I don't own Harry Potter nor do I own Knowledge is Power from which my stories origins came from.
Dumbledore is a genius.
The notebook that he'd given Harry was some of the most interesting shit he'd read in a long time. Most of the information was, as the the Headmaster said, educated guesses, but those guesses just so happened to be so ingenious that it surprised Harry that most people thought the Headmaster insane. And then Harry got to the page that was completely covered in drawings of candy, he then was back to thinking that Dumbledore was dropped on his head sometime in his life.
Some of the terms were completely foreign to Harry, which lead him to pick up at least two dozen more books in Knockturn Alley. The topic in the notebook that caught Harry's eye most was about a ward regarding blood magic, or in other words, a blood ward.
The blood ward was fueled by sacrifice, the sacrifice of one human life for another. It couldn't be done against a person's will however, one wizard or witch had to willingly give up their life for someone else. It was, actually, probably the simplest blood ward in existence. It was less of a blood ward and more of it's own brand of protection, an intent ward you could say.
The ward actually occurred a lot more than one would think. It's just that the ward was such a guarded and secret magic, that no one knew about it.
The ward did not require any runes or wand waving, the ward itself was anchored to one's blood. It was formed spontaneously and was incredibly strong. Perhaps even strong enough to stop a killing curse.
Seeing as blood magic of any sort was frowned upon by pretty much the whole world, made it so that there was almost no information on the ward. Though, it would be kinda hard to test a ward that required a willing human life in order to be cast. Harry couldn't see that there would be many volunteers that would eagerly step up to the job of testing the ward.
It was this ward that Harry thought was the reason for his mother's condition. His Father, James, sacrificed himself for Lily which caused the blood ward to come into effect and protect her. The ward would also be the most likely cause for Longbottom's survival. Alice Longbottom probably protected her son from Voldemort's killing curse which caused the ward to come into effect and stop the killing curse from affecting Neville. But why was Neville awake and well while Lily was in a coma?
The question frustrated Harry to no end.
But, despite now being extremely frustrated, Harry was happy. He now had a place to start, a path to follow.
"Harry! Can you come here for a second?" Remus called from downstairs.
Harry sighed in annoyance, this was his study time. "I don't really want to! What is it?" He called back.
"There's someone here to see you and I think that you'll like who it is."
That prompted Harry's interest. There were only three people who came to see him, Shannon, Cedric, and Max. Max was already here while Shannon and Cedric would rather be around Max than himself.
"Harry, over here!" Remus called from a corner booth. Sitting in the booth with him was a man who looked to be around fifty, he had a beer belly and was balding. He seemed to be in very good spirits however as he quickly got out of the booth to shake Harry's hand.
"Peter Branton, Mr. Potter. I really must say that I am delighted to meet you." He said joyfully.
Harry looked at the man oddly (not that he noticed) and turned to Remus questionably.
"Peter here is one of the English National Quidditch Team scouts." He clarified.
Harry was surprised, 'What would a Professional Scout want with me?... Unless... Oh you've gotta be kidding me.' Harry thought
"You want me to join the National Team?"
Instead of being surprised, Peter looked happier, "Quick as a whip, aren't you Harry? And yes I would like you to join."
"Uhh, why?" Was the intelligent response.
"Robert Beach," Branton answered, "has received irreparable damage to his left arm, ending his Quidditch career earlier than we would have liked." Harry was shocked, England's best chaser, nicknamed "the cannon" for his super powerful throws, had his career ended by an arm injury?!
"Ok, but why me? There definitely must be better choices." Harry asked, still disbelieving.
Peter laughed jollily, "My boy, clearly you doubt you own skills. You are the best chaser currently at Hogwarts and frankly one of the best I've seen in years. Your shots are not only accurate, they are almost as strong as a professional's. But that's not why we picked you, you have that little extra something that I think we need. Quidditch isn't all about being the strongest or best flying skills, it's about creativity. Being able to think outside the box, and you've got it. Why, the last person that I saw with your kind of skill was also a Potter."
Remus blinked in surprise, "James never went professional."
"Just because he didn't doesn't mean we didn't offer." Peter said sadly, "He was sorely tempted, but with the war going on and all, he saw that his talents would be better suited towards being an auror." back to his jolly mood he continued, "But luckily for us, there is no longer a war going on."
"What about school?" Remus asked
"I'm sure we can work out a schedule that will fit to everyone's needs. Why I think Bulgaria has recently just gotten a seeker around your age."
The two adults looked to Harry for a reaction, there was none. Just a thoughtful expression. "Should I accept," He began, "what is the pay like?" he asked, and Remus almost fell out of the booth he was sitting in. Harry was asked to play for his country, an honor people would normally kill for, and he asks about is the pay?!
"Oh! That's something I forgot to mention. Should you accept, Mr. Potter, you wouldn't be immediately put on the team. If I had my way you definitely would but unfortunately, I don't have the final decision. This is merely me asking you to come to the tryout where you will be compared to other Chasers from all around England." And then as an afterthought he added, "Your pay is actually random, it depends on how well you play."
The scout mentally went over the chaser pay in his head before answering, "The current rate for our chasers, from memory, is three thousand galleons per goal, fifteen hundred galleons per goal assist, five hundred galleons per interception, twenty five thousand galleons should we win the game and ten thousand galleons if we lose," he said, grinning at the gob smacked expressions on Remus's and Harry's faces. "There's also the basic ten thousand galleons a month salary when we are simply training and no matches occur. The training is intense and you should be compensated for the hard work you are putting forth for your country." he said, as the two listening were still very much shocked. The galleon to pound ratio was ⅕! If Harry won one game he got 125,000 pounds! (AN:/ 251,750 U.S. Dollars for Americans)
Peter chuckled, "Yes, new players usually react the same. Quidditch is a very popular sport with very few skilled players, and therefore it pays quite well, don't you think? After all, most games can pull one hundred thousand fans with ease." he said with a smile, as Harry and Remus snapped out of their stupor.
"I'll go to the tryout, when is it?" Harry asked immediately
"Two weeks from now, be there at nine o'clock sharp." The jolly scout got up, shook Harry an Remus' hand, then left without another word.
Remus turned to Harry and was about to speak but was cut off.
"HARRY! This is so cool! My best friend is going to be a professional chaser!" Max, who had been listening into the entire conversation from the neighboring booth, said excitedly. He then proceeded to skip/jump around the inn to the amusement of the occupants.
"Why did you hire him again?" Harry asked his bemused guardian.
"He's your friend and was the first to offer. I couldn't just say no could I?"
"You definitely could have, but it's too late now."
"Do you think you could get him to, you know," Remus gestured to the gleeful boy who was actually somehow starting to frighten occupants with his skipping, "get him to... um... stop."
Harry shrugged his shoulders, "He's your employee, deal with it." Harry left for his room, planning on doing more research on the blood ward. That idea was immediately ditched when he saw a figure standing in said room.
"A Professional Quidditch Player at the age of fourteen is unheard of Mr. Potter, I must congratulate you." The figure said
In a flash, Harry had his wand trained on the man standing near his desk studying the notebook Dumbledore had given him. What is it with strangers making surprise visits today? The Man was around five foot six inches tall, his hair was snow white which was odd since his body seemed to be that of a fairly muscular twenty year old.
"Who the fuck are you?" Harry said threateningly.
The Man turned to face Harry completely, his face had no extraordinary features except for the scar running from just above his eyebrow to just under his eye. "But I think you are no ordinary fourteen year old." he continued ignoring Harry's question, he then seemed to observe Harry and the wand trained on him, "Yes, yes I think Albus was right. You are perfect."
Harry was very creeped out by the comment (although Harry didn't disagree, he was perfect). And Albus who? The Headmaster maybe? "Who the fuck are you?" He asked again
"10 ½ inches, bonsai tree, phoenix heartstring, thestral hair, nundu whisker, and a rod of Mithril. A most interesting wand you have there Harry." The man said scaring Harry even more, only three people knew that information and this dude wasn't one of them. How the fuck did he know? "How I knew that information is irrelevant, who I am is irrelevant, everything you think you know no longer matters."
Ok, now the guy wasn't making any sense. "Tell me who the fuck you are!" Harry shouted
The man tilted his head to the side like a curious dog, "I told you, who I am is irrelevant."
"It bloody well is relevant to me! You've broken into my home and are going through my things!"
The man sighed, "This is why I cut myself off from the world long ago." He said to himself, "Young people tend to care too much about the little things. Very well, I've gone by many names. But my most famous one is Nicholas Flamel."
Ok, so now the crazy dude is the most famous alchemist to ever exist. That made things a bit more interesting.
"Y-You're Nicholas Flamel?" said a flabbergasted Harry, the man nodded his head. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Harry said without thinking.
Nicholas didn't react, he just studied Harry like science project before answering "That would take a bit longer to answer, but in short, I need your help Harry."
"You need my help?" Harry looked at him oddly, "You are one of the most famous wizards to ever exist, you have an unlimited supply of money, anyone on earth would be willing to help you."
"This isn't the kind of help you can buy." Nicholas took a seat in Harry's desk chair, "I can't tell you what I need help with. If I told you now, you would most likely back out of the challenge."
Harry stared at the legendary alchemist for a full minute, Nicholas didn't seem to mind. He actually did have all the time in the world, "Ok, let's just say I do decide to help you in whatever it is you need 'help' with." Harry took a seat on his bed, "What's in it for me and how could I even begin to try to do something if I don't know what it is? And who is Albus?"
"Albus is the Headmaster of Hogwarts, obviously." He paused, trying to remember what he was going to say next, "You can't know what it is, not until I'm completely positive you're up for it." He paused for a second then smirked, "As for what's in it for you, you get one of the worlds most famous and most wealthy wizards on your side to help you with whatever you want."
Help with whatever he wanted, now that is an offer that even Harry would be crazy to refuse. Harry was well aware that accepting an offer from Nicholas would, most likely, greatly speed up his work. Maybe even let him use the Philosopher's Stone to cure his mother, or (since he was an alchemist of great prominence) help him find a cure through alchemy.
"Can I use the Philosopher's Stone?" Harry asked
Flamel turned to look out the fake window (which was enchanted to show a mountain range). "Immortality and unlimited wealth are overrated," Nicholas said, "they are more of a curse than a-"
Harry cut him off, "I don't want to use the stone on myself! I want to use it on my mother, to cure her."
Nicholas still looked out the window, he seemed to be contemplating something."Yes your mother, I know of her condition. But unfortunately the stone, even if I let you use it, would not cure her of her fate. The stone actually only does the two things it is most known for, prolonging life and transmuting metal into gold. It does not heal like most people believe."
Well that sucks.
"I cannot offer a cure to you," he continued, "but I can offer the means to find it."
Harry sat in silence, thinking over what the man wanted. He offered a great deal, but it was a gamble. The 'help' that he wanted was probably an impossible task of some sort, the sort that could end in Harry's death. He still couldn't think of a reason why the man would need his help. But Harry wasn't the kind to back down from a challenge, especially when said challenged ended in helping his mother. Fuck it, the reward outweighed the risk.
"I'm in."
Nicholas smirked, "There is just one more thing I forgot to mention." He said it with a wicked edge to his voice, Harry almost shivered. "I need you to learn how to fight."
Alright sick, Harry actually liked fighting. This was a good thing. "Well that's good, because I actually was trying to teach myself how to fight. I guess I already got a head start."
The alchemist's smirk increased, Harry was actually quite frightened. "Not magical fighting, you'll have to learn that on your own. I'm talking about hand to hand combat. I already got your tutor ready."
Harry blinked in surprise, "You're not going to be teaching me?"
"No, this will actually be one of the few times we meet in person. The rest of the time we will contact each other either through mail or through your tutor."
"And who's that?"
"That would be me Harry dear." Was all Harry heard before the world went black.
Working at Marauders was a lot different than Max would have thought. It didn't require much training, seeing as Mipsy and Alfred did all the cooking and cleaning of rooms. What he had to do was wait tables and do the occasional odd job that Remus asked for.
Some of the odd jobs were pretty easy, others were downright terrible. Like the monthly cage clean up. You see, after the full moon all there werewolves would leave the cages they transformed in and immediately go back to their rooms (which Remus made half price for werewolves, so it's easier for werewolves to stay longer) to rest. This was the busiest and hardest day of the month. It required Alfred and Mipsy's full attention to the needy werewolves who were always going on and on about hurting joints, stomach aches, and what not.
Alright that was mean, the transformation probably is as bad as the werewolves make it sound. Max was just frustrated that while the two house elves got the hard job of caring for the sick werewolves, he got the nasty job of cleaning up excrement left in the cages. And then when he was done, he had to service the entire restaurant part of Marauders (although the elves still somehow got the cooking done, Max was a terrible cook) until the the elves could relieve him for his break (where he joined the werewolves and slept for the rest of the day).
Max had asked Harry to help out on these days. That douche shot him with a stream full of icy water from his wand! It's not like Harry couldn't have cleaned up the mess in the cages with a sweep of his wand. Nope, Harry went back to whatever the hell it was he did alone in his room.
Infact, Max hadn't seen Harry come out of his room in three days. Not since that quidditch scout asked Harry to try out. That was odd, Harry would at least come down once a day.
"Hey Remus!" Max shouted back into the kitchen where the man was cleaning dishes, "Have you seen Harry recently?"
There was silence for a few seconds before an answer came, "No! I haven't seen him in a while, he's probably holed up in his room. Could you go check on him?"
"Yeah, I'll go!" Max called back and made his way up to Harry's room.
His friend probably had gotten a new book and had been reading it for three days straight, it had happened to Max before when working with potions. Sometimes you just get so excited by your work that you forget about everything else. Max expected to see Harry reading a book with deep bags under his eyes. What he saw was way worse.
There Harry was, past out on his bed fully clothed in what was left of his thoroughly sliced and beaten clothing. The blue t-shirt he was wearing had bloodstains where the holes were and the athletic shorts he had on were nearly falling apart from wear. Most of Harry's upper torso was covered in bloody gauze, in the places that weren't covered, Max could see pink gashes in Harry's skin that appeared to be in the process of healing. Overall, Harry seemed thoroughly beaten to shit.
"HARRY!" Max yelled in panic and rushed over to his friends side, "Holy Merlin, what happened? Are you okay?" Max smacked himself in the face, "Of course he's not okay, Max you idiot. Look at him! He looks almost dead. Harry can you hear me?" There was no response from Harry, but Max could see the steady rise and fall of his chest. That was good, he's still alive.
Max rolled Harry over to get a good look at his face, he almost wished he hadn't. Harry had two black eyes and a thoroughly bruised face, there was a bloody gash on his forehead that was poorly covered by a band aid that had pictures of ducks on it. That was weird.
"That's it, I'm getting Remus!" Max made to move but was stopped by Harry.
"Grugah, fuck." He said not making any sense.
"What Harry, what do you need? Water? Food? Paper and quill to write you will? A sexual spar with Tonks? Anything, just tell me what you need and I will get it!"
"You're a moron." Harry made to sit up in his bed but grasped his side in pain.
"Dude! Stay down, you look like shit. Speaking of which, how did you come to, uh, look like shit?"
Harry winced, this was a conversation he had hoped to avoid for a while. Oh well, it's to be expected with his injuries. There's no way he could hide them.
"I recently started a new training regimen with a new... tutor I guess you could say." He said with a shudder.
Max looked at his injured friend incredulously, "Who's your tutor, a giant? Cause it looks like you've been stepped on by one."
Harry grimaced, "She's worse than a giant, a giant won't heal your injuries only so it can beat the shit out of you again. And I can't tell you who she is, magically binding oath and all."
"Wait, some chick did this to you?" Max said unbelievingly, Harry always seemed so unbreakable. It was weird to see him hurt. "And you're doing this willingly?"
Harry nodded his head affirmative.
Max turned to the door, "I'm getting Remus."
"NO!" Harry yelled
Max turned to his friend, "Harry, you're hurt badly. Hell, I feel hurt just looking at you. You need medical aid now."
"Don't tell Remus." Harry said pleadingly, "He'll make me stop training with her." Remus may give Harry free reign to do a lot of things that most parents would find completely irresponsible, but there was one thing that Remus took seriously and that was Harry's health.
"You want to keep on doing... whatever the hell are you doing with... whoever she is? Are you mad!"
Harry gave a dry laugh, "I might be, but I've learned more in one session with her than I could have in weeks on my own. I need to keep doing this."
"Why do you need to keep doing this? What could possibly be so important that you need to get the shit kicked out of you?"
Harry stayed silent for a few seconds, thinking over his answer. Why was he doing this, learning to fight that is. There was really no need for him to learn to fight other than Nicholas asking him to. "I don't... I don't know Maximus. All I do know is that it's important that I keep on doing it. Promise me that you won't tell Remus."
"Harry you need help, we should take you to Mungos'."
Harry waved him off, "I'll be alright in a hour or two. She gave me a potion that's supposed to heal all physical injuries in a few hours. No scars or nothing."
"Wait, you looked worse than you do now!" Max said horrified then changed to thoughtfulness, "What potion did she give you? I know of only one or two that could heal you completely, and those are high end alchemy."
"I have no idea what it was called, I was unconscious at the time. All I know it that it works, I can feel my ribs repairing themselves right now." He said joyfully and sat up in bed with only a slight amount of pain. He then looked Max in the eye and gave him one of his nastiest glares, "Promise you won't tell Remus."
"Harry, I-I just can't..." Glare "You look like shit..." Glare "I mean..." Glare "Well..." Glare"FINE! I swear I won't tell him! Just stop looking at me like that!" Max just couldn't say no. Seriously, Harry's eyes were too green and too creepy. They could make him cave in seconds.
Harry nodded his head in confirmation, "Thanks Maximus. Now if you'll please leave me in peace, I should get back to sleep and heal up. Because I've gotta go and... Zzzzzz." Harry couldn't finish because he slumped over in exhaustion and for once slept with both eyes closed. Well, Max couldn't really tell. Harry's eyes were practically swollen shut.
Max shook his head and made his way down the trapdoor, "Never a dull moment." He said to himself.
The rest of the summer went much the same for the two soon-to-be fourth years. Max worked for Remus and worked on his potions alone while in his room. Harry read 18 hours a day and got the shit kicked out of him once a week by his 'Tutor'. Max had some difficulty covering for his friend on those days, but Remus hadn't noticed yet
There were two irregularities however, the International Quidditch Tryout and (even more irregular) Remus doing as he promised Harry by going on a date. The date unfortunately did not turn out so well and nothing became of it.
Harry had thankfully had his tutor session two days before the tryout and was therefore in top condition before it. Harry had demolished all the trials he was put through with only two close match-ups with other chasers. But, in the end, there was really no comparison. Harry was now the youngest person to ever make it onto a national quidditch team. The coach was a little dubious about a fourteen year old playing professional at first, but he accepted it in the end along with the other players.
And as happy as Harry was about making the team (which wasn't nearly as ecstatic as Max, who, when he found out the news, ran out into Knockturn Alley cheering like a madman and wasn't heard from for the rest of the day), he couldn't help but feel overworked. He had quidditch practice every weekday and the practices themselves were extremely hard. Mostly all he did right now was workout and get into shape in order to play with his much older teammates. The workout sessions were hard, but thankfully not nearly as hard as his tutoring sessions with Her, Mariah. Harry didn't even like to think about her name, too much pain involved with it. His weekly tutoring sessions with her in muggle combat, or as Max liked to call them, his weekly Harry-gets-fucked-up sessions, were going... well Harry couldn't really tell how well they were going.
He got injured in ways he'd never thought possible, like having half his left arm only dangling by tendons at his side with the rest of the skin, bone, and muscle ripped away. But after the potion he took at the end of every session or whenever he took 'breaks' (was unconscious), there wasn't even a scar left. That injury alone had almost made him stop the sessions. The only reason he didn't stop was because of the resources Flamel provided and how how fast he was progressing in fighting. Sure he might get the shit kicked out of him on a regular basis, but Harry learned that the pain inflicted was only temporary. The pain he went through made his body compensate in order not to feel that pain again. And ever since the tutoring began, Harry noticed his reflexes improve to almost insane levels, his muscles became more defined and chiseled, and he built up a rather high pain tolerance.
With all the tutoring and quidditch practices, Harry barely had enough time to work on his personal projects. His progress on the blood ward had been going slowly. He may not meet Flamel in person, but they did correspond by mail. And as long as Harry stuck with the tutoring sessions, Flamel would give Harry almost anything he asked for. But sadly even with Flamel's resources and nearly endless wealth, there was still almost no information on the blood ward. There were maybe only two or three masters in blood magic in the world and due to the way people shunned anything remotely involved with the dark arts, they preferred solitude to being hated.
And since they were masters in blood magic and all things blood related, they were extremely good warders. Blood wards worked different than others, according to one of the rarer texts Nicholas had gotten him, the only way to get around one is to overload it which is nearly impossible. The only kinds of magic that might be stronger than blood wards would have to be parselmagic or soul magic. And luckily for Harry, he could wield one such magic. Unfortunately, Harry was neither trained nor was there anyone else known on earth that was a parselmouth. So bummer, meeting blood mages would have to wait.
Speaking of waiting, Harry was impatiently doing such as Max was tearing apart his room at Marauder's in search of his 'luck socks'. It was finally the day that they were to leave for Hogwarts after a long summer break. Max was doing a last minute check through his things before they left and could not for the life of him find his lucky socks. They were the socks he was wearing the first time Shannon gave him a hug (this being after he figured out he liked her), every single time he aced a test he had worn those socks, and any time he went to Harry for help he wore them in hopes of not getting hexed.
"Can we go now? You don't need them and they smell nasty." Harry complained
"No! We shall never leave until the 'Socks of Glory' return to their rightful place on my feet!" Max said dramatically.
Harry rolled his eyes at his friend's childishness, "Have you checked your feet?"
Max stopped tearing apart the room to stare dumbly at his feet where, lo n' behold, said lucky socks were.
"Ha! Found you!" He said to his feet, "Don't you two ever go sneaking off again without me, you hear?"
Harry was now somewhat used to his friend's behavior and didn't see this as that odd of an occurrence, "You're a moron. Let's go."
"Why do you always call me a moron? It's either that or idiot." Max complained, Harry didn't answer and left the room.
"Shannon!" Max yelled excitedly as soon as he saw her outside of their usual compartment. He then gave the girl a bone crushing hug.
"Max! Let me go! You saw me three days ago for goodness sake!" The girl complained but was secretly flattered by her friend's enthusiasum to see her.
Max let her go and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry." he said, "It's just I've had nothing but Harry for company ever since you left and he's always too busy to hang out."
Shannon looked for the recently signed quidditch star but he was absent, "Where is he anyway?"
Max looked around, "That's odd. He was right behind me." Max shrugged his shoulders and dragged Shannon inside the compartment where they got their answer as to where Harry was.
Outside the window of their compartment, they could see cameras flashing and a large crowd converge onto one person. Harry.
Ever since the Daily Prophet released an article on how Harry had taken Robert Beach's spot as chaser on the English National team, the paper had been swarmed with articles about him. All of them having absolutely no credible information about Harry. The English National Team had closed practices, therefore the press couldn't get any pictures or interviews with Harry (not that he'd give them one) unless Harry went to them. The only credible source of information had been the English Coach's announcement of Harry's tryout. It therefore made sense for reporters and fans to converge on Platform 9 3/4 in order to meet Harry.
"Mr. Potter! What's it like to play professional?"
"Will you sign this please!"
"Mr. Potter! What is your opinion about how well the English National Team will do this year?"
"Just a few questions Mr. Potter!"
Max laughed at his friend's misfortune until Shannon punched him in the arm.
"Don't be mean! You know how much Harry hates crowds... or just people in general."
"What? It's not like Harry's all sensitive. And besides, I think it's the crowd that should worry about Harry." Max said and could now spot Harry's head in the midst of the crowd. Harry had a look on his face that Max had only seen once before, when the Weasley Twins had told the school that he's a parselmouth. His expression kinda looked like a cross between annoyance and anger along with his killer glare thrown into the mix.
All of a sudden, the crowd parted like the Red Sea, as if they were pushed apart by two invisible walls leaving a perfectly straight pathway to the train. Harry calmly pocketed his wand and walked towards the train, ignoring the struggling reporters and fans trying to move past the barrier, as if nothing had occurred.
"Sup Harry, took you long enough." Max said mockingly as soon as he walked into their compartment
Harry grunted in response and waved his wand at the invisible barrier he'd erected, it vanished allowing other students to board the train.
"Cool wand work out there." Shannon commented
Harry grunted again, clearly not wanting to talk at the moment, and took out a book to read. Max and Shannon just shrugged at each other, what are you going to do? When Harry got into one of his moods, it was almost impossible to get him out of it.
Max and Shannon settled for their usual pastime of playing chess. No one came into their compartment, not even Cedric or quidditch fans wanting an autograph from Harry. Max guessed that Harry had set up some kind of notice-me-not charm to avoid the student body.
Cedric had came over to Marauders a few times during the summer to hang with Max and Harry. Well, mostly Max seeing as Harry's time was spent either studying, at quidditch practice, getting his ass kicked, or recovering from said ass kicking. Harry barely even had time to think.
The only odd thing that happened on the train was a charmed paper airplane flying into their compartment and landing on Harry's lap. Harry unfolded it and read the message.
"Who's it from?" Max asked
"It's from our new DADA professor, Gilderoy Lockhart." Harry said, "He wants to meet me before we get to Hogwarts. Something about 'Celebrities like us sticking together.'"
"The charmed paper airplane is kinda cool, it's had to charm something to do that." Shannon commented
Harry snorted, "Yeah it would be, that is if it wasn't store bought." Harry showed them a logo inscribed on the airplane, "You can buy these in bulk from some owl ordering company. I think the Ministry uses them." Harry flicked his wand at the paper which caused it to refold it self into a much cooler airplane (in Max's opinion). It then sped out of the compartment at a much faster speed than before.
"Harry, what did you do to it?" Max asked
"I charmed it to dive bomb him and avoid all spells." He said going back to his book.
Max snickered, "That's cool."
"No it's not." Shannon protested, "He's our teacher and rather famous for all those things he did in his books. You should give him some respect Harry."
Harry scoffed from behind his book, "That man is a fraud. It you even bothered to compare information between his books, you'd see that some of the dates overlap. He was supposedly yeti hunting in the Swiss Alps at the same time he was fighting that banshee in Singapore."
Shannon looked like Harry had just kicked her puppy. "Oh, you had a crush on him didn't you?" Harry said, ignoring how the current topic of conversation was making Max mad/uncomfortable. "That's funny."
"I'm leaving to go sit with my roommates." Shannon said rather tersely, she got up and left before Max had a chance to stop her.
Max punched Harry in the arm, "Dick." He said, "Why did you have to do that? Now it's just going to be you and me for the rest of the ride."
"Cedric will be here in about ten seconds." Harry said from behind his book.
Max looked at Harry strangely but didn't doubt that their Hufflepuff friend would be here in ten seconds. He had no idea how Harry knew, but Harry had never been wrong as long as Max knew him.
"Hey guys, I've been looking all over for you." Cedric said walking in exactly ten seconds later (Max counted), "Figures it would be in the last compartment I checked."
"Sup Ced." Max said happily
Harry grunted.
"What is up with you grunting today?"
"Those damn reporters and quidditch fanatics at the station." Harry said angrily, "They were all idiots. Just because I play professional now doesn't change a thing about me, but still they swarmed me. And now that my name is big and all that shit I'm going to have to deal with that everywhere I go." Harry scowled
Max shook his head in amusement while Cedric stared at Harry in confusion, wasn't it cool to have fans?
"Harry, that's part of being famous." Max said as if explaining to a three year old, "People are going to want to meet you and get your autograph and get interviews. You're just going to have to deal with it."
Harry's scowl deepened, "I know that. What I didn't know was that everyone would act like idiots about it. Maybe I should quit."
"If you did, I'd poison your breakfast." Max said seriously.
"And it doesn't even matter anymore," Cedric added, "even if you did quit they'd still know your name. They'd just know it as the kid who couldn't handle being professional and quit instead of the youngest professional quidditch player ever."
Harry grunted (again).
"So let me get this straight." Max said, "Longbottom and Weasley #6 missed the train."
"Yep." Cedric said grinning
"Then, in all their brilliance, steal the Weasley's illegal flying car in order to catch up to the train."
"Uhuh." Cedric urged further
"They flew all the way to Hogwarts, being seen by seven muggles in the process, and then crash the car into the whomping willow."
"And then they were caught by Filch who turned them over to Snape. Snape decided to take away 80 points from each I think and gave them both a month of detention."
"How are they not expelled?" Max asked allowed.
Harry scoffed from his position on the other side of the Ravenclaw Table, "Like the Ministry would let Dumbledore expel the Boy-Who-Lived. Not that he would in the first place, I don't think Dumbledore's ever expelled anyone in his entire time as Headmaster."
It had caused quite a stirring in the Great Hall that morning when the youngest Weasley got a howler from his mother. It had been the loudest one anyone in the Great Hall had ever heard. Cedric had just finished telling the Ravenclaw table what had happened after he had gotten the information from the Weasley Twins. The two twins found the whole situation hilariously funny unlike the rest of their house.
The entire house of the lions had shunned the two second years for losing 160 points before school even started. Harry, once again, complained about how everyone took the house cup too seriously. It was basically a competition of who could suck up to teachers the best. There was no reward but a stupid bronze cup, and you didn't even get to brag about it seeing as you found out if you've won on the last day of school.
Speaking of shunning, Harry was doing as such to almost the entirety of the school. Every single person outside of his small group of friends felt the urge to point, stare, whisper, touch, and, god forbid, talk to him. But that was just from the quidditch fanatics. The worst was the girls that wanted to ask him on a date.
If Harry thought that all the attention he had gotten last year from the opposite sex was bad, then this year was out of control. Left and right he was asked out on dates, some by the same girl in one day. Harry had started using his animagus form and his extensive knowledge of the castle's secret passageways whenever possible to avoid detection from the female population.
Max, of course, found the whole situation extremely funny and took time to lie to any girl that asked him about what Harry liked. He once told a group of girls that in order for Harry to notice them, they had to first 'capture' him. Then next day, Harry had to avoid flying tackles from females who wanted to ask him out. They all had no idea how close they had actually came to dying, or at least being seriously injured.
Harry's time spent with his tutor had made him permanently alert, Mariah (his tutor) had started jumping him randomly throughout the summer when she had thought he was past the stage of being an 'Incompetent Dumbass Brit' and didn't use that 'stupid sword form shit you read in a book'. She would sneak up on him, grab him from behind, and then they be whisked away to some random location by some kind of travel Harry had never experienced before. He thought it was called shadow walking but he couldn't be sure.
Sometimes they even fought on historical sites, like when she felt the need to throw him down the slope from the top of one of the Pyramids of Giza. How the muggles never noticed that fight, Harry had no idea. But he guessed that anything's possible when you have near unlimited resources and magic. But thanks to the random sessions, Harry now carried a pair of twin daggers that he kept strapped to himself at all times. One strapped to his ankle and one strapped to his left arm. And it took a lot of restraint not to gut the girls attempting to tackle him.
"What class do you guys got first?" Cedric asked
"Charms with Gryffindor." Max said, "Oh, but it looks like we'll have DADA with you."
"Why does Lockheart glare whenever he sees you?" Cedric said to Harry
Harry smirked, "I charmed an airplane he sent me to dive bomb him. I may have also sharpened the edges of the paper with magic as well. He must have gotten some pretty nasty paper cuts." Pretty lame prank but a prank none the less.
Max laughed, "I hope he picks you for some class demonstrations, we have a dueling unit this year. You should kick his ass." Max was still a little put out that his not-so-secret crush had a crush on their new teacher.
"He probably will pick you." Cedric said
"I look forward to it." Harry smiled menacingly.
A few weeks later, Harry had actually decided to take a break from all his studying. Even he needed a break sometimes. He still had to do homework in all of his classes despite how overly prepared he was. The teachers had finally offered to give him extra lessons, but Harry had rejected them. While extra help would be appreciated, it was no longer needed. The independence that Harry had become accustomed to since his first year was something he was not going to give up.
Harry only thought they offered in the first place because the assumed he'd be too busy with his weekly quidditch practices. Which was almost true, he was extremely busy and didn't have as nearly as much reading time as he would have liked. But the pay checks kept on rolling in every month and they weren't going to stop anytime soon. Despite having the resources of perhaps the richest man on the planet, there what one thing that Flamel flat out refused to do. Use the Philosopher's Stone on anything other than his wife and himself.
Harry had asked Nicholas in a letter if he could use his stone to give Harry an insane amount of money so he could stop playing professional quidditch and focus on his studies. Nicholas refused saying that he'd give Harry resources he approved of and money was not one of them. Rare books on the other hand were. But as long as money was involved, it looked like Harry was on his own (which was rather well, he made more money in one month than most wizards made in a year).
So here Harry was, walking down some random corridor, he didn't know which. It was Halloween and everyone was down at the feast accept for him, he didn't feel like being oogled by a majority of the school today. He was idly tossing a tennis ball up and down as he thought about all the stuff that had gone on over the summer. The ball never once dropped to the ground, with His insane reflexes it was all too easy. Then Harry heard something that made him stop in his tracks.
"Kill... it'sss been ssso long... I ssmell blood... Rip... Kill..."
Harry knew immediately that it was a snake talking, their way of speaking was too recognizable. He quickly looked around for it in the hopes of talking to it and figuring out what it was doing in a castle in the middle of Scotland. But there wasn't one in sight. It sounded as it it was coming out from the wall. The snake had escaped and there was no one but Harry in the corridor.
Or at least, that's what Harry thought before a hand grasped his wrist and he was harshly shoved into the corner.
"Agh!" Was all Harry could get out as he flung his arms out in front of him to brace for the impact of the wall. It never came. Instead darkness and the feeling of traveling two-hundred miles an hour hit his body. He was familiar with this feeling.
Harry landed and immediately went into a roll, completely forgetting about the snake he heard. And it was a good thing he did, because three throwing knives imbedded themselves in the ground of where he just was.
"You didn't think that just because you went to school means you get to skip out on our little tutoring sessions, did you Harry?" A melodious voice sang.
Harry, who was hiding behind some kind of half destroyed stone pillar, quickly analyzed the situation. Mariah had came and kidnapped him to bring him to... it looked like some half destroyed greek building or temple, and now they were going to do the usual. Mariah, trying to injure Harry as much as possible without actually killing him, and Harry trying to avoid injuries for as long as possible.
"I had hoped you'd think I was too busy." Harry said from where he was hiding, "It was a naive hope."
Her light laughter sounded like tinkling bells. Harry risked a glance from behind his hiding spot to glare at his teacher. She stood about thirty feet away, looking stunning/drop dead gorgeous as always. Her dark hair was curled and fell down to her mid back. She was wearing a skin tight black combat suit that hugged her figure (which most women would kill for) in all the right places and looked like it belonged to a spy from a movie. Her lips were blood red which was enhanced by her extremely pale skin which was a dead giveaway that she was a vampire. Her eyes were red as well and they were currently looking at Harry in amusement.
"You can stop staring Harry, it's not like you haven't seen more." She teased and it was true. He had seen more, a lot more.
On their third training session she had been under the impression that her looks were affecting Harry's fighting (she was right). So in order to get rid of the silly affection Harry had for her, she fought him nude. It had been the strangest, best, most embarrassing, pain filled, hormonal day Harry had ever had in his entire life. Mariah was a lot of things, shy was not one of them. And the strangest thing was, it worked. Once Harry had seen the whole package (so to speak), there wasn't much left for imagination and he could focus on fighting her and not fighting Harry Jr. who was trying to escape from his cotton prison.
"Well it's not like half the world's male and part of the female population hasn't seen as much as I have." Harry spat, "You're a complete slut!" It was true too. When you're immortal like Mariah or Nicholas are, you needed to find some way to spend your time. Harry guessed Nicholas experimented with Alchemy or spent time with Perenelle. Mariah spent her time practicing fighting, partying, training Harry, or having sex. She made it her personal goal to sleep with as many men as possible, and she did pretty well at succeeding in that goal. Well, whatever keeps you sane right?
"And proud of it too, Harry dear." She flashed Harry a fanged, sexy grin, "I've offered plenty of times Harry, you're always welcome to come join me in the bed room. But enough of this idle chit chat, let's get down to business."
Harry gulped. Being as old as she was (she wouldn't tell Harry how old though), Mariah was probably the best in the world when it came to physical fighting. When someone is turned into a vampire, they lose all magical abilities they currently have along with part of their soul. In return they are granted superhuman strength and speed that only gets stronger as they age. They can hypnotize those that aren't strong enough to resist. They (or al least Mariah) prefer to move in an unnatural manner that can be seen as seductive and terrifying at the same time. The sun weakens them but cannot kill them. They need blood to survive, preferably human blood. They can survive on animal blood for a time but that will weaken them as well. With age comes power, their resistance to the sun is increased along with the amount of time they can last without blood.
A muggle turned vampire is different from a witch or wizard turned. They are weaker first off and require blood almost everyday. They don't improve as quickly in terms of strength or speed and they can't hypnotize people.
Harry realized that he was wearing his school robes which were practically the worst thing you could wear in a fight. So he transfigured them into some basketball shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. He transfigured a few pebbles into leather gauntlets and shin guards. He'll probably have go out and buy some dragonhide ones to wear permanently, god knows why he didn't do that sooner.
Harry pulled out his daggers, they were plane double edged reinforced steel. Nothing fancy but were more than adequate. He took a few deep breaths before charging Mariah at full tilt. She smiled wickedly before dodging his first slash and somehow deflecting another with her bare hands. Harry didn't stop to think about how she did that, he'd seen it before and the last time he stopped the fight, he ended up being smashed in the face by a shield.
Harry started moving faster than a regular human ought to be able to as he used magic to power his muscles and speed up his strikes. It was a trick he learned out of nesessity since he had to keep up with her. He wasn't that proficient with it yet, it was a skill that took time and experience to master. The technique was mostly practiced by Asian Monks, one of whom wrote a book where Harry learned this from.
Harry ducked a punch which was quickly followed by a roundhouse kick aimed for his temple (who ever said Chuck Norris was the master of the roundhouse kick had never met Mariah, Harry took one to the face once and wound up with a dislocated jaw and a dented skull). Harry ducked the kick and attempted to sweep her legs out from under her. She jumped over his leg and pulled a knife from one of the hidden pockets on her person. The knife was thrown quicker than the eye could see and lodged itself in Harry's right shoulder. He grunted in pain and dodged her next attack by rolling away while simultaneously pulling the knife from his shoulder.
He lost one of his daggers when she hit him with that knife, so he charged her with only one dagger, only to receive a kick to the stomach which sent him flying into on of the pillars. He groaned in pain but got up looking a little worse for wear, (bruised stomach and back, possible internal bleeding, and with a few scratches here and there) another benefit of focusing magic into your muscles was that it helped prevent injury the knife wounded was barely even bleeding.
She was on him in a flash despite there being a fifty foot gap between them now. Harry dodged her next two bare handed strikes and sprinted to where he dropped his dagger when he hit the pillar. He quickly turned around after retrieving his fallen weapon and was forced to dodge a katana blade that she had pulled from one of the numerous pockets on her. She performed an endless series of slashes that Harry could only dodge or deflect with his one dagger. He got clipped once on both shoulders and another pretty bad slash on his wrist that would have been a lot worse had it not been for his gauntlets. The injuries hurt, he ignored them as he had been forced taught.
Harry ran up one of the fallen pillars leaning on the foundations of another fallen pillar in order to get the higher ground advantage. She followed him up, her blade slashing in a seemingly wild fashion that made it impossible to predict where the next strike would come from. To an outside viewer, they looked like a blur of motion, almost impossible to keep track of. Harry could only deflect her slashes, despite her katana being a light weapon, there was an unholy strength behind it that Harry had been on the wrong end of before.
They finally made it to the top of the slanted pillar and Harry had somehow managed not to take any serious hits. Unfortunately Harry had run out of room and could no longer back up to avoid her longer reaching weapon. Seeing no other option, Harry back flipped off the end of the fallen pillar using his heightened feline balance and agility to manage it while still deflecting a strike from Mariah mid air. He landed on the ground and quickly did a backwards roll to avoid damage from the impact and the falling Mariah who cracked the stone floor when she landed.
Harry had to dodge a wickedly spiked, 30 pound mace that was swinging at him in a long horizontal arc. He was reminded of the scene in the third Lord of the Rings movie where the Witch King uses his giant mace on Eowyn, he didn't have much time to think on it. Avoiding death and all.
The range Mariah had with her mace was keeping Harry away but it was also one of the easier weapons to dodge. Harry made to roll under one of her swings but didn't go low enough and was clipped on the back. Normally being clipped wouldn't lead to a bad injury, but what the mace lacked in speed it made up for in force. One of the mace's spike dug deeply into Harry's back before it was ripped out. Harry cried out in pain, he definitely just fractured one of his vertebrae. But his spinal cord wasn't cut (unlike last time) so he could still move.
But this injury would lead to his downfall. His back was in too much pain and he could not twist out of the way to avoid a powerful kick to the chest. The kick sent him flying back fifty feet into another pillar where he smacked his head hard up against it and fell to the ground unconscious.
Mariah sighed and went to attend to her young pupil. She force fed him one of Nicky's potions that would get him completely healed in a few hours where he would once again wake up and they could battle it out to their hearts content... Well her heart anyway. She wasn't worried about him missing school, Nicky had given her one of his time turners to make up for any time they needed.
"Better go tell Nicky that he needs to come fix whatever damage we caused to the Parthenon." She said to herself, "At least this time we didn't break anything hard to fix like the time we broke George Washington's nose off on Mt. Rushmore. Good times."
AN/: Here's chapter 10 in my story. Sorry it took longer than a month but this was a rather hard chapter to write. As you can see, I just added my own twists to the story that will steer it in a direction completely different from 'knowledge is power'. Trust me, you'll like where the story is going especially when I bring Sirius into the story. I have a few surprises for him that I think you'll like. After all these reviews and messages saying they agree with me about how the Remus/Tonks was creepy, I have made the final decision and have decided to have different pairings for each. I'll still get Tonks in the story, don't worry. I know she's one of everyone's favorite Characters. That was the first fight scene I've ever written so let me know how it was and if you liked it. Daggers will not be Harry's weapon of choice, they are simply the easiest to conceal and are the kind of things I'd use in a fight so I naturally chose to use them. For Harry's final weapon I plan on something amazingly sick but he probably won't have it until fifth or sixth year. I tried to add a bit more humor into this chapter than I had in the past, let me know if it's funny and if you liked it. As always write lots of reviews and I'll try and get the next chapter up and running as soon as possible.