more than a few wars among magical beings. Usually with goblins.

Competency in magic was often displayed by minimizing these aspects of spellcasting as much as possible. Non-verbal magic, wand pokes or taps instead of the precise movements, control over wandless magic, etc. There was considerably more to magic than just the mechanics of casting. Small things to keep in mind that would make magic more effective or last longer.

Similarities for transforming items, focus, 'conceptual synchronicity', and something referred to as 'echoes' which seemed to be another catch-all term for elements of magic outside of the wizards control. The textbooks simply accepted that there were a lot of unknowns when it came to magic. It was a view counter to my sensibilities. I liked to know and plan for everything I could. The one repeated bit of practical advice the book gave on how to improve, was practice.

It didn't just help in the normal way, it was a ritual in and of itself. The spells a wizard uses more often, literally become easier to cast for that wizard. Like 'magic muscles' creating invisible veins for power to flow through a spell. So I should practice the most useful spells over and over again whenever I have downtime.' I fear not the man who has practiced 10, 000 kicks once, but I fear one who has practiced one kick 10, 000 times.' The most versatile first-year spell was probably Wingardium Leviosa.

Unless I found something more critical during the year, I was going to focus on that. When I wasn't reading, I alternated between practicing the upcoming wand movements, learning calligraphy under Ms. Parish, and spending every moment trying to sense magic from my wand.

Ms Parish covered for me with the rest of the House, explaining that I had been accepted into a prestigious program due to my situation and was working to catch up on missed time. I think the confirmation that magic was real had made me her favorite charge, especially since I wasn't causing any more magical accidents. I was more than willing to use that to my benefit. Outside of my educational pursuits, I planned. Usually at night to keep things hidden.

One of the larger notebooks Ms Parish bought me was set aside for everything I could remember about the Harry Potter series and the speculation my memories brought up. I used a simple substitution cipher to write the notes. I'd have preferred a more secure method of information security given the impact this stuff could have on the world, but I didn't exactly know any exotic languages, or have the time to figure something more complex out with everything else I was taking on.

Trying to keep everything organized in my head was a horrible idea. Apart from the fact that memory becomes more faulty over time, the first—and easiest—recipe taught in Magical Drafts and Potions was a Forgetfulness Potion. Obliviate was bad enough, but every person in Hogwarts would have easy access to a method that could mess with my memories. I needed a backup, and having everything laid out in front of me did make planning easier.

I was missing plot points and details, but after several weeks of dwelling on the story, I was fairly certain I had most of the important stuff recorded. I had to stop and calm down after remembering Dobby's full situation. Slavery. The description of his daily treatment in The Chamber of Secrets, boiled the blood in my veins. The house-elves remained enslaved at the end of this series, and Dobby—the only free elf—was killed off. I was very well read.

Books, and the philosophies they presented, had been my greatest refuge in my first life. The worlds where slavery was presented as beneficial were poorly written slop at best. More often, they just revealed something deeply wrong about the author. Slavery was wrong to me on such a fundamental level. Magically enforced slavery—I wouldn't let this continue. The situation infuriated me to the point where I had to actively stop myself from imagining ways to commit murder with magic.

Killing may be a very effective way to change policies, but it was better to achieve things with peace when possible. Besides, I didn't have the power to follow through on those ideals. Not yet. It was more practical to meet the elves and work out a way to protect their livelihood through reforms. I had to focus. Voldemort, and the second wizarding war. The issues with the elves weren't as pressing. Voldemort was planning on attempting to enslave the entirety of the non-magical population.

He wouldn't succeed—even without Harry, the memes about guns vs wizards would doubtlessly prove true—but pushing that ideology wasn't great for anyone, particularly the elves. Shit tended to flow downhill, and slaves were always at the bottom. First things first, approach the task logically. I was a Business Major; I knew Project Management. Might as well make use of it. Step one: What do I want to achieve?

First, I want to improve the outcome of the books and save as many lives as possible: Dobby, Sirius, Cedric, Dumbledore, Hedwig, Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Snape… really, any 'good' person who died. Second, I wanted to obtain benefits for myself: wealth, magical power, unique enchanted items, and perhaps even immortality; if I could manage it without losing too much. Third; make friends. Don't completely isolate myself or die alone… again.

Fourth, I needed to gain an understanding over what happened to me that led to my transmigration. Understanding myself was going to help in efficient decision making. It could also help in my second goal if it leads to discoveries. Step two: What do I have, what are my resources, and what do I lack? I had detailed knowledge of the next six years at Hogwarts and a few tidbits from the extended universe. I knew many of the major players in the conflict by proxy. I also had a bit of time.

The first death I could potentially prevent was Cedric Diggory's, or possibly that of the Ministry witch Pettigrew captures for Voldemort. On the other hand, I was an unknown, unimportant, and orphaned first-year with very little in the way of resources or practical magic experience. However, I was about to live at the best place in the world to learn about magic and influence events. Third: What factors could I control or change? Magic was real, and prophecies existed.

Dumbledore himself said not all prophecies came true, but the implication in those words was that most did. If Fate existed, then my actions against the main plot could prove pointless. Harry had too many convenient encounters that just so happened to provide him with exactly what he needed to become involved in the plot. If this isn't a book, then that meant something was happening to cause those coincidences. I was inclined to believe that actions mattered, but I also couldn't deny evidence.

There was going to be some 'Fate Magic' at play and working against it might prove difficult. As I sat down to plan my exact steps, I couldn't help coming to the same conclusion over and over. The best plan was to tell Dumbledore and let him handle everything. He could go after the horcruxes, finish off Voldemort, save everyone. It was simple really. Peoples' lives were on the line and Dumbledore was unquestionably interested in saving everyone except Voldemort. The best plan possible.

I might have to give up a few otherwise exclusive benefits—like anonymity and whatever the Room of Requirement had to offer—but It would leave me free to focus on my other goals like learning magic and ending slavery. There was still the concern about 'butterflies'—the idea that acting on future knowledge would change the future—thus making the very information being relied on obsolete. Telling Dumbledore right away could cause so many changes that all my knowledge of future events might become irrelevant.

Harry's plot armor indicated he was 'The Chosen One'. The one destined to defeat Voldemort. Would telling Dumbledore change that? Would the changes he makes cause new problems? The kind that killed more people and still resulted in Harry fighting for his life, only without the life experiences he would have had if I'd done nothing? Hogwarts would have books on the topic. Divination was a class after all. Maybe I should keep a safe distance from plot events and the main trio—Harry, Ron, and Hermione—just in case.

I was in the year behind them, so it might be better to befriend some of the characters slightly removed from the main stage, like Hagrid, Ginny, or Luna. People who could influence things if I needed to cause a change. I almost wanted to avoid telling Dumbledore, at least until I read up on my situation from a magical perspective. Not that I'd have much choice in the matter. The Sorting Hat reacted to Harry's thoughts, suggesting it possessed a more advanced form of mind reading than typical Legilimency.

And I couldn't reasonably avoid the Hat unless I refused to attend Hogwarts, which wasn't an option. Who in their right mind would turn down magical training? So, I would put on the Hat—it would find out all my secrets—and Dumbledore would know everything. It would all become his problem. Fifty days. I had so little time.