The Battle of Death Mountain: Staging

[Harry Dresden]

Harry knelt down examined the scale model of the mountain, constructed via the being's telekinesis alone, with more than a little academic interest, though he did keep his distance. The thought that anything had that much minute control was astounding, and without any form of incantation, the sheer number of variables that must be going on behind the scenes was just astounding. This, of course, assuming that there wasn't some kind of shortcut going on, but even so, that would be impressive in and of itself. The wizard wasn't rude enough to try poking the delicately-controlled model with a stick, seeing as he was trying to be helpful today, as opposed to antagonizing the strange being beyond mortal kenning, as was the habit when he encountered such things in Chicago.

The approach of another man commanded Harry's attention, and the wizard drew himself up from his position on the ground, resting his staff against his shoulder to give a brief wave as Nealaphh introduced his "second", a man by the name of Tom Riddle. Wait, what?

The shadowy being continued on with the briefing, and Harry filed the name away for a return to the forefront of the conversation later. He didn't particularly envy Alpha Squad's job, and he'd probably be a detriment to Beta squad. Despite the lack of sarcastic inflection, Harry couldn't help but feel he was being mocked a little with the entity's mental query. "Looks like it'll work. I'd be a handicap to Beta, but other than that, I'll do what needs to be done. Probably best in Gamma. I've invented a couple new spells since we last met. Ice magic, good for crowds." 

Turning slightly to face what Harry was beginning to suspect was another wizard, or at the very least a practitioner of some sort, he made sure not to maintain eye contact, the better to avoid accidental soulgazing. It hadn't happened yet, but when you introduced more magic users into the mix, things got complicated quickly. "I know I really shouldn't be surprised by anything anymore, but really? Tom Riddle? As in, Hogwarts?" With a little more sense than to directly call out Lord freaking Voldemort, at least before a major operation like this one, he tried a more indirect question than "I don't suppose you're from before you murdered that girl in the bathroom and split your soul apart." Namely, "Didn't you win some kind of award? Special services to the school or something like that?" 

Despite the laws of dramatic tension pointing directly to the contrary, Harry was hoping that this was the Tom Riddle that hadn't yet actually killed anyone, if only because he really did not feel like dealing with Lord Voldemort today, tomorrow, or any day in the near future.

He was already the butt of literally every "You're a wizard, Harry" joke cracked by the Chicago P.D.'s Special Investigations Unit.