The Inbetween – By Slytherin's Dragon
A/N: The bank owns my house, my principal investigator owns my work and everything recognizable on this page is owned by the esteemed J.K. Rowling.
Chapter VIII - Wingardium Leviosa
"Blaise? I have a question." Hannah caught up to the dark-haired boy who was flying over the snowy valley behind Harry's flat by accelerating on her own broom.
"What's up, Hannah?" Blaise responded casually, still maintaining his moderate speed.
"I was wondering, why do you assume that you will end up in Slytherin? We haven't even been sorted yet! You behave as if it's been set in stone or written in contract!" Hannah asked.
Her Muggle mother was a well respected lawyer and as a result, she had some knowledge in law that she had grasped from overhearing telephone conversations and from asking her mother about her days at work.
Blaise slowed down to a stop near the ground, as did Hannah.
He shrugged, "Well, if you had a mother who reminded you every day that you would be a perfect Slytherin when you go to Hogwarts, you'd be just like me."
"Does it really matter that much?" Hannah continued, "Or is it some pureblood thing that I am not aware of?"
Blaise sighed. "Well, in some families, like mine - everyone was a Slytherin. So it's kind of expected that I uphold the tradition."
"I am glad my parents don't have a preference." Hannah mused, "My daddy was a Ravenclaw."
The warmth and subject matter of Hannah's comment caught Blaise a little off guard and for a few seconds, Hannah saw Blaise's genuine emotions of distress and sadness on his face. The mask returned soon afterwards.
Blaise kicked off from the ground and soared in the air, leaving Hannah to puzzle over what had just happened.
"Why do you want me here?" A gruff man with a wooden leg, magical spinning eyeball and a partially missing nose strode into a warmly lit room.
"Sit down, Alastor, I have a proposition for you."
Mad-eye Moody grumbled before making his way to the table where the man sat, pouring tea into one teacup. He had met Ivan during his youth, and the man hadn't changed at all.
Not even a hair.
"What is it?" Moody was annoyed. Ivan was one of those people that Alastor did not understand. Alastor liked his world categorized into Dark and Light but Ivan always seemed to be in between.
It irked him to the nth degree.
"And what if I refuse?" Alastor sat down at the wooden chair across from the man.
He remembered the first time he saw Ivan, in Russia, during a complex international top-secret case. Ivan had been an informant, and provided valuable information that had closed the case. Since then, he had seen the man on and off but he had no idea that Ivan was now residing in Knockturn Alley till now.
Ivan smiled.
"Oh trust me; it's an offer you can't refuse."
Alastor looked suspiciously at the man before they launched into particulars. A magical contract was drawn up at the end. Mad-Eye looked suspiciously at the parchment and read it over - multiple times before he picked up the quill from the ink bottle.
He hesitated.
"You know?" Alastor whispered, his gruff exterior was crumbling into pieces.
Ivan nodded solemnly, "I know. She -."
Alastor held up his hand, his face was that of a broken man.
"How in bloody Merlin do you know this?"
Ivan just smiled.
Alastor closed his one good eye and signed beside Ivan's signature.
It was, unfortunately, an offer he couldn't refuse.
Damn the man to hell!
Shortly after acquainting himself with the timid Neville Longbottom, Harry found himself facing the formidable Longbottom matriarch. She was dressed in a vulture stuffed hat, and her ornate bright red handbag might as well provide illumination for the room had it been dark.
"Who are you talking to, Neville?"
Her voice was stern and unyielding. Neville looked extremely nervous.
After a precursory look at Lady Longbottom's mind - her defenses were well set up but Harry caught a few thoughts at the surface - Harry decided to defuse the potentially explosive situation.
He bowed and kissed Lady Augusta Longbottom's hand, in a traditional pureblooded manner. "It is an honour to meet you, Lady Longbottom."
Her stern expression immediately softened to a gentler one. "Ah, you don't see that traditional courtesy anywhere these days. Who are you?"
"I am Harry Grey, ma'am." Harry allowed a smile to grace his face, "Just making acquaintance with your grandson. He's got a fine magical core, if that is what you are worrying about."
Augusta Longbottom was astonished.
Neville had never seen the powers of speech robbed from his grandmother and he sighed in relief when Harry mentioned that he was magical. He had been extremely worried that he had too little magic to be a wizard and he had been living with that burden for many years. He didn't want to shame his family. His relatives had spent much time trying to force an ounce of magic out of him and all they got was a bounce for their efforts.
"I can sense magic, Lady Longbottom." Harry explained vaguely.
"You must be an exceptional wizard, Harry. Few can sense magic in its pure form. Call me Augusta. Lady Longbottom makes me feel my age."
Neville's jaw dropped at Harry's newly created familiarity with his grandmother.
"If you want concrete evidence that your grandson is magical," Harry continued, "I could procure him a wand that would fit his core and show him some basics."
Augusta Longbottom looked thoughtful, "That is a generous offer. I would like more time to consider, if you may."
"Owls addressed to Harry Grey will find me. Good day, Augusta, Neville." Harry nodded at the blond haired boy before leaving Snares and Blossoms.
Harry found himself looking at the mirror in his bathroom. Sometimes, he couldn't believe what he saw in the mirror. He had grown a lot taller since he left the Dursleys and decent regular meals had begun to work their magic on his body. He was still thin, but at least his bones had some fat to cushion them now. His black hair was shoulder length, and the silver hair swept over his forehead gave him a distinctive appearance that made him look older than he really was.
He was definitely glad that he had paid the rather hefty sum of money to get his eyes fixed with magic by a reputable Oculist in Diagon Alley. He had really appreciated that investment when he walked out in the rain the first time. It was nice not having the water cling to his glasses and alter the refractive index - distorting what he saw.
His physical scars from the Dursleys had all vanished, and he found himself cutting less. He found that watching human interaction was another way to feel alive. Sometimes, when he was brewing a potion, he would cut when blood was needed. Most brewers would procure apothecary grade human blood, but Harry preferred his own. Plus, stored blood had an extra ingredient in it - anti-coagulation factors - so the potions brewed weren't as potent as they ought to be. Blood sold sans factors was extremely expensive, as rarely known powerful spells could be used to filter the blood and remove the stuff that caused the blood to clot.
Years of dressing in baggy old clothing had caused his more stylish side to break out. He bought both Muggle and Wizarding attire. He liked to mix and match clothing from both worlds - preferring the nicely cut dress shirts of the Muggle world, and the elegant cloaks and robes of the Magical world. His colours were green, all shades of black, grey and occasionally other colours.
:. Looking sharp there, Master..: Zaliss slithered in and stretched his long sinewy body over the bathroom articles. Zaliss had almost reached his full size, and was now a very intimidating creature. He was still black all over, with the silvery underbelly, but the yellow rune-looking mark on his forehead had intensified in coloration.
If only the Dursleys could see him now.Harry permitted himself a small smile, while stretching his arms upwards.
Hannah was sitting at her desk, in her own room at home. She was laboriously writing an essay for school regarding equal rights issues. Her mind was somewhere else, but her reverie was broken when she heard sharp taps on her window.
An unfamiliar owl - a Northern Hawk Owl, with a white and brown spotted body and greyish-black markings on white feathers on its head was knocking on her window with its darkish yellow beak.
Hannah got up from her simple wooden chair, and opened the window to let the owl in. The owl elegantly stuck out its talons and Hannah untied the piece of parchment. She ran downstairs to the kitchen to fetch water and some leftover meat scraps from previous meals. The owl trilled happily when she got back, immediately sticking its parched beak into the water bowl.
She unfolded the parchment. She recognized Blaise's elegant looking scrawl on the page. (I.e. it looked nice, but was sometimes difficult to make out.)
Dear Hannah,
I am sorry I ditched you the other day at the valley. When you were talking about your father, I saw how your face lit up. It's clear that you have an awesome relationship with your Dad, and I envy you for that. I wish that I had a proper Father, not those temporary flings my mother goes through and discards away with no more importance than banana peels. It would even be nice to know the identity of the man who begot me.
Your friend,
Blaise
PS. This is my owl, Aaron.
Hannah smiled sadly at the letter, before composing her own reply back, her essay that was due the next day, long forgotten.
Harry was waiting beside the fireplace, at the Leaky Cauldron. Today was a quiet day there, with only a few regulars - Harry and his companions ate there very often, and were familiar with the frequent customers. He drummed his long, pale fingers impatiently along the rock of the fireplace. Surely enough, a few days after his encounter with the Longbottoms, Augusta had owled him, saying that she would like to accept his kind offer and that she would be bringing her grandson, today.
The flames suddenly turned green, and flashed.
Augusta Longbottom, with the same hat and handbag strode through, with all the finesse expected of a Lady. Her grandson stumbled out, wiping the soot off his clothes. Harry walked over to receive them, greeting Augusta the same way he did back at Snares and Blossoms.
"It's a delight to see you, Harry." Augusta smiled, "Here's Neville."
"Hi, Harry." Neville shyly greeted. Harry nodded.
"I am just curious, Harry - where did you learn your magic from? You can't be that much older than my Neville here." Augusta asked the dark-haired boy.
Harry replied, "I am home-schooled. My guardian looks after all my lessons and I think, I have the aptitude to help Neville."
Lady Longbottom accepted his answer. "Well, Neville doesn't have many friends - he's too shy. I hope you could help in that regards too. Well, time's a-flying. See you later, Harry, Neville." She stepped back towards the Floo, and was off in a flash of fire.
Harry first took his new charge, Neville, back to his flat, where Hermione was, predictably, reading another book from Harry's filled shelves. He introduced Neville to Hermione. Before Neville could make his greetings back, a silver wolf dashed across the room to sniff at him and the long snake slithered over to see who the newcomer was.
Neville was extremely startled.
"Now, now, guys. Behave." Harry admonished his two familiars.
Heidi ignored him, and Zaliss answered by sticking out his tongue directly at Harry.
He merely shook his head at the immature behavior of his pets.
"Don't worry Neville. They are harmless." Hermione looked amused at the proceedings and placed her Egyptian themed gilded bookmark in the book she was reading. She set it aside.
"Wow, you own a snake and a wolf." Neville recovered his powers of speech, "Cool."
;.. Hello, Neville, we are sorry that we startled you..;Heidi projected her thoughts to Neville, ;..I am Heidi, and I am communicating with you via the mind..;
;.. Oh neat. Can you hear me?..; Neville tried thinking.
Heidi smiled a fearsome grin. ;.. Of course, Neville..;
"So are you ready to get your wand, Neville?" Harry asked. Hermione had retrieved her own cloak, woolly mittens, a cheerful white and red scarf and woolen hat.
"Yeah. I can't wait." Neville smiled at his two friends.
The three exited, Heidi followed them. Zaliss returned his spot beside the fire and wondered why the hell anyone would bother going outside in the harsh winter weather.
It didn't take long for Neville to find his wand - Cherry wood with unicorn hair - thirteen inches. Neville had paid for the wand - five Galleons, and thanked Ivan profusely for his generosity. Neville knew that wands actually cost a lot more than the price that was offered, especially for the best quality wands.
The three spent the next few hours wandering around the shops. Hermione bought herself some potions supplies as the storage cupboard that Harry had set aside for their potion needs was running low. Neville bought himself a fine eagle feather with a fine nib as his new quill and Harry treated all of them to a steaming cup of apple cider inside one of the lesser cafes around Diagon Alley.
Finally, they went to Neville's favourite shop - Snares and Blossoms, where he was at his element. Neville explained to a rapt Hermione about some of the plants both magical and mundane that he knew about and the plants that were growing in his own garden back at the Longbottom House.
Harry was surprised at the change that came to Neville when he was talking about things that he knew - it was almost as if there was a second Neville.
"Okay, so we are going to teach you one charm today." Hermione started when they were all back at the flat.
"A swish and flick." Harry added. He drew a quick sketch of the movements with a blue Muggle marker on a white board that he had recently procured. Neville's eyes widened at the convenience of the Muggle invention.
Harry remembered how in awe Blaise had behaved when he first saw the white board. Hermione couldn't stop laughing at his flabbergasted reaction.
"The incantation is Wingardium Leviosa.Put an extra emphasis on the G of "gardium"." Hermione was in lecture mode.
"It should look like this." Harry lazily flicked his wand at the quill that they were supposed to levitate. He made Neville smile when Harry moved the feather around Hermione and used it to tickle her nose.
"Hey! Harry! Stop it!" Hermione looked indignantly at her friend, while waving her hands frantically in order to grab the feather. The feather was always one step ahead of Hermione's grabbing hands.
It floated away. Neville reached for it and plucked it out of the air and handed it back to Hermione.
Hermione summoned her wand from her holster with the snap of her fingers. "Harry likes to show off, but we normal folks do it like this. Wingardium Leviosa." She swished and flicked in a textbook perfect manner.
The feather rose two meters from its initial starting point.
"You try." Hermione brought the quill down and handed it to Neville. He placed it on the table and pointed his wand to the feather.
Neville looked a little nervous, but he imitated Hermione's precise movements.
Nothing happened.
"Try again." Hermione smiled at the nervous boy, "It took me a few attempts too."
"Try picturing what you want to do with the feather too. That's the most important aspect, contrary to what most people would say." Harry added.
Neville tried a few more times. After what was probably the tenth try, his feather shot up three meters in the air. Neville beamed as the others congratulated him on his first charm.
"Okay now, practice is done. Let's go have dinner." Harry took the feather from Neville when he cancelled his charm on the feather. "Also, when you are at home, try seeing if you could move the feather around and try levitating heavier objects. The step after that would be to levitate multiple objects, and then to move them independently, yet at the same time."
Hermione nudged Neville, "Don't worry; even I haven't gotten the last part of what he said down. It's really confusing."
Neville came back the next week, beaming when he was able to show Hermione and Harry that he could make the feather do what he willed. He also showed off his skills by levitating a watermelon that Harry had bought from the local Tesco's. He was introduced to Blaise and Hannah and the five of them celebrated by having a snowball fight. They all forfeited when Harry charmed his snowballs to stalk them. When the snowballs came within a certain range of their stalk-ee, they would launch themselves at their victims with sniper-like accuracy.
They were all happy with the introduction of Neville to their little group. Hermione was happy that they had someone who knew Herbology very well, since no one else knew too much about it. Neville quickly caught up in spellwork, although potions and transfiguration were not his strong points. Fortunately, Harry had set up some new wards in the brewing area, designed to protect the brewer during potentially hazardous explosions that were always a given risk during brewing.
After much cajoling, Augusta Longbottom finally bought her grandson a broomstick, so he could join the others. Like Hermione, Neville was a cautious flyer and did not have the stomach for the stunts Blaise and Harry pulled off. Augusta had also bought Neville, Trevor the frog, after he showed her his levitation charm. Neville had told Hermione and Harry that his grandma had been thrilled at his first deliberate attempt at magic, but muttered something condescending about Charms when she thought Neville was out of hearing range.
Spring came quickly, as did Hannah's birthday. Everyone chipped in to buy her a broom so she didn't have to borrow her father's old broom. The group started to work a little harder, seeing that it wasn't long until Hogwarts.
Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress walked along the sidewalk, dressed in her Muggle-best on one of the warmest days of June. Everything she wore had her trademark tartan pattern. Ever since her little argument with Albus about his placement of Harry, the Headmaster and the Deputy's relationship had become rather strained. Minerva had begged Albus to check on Harry regularly, but the obstinate, elderly wizard had found innumerable excuses and never did.
But today, she was making calls to future wizards and witches that had grown up from traditionally non-magical families. She finally found the large house that belonged to the Grangers and politely rang the doorbell.
Wendell and Jane Granger answered the door, both of them knowing with almost 100 percent certainty the reason of the visit. They could tell that Minerva was a witch, judging by the way she was dressed and that Hermione had warned them beforehand.
Hermione had found out that Hogwarts traditionally sent teachers to the Muggle parents of magical offspring to assure them that no, magic was not a joke and to convince them to send their children to the castle for their future education from reading Hogwarts: A History. In fact, Hermione had read that book so many times that her copy was starting to become a little dog-eared.
"Wendell and Jane Granger?" Minerva inquired when the couple opened the door.
"That's us." Jane Granger responded.
"I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, of Hogwarts. I am here to tell you that your daughter is -" Minerva started.
Wendell held out his hand, "Magical. We know."
It was Minerva McGonagall's turn to look surprised.
"One of our distantly related relatives came and told us." Jane explained, "We were so relieved. Hermione's been doing little magical displays since she could crawl."
"Ah. Then I presume she will be attending Hogwarts in September?" Minerva asked, regaining her equilibrium.
Wendell answered, "I suppose so. She's been talking non-stop about it."
He was a little glum that his little girl would be going off to a world that neither he nor his wife had a part of. But at the same time, he was excited for her that she would get this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
He sighed. His wife gave him a knowing look.
"Alright then, here's Hermione's Hogwarts letter and ticket for the Hogwarts Express. Her book lists and other equipment required will be written on there." The severe looking Transfiguration professor handed an envelope of old fashioned brown parchment with the Hogwarts crest as the seal.
Wendell Granger took the offered envelope, "We will give this to her as soon as she comes home from school."
Minerva McGonagall allowed herself a rare smile, and bade her good-byes to the Grangers.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Harry James Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts, School of Wtichcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Harry frowned at the letter.
He had been bombarded by the overeager barn owl delivering him the letter when he had been dining outdoors with Blaise at a Wizarding Italian restaurant somewhere in Diagon Alley. Blaise had received his letter five minutes earlier, from a similar species of excited owl.
He sighed. He opened the letter when he had gotten home; it was a dangerous piece of document to keep around him, since very little of what he owned could connect him to his real identity. Plus, he had warded his flat against owls, in an effort to ensure the letter never got to him.
He flicked his finger and felt the familiar feeling of his wand in his hand.
"Incendio."
The hottest of his silver-blue flames streamed out of his wand and incinerated the parchments to ashes.
A/N: We are getting closer to Hogwarts. Minerva isn't too happy with our good friend Dumbledore. And what in bloody hell is Ivan doing to Moody?
Thanks for to my younger sister for looking over my work and for all her and everyone else's encouragement.
Review?
