Chapter Seven
The school year dragged on, the weeks blending into each other as every student went about according to his own schedule. Harry, Hermione, and their friends were all at the top of their classes. Even though The Order was planned to be something greater than Hogwarts, it functioned very effectively as a study group.
A few other first-years had joined them, hoping to boost their own grades and of course, get information about the Boy Who Lived. From Slytherin, Tracey Davis and Blaise Zabini had applied and been accepted. Daphne had put a good word in for them, but Harry still had his doubts about them, as he had about her. Morag McDougal, Terry Boot, and Padma Patil reasoned that the club would help their grades. Parvati Patil, Dean Thomas, and Sally-Anne Perks were the first new students to be accepted. All of the Hufflepuffs in their year had joined, and all seemed happy with the camaraderie in the club.
Harry had managed to find a sleep-walking spell and used it to persuade The Order to begin physical training. "As long as the body goes through the motions," he had said, "the body will reap the benefits. The mind will not be bothered during in, and we can use potions to speed up the physical recovery the body would have gotten in that sleep." Every one of the nine now cast it before bed. Every night, they'd all troop up to the Room of Requirement and join Harry in his gym, and after two months, the results were showing.
The magical training was almost as smooth. Their skills with a wand were more spread out; Daphne was by far the best of the eight, and Neville the worst. In their first session, Harry noticed Neville fighting with his wand for even mediocre results. So he'd kept the other wizard back at the end of the second.
"Neville," Harry called. The pudgy boy came up to him. "I know I'm not a very good wizard-" "Nonsense!" Harry interrupted. "The reason you're having such trouble is that wand. I can tell it is not matched to you."
Neville shifted back and forth a bit. "It belonged to my Dad. My Gran says that I honor his memory by using it."
"Then your Grandmother is deliberately sabotaging your magical education and development! You need a properly matched wand, or you'll always have trouble with spellcasting." He thought for a moment. "Come up to my dorm tomorrow. Let's see what we can do."
Neville had been quite shocked that Harry had studied wandcrafting, but his results could not be questioned. The Longbottom scion's new wand was thirteen inches of cherry wood with a core of Unicorn tail hair. His performance in class and The Order's combat sessions had improved drastically. He still had some problems with confidence, but Harry was certain that he was on the road to maturity.
The Occlumency was the hardest part. Those who had not been exposed to the art before picked it up quickly, building their mazes and illusions to ensure that anyone penetrating their minds wouldn't get to anything important. Daphne and Susan, on the other hand, already had some training under their belts and resisted the method Harry was teaching. They thought the goal was to keep probes out by brute force; Harry insisted that they take a softer approach. "The mazes confuse anyone trying to get inside your heads. They're designed to make Legilimency take longer to reach anything, so that you can break eye contact. This helps maintain the illusions I'm teaching you; if someone can see something in your head and you have no obvious defenses, they won't question it."
Given the length of time Occlumency training would usually take, Harry had decided that he needed a way to protect them in the meantime. His analysis of Riddles memories had given him a number of spells that could be used for such a purpose. They were rather time consuming to cast, and didn't last much longer than a few months, but they worked. The dangerous part was that continued use of them could sabotage your attempts to build naturally the defenses those spells gave artificially, preventing you from learning proper Occlumency. Still, once he'd explained the concept to his Order, they'd accepted the less-than-ideal solution and let him cast the spells.
That was actually one of the reasons he emphasized misdirection and deception in defenses, rather than walls and guards. Proper Occlumency takes years to master, but it takes a lot less time to produce illusions and such. They wouldn't be able to withstand a full-strength Legilimency assault, but they could slow it down considerably. That should give my friends sufficient time to break eye contact. Still need to be able to shrug off Giant-sized mental blows, but, baby steps.
Hermione had thrown herself into the exercises Harry had given her over the past year. She could see how hard Harry was pushing the others, and knew that he had to have a reason. He just couldn't do otherwise. She had determined to become the witch he needed her to be.
The study club celebrated her birthday on the 19th. The brilliant witch was quite touched that she had so many friends. Harry had cooked the birthday dinner, which made the party an even greater success. The presents weren't particularly creative, given that most of them had only known her a little under three weeks, but she appreciated them anyway.
Harry sat in his office. It was little more than a tent he had set up with his desk, bookshelves, and comfy chair in one corner of the Gryffindor Common Room, but it served its purpose. His overseer on his family's farms had sent a report that the decline of the last few years had been turned around. The large influx of Crups, Kneazles, and Zombies had cleared out all of the vermin, vines, and other undesirable elements quite nicely. The fields would be ready for planting in the spring, sooner if the experimental time dilation field wards actually worked.
One of the things his master had taught him was how to run a business. The House of Potter had several: grain & produce farms, a Quidditch training camp, a print shop, and now Harry's creature ranch. The older ones had declined in the ten years Harry spent at Durzkaban, and he needed them operational if he was to avoid poverty.
The Potters may never have been very wealthy, until recently, but that would not be enough to stave off whatever the Goblins had plotted, let alone lead the Wizarding World into a Golden age. He need much more substantial coffers to fight a war, which he was quite sure was coming, and those things producing income for his family had declined.
Harry still didn't know if Dumbledore was to blame for that or not. On the one hand, there were managers on the side of Light who could have assumed control of those businesses and kept them running, so the Headmaster hadn't put much thought into it. On the other hand, the Dumbledore family had never been even as wealthy as the Potters, and most of their family had become professional academics, so Albus may not have trusted his own judgement in picking a manager for a business. On top of that, the fields had been burned during the first war with Voldemort, so maybe Dumbledore had decided it was simply a lost cause.
Questions of why and how aside, the fact remained that he needed money. The only reliable way to get money was to own businesses and properties and have other people working them. His master had done quite a bit to shore up his finances through giving him forty percent ownership of the fortified cities he'd built up in what had once been sleepy retirement communities. While the rents from that land, and the share of profits from businesses partnered with him, where substantial, the cities were more about making people safe and providing a recruitment base for the army they would eventually need.
At around one-thirty, Harry laid down his quill. He needed some time to simply relax. Running a business was hard. Gilderoy had told him that this was one, something he would need to learn how to do, and two, something that only he could do. "I would have loved to stop the decline on your businesses, particularly the farms, his master had said, "but I couldn't. I am not related to you closely enough to circumvent the Wizengamot and deny them the chance to appoint an untrustworthy manager. Given that Lucius Malfoy has the largest single voting block there, whoever was chosen would be indifferent to you, at best. I judged it not worth the risk."
On the plus side, one of his other plans had gone better than he'd hoped. House Elves were very useful creatures to have around, but Hogwarts had too many of them. The castle simply didn't produce enough work for them to do. He'd anticipated hiring a few for himself, and a number more for the cities, but no more than forty.
Just over two hundred had jumped at the chance for more work.
That was enough to let Harry start exposing wizards, particularly Purebloods, to Muggle culture; specifically, food. The remaining Elves were simply too few to do everything they way they had before, so Harry helpfully directed them to the new Hogsmeade KFC. It was already a hit with a number of the Muggleborns, and it caught on quickly with the rest of the students ten minutes into the first serving. Other restaurants, like Mexican and Asian, would follow soon.
Hermione entered his office right then. "Harry, we have to get going. We'll be late for Charms."
***Scene Break***
Charms class was fun, as usual. Professor Flitwick stood up on his desk and told the class, "Good morning, everyone. I hope you've been practicing that 'swish-and-flick' wand motion. Let's do it together."
The students of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw all waved their wands in the way ordered.
"Today we will be learning the Levitation Charm, or making objects fly. It uses the wand motion we just performed, coupled with the incantation Wingardium Leviosa. Get into pairs and practice levitating the feather in front of you."
Harry tried to team up with Hermione, but the professor put him with Seamus Finnegan and Hermione with Weasley. That's a disaster waiting to happen. Either she'll get so frustrated she hexes him, or he'll insult her enough to leave her in tears. I'd better keep an eye on those two.
As Harry expected, his best friend mastered the charm first. "Look everyone! Miss Granger's done it! Five points to Gryffindor!" Flitwick exclaimed. She blushed at the praise.
Weasley wore his usual 'I hate you 'cuz you're smarter than me' look. Harry had seen it every time someone else did well in class. He couldn't help but feel sorry for the red-haired wizard, as that sort of behavior was usually seen in jealous kids unable to outshine their older siblings. And Weasley had five. Still doesn't excuse his being an arse.
After class, the first-years filed out of the room, chattering excitedly about that new spell. Harry was rather less impressed; he'd been performing such feats at the age of six. He didn't really understand it until he was nine.
"Have you been practicing the Flame and the Void, my apprentice?"
Harry nodded at Lockhart. "Yes, master. I am."
The older wizard chuckled. "Then you can begin performing greater spells. The Flame and the Void helps us focus on the magic we want to wield.
"There are three types of wizards in this world, Harry: Wand Wizards, Hand Wizards, and Thought Wizards. Wand Wizards require a device to focus and enhance the power they have, so they cannot use many of the greater spells, if any at all. Calling forth their magic involves reciting an incantation, even if only in their thoughts, and moving their focus, usually a wand, in a specified pattern. But their results are invariable for the most part, their spells producing the same effect every time they are cast. They can be some of the most reliable spellcasters.
"Hand Wizards have a good deal more power and control over their own magic than Wand Wizards. They don't need any external assistance to cast their spells, which are greater in effect than any of the wand spells. Like the Wand Wizards, they incorporate physical motions into their spells, but these are designed to shape the spell after casting, not actually call it forth. It takes quite a bit longer to train a Hand Wizard, as they require mental fortitude and agility, both hard to learn quickly.
"Thought Wizards are the most powerful of human wizards. They can invoke magic using only their thoughts; as long as they have access to their power, no prison or restraint can hold them. To become one of this exclusive order of wizards, you must achieve greater discipline and strength of mind than any Hand Wizard. You may or may not ever reach this point, Harry, but striving toward it will make you a better wizard anyway."
He then walked over to one of the bookshelves in the room. He pulled out a rather old-looking tome and handed it to Harry. "This book contains exercises that will help you develop the mental faculties required to cast magic without external reinforcement. They all use the Flame and the Void, and will exhaust you until you have the endurance and reserves of strength of the greatest of mages."
Something suddenly hit his shoulder, knocking Harry out of his reminiscences. A head of bushy brown hair ran away from him, and Harry knew he could hear her crying. He saw Weasley and Finnegan laughing, the girls glaring at them, and deduced that the ginger prat had just insulted Hermione badly. This will not stand!
His hand flashed out and seized the back of Weasley's robe. One quick tug later and the insensitive arse landed on it. "That was entirely uncalled for, Weasley. I've put up with you since the start of term out of politeness, but I cannot just let you insult my best friend. You will apologize to her before dinner, or the Caretaker will find you hanging by your ankles in the dungeons!"
Satisfied with the terrified expression on the redhead's face, Harry turned and marched over to the girls. "Would you mind helping me look for Hermione? I don't want her to miss class just because Weasley decided to be an arse to her."
They all agreed.
***Scene Break***
After their last class that day, Harry asked the other girls if they'd found her. Padma answered first. "She's in the girls' loo on the third floor, crying. I tried to tell her that she shouldn't let Weasley get to her, that he was just not worth it, but I don't think it helped."
"Thank you Padma. Mind telling the others that I'll be late for the Feast? I have a best friend to comfort."
Seeing her nod, Harry strode off to the third floor. He reached it five minutes later, having taken a few hidden staircases and one concealed passage through a portrait. A pair of Hufflepuffs walked out of the bathroom as he approached.
"Pardon me, ladies, is Hermione Granger in there? She needs me."
One of the witches giggled. "Aren't you a little young for a girl to 'need you'?" The other one slapped her friend's shoulder. "She's crying, and this is her best friend. Of course she needs him." Then she turned to him. "Nobody else is in there, so go give her the hug she needs."
Harry thanked the two witches, deliberately ignoring the images that wanted to reflect what the first had said, and pushed the door open. "Hermione?"
The sniffling from the only occupied stall paused. "What are you doing here, Harry? You could get in trouble for entering the girls' loo."
"Fact one: you're my best friend. Fact two: I haven't seen you since this morning. Fact three: you're crying in a bathroom. This situation has me concerned for you. Weasley had no cause to even think such things, let alone say them. He's unequivocally wrong. Now come out of that stall and give me one of your bone-crushing hugs. I think you need it."
She sniffed a few more times, obviously thinking, then unlocked the stall and came out. Harry wasted no time; two seconds later she was crying into his shoulder, his arms pulling her tightly against him.
Ten minutes later, Hermione had exhausted her tears, and regained control. She dried her eyes with one hand, the other still firmly attached to her best friend. Neither made any effort to let go. This is rather pleasant, Harry thought. If only I didn't have images of us in ten years doing it. Damn you, Lockhart! You put Pureblood marital politics in the head of a wizard who just wants to enjoy what remains of his childhood!
Harry looked over his friend's shoulder at his watch. "I think you'd better get cleaned up, Hermione. The Feast starts in thirty minutes, and it'll take us almost that long to deposit your books in your room and get there."
She gasped. "Oh! I missed all my afternoon classes! I must speak to the professors-"
Then she remembered. "I can talk to them tomorrow, explain why I missed and make up any assignments. Thank you for being here for me, Harry." She leaned up and kissed his cheek, then pushed him out into the hall. "I'll only be a few minutes."
Harry chuckled. For all of her maturity and bookishness, she's still a girl. We are definitely going to be late to the Feast.
***Scene Break***
However did that woman end up Deputy Headmistress?! When a teacher comes in, shouting about a troll in the dungeons, you do not send half the student body straight at it! Thank the Valar Daphne taught us that Sonorus Charm.
He had been most amused by Quirrel's performance in the Great Hall. The man clearly didn't know how to act, but his audience was so bereft of logic that they never noticed. McGonagall responded as he should have expected by sending all students to their dormitories. It never occurred to her that the Slytherin dorms were in the dungeons, and the Hufflepuffs' weren't far off in the basement.
Her questionable leadership skills did, however, give Harry the opportunity to establish himself as the most prominent first-year. He'd stood up, cast Sonorus on himself, and bellowed to the entire Hall "Belay that order! The Hufflepuff and Slytherin Dorms are close enough to the dungeons that the troll would find them and kill them very quickly! Turn these tables over and barricade the door with them! Prefects and older students: wands out! If the troll tries to enter the Hall, blast it apart!"
Flitwick quickly backed his plan up, and started reinforcing the tables-turned-last line of defense. McGonagall seemed to realize her stupidity, and didn't bother speaking until she led the teachers out the door to deal with the troll. The Headmaster had been called away earlier that week for an emergency meeting of the International Confederation of Wizards, and had not yet returned. Harry really wanted to know just why he wanted to keep holding three jobs that should each be full-time, but didn't put much thought in it that day.
That one night did more to cement the image of the heroic Boy Who Lived than any other since the night the title was bestowed. The foundation for my power base is laid. Now I just have to make it powerful enough to resist any attack. Piece of cake, assuming I want to both eat it and still have it.
He drifted off to sleep to the memory of holding his best friend so tightly. If Weasley insults Hermione again, I don't care what anyone thinks. I'll duel him into a puddle of ectoplasmic goo!
A/N: The bit about Hand and Thought Wizards was inspired by the movie Merlin from the 90s with Sam Neill and Helena Bonham Carter. The Flame and the Void seems a fairly common thing for magic users, which I first ran across in sonhamdragon's Harry Potter: Apprentice here on this site.