Sunlight glinted off the gleaming exterior of the Hogwarts Express. Students chatted and made their way on the train for the holidays. Harry watched on as Fred and George surreptitiously flicked their wands at Dean Thomas' shoes, tying his laces together as he was talking to Seamus. Other students were saying goodbye to their friends, wishing them happy holidays and promising to send their gifts in time for Christmas morning. The platform was a crowded, cheerful, mess.
Ron and Hermione were beside Harry. They were as quiet as he was. Harry knew that they were feeling guilty about leaving him for the holidays, especially with Sirius Black marauding the countryside.
"We'll write you," Ron promised, trying his best to smile.
"I feel awful about leaving you here by yourself," Hermione said.
"I'm not by myself," Harry said. "Plenty of other people are staying too. It'll just be quieter without you two bickering all the time."
That got a genuine grin out of Ron, before he said, "You know I'd stay or bring you back to the Burrow, but we haven't seen Charlie in ages and he pulled a lot of strings getting us an international portkey. We can't just cancel on that."
"And I tried to convince my parents to let me stay but they insisted I come home to see there for the holiday," Hermione said.
"Honestly, it's not a big deal you two. I'll be fine," Harry said, turning to look at Hermione.
She flung her arms around him, squeezing tighter than Harry would have liked. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid," she whispered. "Sirius Black is dangerous."
"Me, do something stupid? Never." Hermione let go of him and looked disapproving. He got a short laugh out of Ron.
"Harry'll be fine," Ron said. "He slew a bloody basilisk with a sword last year. I doubt Black will be able to do much worse. Besides, there are dementors everywhere around the school. He isn't getting in without anybody noticing. Even You-Know-Who was afraid of Dumbledore. Harry's probably safer at Hogwarts than he is anywhere else."
Hermione remained unconvinced by Ron. "I suppose," she finally said. She gave him one last lingering glance, as if to try to convey by force of expression that he had better be careful, and then she picked up her carry-on luggage and said, "Have a good holiday, Harry. We'll write you."
"Later mate," Ron said.
They boarded the Hogwarts Express. The platform had emptied, most of the students having gotten on the train. The only people left were students who were, like him, staying at Hogwarts for the holiday, waving goodbye to their friends. Harry didn't know many of the students left on the platform. There was a tall Hufflepuff with immaculate hair who seemed to be waving goodbye to everyone on the train. Harry recognized him as Cedric Diggory, having played against the other seeker in a few quidditch matches.
The train grinded away from the platform, not picking up speed until it was already too far away to make out individual faces. Hermione and Ron had waved until they were nothing but indistinct figures in the distance.
With his friends gone Harry wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. He was the only Gryffindor in his year that was staying. Quidditch, chess, exploding snap; none were games that he could play by himself. Somewhat sullen, Harry started trekking back up to Hogwarts. The weather had turned for the worse and the cold was sharp. Harry pulled his cloak more tightly around his body. A few other students were on the path with him, but none within fifty yards. They were all walking alone as well. Harry wondered why they were staying at Hogwarts. As much as he loved Hogwarts he knew that if he had been able to go to the Burrow with Ron he would've without hesitation.
Nearing the school, Harry decided to see if Professor Lupin was around. If he wasn't able to do anything fun he might as well be doing something productive. Harry had all but demanded that Professor Lupin teach him the Patronus Charm and the man had agreed, but put Harry off until the holidays began. Well, Harry thought, technically the holidays had begun.
A goal in mind, Harry weaved his way through the empty passages hallways of Hogwarts. When school was in session there was an almost palpable sense of magic, an intersection of youth and excitability with the mysteries of magic that had caused Harry to fall in love with the school in the first place. But when Hogwarts emptied out for the holidays it lost some of its charm. The stateliness was still there, grandeur in every antique suit of armor and famous portrait, but it was colder. Students breathed life into the school and they took some its vitality with them when they left.
It didn't escape Harry's notice that when there were fewer students at school the staircases moved less frequently, trick doors became less common, and constantly rearranging rooms became more static. It was as if the castle was trying to impress its inhabitants and when it lost most of its audience its efforts become more desultory.
The door to Lupin's office was open and he was inside. He looked to be deep in thought, several books that Harry didn't recognize placed carefully open on his desk. His back was to Harry and he was hunched over top the books so Harry knocked twice on the frame of the door.
Whirling around, as if he had been caught doing something he should have been doing in private, Lupin saw Harry. He composed himself quickly, shutting the books that were on his desk and waving his wand at them, floating them from his desk into a trunk that they piled neatly into and which snapped shut after they were inside.
"Come in, Harry," Lupin said. Harry decided not to ask what the professor had been doing and came inside, taking a seat at the chair Lupin gestured toward. Lupin took a seat behind his desk, looking expectantly at Harry.
"What can I help you with?"
"I'd like to start learning the Patronus Charm now, professor," Harry said.
"I had expected this visit soon enough, though I must confess I'm surprised you're here so soon," he said. "Normally students like to relax the first few days of their breaks. Or all of them. I know I did."
Harry didn't mention Ron or Hermione's absence. Instead he said, "I think the sooner I'm able to cast this spell the better. I don't want what happened at the quidditch match to happen again."
Lupin looked troubled. "No, you're right. The dementors affect you strongly enough that their presence at Hogwarts is an unacceptable risk. The match against Hufflepuff showed that. Alright then, we'll begin now then. I must warn you Harry, the Patronus Charm is powerful magic. There are many adult witches and wizards who are never able to learn it. It involves several different, equally difficult, areas of magic. I would suggest that you not expect to be able to produce a corporeal patronus any time soon."
"Corporeal patronus, sir?"
Lupin got up and walked over to his bookshelf. He knew exactly where the book he was looking for was, pulling it off the shelf and glancing at it briefly.
"A corporeal patronus is the Patronus Charm given form. It is what will happen when you've mastered the spell. The corporeal patronus takes on the form of an animal and protects you from the dementors, driving them away. For your purposes an incorporeal patronus, the charm operating as a shield, should me sufficient. After we're done here today I want you to read this," he said, handing the book to Harry. It was titled The Patronus Charm as a Manifold of Positive Sensibility. Harry almost groaned out loud.
"It isn't light reading," Lupin said. "However, a grasp of the theory behind a spell will always enable you to more adequately perform the spell. With something as difficult as the Patronus Charm, and as inexperienced as you are, the theory is an absolute necessity."
Harry skimmed one section, about halfway through the book, and winced. It was just words thrown together meaninglessly as far as he could tell. The book's only saving grace was that it couldn't have been more than a hundred pages.
Anticipating his reaction, Lupin said, "It makes sense if you start from the beginning. There are a number of terms the author uses that get defined earlier and used often throughout the book. That's usually true with the more theoretical texts. Pay close attention and you won't have any trouble."
"Thank you," Harry said.
Lupin nodded. "Now, shall we begin?" Harry stood up and Lupin positioned him in front of a shaking cabinet at the back of his office. "I kept the boggart we used in class here on the off chance I might need to use it again. Using a real dementor is, of course, inadvisable, but you do need something to practice on. I will open the cabinet doors and you will attempt to perform the Patronus Charm. I'll show you how it's done."
He demonstrated the Patronus Charm, a well-defined wolf coalescing from energy as hazy as smoke. The creature looked solid and Harry was sure that if he touched it he would be able to feel the wolf's fur bristling fur. It passed by him and Harry ran a finger out, but it went through the patronus, not seeming to affect it in any way.
"It's beautiful," Harry said wistfully. "How do you know what form your patronus will take."
"Nobody can say for sure," Lupin said. Harry thought he looked a little uneasy. He supposed that having a wolf for a patronus made Lupin think people felt uncomfortable around him. "It seems to be related to personality characteristics though. Are you ready to begin?"
Harry drew his wand, readying himself mentally from the horror he knew lurked inside the cabinet. The boggart may have been formless when unseen, but when it came out it was indistinguishable from any other dementor. He reminded himself that boggarts couldn't hurt anyone. They were pests, not menaces.
"Remember what I told you in our last meeting. You need a happy memory, the happiest memory you can think of. Only that will enable you to perform the Patronus Charm."
With that he whipped his wand at the cabinet and the doors exploded open, the dementor, boggart, Harry reminded himself, prowling footlessly across the open office floor. A suffocating blackness seemed to be descending on Harry. He felt oppressed, joys he never knew he had being slowly sucked away. It wasn't as overpowering as it would have been in the presence of a real dementor, but the effects were there regardless.
"Expecto Patronum," Harry muttered. He knew, even before he cast the spell, that the memory wasn't there. He had been trying to think of the first time he flew, the feeling of weightlessness, speed, and grace; but that was gone. There was a gaping void, not so much the presence of misery as the absence of happiness.
Not even a flicker came out of his wand. The dementor was closer, the struggle to feel something even more intolerable. Harry's vision started to speckle black and the pressure in his head that he associated with passing out built.
"Expecto Patronum!" He tried again, this time hoping that force would prevail where the intricacy of the spell itself had not. A wisp of something, the spell perhaps, fluttered from his wand and fell to the ground, stillborn. He could hear a women screaming and it cut him inside.
Real despair, not the kind the dementor produced, filled Harry. The dementor was too close, he saw. He didn't have time for another spell.
There was the vague sound of a spell being cast and Lupin hovered in front of his vision.
He didn't pass out. Harry found himself prostrate, shaking, and feeling nauseous, but he was still awake. Lupin was looking at him with concern. He had a bar of chocolate in his hands.
"I was hoping that the effect the boggart would have on you would not be quite that severe. I'm afraid this process will be quite unpleasant, at least until you can create some measure of protection against dementors."
Pushing himself to his feet Harry took the proffered chocolate bar. He unwrapped it but didn't eat. "I thought, when I cast the spell a second time, that I saw something. A flicker."
"You saw magic but you didn't see the Patronus Charm," Lupin said. "Without the memory the Patronus Charm is pure magic. It provides no defense against dementors. You have to learn to produce both at the same time. That flicker showed that you have a grasp of one aspect of the spell, the raw magic side of things, but you still have to find a memory strong enough."
Seeing the trouble Harry was having standing, Lupin said, "I think that will be all for today. You have an idea what to expect. Start reading the book and we can try again soon."
"When, sir?" Harry asked. He knew that he was risking sounding rude but every time he came up against a dementor he was exposed, and all he had accomplished was dust to those creatures. He was defenseless, something he hadn't felt since he was a child, and he hated it.
"Start working on the book tonight. You can come back here tomorrow, after dinner, and we will try again. Eat," he said, miming taking a bite out of the chocolate bar.
Harry did so, but the chocolate was tasteless in his mouth. His mind turned to Sirius Black as he ate. He thought about the danger Black posed. Every year there had been something, and every year Hermione said that nothing would happen to him, that he was safe as long as he listened to Dumbledore and the professors. Harry wasn't sure he believed that any longer. Dumbledore was powerful, true, but he wasn't omniscient. He could be fooled, like any other man. If Harry was to make sure that Sirius Black wasn't a threat to him it would be because Harry kept himself safe, not because Dumbledore did. Harry took another bite of the chocolate.
"Professor," he started. "Dementors aren't the only threat."
Lupin gestured for Harry to go on. He was staring at him, more intent on what Harry had to say than he had expected.
"Sirius Black. Mr. Weasley told me…well, he said that he was Voldemort's right hand man. That he was dangerous and that he might try to kill me, for revenge."
Slowly, as if it took great effort to do so, Lupin nodded. A stormy expression, indecipherable to Harry, passed over his face. "All true," he said, his voice low.
"Well, I was thinking that, since we're already working on the Patronus Charm, we could work on other spells too. Spells that might help protect me from Black."
"Harry, I don't mean to frighten you, but if you come up against Black you're not likely to survive the encounter, no matter how many spells you know. He fought in the war, and he was dangerous. One of the most dangerous duelists there was. I say that so that you'll stay safe, because if you are exposed and Black finds you there's little you could do to stop him." The words coming out of Lupin's mouth seemed to pain him. Harry didn't stop to wonder why that might be.
"But anything could help, even if it just makes me feel safer. Even Dumbledore had to start somewhere. If I want to protect myself I need to learn how. My first year here my Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher tried to kill me. My second year here a basilisk was unleashed on the school and I had to kill it with a sword. This year it's Black. There's no point in trying to pretend that I'm safe, that nothing bad can ever happen to me at Hogwarts. Even if it doesn't help me against Black, learning to defend myself can only be a good thing."
Harry looked to Lupin, trying to see if his words had had the desired effect. He hadn't put his thoughts into order like that before, but when he was saying them it all seemed to make sense. Hermione was the one who relied on teachers, on others, to keep her safe. Harry knew that the only way to make sure you were safe was to become strong enough that nobody else could hurt you.
"I'm sorry to hear that you feel that way; that you feel we aren't able to keep you safe." Harry began to try to interrupt but Lupin held up a hand. "However, much as it upsets me to hear you speak like that it doesn't mean that you're not right. Black is a threat and you're not always with teachers. We don't know how long he'll be on the loose. He's clever. Training you now, in preparation for the future, is a good idea."
Here Lupin paused again, as if deciding what to say. Harry felt excitement again. He had purpose now, something to spend his time working on. The holidays, which had seemed so long and lonely before, now seemed filled with potential.
"When you come back tomorrow I'll have some ideas for what to teach you," Lupin said. "And some books that you'll need to read. I know that you're not as much of a reader as your friend, Hermione, but some things can't be escaped and theory is essential for higher level magic. Natural aptitude can only take even the best wizards so far." Lupin gazed off for a moment, seeming to remember something. He smiled slightly, as if recalling a fond memory. Then he snapped back to Harry. "I hope that's acceptable for you," he said.
"It sounds brilliant, sir. Thank you."
Lupin dismissed him with a reminder to finish the chocolate bar and begin reading the book. Harry left his office feeling elated.
Harry still had half an hour before he was supposed to be at Lupin's office but he had been bored all day and decided to go early, to see if Lupin was there. He had spent most of his time since the day before reading through the book Lupin had given him. It was the most complicated book he had ever read in his life, discussing things like the synthetic unity of positive sensibility in relation to the imagination. A lot of it went over his head, and the little he understood was of questionable applicability.
From what he could puzzle out the Patronus Charm wasn't just a single happy memory given form. It was the most fundamental feeling of that memory, broken down and magnified, then used as a weapon against the dementors, to drive them away. There was nothing about what type of memory had to be used, it merely had to arouse powerful happiness in Harry. He had laid in bed for an hour, searching his memory, trying to decide what would work best as a shield for the dementor. He was surprised by how much difficulty he was having. Harry had thought that the happiest memory of his life (which was undoubtedly what would work best for him) would be something that he would have had no trouble coming up with. Instead, it had taken him all night to think of.
He had figured it out though. He was confident that with the beginning of the grounding in theory and his memory he would be able to at least produce something resembling the patronus charm. Harry also hoped that Lupin would have started thinking of spells to teach him. After finishing reading Lupin's short book on the Patronus Charm Harry had flipped through his Standard Book of Spells and found almost nothing related to defensive magic. Either it would be taught to them when they were older or Hogwarts didn't emphasize the defensive part of Defense Against the Dark Arts.
As he neared Lupin's office he could hear voices from within. He decided to wait outside, not wanting to interrupt. He couldn't help but listen in, recognizing McGonagall's voice. She was talking to Lupin.
"I'm not saying that you shouldn't teach the boy. I'm saying that you should be careful what you teach him. He's a Gryffindor, and as much as that means he's brave and caring, it also means that he's headstrong and proud. Having him become a danger to himself or his peers is the last thing we want."
Harry bristled at her mistrust but listened on. Lupin didn't sound as if he agreed with McGonagall either. "If he isn't a threat to his peers then he's no threat to Black. That's the entire point of this. We can't have things both ways."
"And what if you train the boy and he should learn the truth. What if he thinks that he's capable of fighting Sirius Black and he learns that Black is the one who betrayed his parents to You-Know-Who? He'll go looking for him. He'll hunt Black down. By trying to protect him you're only making it more likely that he'll put himself in danger."
Harry had known anger before. He had raged at Dudley, at Vernon and Petunia, at everyone who had treated him like a pariah when they thought he was the Heir of Slytherin. But that was different from what he was feeling then. His was an unfocused, gradually building rage, as if McGonagall's words didn't sink in all at once but had to be digested. Black was the traitor. Black betrayed his parents. Black was the reason they were dead. Black was the reason he had no family.
The training took on a more essential quality in his head. Before it had been like every other year at Hogwarts. There was something going on and he had to protect himself from it. But this was different, more personal. Black had taken his chance at having a family, as good as killed his mother and father. Voldemort was just a phantom, an insubstantial threat still spoken of in hushed tones. Black was flesh and blood; he could be destroyed. And in that moment there was nothing that Harry wanted more than to be the one to destroy him.
McGonagall and Lupin had kept talking but Harry had heard none of what was said. He was walking away from Lupin's office, making sure that his footsteps weren't loud enough that they would hear him. Harry waited in a side passage until it was nearly time for his lesson with Lupin.
There was no chance that he would be able to produce a patronus, he knew that, but he also knew that it would be suspicious if he didn't show up. He decided to go, do his best on the patronus, and then pump Lupin for any help he could give on defensive magic.
McGonagall was gone when Harry went back to Lupin's office. Lupin was standing alone, deep in thought, leaning against his desk. He looked up when Harry entered and gave him a faint smile.
"Were you able to get anywhere in the book I gave you?"
"I finished it. I'm not sure how much of it I understood though," Harry said.
"Any time I spent going over the theory with you would just be time spent not working on the charm itself. I suggest that if things are still unclear that you read it again. A great magical theorist once said that there is no reading, only rereading. Do you have a memory in mind?"
"I think so. It should be better than my last one."
"Excellent. If you're ready we can begin." Lupin gave Harry a doubtful look. Harry knew that he probably wasn't looking altogether eager to begin. He didn't feel as if he had the energy to practice the patronus. It wasn't in him after learning the truth.
He nodded anyway. Lupin took up his usual position and, with the same flick of his wand, the doors to the boggart's cabinet surged open.
It was worse than it had been last time. The dementor didn't have to close the space between it and Harry for Harry to start feeling the despair. It was more crushing than it had been last time. There was a cacophony of voices in his head. A woman screaming, his mother screaming. McGonagall saying that it was Black. Black is the traitor. Black is the traitor was the refrain echoing around his head.
"Expecto Patronum." He didn't expect the spell to work and it didn't. As the dementor closed the distance between them the screams got louder, the refrain more insistent.
It was almost a relief when Harry felt the darkness coming on; he saw it at the edges of his vision. Unlike last time he didn't try to fight it. He embraced it as an escape from the terribleness of the present. His last thought before he lost consciousness was that he hoped Lupin wouldn't make him try again.
When he awoke Lupin was standing over him, wand in one hand and chocolate in the other, looking concerned.
"It didn't have such a strong effect on you last time," he said.
"I know. I'm not sure what happened. It was…worse than it was before. Stronger. I could hear the screaming right away."
Harry chewed on the chocolate bar Lupin handed him. It did make him feel better, and he was hoping that Lupin wouldn't make him try again. He knew a second attempt would be no better than the first.
"I doubt that trying again tonight would be any use," Lupin said. "We might as well move on to the other magic you asked me to teach you." Inwardly, Harry rejoiced. "I gave a lot of thought to what I should teach you and came up with a list of spells that all competent duelists know. I'll teach you those first, and if you're still not satisfied we can move on to the more complicated spells."
On Lupin's desk was a short piece of parchment with Lupin's looping scrawl on it, and a pile of books underneath that. Lupin went over and picked them off. He read the titles out loud. "Extreme Incantations, Self-Defensive Spellwork, Counter-Curse Handbook,and Confronting the Faceless. The spells written on this list can be found in one or more of these books. You will read the theory behind two spells for each meeting and we'll practice them before moving on to the Patronus Charm."
He handed the spell list to Harry. He recognized only a few of the spells; the Reductor Curse and the Hurling Hex, but there were many others he didn't; the Conjunctivitis Curse, the Shield Charm, the Blasting Curse, and the Bombarding Charm. Harry had the sinking feeling that none of them were third year spells.
"These spells will be difficult for you to learn," Lupin said. "They're not usually taught until students are working on or finished their O.W.L.s, but if you're going to defend yourself these are necessities."
"I understand, professor."
"Good. We won't meet tomorrow. You need time to prepare for the boggart again and to start learning these spells. We'll begin with the Shield Charm and Hurling Hex. They're two basic, and useful, spells in every duelist's arsenal. Come back on Tuesday. That should give you time to read the theory and try the spells out."
Harry turned around to leave, hearing the dismissal in Lupin's words, when the professor called him back. "And Harry, if you ever want to talk about something, if something's bothering you outside of just school, you can talk to me."
"Thank you, professor, but I'm fine. Really." And as he left he felt Lupin's eyes on his back and knew that the man didn't believe him, that he suspected something. But Harry's head was too filled with elaborate fantasies of revenge to care. Black, he thought, glancing once more at the spell list. Sirius Black.
His next meeting with Lupin was scheduled for Tuesday, which gave Harry two days to prepare the Shield Charm and Hurling Hex. The latter was a simple matter. It was essentially a variation on the Knockback Jinx, a simple spell he had learned the year before. Even Lockhart hadn't been enough to prevent him from learning that spell. The difference lay in the power of the two spells. According to Self-Defensive Spellwork the Knockback Jinx was only sporadically able to knock an adult off their feet; it simply lacked the power to be more than a nuisance to another duelist. Its utility lay in its ability to deal with pests and some small magical creatures.
The Hurling Hex was a more powerful version of the spell. It caused serious damage on impact, with some duelists claiming that a well-executed casting of the spell could break bones on impact, to say nothing of the damage caused by whatever the spell would knock somebody into. It didn't take a vivid imagination to conceive of the flexible combat implications of the spell, both in an offensive sense, causing damage to the target, and defensive, allowing Harry to run if he came up against a stronger opponent.
Harry was confident that he would be able to perform the spell for Lupin when they got together again. He had practiced a few times in an unused classroom and the spell worked just fine.
It was the Shield Charm that was giving more trouble. In Counter-Curse Handbook the author said that it was a spell that was usually taught near the end of a magical education, owing to the difficulty in creating the initial shield, maintaining it, and holding it up under spellfire. Harry had managed only to create a wispy shield initially. It failed after a few seconds and he was unable to figure out why.
Harry couldn't help but feel lonely when he was working on the spells. Normally he would have Ron lazing about beside him, keeping up a commentary on how things were going and making the occasional halfhearted attempt himself. Hermione would have mastered the spell already, of course, and she would be explaining how to work it to Harry and trying to prod Ron into practicing. But alone Harry had nothing but the books themselves to teach and entertain him. So he redoubled his efforts and spent all of his time that he wasn't at meals or sleeping trying to get the spells to work. It was tedious, but better than dwelling on Black more than he already was.
One afternoon he was in the library, practicing the Shield Charm after looking for any helpful secondary literature on it, and was about to give up after his thirteenth attempt without a success. Harry growled, his frustration mounting, when a familiar figure dropped into a chair at the other end of his table. Momentarily surprised, Harry narrowed his eyes at Cedric Diggory. The library was usually empty during the holidays and Harry had picked a table in the most remote corner he could find, specifically so that he wouldn't be interrupted. It also helped to hide him from Ms. Pince. She didn't like people practicing spells in the library and that fact that it was the holidays didn't lessen her paranoia.
"Can I help you?" Harry asked. He was aware that he was being rude but he was frustrated with his failure to get the spell to work and he didn't particularly want to speak to Cedric, friendly as he knew the other boy to be.
"Just saw you working on the Shield Charm. Pretty impressive for a third year. I didn't get around to it before last year, my fifth," Cedric said.
"You can cast it?" Harry asked.
"Yeah. Looking for some help?"
"You'd help me with it? Why?" People of different years and houses didn't mix at Hogwarts. Upperclassmen typically didn't bother with pre O.W.L.s students.
"It's the holidays, all of my friends went home and I'm bored. Besides, you're Harry Potter, so this'll probably lead to something interesting." Cedric smiled to let Harry know that he was joking and Harry found himself smiling back. There was an easygoing charm about Cedric, as if he didn't have cares or worries and he tried to make you feel the same way. Harry admired that sort of easygoingness with people, a skill he conspicuously lacked.
"What problem are you having?" Cedric asked.
"I can make the shield, but I can't sustain it. It breaks down after a few seconds," Harry said.
"Show me," Cedric said.
He watched Harry attentively, focusing on his wand movements and pronunciation. The spell worked as well as it normally did; it wisped into existence for a few moments and then collapsed on itself. Harry sighed.
"You're not concentrating on maintaining the spell," Cedric said. "I had the same problem. You're visualizing the spell to create the shield and then maintaining the flow of magic, but you aren't visualizing while you maintain the flow. Without visualizing the shield while it's running it's just going to break down after a few seconds. Won't hold up to any spell."
"Why don't the books mention that then?" Harry asked.
"Because usually it isn't third years trying to learn the spell. Visualizing a spell that requires constant input is something you'll usually learn in charms or transfiguration your fifth year. It's a skill that's required for a lot of advanced magic. You don't need it for most spells. The books take it as a given that you've got grounding in the relevant theoretical areas. Try it again."
"Protego," Harry muttered, watching as the thin shield snapped into place. He focused on the shield itself, regulating the magic and keeping the shield in his mind at the same time. It wavered and almost flickered out a few times but Harry was able to keep it alive for almost a minute. He felt drained mentally when the shield finally disappeared.
"Much better," Cedric said, a satisfied smile on his face. "The shield'll get stronger and last longer the more you use it. I can keep mine up for as long as I need now." He said this without any hint of bragging.
"Can I see yours?" Harry asked.
Cedric laughed, pulling out his wand and casting the spell. An iron blue shield, much larger and more solid than Harry's popped into existence, its surface not shimmering or flickering in the slightest. It looked like it had a physical weight to it.
"Took me a while to get it this solid," Cedric said, talking and keeping the shield running without any visible effort.
"It's impressive," Harry said.
"So," Cedric said, after dropping the shield and returning to his seat. "What leads Harry Potter, third year wizard extraordinaire, to be practicing the Shield Charm on his own over the holidays?"
"You tell me why you're still at Hogwarts and I'll tell you why I'm practicing the Shield Charm," Harry said.
"After all the help I just gave you?"
Harry shrugged.
"Fine," Cedric said. "I'm still here because my dad's working overtime at the Ministry over the holidays and my mum's taking care of my aunt. I'd be spending most of the break on my own anyway if I went home. And I like Hogwarts, even when it is quiet. Sometimes peace and quiet is nice. Your turn."
"My friends went home and I figured I might as well try to do something productive with my break. Can't exactly play exploding snap or chess by myself." Cedric looked skeptical.
"So you're on your own and you just spontaneously decided to teach yourself the Shield Charm? I don't buy it. Is this about Black?"
Harry gaped, surprised by the quality of Cedric's guess.
Cedric saw his reaction and said, "It's not exactly hard to figure out. You've got a mass murderer on the loose who served the Dark Lord you happened to bring down. No prize for guessing what that means."
"Suppose it is fairly obvious," Harry said, abashedly.
"You think he's coming after you? Sirius Black?" Cedric asked.
"Yeah. I do," Harry said.
Cedric shook his head, clearly bothered by the idea. "Well that just won't do. We can't have a mass murderer coming after you with you not even knowing how to cast a decent Shield Charm. That's not fair at all. Practically a crime. I'm going to have to work on you. You're going to be my project for the rest of the break," Cedric said.
"Your project?"
"I'm going to teach you, one on one, master and apprentice style. Everything I know, you will know." Cedric was already standing up, looking through the pile of books Harry had with him. Harry was glad that he had stuffed the list of spells Lupin had given him in his pocket. If Cedric knew he was already getting private lessons he would be less inclined to help Harry, and Harry knew that he needed all the help he could get if he wanted to bring down Black.
"These are pretty good choices," Cedric said, hefting Confronting the Faceless in one hand. "Loads of useful spells in these."
"Glad you approve," Harry said. Cedric seemed not to notice the sarcasm. He was flipping through the books, folding back the ears of pages he seemed to think were important. Harry was glad Hermione wasn't witnessing the casual disregard of the books.
"The best thing we can do is give you the basics for a bunch of spells," Cedric said. It's easy to perfect a spell, just takes loads of time and practice. It's getting the basics down that kills you."
Cedric started to walk away, Confronting the Faceless tucked under his arm. When Harry made no move to follow him he turned around. "Well, do you want to learn or not?"
Harry followed him.
Cedric was not an easy teacher. Patient, understanding, and knowledgeable; but demanding. After they left the library Cedric took Harry to an abandoned classroom where he pressed Harry to see how much he knew. The pile of broken chairs in the corner stretched to the ceiling. Harry figured that it was the classroom that Cedric trained in. Some of the chairs had rather alarming gouges torn into them. Charred edges were a common sight.
Rather than having Harry demonstrate his repertoire of spells, Cedric decided that they would duel. Harry lost badly.
He only got three spells off, minor jinxes at that, before Cedric had him disarmed, bound, and gagged. Personally, Harry felt that the gagging was unnecessary, more showing off than anything, but it did demonstrate to him how far off he was from being able to take on Black. Cedric was talented, maybe even prodigious, but he wasn't a hardened criminal who had fought in a civil war for years. Black was infinitely more dangerous than Cedric, and Cedric could beat Harry in seconds.
Despite Harry's poor showing, Cedric didn't seem disappointed. If anything, he seemed more excited once he saw what he had to work with. He kept muttering about "malleable" and "no ingrained bad habits." Harry would have thought it was all very sinister if Cedric hadn't been smiling when he was muttering and circling him. It came off as poor melodrama. Harry decided it was to take the sting out of losing. Cedric's greatest assets were his humor and casualness; he could defuse any tension with a simple joke or lazy question.
They began with the two spells Harry had to learn for Lupin. Cedric made Harry perform the Shield Charm a dozen times, correcting various minor flaws in his pronunciation, posture, and wand movement each time. Harry had to remind himself that Cedric was doing him a favor and hexing the boy would probably be seen as ungrateful.
However, even he could see the improvement he had made by the time Cedric said that they would be moving on to the next spell. His shield's wavering had diminished to being nearly imperceptible, the area it covered had grown, and Harry could keep it almost indefinitely (until Cedric started flinging hexes at it to see how well it stood up to spellfire).
Cedric seemed to take a perverse delight in pointing out Harry's flaws and creating challenges for him. One time he made Harry hold the shield up while reciting the alphabet backward. Another time he made Harry try to adjust the size of the shield to match various objects that he conjured up and threw at him. They were tests of flexibility and control, Harry knew, and they would be invaluable for mastering the spell, but that didn't make them any more enjoyable to perform. And Harry thought that Cedric was almost hoping that he would fail, especially when he decided to start throwing fruit, some of it blown up to grotesque proportions, at his shield. After a tomato the size of a bludger splattered against his shield Harry announced that he had had enough of that particular exercise. Cedric made a disappointed noise.
They took a break after practicing the Shield Charm and Cedric asked Harry questions about his life. They never began invasive though, and Harry appreciated Cedric's tact.
"So you've never seen a professional quidditch match live before?" he asked incredulously.
"Never really had the chance," Harry said. "I'd love to though. It's sounds like fun and I bet I could learn a lot from watching the pros in action."
"You better believe it. None of the stuff I do in quidditch matches here is original. I stole all of my moves from the great seekers I've seen play. Pretty impressive that everything you do is instinct. I suppose I should just be glad you aren't a Hufflepuff. You would've had my spot your second year, best case scenario."
"Worst case scenario, you mean," Harry said with a cheeky smile. Cedric just laughed, unselfconsciously.
"I bet you could see a game this summer," Cedric said. "A bunch of us on the Hufflepuff team get together and go to see Puddlemore United and England play when we can. I'm sure nobody would mind if we brought you along, though they may not like making the competition even better."
"Yeah, maybe," Harry said. He wasn't sure that he was too keen on spending that much time with the Hufflepuff team. They seemed nice enough, but he didn't know Cedric that well, and he didn't know the others at all.
Cedric seemed to anticipate what Harry was thinking. He just smiled and said, "If you want to come see a game just tell me, or write me. It's not a big deal. My dad gets tickets to a lot of games from people trying to bribe a ministry official."
"Your dad takes bribes?" Harry asked, astonished that Cedric would admit something like that.
"It's a bit of a time honored tradition to take bribes. Doesn't change any of his decisions but he likes seeing quidditch matches so he never says no. Suppose they figure one of these days it'll swing him around to their side."
"What does your dad do, exactly?" Harry asked.
Works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," Cedric said. "Importation of dragons, sphinxes, trolls, and the like."
Harry gaped at the idea of people trying to bribe a ministry official to bring dragons into the country. Cedric, for once, didn't seem to follow Harry's line of thought.
"Anyway, you did pretty well with the Shield Charm," Cedric said. "Figured we would move on to the Hurling Hex next. It's not all that useful in a high level duel from what I've seen but it's a good jumping point for learning harder dueling spells."
"Jumping point?" Harry asked.
"Yeah. Like how in transfiguration you start simple, with a needle, and progressively perform harder transfigurations. The better you are with simpler dueling spells, and the more you know, the easier it'll be to pick up new ones. I bet Dumbledore could learn pretty much any spell he wanted in an hour or so. If there are any spells Dumbledore doesn't know. It's all about your base, my dad always says."
"Where do you learn all this stuff?" Harry asked. He knew he sounded petulant but it was frustrating seeing the gulf not only in skill, but in knowledge, between the two of them.
"Here and there. Mostly I read books and I listen in class," Cedric said dryly. Harry blushed. Hermione did most of the reading and listening for him. It was the time honored division of labor in their group; Hermione took notes, Ron complained, and Harry arbitrated when the two of them unavoidably clashed. He supposed that their way might not be the most efficient, or conducive to actual learning.
"Any books to recommend?" Harry asked.
"These aren't enough for you?" Cedric gestured to the pile of spell books that Lupin had picked out for Harry.
"Those aren't really books you sit down and read. They're more…reference books," Harry said.
Cedric looked at the books, a speculative gleam in his eyes. "Yeah, I think I could give you a few recommendations. If you're serious about it." He looked like he was on the verge of bursting out laughing, and Harry had a sudden premonition that he should've asked someone who was a less insane teacher than Cedric.
"After all, excellence requires commitment," Cedric said.
Harry groaned.
Pretending that he didn't hear him, Cedric said, "Now, on to the Hurling Hex."
Christmas was on Thursday but Harry had no time to look forward to presents with the way he was being worked by Lupin and Cedric. He had nearly mastered the Hurling Hex in his first session with Cedric and the older boy was so overjoyed at his progress that he had arranged sessions for every remaining day of the break, including Christmas.
Normally, Harry would have resented the breakneck pace of the training Cedric was putting him through. Combined with his meetings with Lupin, Harry was spending most of his time reading, practicing spells, and getting drilled on the basics of dueling. It was grueling and a lot of the preparatory work was boring. The basics of anything is boring, Cedric assured him, but that didn't make spending his entire holiday learning any more fun. However, despite how he normally would have reacted to be pushed so hard, Harry had something to focus on whenever his determination wavered.
Whenever his attention flagged or he started wanting to spend his time doing something else Harry would deliberately recall the sound of a woman screaming and Black's name being chanted repeatedly, as if by some hellish choir, in his mind. The dementors were evil, but they gave Harry the tools he needed to motivate himself. Harry never let himself forget, for even a moment, that Black was the one who had betrayed his family, betrayed him and every chance he ever had to have a real family. There was purpose in his training. A purpose that would lead to compensation for the wrongs Black had done to him.
If Ron or Hermione had been there they would have tried to take his mind off of things. They probably would have even succeeded, Harry thought. But Cedric and Lupin were the only ones to relieve Harry from his solitude, and they were both helping him to bring Black to justice, even if they didn't know it. It was the difference between companionship for its own sake, and companionship in the pursuit of some greater end. The one was more comforting than the other.
Cedric had been so kind as to deliver an armful of books from the library to Harry. The Principles of Magical Maturation, Art and Guile in Dueling, and The Application of Non-Offensive Magic in Dueling were just the first of what Cedric promised would be a string of important texts. Some, such as Art and Guile in Dueling, were manageable texts, only about two hundred pages. The others were tombs that, if thrown properly, could brain someone.
Harry committed to spending all of his time reading when he wasn't working with Lupin or Cedric. He would have taken to bringing books to meals with him but Cedric started sitting with him, striking up conversations about everything from quidditch to the history of great duelists in England to stories about their classmates (which ranged from the humorous to the disturbing).
"…and so Wayne had three elephant trunks on his face, two growing out of his ears and one out of his nose. None of us ever teased her again after that."
"What kind of spell can even do that?" Harry asked. Cedric just shrugged and took another bite of his sausage.
Harry noticed that as he spent more time working on spells with Cedric and Lupin he was able to apply some of the same principles from the previous spells he had learned to the next spells. It was the most intensive period of learning he had ever had (Cedric said he had to wait until O.W.L.s until he could complain) and the lack of any lag time in between learning a new spell made the overlapping principles even more obvious.
The theory he was learning helped too. The Principles of Magical Maturation outlined the specific requirements of different classes of spells; they ranged from magical power demands, visualization, emotion, location, wand movement, and even tonal vocalization. A particular spell that emitted a loud sound wave had to be screamed as loud as possible in order to even work. Harry had never even dreamed that so many different requirements went into different spells. He realized exactly how simplified the Hogwarts curriculum was for the first few years, teaching the absolute basics before weeding out the students that wouldn't be able to progress any farther and teaching the advanced magic in the post-O.W.L.S. years.
Harry didn't spend all of his time working. One morning he had been getting breakfast, mentally tallying up the things he had to do before his meeting with Cedric, when the Hufflepuff appeared with a gaping smile and two brooms in his hand. They were old Cleansweeps that the school owned.
"Thought you might fancy a run-out," Cedric said.
"Bloody right I would," Harry said. The sight of broomsticks made him realize how much he longed to be in the sky, forgetting his troubles with a rush of speed and wind.
"I'll be sure to show you a few moves, make up for your deplorable lack of training," Cedric said.
"Hey, Wood's a great captain," Harry said, defensive. Cedric was obviously kidding but Harry was fond of Wood. He was quidditch crazy and a harsh leader, but he had given Harry his chance and never gave any less than everything he could.
"Sure, but he's not a seeker," Cedric said, his smile never fading. He was never put off by Harry's responses. Harry supposed that was what contributed to the comfort he felt around Cedric. The other boy didn't seem to judge.
The kick-off wasn't as smooth as it would've been with his Nimbus, but it was better than being landlocked, Harry thought. Cedric seemed more comfortable on the school broom. Somehow Cedric had procured a snitch, which was struggling valiantly in his hand.
"Give it five seconds, and then try to catch it," Cedric shouted. Harry nodded, the snitch flew off, and Cedric shot off after it four seconds later.
"Cheater," Harry yelled as he pushed his broom to its maximum speed.
"Disqualify me then," Cedric shouted back. He was closer to the snitch, the gold standing out against the cloudless blue sky, but Harry was much lighter, being the ideal build for a seeker.
Soon they were flying side-by-side, and Cedric started turning his broom slightly into Harry's, trying to nudge him out of the way. Harry tried to push back for a few moments but realized that Cedric was too strong for him ever to win like that. He started giving way, letting Cedric think he was getting the upper hand, then decelerated. The sudden change in speed surprised Cedric, and the absence of a body to push against made his broom twist suddenly to the right, throwing off his pursuit of the snitch.
Laughing, Harry lanced after the snitch. Cedric tried to catch up but wasn't fast enough. By the time Cedric caught up Harry was floating stationary in the center of the pitch, snitch squirming in his hands.
"Show me some moves, huh?"
"You kidding?" Cedric said, unperturbed. "That was just a warmup round. Best out of three."
Harry threw the snitch. "You're on," he said.
Best out of three became best out of seven, then thirteen. Harry was beating Cedric to the snitch most times, his superior speed providing an edge that Cedric couldn't match.
"It's situations like this that make me wish I had a pet dementor," Cedric grumbled, the snitch in Harry's hand once again.
"That does seem like the only way for you to win," Harry said, his tone agreeable. Cedric glared at him. Harry had a feeling that he would be paying for that comment in a 'teaching' duel with Cedric later.
"Just wait. Hufflepuff has been cooking up some serious strategies. Quidditch isn't a one-on-one game. It's all about teamwork, and Hufflepuff has that in spades."
"If that helps you sleep at night," Harry said dismissively.
He didn't hear what Cedric said in response, but it sounded like a mumbled curse.
"What time is it," Harry asked, noticing the sun beginning to set behind one of the goalposts.
Cedric pulled out his wand, muttered a spell, and smoke wrapped itself into numbers that Harry couldn't quite make out. "Quarter to six."
"I'm late," Harry groaned, nosing his broom at the ground. Cedric followed.
"Late to what?" Cedric asked.
Harry felt guilty. After a while he had resolved to tell Cedric about his lessons with Lupin but it always felt like he had been cheating him, getting private lessons from Lupin and Cedric and Cedric getting nothing in return.
"Professor Lupin has been helping me out with some spells. The Patronus Charm, mainly," Harry said.
Cedric nodded, as if Harry wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know. "That explains where you got those books from. They seemed the type that a third year wouldn't know about. Makes more sense if Professor Lupin gave them to you."
Despite Cedric's unconcern Harry couldn't help but feel guilty. "I should've told you."
"It would've been nice to know," Cedric said. "But you don't owe me anything. You're not obligated to tell me all your secrets because I gave you a few tips about spells."
"Alright," Harry said, unconvinced. "But I still feel bad. I'll make it up to you."
Cedric waved a hand, nonchalant. "If it makes you feel better."
Harry had to run to Lupin's office, showing up a few minutes late, but Lupin didn't seem to notice. He was much more interested in Harry's progress in learning the two spells than his tardiness. Lupin seemed as impressed with Harry's development as Harry was. After Harry successfully demonstrated the Shield Charm and Hurling Hex, Lupin said, "I was expecting to have to tutor you in both of those spells. They're the basics any duelist needs to have down perfectly. I'm impressed, Harry."
"I've been getting help, professor," Harry admitted. "Cedric helped me out with those spells. He's a pretty good teacher," he added.
"I suppose I should start worrying about my job security then," Lupin said, smiling. His teeth were rather canine, Harry noticed. He wondered if it was a birth defect or if Lupin had been subjected to a curse gone wrong at some point.
"Let's see how well your patronus has improved then. Have you looked back at the book I gave you?" Lupin asked.
"I reread it. It made more sense the second time around," Harry said.
"I thought it would. 'A student will find that his mental constitution is more affected by one book thoroughly mastered than by twenty books he has merely skimmed.'" Lupin said this as if imparting a great wisdom.
"Yes, sir," Harry said.
"Am I to assume that what happened last time was an anomaly?" Lupin asked.
"It won't happen again," Harry said. Lupin looked satisfied, relieved even, by his answer. He took his place in front of the cabinet and, at Harry's signal, opened it.
The dementor floated; its menace and aura of fear cloaked it. It was weaker than it had been last time but Harry could feel the drumbeat of fear starting its pounding again, weaker than before, but present.
Harry didn't wait for the dementor to advance. "Expecto Patronum," he said. He focused his entire mind on one memory; Hagrid telling him he was a wizard. The thought that he could leave the Dursleys, that he wasn't a freak, that his life meant something more than he could have ever dreamt.
A silvery thread leashed from his wand, growing and forming into a rough concentric circle in front of him. It was struggling against itself, as if trying to find a shape, a form of its own.
The dementor approached, but slower than it had before, wary. In the back of his mind Harry noticed that the boggart seemed frightened of something a dementor would be afraid of, an adoption of principles along with the transformation perhaps.
"Expecto Patronum," Harry said again, his mind never wavering from his memory, Hagrid's cheerful face filling his mind until it almost seemed as if he were there again, living the best day of his life all over again.
No shape emerged from the silver mass, but it pushed, expanding outward, growing in size, as if an angry flood suddenly unleashed. It jumped at the dementor, pushing away the rough drumming in Harry's head, and the dementor stumbled backwards, back into the cabinet. Lupin shut the doors on it with a resounding thump. The silver of the patronus floated to the floor where it dissipated, leaving Harry feeling somewhat colder than he had been. His memory floated away with the spell, but Harry knew it was still there, waiting to be called upon again.
"Excellent work, Harry," Lupin said, beaming. "Truly remarkable. I hadn't expected to see that level of a patronus charm for months. In fact, that was the best I had thought you would be able to accomplish at your age. Remarkable."
Somewhat elated from his victory, Harry said, "Just some hard work and a bit of reading, professor." Lupin laughed but the look he gave Harry wasn't truly a happy one; it was the look of a man lost in memories that were beautiful and painful.
Lupin snapped out of it. "We'll keep meeting. The day after Christmas, if that works for you. I'm sure you can have the charm mastered in a matter of weeks if we keep working at it. In the meantime, why don't you work on the Incarcerous Spell and the Reductor Curse. The Incarcerous Spell shouldn't give you too much trouble but learning your first curse is always difficult. It's a brand new area of magic, a land never before explored. Cedric may be able to give you some pointers, if he's willing, but ultimately it'll come down to you."
"Can we go again, professor?" Harry asked, his wand twitching in his grip. He thought he could feel the patronus, charging up inside him, just waiting to be let out.
"Not today, I think. One should never empty their well of eagerness. Waiting will give you something to look forward to next time."
Harry was disappointed but even the refusal couldn't bring him down completely. He felt free and happy, airy, like he could walk on water. The thoughts of Black that had been plaguing him, recurring even in his dreams, were washed away as so much silt in a storm.
Before he turned to leave, Harry said, "Thanks for helping me, professor."
Lupin looked at him, some indefinable emotion in his eyes. "I could do nothing less, Harry."
"I don't know why you assumed that I have some problem with you getting extra lessons from Lupin," Cedric said. "I would do the same thing in your place. You're being hunted by the most dangerous man in the British Isles. Of course you should take advantage of all the people willing to help you."
"Thanks, Cedric, you always know how to make me feel better," Harry said, sarcasm dripping.
Cedric gave him an enormous fake smile. "What kind of friend would I be if I didn't remind you of the mass murderer trying to kill you at every opportunity?"
"An empathetic, comforting one," Harry quipped.
"A boring one," Cedric said. Harry sighed and decided not to press the point.
"Anyway, I hope you didn't hunt me down just to tell me that," Cedric said. He was right; Harry had more than that to tell the boy. It hadn't been easy tracking him down, especially with how empty Hogwarts was, but eventually Harry had found him perusing the section on inorganic to organic transfiguration in the library.
"Not even close. I've got something to show you. Something I think you'll like," Harry said, not able to keep a teasing note out of his voice.
He piqued Cedric's interest. "What is it?"
"I have to show you. I didn't bring it with me," Harry said.
"Why not?" Cedric asked.
"It's too valuable to be carrying around the school while I was looking for you. I left it in my dorm."
"Well, go get it," Cedric said, exasperated. "And it had better be good for how much you're building this up. If it isn't a Firebolt I'm going to be seriously disappointed."
Harry just winked, and, ignoring Cedric's cries from behind him, he ran back to Gryffindor Tower and grabbed the rewrapped broomstick, carrying it back to the library as quickly as he was able.
Cedric was waiting by the conglomeration of tables near the front of the library, pacing back and forth. Harry walked up to him and set the package on the table with reverent care. Cedric just stared at it gaping.
"It can't be," Cedric said. "There's no way. Not a chance."
"Believe it," Harry said. Reaching out a hand, he slowly, cautiously, unwrapped the package. The thin brown paper fell away to reveal a gleaming handle, and then a well-coifed broom end, and then, emblazoned in gilt on the top of the broomstick, the word 'Firebolt.'
"It's amazing," Cedric said. "Like a handcrafted gift from the quidditch gods."
Harry said nothing, just marveled at the broomstick. The rest of his Christmas presents lay strewn about his room up in Gryffindor Tower, forgotten, dwarfed by the sheer magnificence of the Firebolt.
"Who gave this to you?" Cedric asked, not quite running his hand along the length of the broom.
"No idea. They didn't send a note," Harry said.
Cedric drew his hand back, as if worried that it would catch on fire. "You don't know who sent you a Firebolt?"
"No," Harry said, nervous at Cedric's reaction.
"And that didn't seem suspicious to you? Do you know how much these things cost? Most people can't afford one on six months' salary. People don't make anonymous gifts of Firebolts."
Wand out, Cedric repaired the wrapping around the Firebolt with great care, making sure none of the broom was exposed. When he was satisfied that it was completely wrapped he conjured thick gloves for himself, put them on, and then grabbed the broom in one hand.
"What are you doing?" Harry cried.
"Harry, if getting an enormously expensive gift anonymously for Christmas while a mass murderer is out to get you didn't alarm you then I'm not sure there's any chance of you reaching middle-age," Cedric said.
Harry flushed. "You think it's cursed."
"I think there's almost no chance that it isn't cursed," Cedric said. "We'd be idiots not to take it to someone and find out."
Frustrated as he was at having the broom taken away from him, Harry figured that Cedric was right. Cedric had never displayed any signs of panic before; he was perpetually calm and personable, so for him to have such a strong reaction to the broom made Harry nervous as well. It wouldn't do for him to nearly get killed by flying a cursed broom. Ron would never let him hear the end of it.
It would be so nice just to ride it though, Harry thought, looking longingly at the broom. The finest broom ever made; each one was individually hand-crafted and made out of the finest materials. It was every quidditch player's dream to have one. And Harry had come so close, it was there, if only he had reached out and taken it. He almost wished he had taken out the broom, just for one flight, before he had showed it to Cedric. Harry knew it would have been a bad idea but ever since his Nimbus had been destroyed it was if there was a part of him that went unfulfilled, a passion stolen away, and the Firebolt would have been the perfect solution to that.
"McGonagall then?" Harry asked.
"Or Flitwick. I love Sprout but she's not exactly an expert on curses. Snape is, but the less time I have to spend with that man the better." Cedric gave an exaggerated shudder.
"We'll wait until lunch and give it to her then," Harry said.
Cedric hesitated, then nodded. He seemed eager to be rid of the broom. Harry supposed that it was a natural aversion Purebloods had, growing up in a culture that constantly warned them about cursed objects. He wondered if Ron would've had the same reaction.
"Now, are you going to tell me what you're doing in a library on Christmas morning?" Harry asked.
"Greatness waits for no man, Potter."
"I should introduce you to my friend, Hermione. I think you two would hit it off. Neither of you have any sense of proportion when it comes to books."
Cedric punched him on the shoulder. "Just because you can't read doesn't give you permission to mock the rest of us."
The two of them made companionable conversation as they walked to the Great Hall. Harry felt himself becoming less upset that he would have to give up the Firebolt. Cedric's company made up for the fleeting disappointment.