The Social Riot Machines – Chapter Ten
Harry was absolutely certain Hermione was up to something. She kept glancing around the common room, as if she were waiting for it to empty. Although he was slightly concerned about what his friend was planning –he had already encountered her poorly made knitwear- he refrained from saying anything, just in case there were any eavesdroppers in the area. Knowing that Hermione was trying to be secretive made Harry very nervous, that along with other things. So far, Malfoy had kept quiet about what he had seen, and Harry was able to relax about the ordeal, he didn't think Hermione wanted to talk about that. Ron was half-asleep, but he too appeared to want to talk in relative private. They were now the only occupants, bar Fred and George who seemed to be planning what sounded like a pretty impressive prank on Umbridge. Harry continued his Potion's homework, trying his absolute best to ignore his fidgeting friend.
It was half-past twelve when the others finally stood and left. Hermione practically vibrated with excitement. She waited another fifteen minutes, glancing at the clock every few seconds, before beginning.
"So, Harry, I have a bit of a favour to ask you," Hermione mumbled, and she suddenly looked quite anxious.
"Ask away," Harry instructed firmly, and he hoped it wasn't a request that would cause too much extra agony for him. By this point Ron was completely dead to the world, so they didn't bother whispering.
"Well, basically I feel as if we aren't benefiting from Umbridge's Defence lessons, so I wanted to know if you'd teach us," she trailed off, apprehension saturating her voice.
"I don't think I'd be very good at that, besides you're way more intelligent than I am," Harry protested lightly, wishing to see how hard Hermione pushed the idea. He actually believed it was a fairly decent idea, but it was risky. Death Eater attacks were being reported more and more often in the Daily Prophet, even if the Ministry didn't want to admit who the real perpetrators were.
"Don't underestimate yourself Harry, you and Ron have been doing amazingly this year. I just thought it would be best if you taught us because you have actual experience using the spells. Knowing the theory is all well and good, but nothing beats practise," she elaborated and paused, a small half-smile curling her lip. "Kind of like music," she added, almost as an afterthought.
Ultimately, Harry already knew what his answer was, and knew that the sooner he started, the better.
"Just you two, or are there others that are interested?" He asked, already feeling strangely positive. The bright grin that lit up Hermione's face made the threat seem far less serious.
"There are about twenty of us, most of them are OWL or NEWT students, though there are some other years in there too." Hermione informed him cheerfully.
"I'll get started tomorrow then, I have a few ideas already. I'll let you know when it's all set up," he said, failing to keep the excitement out of his voice. It was nice to take a break from music now and then.
The stack of books that Harry had borrowed from the library was larger than any he had seen Hermione produce, and that in itself had him worried. Most of them were Defence related, but in order to avoid arousing suspicion he also borrowed Herbology, Potions and Transfiguration books. Hidden sneakily amongst his curricular tomes were two volumes about apparition. He figured it was a useful skill to learn, and to perhaps teach to his unnamed group. He had realised he forgot to pick up an advanced Charms text, and had to sprint back to the library to obtain one before curfew. Madam Pince was not at all impressed by his sudden and rather noisy reappearance.
Once the common room emptied, he began reading up on the Protean Charm in order to create a means of communication between group members. Despite its painful and horrific nature, Harry thought the basis for the Dark Mark was an interesting idea. With hushed whispers he practised the difficult spell. It was a frustrating process, much like learning the Patronus Charm in his third year, except this time he didn't have a patient and knowledgeable teacher to help him through the infuriating battle. It took him several hours of practise and botched attempts before he had the result he was looking for. He just needed to procure supplies and then he was good to go. It was in the early hours of a Saturday morning so Harry felt fairly confident in slinking out of the grounds. He knew the common assumption would be that he was hiding wherever it was the other students thought he went during the times he said he was in the music room.
The only resources he had on him where the two books on apparition along with his invisibility cloak. The grounds were cold and silent as he carefully made his way to the Whomping Willow, trying not to slip on the sludgy, icy mud.
As soon as he was safely inside the Shrieking Shack, he removed his cloak and collapsed onto the dusty, broken sofa. When the dust had settled, and his sneezing halted, he took the first book out of his bag and began reading. Harry found that the theory wasn't too complex, and according to the book apparition could probably be mastered in a matter of days should the reader be dedicated enough. The text stated that in order to apparate, the witch/wizard must have a destination in mind, one that was visualisable was apparently preferable. Secondly, so as to reach that destination, they must be determined to move. Yet too much determination, too much force behind the internal command led to a number of rather gruesome looking injuries. Harry didn't particularly want to replicate any of the accidents shown in the book. Finally, deliberation –the desire to move should be strong but not hasty, speed comes with practise, the book warned sternly.
Following the book's advice, he drew a large circle in the dust and then stepped back five lengthy strides. Feeling more than a little foolish, he stared at the dust ring and focussed on the desire to be in that space. He turned on his heel. Immediately, he knew he'd done something wrong. Harry tumbled to the floor, clutching his left shoulder, it almost felt as if he'd been clubbed by a troll. He realised that maybe doing something that required a very specific type of concentration wasn't the best of ideas when he hadn't slept at all the previous night. Regardless of his misgivings about continuing whilst he was running on fumes, he picked himself up and tried again. It was the fifth, possibly seventh or eighth attempt before Harry began to lose confidence in his ability to learn new things. As a last ditch effort, he let the animated yet serene feeling he always experienced whilst playing overtake him, and he spun once more. A resonant crack filled the room as he was flung off his feet. Harry wasn't quite sure how to react. On the one hand, it was the closest he'd gotten to actually apparating, however it wasn't quite the sensation that had been described in the manual, but it was certainly something. After some time of contemplation, he decided to stop for the day, he was tired already and he supposed that having lax concentration wouldn't help his apparition efforts. Even though his position on the floor was quite uncomfortable, he couldn't help but begin to fall asleep, having gone without for two nights due to his research.
He awoke some time later amidst the dark and the gloom, his back stiff and sore. Reluctantly, he pulled himself up from his impromptu resting place, deeply unsatisfied with the progress he had made that day. Harry realised he had overestimated himself, and probably needed a much more refreshing sleep than the one he'd just experienced. Inevitably, things were most likely being said about his lack of attendance at the day's meals, and he sincerely hoped he hadn't missed dinner. He couldn't say he'd be overly impressed with himself if that was the case. Hurriedly, he brushed the dust off his clothes, noted the bloodied tear in his white jeans, and shoved his books into his bag. When that was done, he scrambled through the trapdoor, and sprinted –as well as one could sprint whilst crouching to avoid scraping one's head on the low rock ceiling- back through the passage. He prayed that he would be able to avoid the Willow's branches and scampered through the small opening.
The whip like twigs whistled past his head as he dashed toward the school. In his haste, Harry failed to spot the patch of ice that he had evaded that morning and skidded, his arms flailing wildly as he tried to regain his precarious balance. It didn't work. He tumbled, mud splattering as he landed on the grass. Furiously, he got up and stalked off, as if the mud had slipped him up on purpose. It was all very silly, he thought as he neared the entrance.
Luckily the evening meal was nearly over, he found as he peered inside the Hall. He was fairly grateful, as it meant less people could stare at him while he was in embarrassingly dirty and blood-stained state. Harry helped himself to food, thankful for the warmth and looked around the Hall. Dumbledore and Snape were conversing quite animatedly, well, to Harry it seemed as if they were having a slight disagreement. Even from where Harry was sitting he could pick up on Dumbledore's mischievous demeanour. By the end of the meal, Harry was quite optimistic, he was positive he'd be able to apparate by the end of the next day, and then it would be a matter of hours before preparations for the Defence group were complete, and he really did believe that the sooner it was finished the better.
Contentedly, he trekked back up to Gryffindor tower, listening carefully as he did, in order to avoid Mr Filch and Mrs Norris. It really wouldn't do for him to be caught and put in detention for tracking mud through the corridors, especially as he had supposedly spent the day in the music room. He was almost certain that he'd be going straight to bed as soon as he got back up to the dormitories.
Hey there readers, just wanted to say, thank you for reading this far.
My first order of business is to announce that there will be some minor changes to the previous chapters occurring, but nothing that really warrants you going back and rereading if you don't want to, a list of the changes will probably be at the beginning of the new chapter as I think some of them have relevance to what is going on.
Which brings me quite nicely onto the next chapter. I actually had the idea for Chapter 11 whilst writing 10, so I've already half finished 11, so maybe a sooner update, who knows, it might even be tomorrow, seeing as I have a free lunchbreak, and thats usually when I write fanfiction.
Lastly, would anyone be interested in betaing this fic? My grammar is usually okay, and spelling isn't too bad, its just noticing when I've edited a sentence and then left part of the original in there so it doesn't make sense, you know, that kind of thing that I can't do very easily because of my concentration skills :p
Pocky/Mikado are available for all who review *winkwinknudgenudge*