Surprisingly enough, this story is not pinning for the fjords yet. And here's the eighth chapter for your enjoyment, folks!
* Review Response:
raigalcc, no, Harry isn't and likely won't even be a part of the Hückebein Family. But, yes, poor acromantula...
The Ultimate Balance Chaos, lordamnesia, that you for your reviews, folks!
ultima-owner, that's 'Puffs for you!
Duel, nah, Harry can't kill Voldie until he gets himself a proper body. Right now, the most Harry can do is kill the host, which won't do much more than inconvenience our Dark Lord.
Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and "Mahou Shoujou Lyrical Nanoha" belong to their respective owners. No profit is being made. The same goes for any other media that might be used as the sources of ideas and inspiration.
"speaking"
"telepathy"
「Devices speaking」
'thinking'
"spells"
Additional Disclaimer: The authors of this story in no way approve murder as a solution to interpersonal conflicts.
Power of Eclipse
Chapter VIII: Power Revealed
The next morning, just as he was leaving the common room for the Great Hall, Harry was stopped by a Hufflepuff prefect whose name he didn't care about. The wizard in question didn't look all that happy about the job pushed onto him but, nevertheless, politely informed the green-eyed Eclipse Driver that professor Sprout wanted to talk to him later this afternoon.
For a moment this made Harry worry that someone has seen him sneaking into the Forbidden Forest and reported him - he really wasn't looking forward to listening to the Hogwarts staff bitching about him not following their stupid rules - but he quickly dismissed this idea as an unlikely one. Indeed, if professor Sprout was aware of his excursion into the forest, there was no way she'd wait till afternoon to tear him a new one for this 'misdeed'. Not to mention that she would've tried to intercept him personally instead of sending a mere prefect to inform him about the meeting.
Having reached this conclusion, the green-eyed youth pushed the thoughts about his upcoming meeting with professor Sprout to the back of his head. There were other, more pressing things for him to worry about right now. He still had todays classes to endure and the constant stares of his classmates and their whispers behind his back weren't helping him any. True, it wasn't as bad today thanks to the successful monster hunt he had in the forest yesterday, but… How long this period of serenity would last, Harry had no idea.
Harry stopped in front of the professor Sprout's office, still without any idea why his head of the house wanted to see him and, to be honest, he was a little worried that she might have summoned him to lecture him about something. Anyhow, he'd be in way more trouble if he just ignored this order, so, letting out a small sigh, he steeled his nerves and knocked on the door. An answer came almost immediately:
"Come in." The head of Hufflepuff house called. With another small sigh, Harry opened the door and entered professor Sprout's office. Much like the dormitories, it was a homey, low-ceiling room, decorated with panels of some light wood and many potted plants, quite a few of which were obviously magical. Professor Sprout herself was seated behind a large table with stacks of parchments and tomes on Herbology cluttered on it. Behind her there was a large bookcase with more books on the topic as well as a pile of diagrams, the one Harry could see depicting the correct way to replant some weird root crop. "Please, take a seat, Mr. Potter." The witch said while gesturing at a comfy-looking chair by her table.
Thanking his head of the house with a brief nod, the young Eclipse Driver took the offered seat. For the next few moments the room was silent except for the rhythmic ticking of the clock. Then professor Sprout spoke again:
"You must be wondering why I've summoned you here, Mr. Potter?" She asked. Receiving a nod of confirmation from the green-eyed mage, she continued: "Well, I've only called you here for a few simple questions if you're willing to answer. They will help me make your time at Hogwarts more comfortable and enjoyable." Ah, Harry thought, that's what this all was about…
"Alright." He agreed, albeit not sounding very eager to share anything about himself.
"Well then." Professor Sprout began. "I know, you've been here for only two days, but please tell me what you think of Hogwarts so far."
"It's… confusing." The green-eyed youth replied after a few seconds. Indeed, navigating the castle with numerous secret passages, moving staircases and corridors that led to a different area at different times was not easy at all. Especially for someone who was used to living in a world that was quite exact and logical. "It's also very crowded." He added shortly afterwards.
"How so?" The head of the Hufflepuff house asked, a little confused by his words as there actually weren't that many students attending Hogwarts these years, no thanks to the Dark Lord and the Blood War he waged against the Magical Britain. Plus, wasn't Mr. Potter raised in the muggle world? Surely, he had attended a school there.
"I do not do well when around other people." Harry admitted after a few moments of silence. That was about as much as he was willing to share right now.
"I see…" Pomona breathed out. "Is that also why you don't really interact with your housemates or peers?" She received only a nod in response. So, Mr. Potter was a loner who preferred to keep his distance from the others, she though. Not exactly a Hufflepuff material, but the Sorting Hat surely had a good reason to place him into her house… "Alright then,.. What are your thoughts on the classes you've had so far?" She asked then.
"I-Is it normal that we learn spells without been taught how those spells actually work? Even in Transfiguration we've only been given a formula that describes what influences the change and to what extent. Not a word was said about how Magic makes this change happen in the first place. And I refuse to believe that it is too mysterious to be described with a few equations." Harry 'ranted'. At least for him, the classes that taught wizarding magics would've made much more sense if the teachers just gave the equations that made the spells work. After all, if Belkan and Eclipse Magic could all be described with mathematics, why would this one be radically different from them?.. His 'rant' seemed to have caught professor Sprout a bit off-guard.
"Ahm… Well…" The Herbology professor began after a few moments of silence. "There is a branch of magical studies, Arithmancy, which deals with the magical properties of numbers and their various applications. Including spellcrafting. It is a complicated discipline and while certainly useful, it is not something that is necessary to learn magic. If you're interested in how the spells you're taught in your classes work, Mr. Potter, you can sign up for the Arithmancy elective class in your third year." She said, causing the young Eclipse Driver to let out a sigh: how could one think that the understanding of how things actually worked might be unnecessary?
Still, professor Sprout did say that wizarding spellcrafting relied on Arithmancy so, perhaps, he should look into that. He was sure that with Zero's help he would be able to find the equations for the spells he was taught in his classes and, hopefully, knowing these equations would make the spells much easier for him to cast properly...
And while Harry was still deep in his thoughts about this Arithmancy and its possible uses to him, the Herbology Mistress decided to break the silence that filled her office:
"Alright… Is there anything that troubles you, Mr. Potter? Perhaps, there are questions that you'd like to ask me?" She asked, having apparently run out of other questions. Harry stayed quiet for a few moments, before shaking his head. Well, there actually were a few things he probably should've asked his head of the house, but didn't because he wasn't sure how she'd react to him bringing his condition and the associated problems up. "Well then,.." Professor Sprout continued. "If you need anything, my doors are always open for you, Mr, Potter." Nodding her a polite 'thank you', the green-eyed youth wasted no time in vacating the room...
As the door closed behind Mr. Potter, the head of the Hufflepuff house let out a sigh. This meeting didn't go quite as well as she had hoped. The young man was just so guarded, and she couldn't see an easy way to get him to open up and let her - or other members of the staff - help with whatever problems that were clearly troubling him. Hopefully, though, whatever his problems were, they wouldn't cause any real troubles for Mr. Potter himself, her little badgers or the rest of the school.
Letting out a small sigh, the witch picked a piece of parchment and wrote her observations of the boy down, making a special note of how Mr. Potter exhibited some signs of having suffered through prolonged neglect and ostracism in the past. Yes, he did well in trying to hide those, but it wasn't good enough to fool her. Still, Pomona knew that forcing a child to talk about the dark things about their past was not a good idea, and so she let Mr. Potter be until he was ready to confide in her. Nevertheless, both Madam Pomfrey and Headmaster Dumbledore needed to know about it.
Once she was done with taking her notes on Mr. Potter, the Herbology mistress drew her wand and pressed its tip against the Hufflepuff sigil on her table, pushed a little bit of her Magic into it.
"Mr. Truman, would you please tell Mr. Finch-Fletchey to come to my office?" She said into the magical intercom that one of her predecessors installed a century or so ago.
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Draco Malfoy paced back and forth inside the Slytherin common room. He'd been trying hard to come up with a cunning plan to pay that Potter bastard back for humiliating him on the Hogwarts Express and show him his place in the magical world, yet no ideas good enough came to his mind. And this frustrated him greatly. Really, how hard can it be to think up a way to teach that son of a mudblood whore a lesson about respecting his betters?
"Malfoy!" One of the older students snapped. "I swear, if you don't stop scurrying in front of me, I'll curse you into the next week, your father be damned." While Draco was certainly scared by this threat - not that he would ever admit it - it also finally gave him a good idea on how he could get back at Potter.
"Say, Flint." The blonde boy spoke up, doing his best to ignore the glare the older wizard was sending his way. "Don't you think that Potter is being too arrogant? That stupid half-blood is nothing but a waste of magic - why else would the Hat place him with the Duffers? - yet he behaves like he so above everyone else! We need to bring that bastard down and show him where he belongs in this world; under out heels."
"Do I look like a thug for hire to you, Malfoy?" Marcus asked angrily. He might not be the smartest wizard around, but even he could see right through Draco's words: the little bastard was simply looking for someone who'd do the dirty work for him.
"No, of course not." The blond boy tried to save his hide. "But don't you think that we, those sorted into the noble house of Slytherin, are the ones who should be preserving the righteous order of things?" Receiving a grunt that sounded like an agreement, he continued: "And while I would be honored to be the one to put Potter in his place, I'm afraid I might not be right person to make this lesson hard to forget. You, on the other hand, should have no trouble teaching that bastard what happens to those who think too highly of themselves and don't recognize their betters." Flint eyed him for a few moments before giving a resigned sigh.
"Fine." The older Slytherin grunted. "But you'll owe me quite a bit for this, Malfoy." Nodding, Draco turned around and walked away, gleefully imagining the terrible fate that would soon befall Potter. No one ever humiliated Malfoys and got away with it!
~/ *** \~
"And there he is!" Draco told his hired muscle… err… his trusted ally as he finally spotted the loathsome Potter standing further off from the crowd of the first-year Duffers. "Let's teach this half-blood bastard a lesson about respecting one's betters." Letting out an unintelligible grunt of acknowledgment, Marcus Flint drew his trusty wand and began to stealthily approach his prey. He was going to strike fast and strike hard, giving the abhorrent brat no change to defend himself.
As for what spells he planned to use… well, while he would certainly enjoy sending Potter to the Hospital Wing, humiliating him was the primary objective, and the Slugulus Eructo charm was the perfect piece of magic for the job. Grinning nastily, Flint whispered the curse's incantation under his breath before sending a bolt of green-colored magic at the unsuspecting Hufflepuff.
For a brief moment it looked like everything would go according to his plan, but then something unexpected happened. Just as his curse got close to Potter, it suddenly started withering rapidly and soon disappeared completely without ever striking the filthy half-blood. Thinking that this could've been a result of some mistake he unknowingly made when sub-vocalizing the incantation for his curse, Marcus tried again. And he got about the same result: his spell just ...disappeared almost as soon as it got within a few feet from the Potter brat. What was even worse, Potter now knew that he was targeted...
Harry wasn't having a good afternoon. It first began when professor McGonagall didn't dismiss the class until she was done with her lecture - which was good ten minutes after the bell rang. Due to this he was 'late' to lunch and some older 'Puffs occupied 'his' spot at the end of the house table, forcing him to sit with his annoying peers instead. And now he had to wait for professor Quirrell to open the DADA classroom, once again enduring the bothersome company of his loud and immature classmates…
At least he had Zero to keep his mind occupied with some pleasant discussions… Alas, even that didn't last: just as his ever-faithful companion was telling him about some traditions of the Ancient Belka that she knew of, the green-eyed Eclipse Driver felt something drain a little bit of his mana.
「An incoming spell of some sort was destroyed by your anti-magic aura. It appears that you're being attacked, master.」 The Strosek girl informed helpfully. Just a moment passed and another spell dissipated into nothingness under the suffocating might of the Eclipse Factor. So, some bastard indeed dared to attack him… Unforgivable! In an instant, overwhelming anger took over Harry, encasing him in a pillar of ethereal-purple 'fire' while waves of his killing intent flooded the entire corridor, freezing everyone in their places.
Not giving his attacker a chance to recover and hightail, the green-eyed Potter moved in front of him and made him double over with a devastating punch to his gut. Then, without wasting a single moment, he grabbed the Slytherin bastard by the collar of his robes and smashed him into the nearby wall with enough force to lightly crack the stone and give the older boy a concussion… This development seemed to break the people around from their killing intent-induced stupor as multiple cries rose around. Harry however cared not about that; right now all that mattered to him was his vengeance.
"I'm going to fucking rip you apart, piece by fucking piece." He hissed while forming a metal gauntlet around his free arm, further scaring the older boy. Said bastard immediately redoubled his efforts to free himself, but there wasn't anything he could really do against an angry and determined Eclipse Driver, so he remained pinned to the wall and with no way to avert his untimely doom.
"S-Stop!" Someone shouted in their best attempt to sound authoritative. Harry, however, had no desire to listen to that voice and prepared to paint the wall with Slytherin's brains. "I said, stop it!" The speaker repeated much more forcefully, while also shooting a red beam of Magic from his wand. The spell, of course, failed to penetrate the anti-magic aura surrounding the young Potter, yet it still achieved its purpose by drawing his attention away from the unfortunate bastard he was about to do in...
Turning his head to look at whoever dared to raise a wand against him now, he saw that it actually was professor Quirrell. And, for once, the turban-wearing man actually looked the part of a powerful and dependable wizard he was supposed to be instead of a stuttering and quivering mess he usually was… Not that it meant much to Harry consumed as he was by his rage.
"Mr. Potter! Let Mr. Flint go." The DADA professor demanded, his wand trained on the green-eyed Driver and a spell of some sort forming a glowing ball of red light on its tip. He received but a growl in response to his 'request', but that didn't do anything to discourage him. "I said, let. Him. Go." He repeated, staring Harry down like one would do with a wild beast.
The green-eyed mage stared back, engaging the man in a contest of will. Which, to his surprise, wasn't something that he could easily win. And while his anger still burned hot like a Sun, this pause in action was enough to clear his mind from the blood-red fog of his rage a little.
"No." Harry growled lowly. Then, seeing as Quirrell didn't look like he was pleased with that response, he added: "This bastard tried to kill me. I'll destroy him." This, apparently, wasn't something that the turban-wearing professor expected to hear. His surprise, though, didn't last long as he quickly got his wits back.
"Are you absolutely certain about that, Mr. Potter?" He asked, his wand still at ready. "I find it hard to believe that someone would do that."
"It was a prank! Just a prank!" Flint cried out, believing this as his best chance to save himself from the green-eyed monster. He also resumed his efforts to free himself from Harry's vise-like grip, but met no success there.
"You attacked me from behind." The Potter youth countered, his voice low and dangerous. "Sounds more like an assassination attempt to me." Making a short pause to take a breath, he added: "And since you intended to use lethal force against me, I have every right to respond in kind."
"Now, now, Mr. Potter, I find it hard to believe that someone here wants to kill you. This all is just a big misunderstanding. So, please, let Mr. Flint go." Professor Quirrell said while Marcus nodded eagerly. Harry let out a deep sigh: things kept stacking against him and while he could still continue with his original course of action, it would now bring him way more problems than it would be worth.
"Fine." He grumbled, before releasing the older boy - but not before slamming him into the wall again to make sure he learned his lesson about raising a wand against him. "A word of warning: next time I won't stop." Harry growled while showing Marcus his armor-covered fist.
"Mr. Potter!" Quirrell exclaimed. He quickly deflated under the cold stare from the said youth, however… Still he needed to do something and so, letting out a cough, the turban-wearing professor continued: "Now then… Mr. Flint, you've been a student here for a few years, yet you seem to forget that no magic is allowed in the corridors outside of the emergencies that are clearly defined in the school's charter. Let's see if losing Slytherin fifteen points will improve your memory? And, you'll also be serving a detention with me this evening. Please don't forget to change your pants till then." This last bit raised a few laughs from the gathered crowd. Meanwhile, Quirrell continued: "Mr. Potter, while you certainly have your right for self-defense, you've gone way further than the situation called far. Twenty five points will be taken from Hufflepuff for your lack of restraint, and you'll have to serve a week of detentions with Mr. Filch." The Hogwarts' only Eclipse Driver let out an unintelligible sound that showed the extent of his disagreement with his decision. Nevertheless, he nodded in agreement, having figured that doing anything else would only make this all more troublesome.
Of course, just because he agreed to let the Slytherin bastard be, Harry's fury didn't magically disappear. It was still there, burning hot as ever within him and demanding quick release. He needed to do something about it and fast, lest he completely lost himself to his anger and started slaughtering the people around him indiscriminately… Walking up to the nearest window, the green-eyed mage forced it open. Then he jumped onto the windowsill.
"What are you doing, Mr. Potter?" Professor Quirrell asked.
"I need to cool off so I'm leaving." Was the response he got from the young Eclipse Driver, who leaped out of the window a moment later. Immediately, everyone looked out of the windows, hoping to see what happened to the frighteningly violent Potter. Much to their surprise, he appeared to be completely unphased by a twenty foot drop and was already speeding out of sight, moving faster than should be humanly possible.
"...That w-would be another five points from Hufflepuff, for s-skipping one's c-classes." The turban-wearing professor announced after a few seconds of stunned silence. "Now e-everyone, please get into the classroom. The lesson is ab-bout to start." He then called, reminding the young 'Puffs and 'Claws that they still had a DADA lesson to sit through...
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While his questionably-useful host was busy teaching his class, Lord Voldemort occupied himself with thinking over the facts about the Potter brat he learned today. And, based on what he saw, it looked like the boy could somehow neutralize spells aimed at him. That was very powerful defense, as well as the one that could have caused his killing curse to fail catastrophically all those years ago. Was this the 'power he knew not' spoken about in the prophecy? Whatever the case might be, though, dealing with a person capable of canceling spells would be quite troublesome….
Of course, such protection against Magic would do nothing against physical attacks, but… What self-respecting Magic user would even lower himself to fighting in melee? That was what dirty muggles and worthless blood-traitors did to even the odds. A true wizard could always use his Magic to make the lesser beings do what he needs to be done.
And he, Lord Voldemort, was a true wizard, the Greatest One! So, of course, he had no troubles charming whoever he wanted to do his binding. His Imperio curse was rightfully feared as something only a select few people could fight off. He might not need even that, though, thanks to his current host's special talent: Quirinius Quirrell could communicate with and command trolls. The only issue with that laid in how to get the troll and Potter together and not have the Old Fool or his people interfere..
That's all, folks!
Read and Review!
