Vincent knew the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, lived in the neighbouring street. But beyond sneaking over for a look on the day he first moved in — purely for the novelty of it — he had never once actually approached the boy.
He was about to say so, but a sudden thought stopped him. He asked instead, "What's happened, Professor?"
Dumbledore sighed. "The boy had a falling-out with his cousin a few days ago. His textbooks and his robes were all burned. I only heard about it today, from Mrs. Figg."
Vincent scratched the back of his head, doing his best to look puzzled. "And… you're saying?"
"I need someone to take Harry on another trip to Diagon Alley. I had intended to ask Hagrid, but he's been up for two or three days straight, helping a pregnant unicorn in the Forbidden Forest deliver her foal."
"I know Harry has been spending time with you this past week and trusts you considerably, so I thought I'd ask — would you have the time to take him?"
There it is.
That woman. She really didn't breathe a word of the truth to me.
You've been busy, haven't you? Without a sound, you managed to become close with the main character of this world.
Vincent grumbled inwardly but kept his smile steady. "Of course. No problem at all."
"That's a relief."
Dumbledore rubbed his temple and exhaled. "If you hadn't been available, I'd have had to ask Severus — and I know perfectly well what a terrible idea that would be."
Oh.
I should have said I wasn't free.
Snape taking Harry on a shopping trip to Diagon Alley? Now that would have been something worth watching.
"Professor Snape would be quite wounded to hear you say that."
Dumbledore blinked, entirely unabashed. "I'm only telling the truth. Now then — I'll leave Harry in your hands tomorrow. Good night."
"Good night, Professor."
Without a sound or a ripple, Dumbledore Disapparated — and the effortlessness of it left Vincent momentarily stunned. The number of wizards in the entire world who could use Apparition with that kind of precision could be counted on one hand. At that level, it wasn't merely a method of getting from one place to another — it could be used seamlessly in combat, threading through tight spaces in the blink of an eye.
He was still turning this over as he wandered back to his bedroom. He had barely lain down when he sat bolt upright. "Wait — take Harry to Diagon Alley. Tomorrow?"
But tomorrow was the day Bernadette was swapping over.
She'd never been to Diagon Alley. How was she supposed to guide Harry through a shopping trip?
"Oh, for the love of—!"
Vincent grabbed two fistfuls of his own hair in pure frustration. This woman is going to be the death of me.
Right. He needed to throw together an emergency Diagon Alley guide for her. Immediately.
Merlin save her.
Actually — even if Merlin himself came back to life, he probably wouldn't have the power to save that woman.
The third swap was no different from the first two. Consciousness blurred, the scene shifted in an instant, and Bernadette found herself in the other world again — inhabiting that man's body.
Same house. Nothing changed. Except this time the television wasn't playing any pre-recorded messages — instead, a neat row of videotapes was stacked on the coffee table in front of her.
She sat quietly for a moment, taking stock. Then she murmured to herself: "At the instant of the swap, the stream of soul-information carried by the Sages' Diadem is forcibly merged back. So it really isn't as simple as I hoped."
Bernadette wasn't discouraged. It had only been a test, after all.
She glanced down — and saw several large characters written in red ink on a piece of paper:
"WHAT IS GOING ON WITH HARRY POTTER?!!"
"!!!"
Bernadette stared.
How does he know about Harry?
Did that boy come looking for me while I was gone?
Didn't I tell him to stop coming round?
She felt, bizarrely, like a child caught in the middle of something they shouldn't have been doing.
She shook herself.
What do I have to feel guilty about? She'd only helped a poor child, and let him teach her English in return. Compared to what he had been doing with her body — going around swindling young girls, then joining a group run by an evil god — her behaviour was positively saintly.
She raised an eyebrow. Have I been too polite? Is that why you've been getting cheeky with me?
Once she read the rest of the note, she understood the full picture. She gave a quiet snort. "He's asking me to take a child shopping. It's Diagon Alley — a proper wizarding commercial district, according to him. What exactly is there to worry about?"
Muttering this, she began working through Vincent's videos in order. They covered three broad areas:
The first addressed the magic-learning she had requested. Vincent demonstrated more than twenty common spells in careful detail — breaking down every movement, every inflection, every wand motion — and then produced several textbooks, telling her that for more advanced magic, she could work through them independently.
"…The essence of magic is emotional and mental force. Incantations, wands, and casting motions all exist to make channelling that force more convenient. A truly powerful Fool or wizard can cast without a wand or a spoken word. But in most circumstances, using a wand produces greater power and precision — think of the wand as a kind of amplifier for magic."
"The wand I've set to your right was prepared specifically for you. It may not be the perfect match, but it'll more than do for practice."
The second section concerned the fact that she would need to go to Hogwarts School of Foolcraft and Wizardry in six days' time, standing in for Vincent as the Muggle Studies professor. The emphasis here was on wizarding attitudes toward the Muggle world.
Bernadette's brow furrowed repeatedly. Why would the wizarding community choose to seal itself off like this? Why be so ignorant of ordinary people?
In her world, Beyonders were the true rulers, holding the reins of power. It was a different calculus entirely.
Then came a segment demonstrating modern Muggle weapons: missiles, aircraft carriers, fighter jets, nuclear weapons… Bernadette would later admit, without reservation, that when she saw the detonation of a nuclear device, she was genuinely shaken.
In terms of raw destructive force, even Angels from many Pathways might not measure up. And this terrifying weapon was in the hands of ordinary people. So this was the power of science and technology.
The third section offered a more detailed breakdown of the various Hogwarts professors — their personalities, habits, interests, and their relationship with "himself" — with particular focus on how each saw him.
"…Of course, aside from Professor Dumbledore, most of the faculty's impression of me is nearly a decade out of date. Back then I was reserved, quiet — what you might call a wallflower. Oh, and 'wallflower' means someone who blends into the background and goes largely unnoticed…"
"…As for Professor Snape — pay close attention to him. He was my Head of House when I was at school. To be honest, the man's character and temperament leave much to be desired. But he does treat Slytherin students reasonably well…"
The morning passed entirely in front of the television. When the last tape finally reached its end, Vincent on-screen reached over to stop the recording — then seemed to remember something. "Oh, I nearly forgot to show you how to charge the battery again. It's actually very simple — just take the battery out from here and put it in here."
"Anyway — that's the general situation. I hope you have a pleasant week."
Bernadette leaned back, rolled her stiff neck, and said to no one in particular, "With all these books to get through, pleasant seems rather optimistic."
As a Beyonder of the Mystery Pryer Pathway, she generally did enjoy the process of acquiring knowledge — just not having enormous quantities of it crammed into her head in a short span of time.
Still — the thought of how many books he would be facing on the other side gave her considerable comfort.
Right then. Come at me. We'll suffer together.
To be continued…