MIT: Magic Incorporating Technology

A/N: So, instead of NaNo, I\'ve decided to devote the rest of the month/year to finishing off as many of my WIPs as possible. Which means another chapter for you. Yay!







Chapter Fourteen: Getting Medicated



Harry lay back on his bed, musing. He was currently thinking about the word \'muse\', and wondering how and when it had gone from a noun to a verb.



In other words, he was bored.



Without Ash around to distract him, he was already far ahead in all of his classes, and he\'d returned to his unsocial habits. He sometimes went down to the local pub to be around people, but it usually just made him feel worse. And after the first time he got drunk and started seeing the other patrons as Death Eaters, he made sure not to drink heavily. He really didn\'t want to get a reputation for waving a stick and shouting in Latin when drunk - that could lead to all sorts of problems.



So instead, he lay on his bed and wondered what Ash as doing, and if the Redneck missed him too.



MIT



Somewhere in Nebraska, Ash was lying face-down on a pool table. He\'d gotten roaring drunk last night, and gotten into a fist-fight with a couple of Hunters. He still wasn\'t sure what it was over, or who had won. All he was sure of was that he wished Kreacher could appear with some of his magical hangover cure.



After a while, a scratching sound invaded his head. Soon it was revealed as someone piking the lock to the Roadhouse. Ash mentally groaned and closed his eyes again. Whoever it was could get stuffed.



Of course, they\'d probably get shot by Ellen or Jo, but at least that would be entertaining.



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MasterOfDeath: Wait, two hunters tried to break into the Roadhouse?

Redneck: yup

MasterOfDeath: What were they on?

MasterOfDeath: And where can I get some?

Redneck: Dunno. apparently they\'d never heard of Ellen before

Redneck: or the hunter grapevine

MasterOfDeath: Wow. How are they still alive?

Redneck: pure dumb luck, I think

MasterOfDeath: Heh. Sounds familiar.

Redneck: yeah. I like them too

MasterOfDeath: You would. So you\'re helping them out?

Redneck: beats getting drunk every night missing you

MasterOfDeath: Awww...

Redneck: shut up. I\'m allowed to miss my hot ASSistant

MasterOfDeath: Only you could take a sentimental statement like that and make it dirty.

Redneck: its a skill

MasterOfDeath: It sure is.

Redneck: well, Ellens hollerin for me. Ill talk to you tomorrow

MasterOfDeath: Your typing has developed an accent again. ;P

MasterOfDeath: Of course. Love you, Ash.

Redneck: love you too, Harry



Harry turned off his computer, feeling a little better. He\'d been having little to no success with the Lycanthropy cure, so the distraction from Ash had been very welcome.



He sighed as he gathered his things to head toward the library again - there were some useful books on infectious disease that he wanted to look at again.



Part way there, Harry\'s phone buzzed in his pocket. Fishing it out, he saw that he had a new text message.



\'Found new specimen outskirts Boston. Interested? Jordan.\'



A grin fought its way onto Harry\'s face as he quickly sent an affirmative reply. The day was definitely looking up.



MIT



"Hmm, that\'s odd," Harry muttered to himself as he looked at his analysis of the Lycanthropy disease\'s genes. The werewolf Jordan had found had been very willing to work with him to find a cure, and was happy to give Harry all the samples he wanted. "The two strains of Lycanthropy are almost identical. There\'s only the tiniest difference by the end result is so..."



He scribbled away at his notebook for a while, before flicking through his books again. Somehow, he\'d gotten into the habit of talking to himself as he worked, in an effort to try and keep track of his thoughts.



"Actually, simplified like this, it almost looks like a type of cancer. And I think I can see why the Wolfsbane doesn\'t work properly..."



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It was a few months later, and Harry was nervously chewing on a sandwich. He wasn\'t hungry, but Kreacher had glared him into submission - apparently he hadn\'t been eating enough to satisfy the elf.



Tonight was the night he\'d see if the modifications he\'d made to the Wolfsbane potion were enough to keep an American Werewolf from changing. Jordan had insisted that Harry stay at MIT during the trial, in case it didn\'t work. He\'d sad that they couldn\'t risk Harry getting injured, infected, or worse, killed. Harry had thought it best not to point out that he was technically immortal.



As night fell, Harry started pacing in his room. He hated having to stand around doing nothing, worrying about whether or not something was going to work. But this time he\'d had no choice in the matter.



Suddenly the phone rang, and Harry leaped to his desk where he had left it.



"Jordan? Did it work?" He blurted out as soon as he\'d hit \'answer\'.



"Well, sorta..." Jordan sounded amused, though whether at Harry\'s nerves or something happening his end was hard to tell. "The boy\'s changed, but he\'s not vicious. Seems he\'s kept his own mind in the monster\'s body."



"So..." Harry\'s mind raced as he considered. "So it\'s doing the same as the original potion..." He nodded forcefully. "Well, it\'s a start."



"Harry, it\'s more than a start," Jordan sounded incredulous. "Already it means that we don\'t have to kill werewolves. We just need to find them and make sure that they have access to the medication."



"It\'s not enough," Harry said, already thinking of ways to further improve it. "It won\'t be enough until there\'s a permanent cure."



MIT



"So how do you think you\'ll manage that?"



"Not sure, Moony," Harry grinned at his inspiration. "But I\'m gonna find a way."



"I know you will, Cub."