Stupid Train, Rain, and Pain

*Sunday 1 September 1991*

Why can't we just Floo over to the fucking school? Be here before 5pm and everyone's happy. The silly train ride makes no actual sense other than, 'we stole it but don't know what to do with it, let's torture children.'

"Stop sulking, it's only a train ride." Sirius admonished. He was guiding me to platform 9 3/4 for my first ride to Hogwarts. It was tradition more then anything, but if was a rite of passage for both children and their parents. The stoically proud fathers and tearfully fussy mothers on the platform gave the families clarity. A sense that their children now will have to muddle their way through life a bit more independently. There were some stern grandparents, but the case for their sternness was usually known by the wizarding community at large. Lost heirs and children in the war against dark lords, business competitors, or simply accidents when researching magic.

On that subject, we were able to save at least one individual. Pandora Lovegood. She was injured during a runic crafting. Instead of dying she was simply knocked through a wall and fell unconscious for a few weeks. I had simply written a letter to the editor on the complete lack of personal safety equipment being used in high risk research fields. Which to be honest, is all research fields involving magic. Article published and, bada-bing-bada-boom you have some of the more intelligent magical folks taking some measure of safety precautions. Due to me simply throwing the idea out there, I was credited with bringing a minor revolution in the fields of medical research and other high risk professions.

Coming back to the Victorian relic, I grudgingly admit it had a unique charm of it's own. As a former mechanical engineering graduate it was pretty easy to figure out the parts and their purpose. But what honestly amazed me and continues to do so, it that all these parts are all hand crafted. Sure there was machinery involved but it wasn't like a CNC machine where you upload a design and the computer sorts it out for you. Take the escapement springs for example, a simple method to regulate and ease the pressure going into the steam chest, but the housing, linkages and fittings are all crafted by hand by a very skilled machinist.

"A nine hour train ride." I replied after some time. Those close to me have become used to my brooding aloofness. For a while Gabriella thought I was retarded. My slow replies during casual and to my mind unimportant conversations. I simply don't give a shit if the conversation is of no interest to me. I can use that time to build my Mind Palace.

Occlumency is a major component of practicing and researching magic at a higher level. Simple spells you can practice until you can do them wordless and wandless. The way to get there, one of the ways, is to practice the correct form of the spell so many times that the simple act of mental recall and intent will cast the spell. For higher spells the same thing is possible, but the mental image needs to be stronger and more precise. Throw dark magic into the mix and the strength of the mind becomes the key component to success.

I am currently still on my Mind Palace stage. For some reason it takes me a long time to start the process, but when it's underway, I practically breeze through. Like Magic Circulation for example, it took me two years to get a feel for my magic flow, but once I did, in only three months I was circulating magic throughout my body at will. I have recently learned to close off my magic flow outside my body to stop interference with potions and runes.

My mental occlumency training took a similar but thankfully shorter route. Five months to find and map out my mindscape. Two weeks to setup a basic barrier. A lifetime of refining and rebuilding my Mind Palace and it's defences. Yes it's an ongoing process, says the relatively uncorrupted 800 year old vampire. Most magical people stop after a certain point, due to lack of ambition, knowledge or skill. According to Gabriella, all you need is a bit of imagination, and you can do whatever your heart desires. She got a look in her eye that honestly, reminded me of a murderous psychopath I came across on one of my missions, we shot him on sight, he was armed and shot pointed an AK at us, but that look was unnerving. The look of someone who just wants to watch the world burn.

I got onto the train and found a compartment. No one was there, I put Moros on the berth above, there is a special berth for the cats of wizard and witches, no matter where cats are spoiled, and sat down. I took a notepad from my expanded bag and wrote, 'Car 4, Compartment 17', and sent the note to Hermione. I closed and locked the door before long, don't want children listening to the planning stages of global conquest, what I'm British. Ok not global conquest, but at least the first year of Hogwarts. If we play our cards right, we can get the Philosopher's Stone within the first 2 weeks, I really don't want to wait for months, dragging my feet for something so accessible.

Also I have a feeling the rock that is hidden in Hogwarts is not a proper Philosopher's Stone. The uses and effects out lined in The Truth of Magic, are far more numerous and potent than whatever this paltry rock can do. Another thing, I think the Flamel's have gotten away with fooling the wizarding world for the last 6 centuries. I'll find out when I find out, but I really want to know their endgame.

*Knock*

*Knock knock*

*Knock*

*Knock knock knock*

I unlock and open the door, "morning sunshine, Lord Murphy." Hermione entered clearly disgruntled at being woken up before 11 am on a Sunday. Following her was the epitome of grace and guile, Lord Murphy.

'I am not saying anything bad about him, even in my thoughts. The times I wished Murphy was on my side, my wishes have finally come true, not going to screw that up.'

Once we were settled in, I took the espressos and pastries out of my INVENTORY. Door locked and compulsion charms cast, we got down to planning.

*Later that evening*

We came to a stop in Hogsmeade, there was light rain. Hagrid called the first years over. 30 minutes later we were in the foyer waiting for the sorting ceremony. We came up from the lake, through what looked like dungeons. The rain had gotten heavier the closer we got to Hogwarts. The best thing about today was probably the sight of Hogwarts in the rain. It was well lit with torches and magical lights, the light rain made it look like the castle was bathed in flames. That was a memory that I was going to cherish for the rest of my existence.

I was leaning against the stone bannister on the stairs to the foyer, Hermione leaning beside me and Lord Murphy napping on the bannister. I had dried myself off, Hermione took care of herself and Lord Murphy. Moros was more than likely in his carrier. He doesn't like it, but it is necessary. Don't want him eating some smaller pets. Also I've taught him to replay memories of interesting events that happened. It has backfired, what is interesting to an oversized chick - food mostly - is not really of concern to me. Sometimes I get interesting gossip, but that's about it. Due to Moros' young age it is hard to train him to do certain tasks. But if I start now, it'll be easier when we're both a bit older.

[A/N I'm not pissing of Lord Murphy, even in a fanfiction.]

Anyway, it was at this point in time that some pompous twit, decided it would be a good idea to make a scene.

"Harry Potter, how does it feel to ruin hundreds of lives?" Ferret face proclaimed smugly.

"Pale blond hair, no manners and the face of a ferret, Heir Malfoy, can't say it's a pleasure to meet you, again." That got a few snickers out of the audience, while turning the ferret red-faced.

Malfoy stormed off. He knew any action taken after addressing him as Heir Malfoy, would bring House Malfoy into the mix, and they weren't doing so well after Lord Black had recalled the debts. Most families that supported Voldemort, couldn't so much as step a toe out of line. Most if not all Grey faction houses had wholesale recalled their debts. Those who had lost family to Moldyshorts and his clowns, were quite harsh. Some families simply left Britain, they had nothing left, they'd start over somewhere else.

If I let them that is, I have their names, that's all I really need. I don't forgive, and I sure as hell don't forget.

The Malfoys are near the top of the list. The sheep-shaggers will get what's coming to them. Both the British and French lines. I'm nothing if not thorough. Hermione doesn't really care, but honestly thinks it's pointless. I kind of agree, but what am I supposed to do for our time on this world?

7 years of magical education, all at Hogwarts or jump around to different schools, I haven't decided yet. Get in touch with Nicholas Flamel, I need a Philosopher's stone, I can get a step-by-step guide from the SHOP but there are little things a master Alchemist knows, tips and tricks they've picked up over their career. When your career is about 600 years long, you've forgotten more than some people will know.

Next up on the list is learning the Dark arts properly. None of this wishy-washy self-taught shit. That's how you get ants, do you want ants? Practicing more complicated, and higher tier Dark magic should be done with a mentor or guide. The only problem is getting someone willing to teach you at that level. Gabriella is only teaching me to a foundational level of competency. Anything more and the contract will need to be renegotiated. This can take place over the summer and winter breaks, so after Hogwarts, I'll again have to reconsider.

So the education will take up at least 7 years, or possibly more if things line up. What am I supposed to do for the other 200 or so years I'll be on this world? Besides be rich and anonymous. Maybe find inheritances of famous magical figures. Pursue the deeper mysteries of magic, We'll burn that bride when we get to it. I say we because Hermione will also play a factor in my decision making.

Lost in my thoughts, I was startled when a middle aged witch cleared her throat. A slightly younger Maggie Smith looking witch was standing on to of the stairs in front of the door to the Main Hall. She went on and on about the silly house and house points.

Well, let's see if I can influence the talking hat. I dare you to put me in Slytherin. Pain, you'll finally know what the word means.