Right... this is my first HP fic, so don't flame to violently! This takes place after OotP, and is pre-HBP, because I absolutely have no ability to write angst, and anything after HBP would have to contain angst! The new DADA professor is Snape, a) because I think the poor guy deserves it, and b) I despise Slughorn as being a completely self-important power seeker who annoys the heck out of me...
Pairings:
HP/CC (briefly), HP/PPatil, and eventually HP/GW
GW/DT, GW/SF, and then HP/GW
RW/LB, and eventually RW/HG
HG/VK, HG/Roger Davis, and then HG/RW
CC/HP, and then CC/DM
FFlitwick/MMcGonagall
SSnape/OC ( Christine Collum, the new Potions Master...)
'...' -thoughts
"..." -dialogue
Italicized –emphasis
Prologue
Harry James Potter sat back frustratedly, running a hand through his inky, permanently rumpled hair. His bright green eyes were narrowed in annoyance as he tried to understand how on earth using a young willow branch instead of a mature one in a flexibility potion could make the potion three times as strong.
His fingers, as wiry and strong as the rest of him after nearly two months of intensive magical and physical training, snapped together as he got the concept.
'Of course,' he thought, grinning to himself in delight. 'Taking into account Salmot's Second Law of Relative Aging, the younger willow wouldn't have the more wooden qualities of the older branches, while at the same time, it would add it's own growing potential to the potion's strength.'
Yes, Harry Potter had been working hard since the Incident at the Ministry in late May1. Sirius's death had thrown the young wizard into an upheaval of grief and pain, and as he had begun to recover, he had realized just how badly he needed to prepare for the coming years.
Admittedly, he had a natural talent for DADA and Transfiguration, and he was beginning to realize that his Potions and Charms skills were nothing to sneer at, but none of this replaced the need for Harry to focus a little and put in some good, hard work.
Much though he would like to shrug off his responsibilities and obligations, Harry knew that people all over the Wizarding World were counting on him. Heck, even Ron, Hermione, and Dumbledore himselfwere counting on him! And, truth be told, (although Harry had a hard time admitting this even to himself) something inside him desperately wanted to pay retribution in full to Voldemort and the Death Eaters who had been doing their very best to ensure his life was a living hell. He wanted revenge for his parents, Sirius, and the countless lives that had been lost in the First War.
So, Harry had thrown himself into training this summer, resolved to sharpen and improve everything about himself that he could. He had decided to start from the beginning, figuring that he had probably missed a lot while talking to Ron and sleeping (in History of Magic's case). Boy, had he been right.
The soon-to-be-sixteen year old grinned ruefully as he remembered what a struggle it had been at first, trying to review all his course materials from the first year up. Unfortunately, it was only as he began to review third year Herbology that he realized that maybe he should try some of those speed-reading and comprehension spells 'Mione was always going on about. He had smacked his head on his worn, second-hand desk repeatedly.
Casting these spells on himself was his first attempt at wandless, or 'anonymous' (as some wizards called it, because it was utterly impossible to trace. i.e., the Ministry couldn't pin him for underage magic), magic.
He had been very nervous, knowing that the consequences of this going wrong were, at best, being unable to do anything but babble for days, and at worst, ending up in Saint Mungo's Permanently Spell Damaged ward. In the end, though, Harry had decided it was worth the risk. It would take him the rest of the summer just to review at this rate.
So, after sending a few prayers to whoever might be listening, Harry made his first attempts at a kind of magic that had blown other wizard's brains out.
The casting had left him weak and dizzy for a few hours, but it had worked! The ecstatic young wizard had danced around his room singing "We Are the Champions" very loudly and off-key until Uncle Vernon had come shouting at him to "Shut the hell up," Petunia was making a soufflé.
Harry had quieted down soon afterwards, and settled down, still beaming, to read through his Herbology textbook (One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, Grade Three, by Phyllida Spore) at nearly twenty times the previous rate.
He had finished reading through his course materials up 'till graduation on Friday, July 13th. He had marked the day on his dusty calendar by making it flash rainbow colors and sing 'School's Out for Summer' by Alice Cooper (he felt that a) this song was appropriate to the occasion, and b) he was hyper on a combination of caffeine and relief from the all-nighters at the time), which he charmed to quiet down if the Dursleys approached his room.
'And they say Friday the 13th is unlucky,' he had thought smugly.
Then, he had moved on to more advanced magic, and in-depth studies of the theory behind everything, now knowing that the theory definitely made a difference to the power of the spells he cast (just think of a wandlessly-cast super-powered cheering charm put on Vernon and Petunia Dursley).
Also, knowing the theory meant he could manipulate and change spell's effects by adding a syllable here and a suffix there to suit his needs. At this point, Harry knew as much as a junior-level Auror, although whether or not he could actually cast the spells was a mystery. He could only cast five or six wandless spells a day without completely exhausting himself, so he hadn't managed to test out his abilities thoroughly yet. Harry knew he had to improve physically as well.
So, starting in early June (after the earth-shattering realization he had trouble lifting a fifty-pound weight) Harry's daily schedule began to look something like this:
5:00 a.m. - Rise, dress in work-out clothes, go running
6:00 a.m. – Do two hundred sit-ups, one hundred and fifty push-ups, and various other strenuous exercises designed to strengthen (not bulk up) muscles and increase his heart rate
7:30 a.m. – Change (and shower!), go downstairs, and cook breakfast for himself and the Dursleys
8:30 a.m. – Go upstairs and study History of Magic, Herbology, and Ancient Runes (for good measure)
12:00 p.m. – Cook and eat lunch with the Dursleys
1:00 p.m. – Study DADA, Potions, Charms, and Arithmancy (he had decided to see what all of 'Mione's fuss about it was, and had actually found it really interesting. It was the study of Divination by numbers, and infinitely more accurate than Trelawney's ... somewhat dubious methods.)
5:00 p.m. – Cook and eat dinner with the Dursleys
7:00 p.m. – Practice wandless magic until completely exhausted
9:00 p.m. – Force himself through a few more sit-ups and push-ups
10:00 p.m. – Change and go to bed (or, in most cases, try to force himself to memorize 'just one more' page of any and many subjects)
Needless to say, Harry was pretty tired. On the upside, though, with all the extra freedom the Dursleys had been giving him since- er- 'encountering' the Order members at King's Cross, the Boy-Who-Lived was a little over 5'11", tall, lean, muscular, and tan from all his work outdoors. His hair was also a few inches longer, meaning it had less the appearance of a whacked-off bush and looked more rumpled and windblown.
These changes, combined with his newly revealed sparkling emerald eyes (Moody had taken it upon himself to provide him with an everlasting pair of wizarding contacts that would give him night vision) made Harry a formidably handsome young wizard with the power of one of the elite Dark-Wizard catchers, set to put Hogwarts on it's ear this year and prove that he was (or would be) ready to battle and defeat the most powerful and evil wizard since the dawn of time (i.e., Voldemort).
Although Harry hadn't had much time to notice the changes in himself, even he suspected that Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasley's would be surprised when he went to the Burrow for his sixteenth birthday (Ron had promised to invite him soon, and Harry was even considering asking him if he could come a week or two early). He had no idea how accurate this prediction was going to be, even with the useful assistance of Arithmancy...
-End Prologue-
1- In this fic, the school year goes from September 1st thru May 31st, and I'm claiming artistic license!
A/N: Well, I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far! I have a policy of free updates for the first few chapters, but after those I will need REVIEWS to update! grins evilly
SO, everyone should R/R! It's not completely necessary, but I swear, I LIVE on encouragement from reviewers! It's you guys that make this whole thing worth it, really...
Now, press the lil purple button... come on, you know you want to... please?