Disclaimer; if I was J.K Rowling then this would be much better written and you, would be finding out who the main villain is in this story from whoever turns up in Chapter 13.
Chapter 10
Well, I thought to myself, there is one thing I am sure about so far it has been a hell of a summer. Something I had never expected or dreamed of when I stepped of the Hogwarts express; about seven weeks ago. I had learnt so much and changed to, Sebastian told me the other night I was not the boy he once knew. I wasn't sure if I should take that as a complement or an insult, though seeing as afterwards he muttered thank god under his breath. Now though after six long weeks of working hard every day, sweating away in the heat, bent over boiling hot cauldrons brewing away, followed by Seb's draconian spell chaining methods until I was a sweaty mess, yes I had changed. Sebastian called it, 'my summer of growth' I didn't agree. Katie Bell had what I liked to kindly refer to as, 'a summer of growth' last year and the comparison left me feeling oddly uncomfortable. Remus, on the other hand, in pursuit of his oddly whimsical nature had called it my 'coming of age'. I on the other hand thought they were both being a touch too poetic, this was my summer and if they insisted on having a name for it than we, it was my summer of sweat.
I cracked my neck absentmindedly, one week of summer left. I glanced over at the impressive building in front of me; it was 9:59am by my count. Taking in the building I couldn't help but be impressed, it looked almost cathedral like with a couple of spires and seamless gothic aesthetics rounded off nicely with a few gargoyles here and there, what really caught my eye was the entrance way. The door appeared to be made of a solid stone block but it was the words that caught my eyes though, à l'éternel, la vie passe en un clin d'œil, I read, translating it with ease, but finding it still didn't make much sense. I shook my head and with a small smile I cast my mind back over the last few weeks. It had its highs and lows, but for the most part, with the summer nearly over, I was happy.
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For what felt like hours I just sat there, staring at the letter. Half numb and the other half not really understanding what it said. True Hermione's letter was, understandably I suppose, a little cold but this, this was another level. It was typical Ron as well, right down to how I was apparently, a great bloody git among several other things in an extensive list that went on for a good 6 inches of a 8 inch letter. Although I had to admit to myself it wasn't really a surprise, I couldn't help but feel more than a little upset. I've always known that Ron had a bit of a temper; it was just, well never really aimed at me before. There was something though, something that stood out above all his nasty little insults, one thing that really hit home; he said I'd made his mum cry.
Mrs Weasley was someone I truly thought of as a proper parent, when I had turned up unannounced after being willingly kidnapped from the Dursley's, she took me in and treated me as if I was one of her own family and that, not to be to girly, did mean a lot to me. If I had made her cry I really must be some kind bastard, or was I? I knew Ron would be unhappy that I wasn't coming over but why would she be so upset? Did she think it was really awful that I wanted to stay here and study over the summer? This is the same woman who is so proud of perfect Percy, it just didn't sound right. What did Dumbledore say to her anyway? Was she even really upset? Could Ron truly be that bitter? I shook my head throwing the letter down onto the desk with a frown.
"It's always the same", I muttered to myself, "Plenty of questions, but never any answers." Anyway I rationalized; it was too much to think about. Right now, I just wanted to destroy something and luckily enough I had found the perfect spell, in my mum's old spell journal.
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Later Miss Figg had offered me some of her usual fine advice, wise words like 'Not to worry Harry' and 'Give him time to let his anger run its course, speak to him when you're both level headed, once you return to school.' It was sound advice, so naturally I ignored it but after sending two more letters; both of which came back with Hedwig looking ruffled and the letters unopened, I decided she might just be on to something. If he wanted to be like that then I would let him, there was no use worrying about something I had no control over. I thought to myself rather maturely, as I was stabbing his letter, quite viciously with a sharpened quill.
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As the weeks passed I found that even with that little drama going on in the background my learning had been taken up a notch and was moving along quite smoothly. My Charms and Transfiguration spell work was really moving on, both heading towards the end of fifth year in standard spells. The funny thing was; the more spells I became proficient in, the easier the next spell seemed to be to learn. It was as if learning magic had the snowball effect, I had theorised to myself. All I had needed was a little push, and as it went along it picked up more magic, the bigger it got and the quicker it rolled.
One thing that really stuck out for me, more than anything else, was the first time I managed to successfully push my magic into my eyes, it was something else. I'd been practicing non-stop in my room and then about two weeks ago it happened. I was looking out the window, towards the setting sun when it happened the sensation was hard to put into words; as if my eyes had widened and were taking everything in. I didn't just see the yellow and orange of the setting sun but every shade in between, looking across the road I could make out the shape of each leaf on an old oak tree, all uniquely individual; each one dancing its own dance in the wind, it was truly amazing.
I forced myself to pull my eyes away from the window and the dancing leaves and turned towards the mirror and then just stared in amazement. My eyes were seemingly aglow, shining a bright emerald green, moving closer to the mirror I studied them closely letting out an involuntary gasp. The whites of my eyes had somehow turned a pale green as well, almost as if my iris had expanded outward. Then suddenly without warning my eyes began to sting and through these watering eyes I watched as things reverted back in on themselves. In the blink of an eye I was staring at a slightly depressing, blurry image of myself. One that I recognized even without my glasses on, I couldn't help but looking around and noticing how everything seemed just a little duller.
When I told Sebastian, he had been delighted and explained to me how I had overcome even his highest exceptions. He then limited me to only practicing pushing my magic and spell chaining for the next week. Telling me that next, he would start on something I would need this coming school year.
Remembering the time when we had started on the new lessons and how I couldn't help but be a little disappointed. "Learn a language!" I snapped, respectfully of course, this was not what I had been expecting. "What good is that going to do anyway, it will take me ages and I'll never be done by school?"
"No Harry, two languages, French and Bulgarian," He replied. Then without missing a beat, eyes shining as if laughing at me, he said, "And I imagine that if you work hard, you will be proficient in both by the time you leave for Hogwarts."
Seeing my doubtful look he continued, "Harry, language is not a true barrier for gifted magicians such as our selves. Why I myself can speak fluently in fifty-two languages and Albus had mastered over one hundred the last time we spoke, well civilly anyway, and that", He paused for a second, "Was thirty odd years ago." He smiled at me before going on, "To learn a language Harry, all you have to do is listen to it."
For the next week he drilled me constantly both forcing me to magically listen to his voice as he went through words and phrases first in Bulgarian then English before finally French then having me repeat it twice. Whenever I complained, all he would say was, "This was the part of my training that I wouldn't understand or enjoy", just as he had promised me.
After only a week was through, I couldn't help but be impressed with my progress. It seemed as though information was easier to recall when I listened magically or it could have had something to do with some simple memory potions I had brewed. Even though I was nowhere near fluent; I could speak in what Sebastian called broken Bulgarian, though if that was what he considered broken, then admittedly my French was what I happily considered to be shattered.
Before I knew it we were in the last week of august. Yesterday, Master Figg gave me have another shot at the Furnunculus potion. The first time around I had made two changes, now I saw an easy seventeen changes I could make to the process and I honestly didn't know how I overlooked them before. Afterwards Master Figg had pulled me aside, a wolfish smile on her face, she spoke only three words. The words I had been hoping for and dreading at the same time.
"You're ready Harry."
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That was last night, and today I'm here, at the Alchemy & Potions guild headquarters. I looked up again, "à l'éternel, la vie passe en un clin d'œil - to the everlasting, life passes in a blink of an eye" I muttered to myself. It sounded rather profound, but even in plain English I still found it puzzling. The rough sound of stone grinding on stone captured my attention, more anyway than the polite cough I could hear, looking towards an elderly man in front of me standing just inside the rather ornate archway.
He was about the same height as me, with a beaming smile and teeth so white that they shined like the top of his bold head. His large kind eye's seemed to hold the warmth you would associate with one of his large jovial stature but at the same time shone with hidden intelligence, By far though, his most prominent feature was his large moustache, one that I just couldn't help but comparing to two tusks from a walrus.
"Good to see you young Harry, good to see you." He said warmly, stepping forward and grasping my hand before seeming to remember himself, though never ceasing in his action of shaking my hand. "Oh, how rude of me, let me introduce myself, Horace Slughorn at your service my boy. Now come along we mustn't keep the Grand Masters waiting well, not too long anyway." He winked at me, his smile somehow widening even further. Before turning on his heel and striding through the large ornate seemingly solid stone doors.
Swiftly I followed in his wake, as we passed through what must be several large function rooms, I couldn't help but be slightly distracted. Most of the walls lined with portraits, some empty but mostly full their eyes following my every move, some catching my eyes with a knowing look, others happily pretending to sleep as their eyes followed me. Ahead Horace moved at a surprisingly quick pace for one of his size and age, not pausing until we came to a set of huge doors with two larger than life portraits on each side, framing the doors. One face I recognised almost immediately, not needing to see the shining golden placard mounted on the wall beside it, Nicholas Flamel. I looked away, on one side I read the placard, Perenelle Flamel. Both paintings stared down at me, I couldn't help but slightly baulk under the gaze of the two ageless masters judging eyes.
Bang, Bang, Bang.
Bloody hell, I must have jumped about a foot in the air, quickly sparing the roundish man a sharp look, that did nothing to quell his apparent joy and entirely in my opinion inappropriate chuckle. I composed myself, waiting with bated breath. I had to pass; I had to show them just how good Master Figg is, how it doesn't matter if she was a squib or not. A strong resolve seemed to settle within me, I could do this.
There was a loud click as the door opened slightly, an old voice spoke through the door from the room within, "Enter Apprentice Potter."
As I took a nervous step forwards a hand slapped down on my back, turning I looked at Horace. "Good luck Harry, not that you will need it from what old Figg tells me", He said. Then with one final nod and smile he turned and left me.
Taking a step forward into the room, I kept my head down breathing deeply, taking one step at a time. Repeating silently over and over again what had become my mantra, 'I can do this, I can do this', I reached the centre of the room then looked up.
'I can do this, I can do thi...crap, I can't do this, I can't do this.'
Fifteen wizards and witches sat around me their tall chairs forming a semi-circle all of them staring down at me, each one with different expressions on their face. Taking a quick glance around, I could see a well stocked potions bench with several different sized cauldrons; all haphazardly placed around the table. Licking my lips, in what I decided, must be a newly discovered nervous habit I made to start to the potions table, before an ice cold voice rang out effectively freezing me in place.
"Well, Apprentice Potter, I do hope you're not here to waste our time." I looked up as she spoke, her face seemed to twist, a nasty frown forming at the same time as a sneer, looking for all the world as if she was insulted by my mere presence. It was quite odd really, looking at her well, sneer and frown at the same time. Twisting her face into an expression of her own making, possibly called a snown. I could also see a look of raw emotion, it was like she really wanted to hate, which in itself was unusual. The Snape's and Malfoy's of this world just hated me, unconditionally. It seemed unfortunate for me though, as I quickly noticed it was a look that was mirrored by several others, not the snown of course, but the raw emotion. It was a look of loss and anger; and it really didn't make me feel any more comfortable then old Snape glare.
Realizing belatedly that she may have actually been asking a question, instead of just making a Snape like comment I bowed my head. I had to do this for Master Figg maybe showing a little humility would help my case, but if only I knew what it was for.
"No High Master", I said. My voice came out sounding more confident and respectful. That, I felt, was a rather useful skill of mine. Bluffing that is, maybe I should take up cards; the thought came and went quickly in this company.
"Good!" She snapped, "Head to the table." I moved to the table finding myself suddenly surrounded by all fifteen chairs when I got there. I licked my lips again, yeah definitely a nervous habit, but with over half of them seemingly baying for my blood who could blame me.
The next twenty minutes were I have to say some of the scariest of my life, well scariest that didn't including people or monsters trying to kill me. Question after question came at me. No matter what or how I answered it wasn't in enough detail which in turn led to another question. Finally I was instructed to prepare three simple potions, as luck would have it, one of them just so happened to be the Furnunculus potion. It was tricky but in an effort to impress, instead of brewing them separately I brewed them concurrently, making changes to all three potions as I went. Before I knew it one and a half hours after walking into the room I was done, and if the looks I was receiving were anything to go by they were all impressed, well nearly all impressed.
"It seems as though Severus was wrong about you, Apprentice Potter, you do have some skill." Her words seemed to take a lot out of her and if anything looked even more upset then before. I turned away, only to hear a slight gasp and some mumbling some glances thrown behind me.
I let out a sigh. I could see it clearly in my mind's eye, as she sat there leering evilly at me, about to curse me into nothingness with me unable to do anything but turn and face the proverbial music. Slowly I turned around expecting the worst only to find me facing her back? She, it seemed, had apparently turned her chair so she faced away, quite literally turning her back on me.
Before this summer I would have possibly frowned and defiantly looked confused but after countless hours with Sebastian I knew the significance of this. In a formal setting like the Wizengamot or indeed an apprentice test, to turn you back on someone was indicating well, in layman's terms that they hated you. I have to say it threw me a bit. It is considered one of the gravest insults you can receive in polite society but I didn't know why. I mean it was stupid; I had never even met this woman before today. Sebastian had of course gone on to explain the various response's one could make to this shocking action. I could turn my back in response, this would of course start a family feud, I could challenge her to a duel, a duel of honour; which could also start a family feud. I could accept the insult by nodding my head, in which if I remember correctly would brand me a coward. There was of course no movement or action I could make that signalled you didn't know what the hell was going on, "stupid bloody inbred politics" I muttered to myself, staring at her back, looking for the answer to a question I didn't even know.
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Shouts of "Congratulations Harry" assaulted my ears as I entered the room, looking around the room I took in the smiling faces before my eyes are drawn just above their heads; I couldn't help but feel slightly touched, there was a floating banner proudly proclaiming; HARRY POTTER THE-BOY-WHO-BREWED.
I was back at Master Figg's, my apprentice robes slightly change and a rather smart golden pip on each shoulder clearly showing my newly elevated status, as a Learned Apprentice. The gloss of the day had been slightly taken off by that strange woman in the assessment but even she had agreed that I deserved my promotion. The beaming faces of Master Figg, Remus and Sebastian were infectious, I soon found myself with a similar expression stretched across my face. I could forget about that grumpy old woman; Master Toowele, I think that was what Horace had called her as we were leaving the guild headquarters, forget about her, for now anyway.
After a feast fit for a king, the reminder of the night was spent for the most part in pleasant conversation. Well, until Master Figg found Remus and Sebastian had been slipping me some mead, quite cunningly in some old Butterbeer bottles. This led to both wizards cowering and being dressed down by a magic less old woman; as she wore her dressing gown and slippers - which I had to say, in my semi drunken state was just about the funniest thing I had ever seen.
The highlight of that night though came at the very end of the night. Moments before Sebastian left he pulled me over to the corner. With a small wobbly smile on his face he spoke, "Well done Harry. I've got you a nice little gift, just something to celebrate you ascending to a learned apprentice. I managed to get us a couple of tickets for the world cup. I'm quite good friends with the minister of magic, and well, when I said I wanted tickets for the two of us let's just say he made some room for us, in the top box of course." He smirked, pulling out two golden passes, handing one to me.
"I didn't know you knew Fudge so well Sebastian that was nice of him to..." I was stopped by his hand as it good naturedly messed up my hair, in almost a fatherly fashion. I didn't quite know what to do, I almost wanted to hug him or cry. It was the first time anyone had ever well, ruffled my hair. I settled though for manly batting his hand away, adding a good natured, "Geddoff", as I did. Merlin that's it, I decided, no more of this bloody mead its gone to my head made me all emotional; stupid alcohol.
"No harry, I got these off young Gorgavich; he's the Bulgarian minister of magic. A dear old friend of mine, he owed me a favour after helping him out with a pack of rabid wolves a few years ago." His smile took on a somewhat sinister and gleeful expression for a moment before seeming to come back to normal. "He doesn't much like Fudge, so having the boy-who-lived sitting by his side would be a bit of a political coup as well." With a muttered see you tomorrow and a pop he was gone.
As I stumbled up what seemed to be a longer than normal staircase to bed, only a little later that night with a faint glow seeming to radiate off my nose, I couldn't help but think, even with that stupid old woman, today had been a perfect. Falling onto the bed my grin grew I'd loved this summer, I'd loved learning with Seb and Master Figg but most of all I loved mead.
A/N. Hello, I am sorry at the time it took to update, but I found myself rather busy in the build up to Christmas. The next chapter should not take half as long now that I am back into it. I would like to extend to my Beta Dazzler1 a huge thank you for putting up with me and thanks to you to, yes you. Thank you for reading and possibly taking the time to review.