Interrupta Vitae
Chapter Two: First Classes and Eternal Dragons
Gohan awoke the morning after the Sorting Feast a little sleepier than usual, but apparently well before the other boys in his dormitory. Sharing a room with other people was a strange experience for an only child, though that would have been soon to change, as he knew his mother had told him that he'd have a little brother or sister, soon. After getting dressed, nearly forgetting his school robes, Gohan checked his schedule. Potions with a Professor Severus Snape was first on his list after breakfast. He remembered Ron complaining rather loudly to his brothers, and Gohan gathered that this Professor Snape was a singularly unpleasant man. Not wanting to potentially lag behind the others in the class, especially Hermione who seemed to devour books like his father did meals, he brought his potion book, as well as the others he'd need that day and some writing supplies, in his bag and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast.
Gohan seemed to have awoken far earlier than most of the other students. According to the clock on his nightstand, he was a full hour early for breakfast. His training for the arrival of the cyborgs had him well used to waking up well before dawn, his father not wanting to waste any more time than was strictly necessary. Looking around, he saw a few scattered early arrivals who looked as though they'd only arrived minutes behind him. Most of them looked like older students, one hand shoveling food into their mouths and the other either propping open a book or writing on a sheaf of parchment. Gohan smiled at their industriousness. Even if they weren't training their bodies, there was something oddly comforting about seeing people dedicated to training their skills. His meal nearly finished, the rest of the students arrived and began making morning conversation.
"Hey, Gohan," Ron said, sitting next the half-Saiyan as he read his book and absentmindedly chewed on a slice of bacon. "You keep some really early hours, don't you?"
"I had to," Gohan replied, absorbing as much of the information as he could before putting the book down, marking his page as he did. "Training with my dad, he had me up before dawn. Didn't want to waste time on anything...except maybe breakfast."
"At least he had his priorities somewhat straight," Ron laughed before scooping up a pair of fried eggs, a few slices of toast, and a smattering of bacon.
"Reading before classes?" Hermione asked Gohan happily, sitting to his other side.
"Yeah," Gohan replied, leaning back a bit to relax. "I remember Ron and his brothers saying he was a...how'd they put it? A 'right nasty piece of work?'"
"Got that right," Ron replied darkly. "Of course, what'd you expect from the head of Slytherin?"
"It seems strange," Gohan began, furrowing his brow. "That they'd let a teacher stay when he has such a negative reputation."
"I think that," Hermione replied, finishing her toast and taking a drink of pumpkin juice. "Has to do with his rather...unique position. Potions masters aren't easy to find, let alone replace. They tend to only take on a handful of specially-chosen apprentices, not teaching entire classrooms."
"Why are they so hard to come by?" Gohan asked.
"Getting a Potions mastery is dangerous work," Hermione responded, tapping her chin in thought. "I read all about different mastery programs after Professor McGonagall visited my family to deliver my Hogwarts letter. Anyway," she continued, shaking herself away from the tangent. "You have to prove you can brew a lot of very difficult, very dangerous potions to an accredited Potions master. A lot of people either end up going for easier mastery programs or...well...blowing themselves up."
"That makes sense," Gohan said with a wince. Guess its a lot like chemistry, he thought to himself.
Neville joined the group for breakfast shortly thereafter. The conversation drifted to less serious topics, like the magical world's favourite sport, Quidditch, about which Ron was rather noticeably...excitable. He was also looking forward to his flying lessons...apparently, witches and wizards used brooms to fly. It sounded ridiculous to Gohan, and he wondered if his friends could be taught to fly the way he does. They might not have a lot of ki, but flying really didn't take that much power unless you wanted to go really fast. Gohan filed away the idea for later, as a different subject entered his head, something he remembered from the train ride to Hogwarts: the last war.
"Not to be morbid," Gohan began a bit sheepishly. "But...well, do you guys know any books about the war? The one against You-Know-Who? I'd like to know more about it, get to know the world I'm in a little better."
"The Rise and Fall of the Dark Lord," Hermione replied almost immediately. "Its the best book on the subject I could find at Diagon Alley. They might have a copy in the library."
"Thanks, Hermione," Gohan said before noticing the other students getting up. "Looks like its time to head to class."
Ron groused quietly as he, Gohan, Hermione, and Neville made their way down to the dungeons. The stonework grew cold as Gohan trudged down the hallway leading to the door. As he grew closer, he saw a small plaque to the side that read "S. Snape, Potions Master." Walking quietly into the room, Gohan and the rest of his group sat in a line on an unoccupied table. Quietly, he sent out his senses, gauging the emotions of the students in the room. A mild fear, mixed with trepidation and no small amount of expectation pervaded the area, though about half the students seemed to be less anxious than the rest. His schedule said this was a joint class between Gryffindor and Slytherin, so the other half had to be the latter. He saw the platinum blonde head of Draco Malfoy, holding forth with a particularly unattractive girl about something. Gohan was shaken out his reverie by the sound of a large door slamming shut. Swooping through the room like a massive bat, Gohan watched Professor Severus Snape subtly watch the students in the room as he made his way to his blackboard.
"I am here," he began, turning swiftly to face the class. "To teach you the subtle and exact science of potion-making. There will be little foolish wand waving. Few of you," he added, sending a piercing look across the room. "Can understand the simple beauty of a bubbling cauldron, the power behind the shimmering fumes. For those few of you with the proper...disposition, I can teach you to bottle fame, brew luck, and even stopper death. Let us see..." he continued, looking down the parchment on his hand. "Son, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
"I don't know, sir," Gohan replied simply. "That wasn't covered in the book."
"Disappointing," Snape replied, shaking his head slowly. "Where would I look to find a bezoar?"
"Bezoar," Gohan ruminated, searching his brain for the familiar word. "The stomach of a goat, I believe."
"Well well well," Snape said, his eyes twitching almost imperceptibly. "You might not be a complete waste of my time. Granger," Snape barked. "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"Nothing, sir," Hermione replied quickly. "They're the same plant. Muggle botanists also call it aconite."
"What is the most common use of Mandrake, Granger?" Snape asked, barely a second after Hermione's answer.
"Antidotes, sir," Hermione responded.
"A know-it-all," Snape said under his breath. "Still, at least you remember what you read."
For the next twenty minutes, Snape grilled the rest of the class on the uses of potion ingredients. Gohan was certain he was using material that they wasn't covered in their books; the half-Saiyan might not remember all the details, but he was fairly certain things like Polyjuice Potion and the Draught of Living Death weren't covered in the books he'd gotten from Flourish and Blott's. Did this man really expect his students to read years ahead? Trying to read the man's emotions to get a better feel for what his real goal was, Gohan found very little: there was no anger, no suspicion...one of the few things he could pick up was cold calculation. Perhaps he really was simply assessing their abilities, but Gohan had his reasons to doubt such a thing.
"I am sorely disappointed in you all," Snape said silkily. "Other than a few outliers, it seems none of you have even bothered to read the books for this year, let alone anything beyond. If you want to succeed here, you will have to actually apply yourselves." Looking at the clock, Snape nodded marginally. "Seeing as we no longer are in possession of adequate time to brew an actual potion, your assignment is to write no less than twelve inches of parchment on the uses for shrivelfig and wormwood. Now, begone."
"There's something...weird, about him," Gohan said to his companions as they walked down the hall towards the Great Hall.
"I think that's just Snape, mate," Ron said. "Honestly, he's kind of scary."
"What I don't get is," Neville began, shaking himself a little. "Why'd he ask us about stuff way above our level? I...I didn't read the whole book, but I know a lot of the stuff he mentioned is third and fourth year material."
"Well above that, Neville," Hermione added. "I have one of the seventh year textbooks, and he was asking questions out of that. Though, maybe he was just gauging our aptitude, seeing how willing we are to push ourselves to understand the material."
"Maybe," Gohan said as they sat down for lunch amidst an ever-increasing crowd. "But, I get the feeling he's hiding something. I can't really tell what, though."
"He's a grown wizard, Gohan," Ron said, building himself a towering sandwich. "Some of the stuff they know is dangerous."
"Some of the stuff I know is dangerous," Gohan said under his breath before digging into the food he'd put on his plate.
Looking around, he noticed that his comment had caught the attention of at least one person. Hermione was giving him a long, appraising look, and Gohan wondered if his slip had been a mistake or a blessing. On one hand, he didn't really know Hermione very well as a person. She was friendly enough, and definitely intelligent. He saw her reading once, during breakfast, and she read even faster than he did. The way she almost immediately became his friend, though...well, maybe she just hadn't had many before now. Gohan himself recalled how, during their trip to Namek, Bulma had told him all about the bullying she faced because she was smart. It was sad to think of someone like her being a scared, lonely kid...like Neville.
Thinking about his other new friend, Gohan was sure he had at least a working understanding of Neville Longbottom. The boy was, admittedly, not that difficult to figure out: he was scared. Of what, Gohan couldn't quite pinpoint, but the Son of Goku could practically smell the fear on him, sometimes. There was more to it than that, though. Neville seemed almost...sad. Like Gohan himself was. It was hard thinking of someone going through the same thing as him, and Gohan surmised that's why he had such an easy time befriending the timid boy. Maybe...maybe, he could help him, like Mr. Piccolo did. After all, that's what his dad would do. Thinking about it that way, Gohan began forming a plan in his mind. Then, another idea hit him as they got up and walked towards their next class for the day, Transfiguration.
"Did Dumbledore ever participate in the last war?" Gohan asked, his eyes narrowed in thought.
"Participate?" Ron asked with a coughing laugh. "He practically led our side, according to dad."
"Like a general?" Gohan asked. He needed to know about what actually happened during that war. Maybe something about it would give him a clue as to how he and Harry had switched places. Maybe someone used some weird magic on Harry as a form of revenge. If that were the case, maybe he could find out who did it and track them down.
"I guess," Ron replied with a shrug. "Though, if what dad says is true, Dumbledore is still sort of playing the part, even if he isn't working on taking down the Death Eaters directly."
"Why would he do that?" Gohan asked to himself, before his expression turned grim. "He doesn't think the war is over."
"Yeah," Ron said. "But, I mean, You-Know-Who is dead and most of his followers are either dead or in Azkaban."
"That wouldn't stop someone from filling in in his place," Gohan said darkly.
"Like Lucius, Malfoy's dad," Ron responded with a hint of anger. "He's got the money, and he's a slimy snake."
"I need to talk to Dumbledore," Gohan said under his breath as they walked up to the door to the Transfiguration classroom.
Gohan walked into the room and found a seat near his friends as thoughts ran around his mind. Dumbledore fought in the last war, he might know who all was loyal to this Dark Lord, he thought as a tabby cat climbed up on to a stool set at the front of the class. The Dark Lord might have someone who specialized in teleportation magic, enough to pull something like this off, enough to make it look like an accident. Gohan's thoughts were derailed as the tabby cat jumped from the desk and, in midair, shifted into the form of Professor McGonagall. He arched an eyebrow, it wasn't something he hadn't seen before, Oolong and Puar could both shape shift, but theirs always happened in a puff of smoke, this was far smoother. The rest of the class gasped in amazement and Gohan spotted an almost imperceptible smile on the stern Professor's face, as well as a feeling of satisfaction emanating from her.
"Good afternoon, class," Professor McGonagall said primly. "I am here to teach you the art of Transfiguration. Through it, you shall learn to transform objects and even living creatures from one form into another. Transfiguration is very demanding, both magically and mentally. You will learn to hold images in your mind and mold your magic with great care. To excel here is to excel in controlling your gift. Alongside Charms, this class forms the basis of all wandwork. Before we settle in and perform our first transfigurations, however, we much learn the laws that govern our work, as violating them can lead to extremely dangerous results. With that in mind, can anyone tell me the first Principal Exception to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration?"
Hermione's hand shot up and, upon receiving a nod from the Professor, said, "The First Principal Exception to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration is food. To put it into layman's terms, you can't create food using magic. You can summon some, if you know where it is, and you can increase the quantity if you already have some on hand, but you can't, for example, turn a stick into a biscuit and eat it."
"Very good, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said with a fractional smile. "Five points for Gryffindor. In fact, you very nearly hit on to why this is the case. Can anyone guess as to why one cannot transfigure the inedible into the edible?"
No one's hand went up. Not surprising, as Gohan knew that particular bit wasn't covered in their books. Thinking on it logically, Gohan soon realized why this would be the case and, just a moment before Hermione, he sent his hand into the air.
"Go ahead, Gohan," Professor McGonagall said.
"I don't know if this is actually the case," Gohan prefaced before lowering his head a bit. "But...I think its because whatever you transfigure is still the original object you started with, just in a different form. So, while I could change a piece of paper into something resembling a ham sandwich, it wouldn't provide any actual nourishment, because what I'm eating is still paper, just with the appearance of a ham sandwich."
"Precisely," McGonagall replied with another nod. "Another five points to Gryffindor. Never forget this, class: whatever you transfigure will always remember what it used to be, originally. So, while you can use your magic to make a stone into a sword, one can just as easily use magic to reverse the transformation, no matter how long its been since you transfigured it."
For a few minutes afterwards, all one could hear was the scratch of quill on parchment as Professor McGonagall went over the various laws of transfiguration. To Gohan's gimlet eye, this seemed to be the most scientific of the kinds of magic he'd seen, so far, and understanding it was easy enough. While not quite as cut-and-dried as potion-making, transfiguration had rules aplenty, and was broken down into several discrete steps. Thankfully, Gohan had little problem with visualization, since that was one of the main ways one learned to mold ki. As they were given their first assignment, turning a match into a needle, Gohan had the distinct sense that, aside from Hermione, he was well ahead of the curve.
"I do expect at least a partially-complete transfiguration by the time class is dismissed," McGonagall said formally. "Remember that you must concentrate on the image in your mind and let your magic mold the object. This is as much about power as it is control."
Control was something Gohan had in spades, but that was ki. Holding his wand over the match on the desk in front of him, Gohan was having a hard time getting the magic to flow. Reaching within himself, Gohan felt the magic within and, like channeling his ki, he pulled the magic out through his fingertips and let it flow through the wooden shaft they held. A small beam of barely-visible light began to pour out of his wand, changing the shape of the match. A kernel of excitement popped in his mind and, before he could react, the soft glow turned into a bright flare, and the match was reduced to ash.
"Aah, Mr. Gohan," McGonagall said, walking over to the young half-Saiyan. "It would seem you let your emotions get the better of you. Your magic responds to your feelings as much as it does your will. While shunting large amounts of power into a spell might be useful for some charms and curses, transfiguration needs a light touch."
A wave of her wand restored the match to its original state and Gohan was left to try again. Gohan heard a snicker from the far side of the class, but he shut it out. Focusing harder this time, Gohan let only a small amount of this new power flow from him. After a few tense moments, the work was done: where once there was a wooden match, there now sat a slim, steel needle, ready for threading. Professor McGonagall walked over to him after he'd waved her down.
"Well done, Gohan," McGonagall said in an approving tone. "Few can get their control right after only one mistake, I am impressed. Top marks."
Gohan thanked her and had to good grace to blush a little at the compliment. From what he could tell, the somewhat forbidding woman was not the kind to give them out lightly. Hermione finished transfiguring her needle just a minute or two after Gohan and she, too, had received top marks from the Professor. By the end of the class, Neville and Ron had at least managed a thick, wooden needle, which was better than some of the barely-sharpened sticks he saw being collected. Apparently, neither boy wanted to be left behind by Gohan, something that made the young man smile inside. They had some free time before dinnertime, so Gohan excused himself, stating that he needed to talk to Professor Dumbledore. The others looked at him a bit oddly, but consented to, for the time being, going their separate ways. Making his way to the gargoyles he'd seen when Hagrid had first brought him to Hogwarts, Gohan tapped on one, not really knowing what he was doing, and told it that he was requesting an audience with Professor Dumbledore. A few moments later, the gargoyle moved aside and Gohan ascended the spiral staircase up to the doors of Dumbledore's office.
"Gohan, my boy," the bearded gentleman said in a kindly voice. "What can I do for you, this evening?"
"I was talking with Neville and Ron," Gohan began, deciding it was best to simply get to the point. "And, they told me that you fought against You-Know-Who in the last war...and, well, that you don't think the war's over, yet."
"Well, they aren't wrong," Dumbledore said, motioning Gohan to sit in front of him. "While he certainly did die that fateful Halloween, I have reason to believe that he still haunts the world of the living and is planning to return. Some strange power Harry had as a baby protected him from the Killing Curse Voldemort used on him, causing it to rebound. Speaking of strange powers," Dumbledore continued, his eyes twinkling madly. "I hear you displayed a rather odd ability on the train with Mr. Malfoy."
"I...haven't really had a chance to talk to you about this," Gohan admitted. "But, I know how to use my ki to do things like fly."
"Ki, you say?" Dumbledore asked, stroking his beard. "What kind of power is this, if you don't mind my asking? Is it another kind of magic?"
"Not exactly," Gohan replied easily. "From what I've been able to gather, only some people in this world have magic. Ki is in everyone and everything, from me to the trees to you, Professor. Its a sort of living energy, I guess."
"This is a power anyone could learn to use, hm?" Dumbledore asked quietly. "I must confess to find myself curious as to how this power works, but I'm afraid I might be too old to learn a new trick like that."
"I don't think you're too old, Professor," Gohan stated kindly. "My father's master developed the Kamehameha wave, and I think he was at least a hundred years old, at the time."
"Perhaps another time, my boy," Dumbledore said with a smile and a small laugh. "Now, I get the feeling that there was more to your visit than merely asking me about Voldemort."
"Voldemort?"
"That was the name he chose for himself when he took the mantle of Dark Lord," Dumbledore stated simply. "It is a name many wizards fear to speak, preferring to use euphemisms like 'You-Know-Who.' However, there is little to fear in a name. Names are, after all, just words, it is the men behind them that one should mark with care."
"That's true," Gohan admitted. "I wanted to ask you if this Voldemort had anyone who specialized in any kind of teleportation magic, maybe someone who knew well enough to make an intentional teleportation look like an accident."
"A good question," Dumbledore said, placing his chin on his hands. "Many wizards during the war made use of portkeys and apparition, there were few better tools for mobility and discretion, if one's target wasn't specifically warded against it. However, I wouldn't say that any of them, that I know of, were specialists in the area, but I wouldn't discount it, either. I could look into the old Death Eater trials and see if they turn up anything. I'm rather impressed by your reasoning skills."
"Well," Gohan began in an explanatory tone. "Where I come from, teleportation is a lot harder. My dad knew a technique called Instant Transmission that let you teleport to anyone you could sense, but he...never got around to teaching it to me. I thought that wizards might have done more research on it and would have more useful information. I still don't quite get exactly how magic works, so most of my reasoning is just educated guesswork."
"Never underestimate the power of an educated guess, my boy," Dumbledore said with a grin. "Great discoveries have happened because of them. I do, however, have...one final question for you, if I may." At Gohan's nod, he continued. "Exactly how powerful are you? I ask more out of curiosity than anything, since I saw some of your training exercises before the term started."
"I..." Gohan began before, a short moment later, deciding to simply tell the man the truth, as he couldn't sense any malice in him. "I fought a being called Cell. He...he killed my father and was powerful enough to destroy the sun, or so he claimed. I had to...I had to kill him."
Dumbledore blinked once. He'd silently cast a lie detection charm, just in case, but his wand, held carefully beneath his desk, had shown that the words Gohan spoke were nothing but the truth. "This is a lot to process," Dumbledore admitted after a few moments. "You certainly look quite strong, but I did not anticipate such a response. I...was there no other way?"
"There really wasn't," Gohan said, a slight edge to his voice.
"I'm sorry to dredge up painful memories," Dumbledore said gently, still off-balance from Gohan's previous answer. "I admit, I'm rather astonished. Powerful enough to destroy the sun, let alone the Earth...well, my boy, let me be the first to say that I am certainly glad that you're on our side. I will, of course, not let a single person outside this room know of what we spoke, today. Not without your prior consent, of course."
"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore," Gohan said with an uneasy bow.
As the young man excused himself for dinner, Dumbledore sat in his office, eyes focused sharply on nothing in particular. The Sorting Hat was designed not to violate a student's privacy and would tell only certain facts to even the Headmaster. Though it'd hinted that Gohan was by and far more powerful than he appeared, Dumbledore couldn't help but think that was a gross understatement. The boy appeared to have a good heart, and a good head on his shoulders, as he'd had the same idea a few days ago and was currently waiting on the results of his inquiry with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He didn't want to spoil the boy's triumph, children always did best when encouraged in their pursuits. The fact that he'd come to the conclusion on his own was interesting in and of itself, but what was more astounding was how forthcoming he'd been.
Perhaps, Dumbledore though on, the boy trusted him. Snape had told him that he had a well-defended mind, whatever power he had seemed to innately shield him from Legillimency, but the Potions professor said that he did manage to find that the boy was able to gauge a person's mental state. Perhaps this ki was responsible...maybe the boy could sense it, like wizards can feel magic, only his senses are more finely-tuned, allowing him to pick up on a person's general mental state, if not their exact thoughts. It wasn't working like Legillimency, if that was the case, since even an apprentice Occlumens can tell when they're being probed. What's more, the power, this ki, was in everything. He had it, and by extension, Voldemort himself had it, as well. So did his followers. Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. The Death Eaters must not get their hands on the boy, if they ever managed to find his secrets, there's no telling the amount of destruction they could cause. Gohan might not be the Chosen One as Harry, wherever he was, is, but he could prove to be the single most powerful ally the Light had. The boy had a good heart, the Headmaster could tell that easily enough, there was little doubt he'd align himself opposite the Death Eaters. Maybe, he could find a way to truly gauge the extent of the boy's power...
Gohan could sense them before he even heard them. Malfoy and his two associates were hiding in a nearby alcove and their hostile intent was palpable. A hissed "petrificus totalus" later, and Gohan turned around, seeing a beam of light streaking towards him. He'd already powered up a little, when he'd felt their intent, and the spell was now moving with a painful slowness. Gohan easily moved out of the way, the spell striking the wall a few meters behind him and dissipating.
"You," Malfoy hissed angrily. "Think you're so bloody clever, don't you? Answering Snape's questions like you did and showing off in Transfiguration. Think you're better than me?"
"I got my hand up before you did," Gohan replied easily. "Its not my fault if you took longer than I did, maybe it just means you have things you need to work on."
"Are you mocking me?" Malfoy growled, his eyes wide with indignation. "Crabbe, Goyle, we need to teach this little mudblood a lesson in respecting his betters!"
Gohan sighed inwardly. He was having a nice evening, until now. They shot more spells at him, and Gohan made note of the incantations and motions they used, a lesson Mr. Piccolo had drilled into him during his early training: learn your opponent's techniques wherever possible. Some of them, mostly those fired by Crabbe and Goyle, were so badly aimed that Gohan didn't even need to dodge them. The rest were moving so slowly that it was almost boring. The other boys, obviously deafened by their own righteous indignation, didn't hear someone approaching, someone Gohan had sensed coming for what felt like some time.
"Mr. Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall yelled angrily. "You will lower your wand, now!"
Shocked and angry, the three boys lowered their wands, looking surly.
"Twenty points from Slytherin," she continued, her voice still scorching. "For each of you, and a week's detention with Mr. Filch for your unprovoked attack on a fellow student! You are dismissed."
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle stalked off angrily huffing as they made their way to the Great Hall for dinner. Professor McGonagall walked towards Gohan, her features settling back to normal.
"Are you unharmed, Mr. Gohan?" she asked in a softer than usual tone.
"I'm fine, Professor, thank you," Gohan replied with a small bow.
"I must say," Professor McGonagall said, her voice changing to one of mild wonder. "I don't think I've seen anyone move as quickly as I saw you move, then."
"I didn't really know any spells to defend myself with," Gohan admitted with a shrug. "And I figured I'd probably get in trouble if I'd knocked them out. They weren't that difficult to dodge, so I figured either a staff member would show up, or I'd just end up leaving."
"Indeed," Professor McGonagall said with an approving mod. "Five points to Gryffindor for your restrained response in not escalating the situation. While Hogwarts does have provisions in its rules for self defense I, nevertheless, applaud your reasonable approach."
"Thank you, Professor," Gohan responded with a smile. "I should probably head down to dinner before Ron, Neville, and Hermione send a search party."
"I'll not stop you, then," Professor McGonagall said, a marginal smile on her face. "I'll see you next time we have class."
Gohan walked down to the Great Hall, a plan forming in his head. He could feel that Dumbledore wasn't telling the whole truth with regards to Voldemort, or at least, wasn't telling him everything. It was most likely, in his mind, that the Headmaster didn't have all the pieces of the puzzle himself, and didn't want to give Gohan an incomplete, or worse inaccurate, picture. However, the fact remained that Dumbledore fervently believed that Voldemort would return, with the implication that it would mean war once again. Something inside Gohan said that his friends would be caught in the crossfire, were that to happen. Though he'd only known them a short time, Gohan cared for Hermione, Ron, and Neville, and he didn't want to see them get hurt. It was then that he'd decided on a course of action: even if he left this world, he'd leave it with defenders. He might not be as good a teacher as Mr. Piccolo or his dad, but he could at least teach his friends how to defend themselves without magic.
"Hey, mate!" Ron called out as Gohan walked over. "We saved you a spot! So," he continued a few seconds later after Gohan sat down. "How'd it go with the Headmaster?"
"Good," Gohan said in a slightly detached voice before fully turning his attention to his friends, motioning them to lean in closer, which they did as he whispered to them. "He told me that he's almost certain Voldemort will come back."
"Yeah," Ron replied quietly. "My mum told me about that when I asked her about Uncle Fabian."
"Well," Gohan continued, his nerves calming a little. "If he does come back, I...I don't want him to hurt you guys. So, I was thinking," Gohan breathed deep, this was the moment. "Would you guys like to learn to fight like me?"
They all looked alarmed, yet oddly pleased by Gohan's admission. Hermione was the first to speak up, saying in a hushed voice, "Can you really teach us?"
"I can, yeah," Gohan said slowly, the tension ebbing out of him. "I remember what Mr. Piccolo and my dad taught me. If you guys can learn to use your ki, then you can better defend yourselves. Wizards here don't even seem to know about it, yet. The only one that's got any idea is the Headmaster, and I don't think he'd tell the bad guys."
Surprisingly, it was Neville that spoke next, his voice oddly hard, "When can we start?"
After that, they made plans to meet on the weekend, just outside the Quidditch pitch. While they did have some free time on the weekdays, aside from Friday when they had double Potions, Gohan thought it best, and the rest agreed, that it'd be for the best if they had as much free time as possible. Learning to use one's ki was a difficult task and pressure wasn't conducive to those first few attempts to draw out their latent power. That night, Gohan had the strangest dream...
"Concentrate," Yamcha said calmly. "Feel the power within, like the heat of a flame. Let it fill you up and slowly draw it from your centre, down your arms, and out your fingertips."
Harry sat cross-legged on the grass in the Son family's back yard. Ever since that day when Mr. Yamcha had offered to teach him how to be strong, Harry had been putting forth as much effort as he could manage. Unfortunately, the neglect he'd suffered at the hands of his relatives had, in Yamcha's words, left him far less physically able than a normal child his age. However, Harry had sworn to make up for lost time, and Mrs. Chi Chi seemed just as determined to help him in his goals, ensuring he ate well every day, even if that occasionally meant shoving a sandwich in his face and ordering him to eat. Mrs. Chi Chi was a very kind woman, but she brooked no nonsense. So much for the better, too, as Harry was feeling better in ever measurable way.
Concentrating, Harry felt a small warmth begin to spread from within him, coming from his chest. Slowly, the power filled him and, gently guiding it, pulled some of the power down his arms and into his hands, then out from his fingertips. Opening his eyes, Harry looked between his hands, astonished. There, lying right at the centre, was a small, glowing orb of pulsating energy: ki. Harry let the energy dissipate gently, a pleased smile forming on his face.
"Well done!" Yamcha said excitedly, patting Harry on the shoulder. "And, you didn't let it get out of control, either!"
"That's amazing," Harry said, awed. "Its really...warm."
"That's how you know you're doing it right," Yamcha said, sitting beside Harry. "Ki works best when you're calm or doing what you feel is right. Now that you've got the basics down, I can teach you the really fun stuff!"
"Like what?" Harry asked excitedly.
"Like this," Yamcha said with a cocky grin as he tossed a nearby rock into the air, disintegrating it with a ki blast.
"Whoa," Harry said in amazement. "You mean I can learn to do that?"
"All that and more," Yamcha replied with a nod. "I think the next thing we'll learn, though, is how to sense ki. Now that you know what it is, how to use it, and what it feels like, you should be ready to learn to feel it in others. When you're good enough, you can gauge a person's feelings by the flow of their ki and you can also use it to predict how an enemy is going to attack you. Oh!" Yamcha added, startled, as a car flew into view. "Looks like Bulma's here! She must have gotten the Dragon Balls."
As she landed, Harry recalled the first time he'd met the blue-haired woman, a few days ago...
"So," Bulma asked Chi Chi as they decided on a plan. "What did Dende say? Can we even do it?"
"Piccolo came by yesterday," Chi Chi said, her hand on her chin as she looked thoughtful. "He said that Dende said that he honestly didn't know if Shenron would be capable of it, since he hasn't had much time to study the magic that Kami used to create the statue that was used as a template for him."
"It can't hurt to try," Bulma said after a moment. "If he can't pull Gohan back, maybe he could at least relay a message, let him know that we're going to find a way to bring him back."
"If Shenron can't bring him home," Chi Chi said, sad notes creeping into her voice. "How can we bring him back?"
"I had an idea on that, actually," Bulma said confidently, trying to reassure her friend. "Trunks, the one from the future, left something behind, a way to call him if we needed him or if any other creations of that jerk Gero came knocking. His version of me created the time machine, but it seems to operate on multiverse theory instead of actually traveling through a single timeline. If she and I could work together, we might be able to build a machine to go to whatever world Gohan wound up in and bring him back."
"You really think it could work?" Chi Chi asked, hopeful.
"Apart from Shenron," Bulma said with a nod. "Its our best shot. So," Bulma continued, changing tack. "How's Harry doing?"
"He's been training with Yamcha," Chi Chi said, her features relaxing. "The poor boy was abused so badly for so long, I don't know if he'll ever get all the growth he has coming to him, but bless him, he's trying."
Harry started to tear up a little as he listened. She really did care about him.
"Well, that explains why Yamcha's been less mopey, lately," Bulma remarked with a small laugh. "I actually want to do something nice for him, I bet he's helping Harry out a lot more than he thinks."
"I agree," Chi Chi said before she, herself, laughed a little. "I can't say I expected Yamcha to take up a student. Maybe Krillin or Tien, but not Yamcha."
"You're telling me," Bulma replied, laughing. "Or, at least, not a male student."
"Yamcha with a female student," Chi Chi said with a mock shudder. "That poor girl..."
"Tell me about it," Bulma said before Harry heard her get up from her seat. "Well, I should head out, its been great talking to you. I'll see if Tien or Krillin want to help out with gathering the Dragon Balls. I could probably do it by myself, but it doesn't hurt to have some muscle on my side if things get hairy."
"You take care of yourself, Bulma," Chi Chi said in a friendly tone. "And stay safe."
Though they'd not been formally introduced, Harry still got the feeling he'd like Bulma. She had a certain joie de vivre that Harry noted when he'd accidentally listened in on her and Chi Chi's conversation. It was good to have so many nice people around him, for a change. No Vernon trying to punch him for small mistakes, no Petunia berating him missing a spot in his cleaning...no Dudley chasing prospective friends away. He still woke up, some days, expecting to hear his aunt and uncle, his so-called "family," yelling at him to get breakfast ready for the equivalent of half a dozen people. But, the walls of the guest room in which he'd been sleeping were becoming familiar, a balm to his mind. After introductions has been squared away, Piccolo flew in, claiming he'd heard them all the way from the Lookout. If he were back in his old world, Harry would've thought him mad, or at least that he was lying, but given the things he'd seen so far, his perception of reality had been stretched to include things like hearing everything on the planet.
"Here they are!" Bulma said triumphantly, producing a brown bag with what looked like several baseballs inside. "Tien helped me get 'em, but said he wanted to get back to training when we were done."
"Always so serious," Yamcha remarked. "That's our Tien. Well, what are we waiting for?"
With that, Bulma poured the contents of the bag on to the ground. Seven golden orbs, seemingly made of glass, with stars inside settled into position, giving off a slowly pulsing, golden light. Harry's heartbeat went up a notch, a sense of trepidation filling his mind. He didn't know what to expect, but something with the power to grant wishes had to be awesome.
"Eternal dragon," Bulma began, placing her hands over the Dragon Balls. "Hear my call and fulfill my desires! In your name, I summon you! Shenron!"
Harry nearly went blind as the balls exploded with a brilliant, white-gold light. When his vision cleared, he saw that the sky had gone black and the Dragon Balls were hidden by a font of intense light. However, that was secondary to what was filling his vision: a massive, serpentine dragon was lowering its head to face them. Whiskers on either side of its snout gave it a wizened, powerful look. Contrasting with its green scales were a pair of glowing, crimson eyes. It opened its fanged maw and, for a moment, Harry was worried the dragon was going to eat them. Then, like thunder, a voice boomed from the majestic creature.
"I am the Eternal Dragon," it said. "Name your two wishes, that I may return to my slumber."
"Shenron," Chi Chi said, stepping up to the dragon. "My son, Gohan, has disappeared to a different world. I ask that you return him to me."
"I am unable to grant this wish," Shenron said simply after a few moments. "Pulling life from between universes is beyond my capabilities. Name your second wish."
"In that case," Chi Chi said under her breath, before returning to her normal voice. "I ask that you relay a message to my son, wherever he is. Tell him: we're going to get you back, no matter what. Bulma has a plan. Just hold on until we get there. I love you."
"Your wish is granted," Shenron said, his eyes glowing bright. "The message has been relayed. Your wishes have been granted, farewell!"
The Dragon Balls flew into the sky at Shenron's proclamation after the dragon disappeared, and shot in seven different directions as the darkness cleared and daylight returned.
"Well, damn," Yamcha said quietly. "That's a bummer."
"At least he knows that we'll find him," Chi Chi said, trying as best she could to reassure herself. "I won't let my son stay in a strange world forever."
"I'll get to work immediately," Bulma said, her face taking on a very serious look before placing a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Don't worry, Chi Chi, we'll find him. We're going to bring Gohan home, no matter what."
"Thank you, Bulma," Chi Chi said, pulling the surprised woman into a hug. "I can't express how grateful I am for all your help. If I can ever do anything to repay you, let me know."
"You don't need to give me anything, Chi Chi," Bulma said kindly. "I know how I'd feel if Trunks disappeared. You're my friend, I'm not going to let you suffer when there's something I can do about it," her voice dropped to a whisper. "Its what Goku would do."
What Gohan had been dreaming about before, he'd never recall, other than the strange sensation of his mind suddenly changing focus. He found himself in a world filled with static like in a television when it can't pick up a station. A booming voice, one it took him a second to recognize, rang out inside his mind.
"I, the Eternal Dragon," the disembodied voice of Shenron said. "Relay a message to you, Gohan, from your mother."
Just then, his mother appeared in the static world. She walked up to Gohan and pulled him into a tight hug, saying into his ear, "We're going to get you back, no matter what. Bulma has a plan. Just hold on until we get there. I love you."
"Mother," Gohan choked out. "Is this real?"
"It is, sweetie," the image of Chi Chi said quietly. "Shenron can't bring you home, but he was able to send you a message. Gohan," she continued, looking him in the eyes. "Its time to wake up."
"Will I remember this when I do?" Gohan asked, tears streaming down his face.
Chi Chi nodded, smiling sadly.
"I love you, mom," Gohan said, his voice breaking.
"I know, dear," Chi Chi replied, patting him on the head.
Gohan awoke to a damp pillow and a wet face. The message...it was real. Bulma had a plan to get him back home. She was the smartest person he knew, and he had little doubt that she'd be able to find a way. Wiping away the rest of his tears, Gohan steeled himself. He wouldn't rest on his laurels, that much was certain. This world needed help, and maybe he could find a way back, himself. Better to work from both ends of a problem than to just sit by and let one person do all the work. Gohan stretched his arms and scratched the back of his head, looking at the schedule sitting on his nightstand. He had Herbology and flying lessons today; the former with the Hufflepuffs and the latter with the Slytherins. Sighing, Gohan knew that meant only one thing: Draco Malfoy was going to be there again. Hopefully, the presence of a teacher would keep him from causing trouble, but the boy was quickly beginning to vex Gohan. It seemed like his unwillingness to be cowed was causing Malfoy to see him as a threat. Maybe Gohan's confidence was somehow harming the blonde boy's standing in his own house? Were Draco's peers really that petty? Was Draco himself that petty? Shaking his head, Gohan decided that was a train of thought for another time. As it was, he needed to ready himself for the day. A quick shower later, Gohan headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast, his stomach reminding him that he was still his father's son.
Gohan sat down at the relatively empty table, apparently he'd woken up earlier than most of the other students. The only ones down looked to be older than him and his friends, probably the upperclassmen. Slowly over the next few minutes, students began to trickle in, seeking the still-hot edibles heaped upon the tables. Ron, Hermione, and Neville sat down next to Gohan, the trio still a little groggy from their early wake-up.
"Gohan, mate," Ron said with a yawn as he speared a particularly large sausage and dropped it on to his plate. "Are you feeling alright?"
"Why do you ask?" Gohan asked a little defensively.
"I could've sworn I heard you sniffling a lot last night," Ron said quietly. "Thought maybe you were getting sick or something."
"Oh," Gohan said quickly, his face reddening in embarrassment. "No, I'm not sick or anything."
"Having bad dreams, then?"
"Y-yeah..." Gohan replied hesitantly.
"Ron," Hermione said warningly. "Don't pry."
"I'm not trying to!" Ron responded, throwing his hands up as if to deflect a blow. "I'm just concerned for my friend, is all."
"I appreciate it," Gohan said slowly. "Just...its something I'd rather talk about when there aren't so many people around."
"That's alright," Neville said in a comforting voice. "Take your time, we aren't going anywhere."
They continued their breakfast, moving on to easier topics. Ron didn't seem to think much of Herbology, but Neville got a slightly peaceful, wistfully happy look on his face when the subject was brought up and it didn't take a psychologist to see that the subject was more than just academic for the boy. When the subject of flying came up, Gohan learned that wizards flew on brooms, of all things. The idea sounded patently ridiculous, not to mention unnatural. At any rate, Gohan had already resolved to teach his friends to fly properly under their own power. No use flying into a dangerous situation on what amounted to kindling.
As they walked out to the greenhouses, the sun beating down on them, Gohan wished he had more time for training. His muscles were aching abominably, and he couldn't shake the restless feeling he got when he was stuck in the same room for a long time. He honestly didn't know how normal people could stand it, just sitting around all day. Maybe he could work in some training today after flying lessons. Just find a nice, quiet area and let out some of the tension that was building up inside him.
"Hey," Gohan whispered to his friends while they waited for Professor Sprout to arrive. "I was thinking about doing some training between flying lessons and dinner. Would you guys like to come along?"
"What kind of training?" Hermione asked, quite obviously curious.
"Mostly physical training," Gohan answered without hesitation. "My muscles get really sore if I don't do at least some basic exercises every once in a while."
"That sounds cool," Ron stated with a grin. "Maybe you can show us some of the stuff you want to do over the weekend."
"That's the plan," Gohan replied with a nod. "Neville, how about you?"
"I guess it couldn't hurt," Neville responded in a slightly nervous voice as the Professor walked in.
"Greetings, everyone," she said amiably, looking over the class after roll call. "I am Professor Sprout, and we are all here today to learn about the many magical plants that you'll be using not only in your potion-making, but also in your everyday lives as witches and wizards," she tapped her wand on the potted plant in front of her. "First question: can anyone tell me what plant sits in front of you right now?"
Hermione raised her hand quickly and said, after a nod from Professor Sprout, "Its dittany, Professor, also known as Burning Bush. Its a very powerful restorative and healing agent."
"Excellent," Professor Sprout said, beaming. "Ten points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger! Indeed, dittany is something every medi-wizard worth their salt should carry with them. The leaves by themselves can heal most shallow cuts and abrasions when eaten, and a properly prepared Essence of Dittany is capable of healing deep lacerations, burns, and other grievous wounds. Now, take care," she added in a warning tone. "Immature dittany is all but useless. The plants we have with us today are still quite young, and not yet ready for any medical applications. I also must stress that dittany is most certainly not a cure-all panacea. Do not try and mix the potion for yourself and use it for some kind of idiotic bet, is that understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," the class said in unison, unnerved by the extreme seriousness that was coming from the genteel woman.
"Good," Professor Sprout continued, her voice returned to its normal, cheerful tone. "Needless to say, such a thing has happened. Thankfully, the culprits were stopped before anyone got seriously injured, but Madame Pomfrey insisted I make that particular warning very clear. As for the plants themselves," she continued, pulling a pot from beneath the table. "This is a mature dittany plant, notice the brown colouration. Also of note are the vapours you see coming from the leaves intermittently. These vapours are, as the name 'Burning Bush' implies, flammable, so do take care when tending to dittany. I, myself, once accidentally burned off my own eyebrows when trying to make Essence of Dittany too close to a mature plant."
The class laughed at the admission and Professor Sprout smiled. Gohan decided that he liked this woman; there was no deception here, he could sense no underhandedness in her heart, just a kind, easy-going person dedicated to helping her students learn. Their task for the day consisted of carefully clipping the dead leaves from the plants, placing them in a special container to hold in their flammable vapours. It wasn't exactly difficult work, but Professor Sprout had told them that precision was needed because, if they cut too close to a live stem, they could damage the plant and prevent a new leaf from growing where the old one had been removed. It might not have been taxing work, but it was certainly calming, much like tending to the bonsai tree his mother had gotten him on his ninth birthday.
"Now, students," Professor Sprout said as the class neared its end. "Your homework for today is eight inches of parchment on the care and use of dittany, making special note of how to properly water the plant. I'll be collecting your work on Thursday, take care!"
Lunch was filled with anticipatory conversation regarding the upcoming flying lessons. Hermione looked a trifle green at the thought of flying on a broom, and Gohan heard her mutter under her breath, questioning how such a thing could possibly be safe. Gohan agreed with that sentiment, if they fell off without knowing how to fly, themselves, they'd run the risk of breaking something, and that was if they were flying over an empty field. Flying through a forest, without any kind of protection...accidents could get very messy. Ron was excited, his brothers, with the exception of Percy he noted, were mad about Quidditch and his older twin brothers, Fred and George, were on the house team. Gohan himself wasn't that into sports, unless one were talking about a martial arts tournament, like the kind in which his dad fought. Neville had shown them something his grandmother had sent him, a Remembrall, which was supposed to glow red when the holder has forgotten something. Gohan raised an eyebrow at that, wondering how such a thing could possibly be useful if it didn't actually tell you what you've forgotten, but he let it slide, for the moment.
Gohan ruminated over the sheer ridiculousness of flying on a broom as they made their way out to a small clearing near the castle. A tall, thin woman stood before them, her head topped with short, spiked, gray hair and her angular face set in a look that exuded a "stern, but fair" aura.
"Everyone," the woman said as the rest of the class filed in. "Please stand by a broom. I am Madame Hooch, and today, I am here to teach you how to fly. You will follow my instructions exactly. Any foolishness, any horseplay, and I will have you in detention for the next two weeks, understand?"
The whole class nodded in assent, though Gohan noticed that, nearby, Draco had a superior, smug grin on his face.
"Good," Madame Hooch continued. "Now, place your hands over your brooms and say 'up.'"
Gohan compiled, and his broom rose easily into his right hand. Looking around, Neville's broom was rising steadily, but was a bit shaky. Ron's had practically hit him in the face, his enthusiasm had appeared to gotten the better of him. Hermione's broom had merely turned over as she looked increasingly frustrated. She looked at Gohan and he gave her a reassuring smile, silently communicating his confidence to her. He watched as she let out a long breath and, trying again, got her broom to rise steadily into her hand.
"Right," Madame Hooch said once their brooms were firmly grasped in their hands. "Now, mount your brooms and push off the ground gently, entering into a hover."
Neville, nervousness pouring from him, accidentally pushed too hard off the ground, sending him speeding into the air in a steep, vertical climb. About ten meters up, he lost grip from his broom and fell on his back to the ground below. Gohan, numb with shock, looked at his friend as Madame Hooch ordered all of them to the ground and looked over the unconscious boy. Gohan could sense he was at least still alive, but quite grievously injured. The flying instructor apparently felt much the same and cast some sort of charm that caused Neville's unconscious form to hover about a meter off the ground.
"All of you are to remain grounded until I return from the Hospital Wing," Madame Hooch said sternly. "Or I'll have you expelled before you can say 'Quidditch!'"
With that, Madame Hooch marched off with Neville, disappearing into the castle.
"Can you believe that?" Gohan heard Malfoy say derisively. "Longbottom really is a pathetic excuse for a wizard, isn't he? Almost makes me ashamed to be a Pureblood. What's this? Looks like Longbottom dropped something."
"Leave that alone, Malfoy," Hermione said angrily. "That belongs to Neville!"
"I don't take orders from you, mudblood," Malfoy spat, bouncing the Remembrall in his hand as Hermione pinked in anger. "Besides, I doubt Longbottom will miss it. I know," he continued, a smug grin on his face. "I think I'll put it somewhere he'll get to once he learns to fly like a proper wizard."
"Hand it over, Malfoy," Gohan said simply, holding out his hand as an ember began burning in his stomach. "Hermione was right, that doesn't belong to you, and I doubt the teachers would like it if they caught you stealing."
"If you want it so badly," Malfoy jeered as he pushed off the ground, leveling off several meters off the ground. "Let's see you take it from me!"
"That is it, I have had it," Gohan said, anger giving his voice a hard edge. "With your bullying, Malfoy!"
Gohan, not even giving a single thought to subtlety and completely ignoring his broom, shot off the ground, aiming straight for a surprised, and frightened, Draco Malfoy. Malfoy pushed his broom hard in the opposite direction, but Gohan appeared in front of him in a flash, nearly causing the blonde boy to crash headlong into him. Another flash later, and the Remembrall was in Gohan's left hand, and Draco looked at him as if he were a monster.
"Mark me, Malfoy," Gohan spat angrily. "I am stronger than you. I'm faster than you could ever hope to become. If you ever bully my friends again, I will know. This is your final warning."
"You don't-!"
"Draco Malfoy, Son Gohan," Gohan heard Professor McGonagall call loudly from the ground. "Get down here immediately!"
Gohan floated slowly to the ground, his face showing none of the fear and apprehension he could sense in his friends. He'd done right by his friends, and McGonagall had always been fair with him, but no matter how this went, he had no regrets. When Malfoy reached them, McGonagall motioned them to follow her without word. She brought them to a nearby empty classroom and closed the door behind them, using her wand to light the sconces in the room.
"Would either of you mind telling me," she began in a clipped voice that brooked no nonsense. "What exactly I just witnessed through my office window?"
"Professor," Gohan said, not giving Malfoy a chance to make up some absurd lie. "Neville hurt himself during flying practice and dropped his Remembrall," he added, holding up the glass orb. "Madame Hooch was taking him to the Hospital Wing when Malfoy tried to steal it and hide it somewhere Neville couldn't get to. Hermione and I tried to get him to give it back, but he just taunted us and flew off."
"So," McGonagall said, her eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly. "You pursued him, without the assistance of a broom, in an effort to retrieve the stolen property and return it to its proper owner?"
Just then, the door burst open and in the opening stood Professor Snape, a sour look on his face.
"Interrogating one of my students without my presence?" he asked silkily, an almost palpable sense of animosity coming from the Potions master.
"I was merely ascertaining the situation," McGonagall said carefully. "I wished to do so privately, nothing more. I was planning on sending for you after I had gotten both sides of the story. If I might ask, how did you find us here?"
"I was on my way to speak with Professor Sinistra," Snape said easily. "To acquire one of her star charts. That was when I passed by this classroom and heard you addressing one of my students. If you really want to keep a conversation private, Professor, I suggest you close the door fully, next time."
"I shall keep that in mind," Professor McGonagall said in a measured, if somewhat clipped, tone. "Either way, Mr. Malfoy and Gohan were in an altercation during flying lessons, one I happened to see from my office window. Madame Hooch had grounded the class after Mr. Longbottom had an accident, so naturally, I was more than a little curious to see why these two young men were in the air without permission."
"I, too, find myself curious as to the cause of these events," Snape said, his face impassive even as his voice gained an oily quality. "Such actions are grounds for detentions, at the very least. Malfoy, explain yourself."
Malfoy shuffled a little under Snape's gaze as he spun a tale about Gohan becoming aggressive after he'd found that Neville had dropped his Remembrall and picked it up, intent on returning it. Even if it weren't for the almost palpable sense of falsehood coming from his aura, Malfoy's own body language was betraying him as he spoke. Apparently, both Professors picked up on this almost immediately, though neither showed it overtly outside a small, momentary narrowing of their eyes. Each Professor had decided to discipline their students individually, and Snape left, taking Malfoy with him, leaving Professor McGonagall and Gohan alone in the empty room.
"Mr. Gohan," Professor McGonagall began, her voice noticeably more relaxed, though still professional. "I have no doubt that you acted properly. However, I do find myself rather...intrigued by the way in which you dealt with the situation. Wizards who can fly on their own are exceptionally rare."
"Really?" Gohan asked, raising an eyebrow. "There aren't spells for that sort of thing?"
"There are indeed Levitation charms," McGonagall confirmed with a nod. "However, self-powered flight is a very difficult ability for a wizard to even attain, let alone master with the level of proficiency and speed you displayed."
"I believe," Gohan replied, lowering his voice a little. "That's because I'm not using my magic to fly, but my ki."
"Ki?" Professor McGonagall asked, her face actually belying her curiosity. "I'm afraid I don't understand fully what you mean. Is this some other form of magic you were taught before you came here?"
"Its not magic," Gohan responded, shaking his head. "At least, that's not how I'd describe it. Magic here, according to what I've read, is rare and largely hereditary. By contrast, all living things have ki, and anyone can learn to use it, with proper training."
"A universal force..." McGonagall said to herself, trying to remember where she'd first encountered the concept. "Ah, chi, that's why that sounds familiar. As I recall, that's the name for magic in the Far Eastern countries, especially Chinese wizards."
"They might be using something similar," Gohan allowed. "But, if it operates on the same laws as the magic here, I don't think its the same as ki. Magic and ki do seem similar, in some areas, but ki is more...spiritual, I guess. Less dry facts and more intuitive."
"Fascinating," McGonagall said, unable to hold her intrigue in check before a thought occurred to her. "Why, pray tell, did you decide to use such speed against Mr. Malfoy? Would that not give your abilities away? I was under the impression that most children your age avoid appearing too different from their peers."
"I..." Gohan choked out, coming up short. "I don't have many friends here. Even back home, most of the friends I had were friends of...of my dad. I've had bullies threaten and pick on my friends before. Its not something I put up with, not anymore."
"I see," McGonagall said in a kind tone. "Your loyalty to your friends is commendable. I can certainly understand not tolerating bullies, especially where one's friends are concerned. I'm awarding five points to Gryffindor for your actions, even if they were against Madame Hooch's instructions, and I'll see to it that you face no disciplinary action for trying to retrieve stolen property."
"Thank you, Professor," Gohan said, his eyes wide with surprise, a pleased blush creeping up his cheeks as he bowed.
"I believe I have kept you from your friends for long enough," Professor McGonagall said, opening the door. "Enjoy the rest of your day."
Gohan, amazed at what had just transpired, walked back to flying lessons, trying to not let how pleased he was show too much. At least, not until he was with just his friends. Maybe what they'd seen would show them just what they could achieve, with training. Watching his dad and Mr. Piccolo fight had been scary, but there was always a part of him that was amazed at the kind of power they displayed, a part that knew they were training him, a scared little kid, to be every bit as strong as they were. Gohan vowed to make his friends strong, too. If any villain would ever try to harm them, he promised to ensure that it was the villain that would be sweating bullets, worrying about their power.
"Alright, Harry, close your eyes," Yamcha said to his student. "Now, let your mind search. Ignore what your physical senses are telling you, focus on just what you can see in your mind, on what you can feel out."
Harry complied, doing his best to free his mind from his body. After a few moments, he noticed a light in his mind's eye where he knew Yamcha was standing. It was a pale blue and was flowing like water out from his body. Harry watched, eyes screwed shut, as the light jumped in the air several times and moved around. As he focused, Harry could make out legs, arms, and a head. The light was wrapped around Yamcha and, without even thinking about it, Harry knew he was flying. Continuing to concentrate, Harry noticed other lights and turned toward them, eyes shut, but startled. Not too far away was a light, this one slightly red in hue and it felt...kindly, motherly. A second later, Harry realized that he was sensing Chi Chi. Opening his eyes in astonishment, the lights didn't fade from his mind, though he could no longer directly see them. A new world had been opened up before him. A feeling of awe rushed over his mind as he felt the ki from the birds that flew overhead. Turning rapidly at the astonishing new sensation, Harry felt the trees, even the ground beneath him. No two sources were the same, but they all had a harmony, a warmth.
"This is..." Harry began, unable to find words to convey what he was experiencing.
"Its amazing, isn't it?" Yamcha said in a warm tone, remembering the first time he'd learned to sense ki.
"This is...you can feel this all the time?" Harry asked, his mouth slightly agape.
"Once the door's open, it never shuts," Yamcha stated. "That's how Tien put it. Accurate enough, though. Once you learn to feel ki, you can't not do it."
Tears streamed down Harry's face. He was unable to speak. Everything was connected. It was as if he'd been thrust bodily into a hot spring. It had been shocking, at first, but the warmth that he now felt was nothing short of breathtaking. His senses had been expanded to include something he'd never have thought possible just a few short weeks before. He could sense more and more people, he could feel the Earth itself. It was a soaring, wonderful experience. Harry was now immensely glad that he'd accidentally come to this world. He'd felt the love of people for the first time and, now, he could feel the embrace of the world itself, as if it were welcoming him home for the first time.
Author's Notes
Good god, this took forever to write. I'm really sorry about this, guys. I've had to kind of refocus on school and work pretty hard, and most everything else has taken a hit because of it. I am making an active effort, now that things are slightly less insane to write more, both in terms of completion and overall word count. In an effort to increase my own, personal, accountability, I have created a fanfic progress tracker, the link to which can be found on my profile. In it, you'll find when I started certain chapters, completed them, their word count, and a link to the posted content, as they become available. Hopefully, this will give me a proverbial kick in the backside to get things out there. Let's answer some of the first chapter's questions, shall we?
Great Saiyaman54: I...don't know, actually. I haven't explicitly planned any pairings, since all the kids involved are still pretty young for romance of any sort. That said, I'm not going to completely discount the notion, but I will endeavour to make them appropriate to both the stories and the characters themselves.
Dovahkiin1503: After Cell Games and Goku's funeral, otherwise, Earth would be MAJORLY screwed. As it is, Gohan's grieving process is the only thing (so far) that's been majorly tampered with.
Sakura Lisel and linkyss: They're asking Dende because they don't want to run the risk of wasting the trip in getting the Dragon Balls if he knows, for a fact, that they won't work for this sort of thing. Think about how often they've needed them, just recently, to undo all the crap that's happened to Earth and its inhabitants. If some major shit goes down in the next year (not saying it will, just going thru their thought processes), then Shenron might not be around for a while to fix whatever the consequences of said major shit happen to be. That's not even going into how dangerous it might be to gather said magic wishing stones. Also, Shenron has hard limits, and the Z gang is aware of some of them, like not being able to bring back people who've been dead for more than a year or who died of natural causes. Reaching across to a parallel universe is asking a lot, even for draconis ex machina.
I hope that's answered everyone's questions and I also hope you guys liked this! I'll catch you guys later for Chapter Three of Interrupta Vitae, Training and A Namekian! Take care!
