Chapter Twelve
The Room of Erised
Harry awoke the next morning feeling lighter, less weighed-down, than he could remember ever feeling. He had never spoken of what the Dursleys had done to him to anyone else, but he felt better, much better, now that Ginny knew. He didn't want to keep things from her if he could avoid it.
Harry would have been terrified just yesterday at the prospect of baring his soul completely to anyone, but if it had to be someone, Ginny was easily the best choice. But now, looking back, he was glad that he had told her. Her knowing such things made his life easier in a lot of ways. And to have this one secret, one of his most protected and darkest, off his chest made the entire world seem brighter, better in some way that would never be known to anyone else.
He didn't think he could ever tell someone like Ron what had happened, though. He was ashamed of the weakness he had shown in front of Ginny, someone who he knew wouldn't look down on him for it, and he imagined it would be much worse around one of his 'mates'. Harry just didn't think that Ron was one for such sentimentalities.
Morning, Harry James, Ginny said in his mind, teasingly, with a mental yawn. Harry didn't blame her; the two of them hadn't succumbed to sleep until just a couple of hours previous.
Morning, Ginevra Molly, Harry said, chuckling to himself slightly. He thought Molly was an unusual name to have for a middle name, but then, Harry reminded himself, he didn't have that much experience with middle names, let alone wizarding ones. For that matter, Harry thought Ginevra was an odd first name, though he rather liked it.
I hate it when people call me Ginevra, you know. Mum only ever does it when I'm in trouble and Fred and George only say it to get me angry; Percy does it when he's feeling particularly better than the rest of us… she told him.
Oh, Harry said, embarrassed, I'll erm—stop then.
No! I mean—um— you don't have to. It's different when you say it… she said, blushing. Just don't call me that when people can hear you… So next year it's Ginny unless we're talking like… well, like this, she said, giggling. The twins would be awful with their teasing if they heard you call me that… Harry could feel her pale as she said this.
He laughed, Okay, Ginevra, not out loud, then. He savoured her name as he said it, feeling the trills down his spine. Harry didn't understand it, but it made him feel good to be allowed to call her something than no one else was permitted to.
Unfortunately, Harry's laugh woke up Ron. "Mate, what are you laughing about so early?" he grumbled, disgruntled.
"Er—nothing, Ron," Harry responded, making a show of rubbing his eyes to show that he, too, was tired. He was tired, it was true, but the exaggeration was for Ron's benefit.
Harry was relieved that Ron had, apparently, forgotten about his anger toward Harry and the twins last night when they wouldn't let him see the parchment with Harry's dad's records on it.
"What time is it?" Ron asked as Harry heard him roll onto his side, trying to ward off what little bit of waking he could.
Harry looked at Dudley's old wristwatch, it read six twenty-two, but Harry knew that Dudley's watch was an hour and three minutes off. "It's seven twenty-five, Ron, we should get up."
Harry grabbed his pillow and threw it at the four-poster bed next to him. "Neville! Wake up!"
Neville, who had been snoring loudly, jerked awake, sat up, and looked around the dormitory in a daze. "Whattime sit?" he asked the air around him.
"Seven twenty-five, Neville, or we'll be late to classes, forget about breakfast." Classes started at eight every weekday and Harry doubted he would be able to shower and find his way to his class without being late.
"No breakfast?" Ron asked, outraged. As the three got out of bed (Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan must have gotten up earlier without waking the other three), Ron exclaimed, "I guess there's no time for a shower, then," and promptly went out the door to, presumably, the Great Hall for breakfast.
Harry shook his head. He had only known Ron for a couple of days, but he could tell that his appetite would become legendary. He wondered if Ginevra ate like he did.
I don't, thanks! she said, feigning offence. No one eats like Ron.
Harry laughed out loud. Neville's head shot up, "What's so funny, Harry?" he asked timidly. Neville was a shy, clumsy boy who seemed uncomfortable doing with so much as talking.
"Er… nothing, Neville. Just a stray thought," Harry supplied weakly. Neville seemed to accept this readily enough as Harry headed into the bathroom for a shower.
************
Harry ran into his Charms classroom, thoroughly out of breath. "Sorry I'm late, Professor," he gasped out. He had gotten lost four times on his way to class and, as a result, was four minutes late to his class.
"Quite all right, Mr. Potter!" squeaked out the tiny Charms professor, Professor Flitwick, who was standing atop a large stack of books. "But do please try to arrive on time next class."
"Yes, of course, Professor," Harry replied politely.
"Now, Mr. Potter, before you joined us I had asked the class to retrieve their copies of Adalbert Waffling's Magical Theory, so if you would please find a seat and open your own copy, we might begin" Professor Flitwick instructed.
The Gryffindors had Charms with the Ravenclaws and, because of this, Harry didn't know many of the people in the room. Indeed, the only person Harry knew who didn't have a partner at their table was Hermione Granger.
He gave her a small smile as he sat down next to her and she returned it with a large grin. Harry felt bad for her. He suspected that she was the type of person who probably didn't have many friends and her seating in the room (at the very front and all by herself) cemented this suspicion.
"Hello; it's Hermione, isn't it?" he asked quietly as he sat down.
"Yes; hello, Harry," she said, smiling warmly.
Harry quickly pulled out his copy of Magical Theory.
"Now," tiny Professor Flitwick began, "if everyone would please turn to page three, we may begin." The sound of rustling and turning pages filled the classroom for a moment before it ceased, almost as one, leaving the room in complete silence. It was an eerie silence; one that seemed to be both deafening and utterly tranquil. It was as though not a soul was so much as breathing in fear of breaking the silence.
And then the doors opened. Huffing and puffing, Ron and Neville came charging into the classroom. "Sorry we're—late, Professor," Ron managed to get out, his entire face rather red. Though whether this was from embarrassment or from his evident hurry to make it to class was undetermined.
"Now boys," Flitwick began, "You will need to get here on time; we can't have you missing the first ten minutes of class everyday. I'm afraid I will have to take away a point from each of you," Professor Flitwick seemed saddened at the prospect. "Because it is your first class, it won't be more, but in my class you must arrive on time."
Ron looked thoroughly abashed and Neville looked as though he wanted to curl into a corner and die. "Now boys, please take your seats, take out your copy of Magical Theory, and turn to page three," Flitwick instructed.
Ron meekly sat next to a brown-haired Ravenclaw boy while Neville sat next to a brown-haired Ravenclaw girl whose name, Harry thought, was Susan Bones.
Harry looked down at page three of Magical Theory and recognised it as the page that he had been looking at the day during the summer when he cast the Levitation charm on accident.
"Now," the professor began, "One of the simplest spells known to wizard-kind is the Levitation charm. If you will all look at page three, you will see that the diagram shows that you must move your wand in a swishing and flicking motion, like thus." Professor Flitwick pulled out his own wand, waved it to the right and then to the left before bringing it up and flicking it down. The book he was sitting on, which he had pointed his wand in the direction of, began to rise up with the professor standing atop it.
"Now, it is much more difficult to raise an object with a great deal of magical mass than it is to raise, for instance, a feather. Can anyone tell me why?" the professor asked kindly.
Harry and Hermione's hands both went up instantly. I know this one! Harry thought to Ginny enthusiastically.
Flitwick beamed at them. "Well, Mr. Potter, I'm afraid that I will have to let Miss Granger answer this one, due to your tardiness, but if you are first with my next question, I will not work against you. Now, Miss Granger, why is a massive object more difficult to raise than this feather?" he held a feather in his hand.
"The magical mass of the object to be raised will resist the magic from your Levitation charm, Professor. The feather has less mass that most other objects and this makes it easier to levitate," Hermione said, smiling and confident.
"Excellent, Miss Granger! Truly excellent! Ten points to Gryffindor!" the professor exclaimed. Hermione turned a deep shade of red, but she smiled widely nonetheless. "Every object, as you will know if you had read some of your Magical Theory over the summer, contains magical mass. Everything, you, me, Hogwarts even, contains some amount of magical mass.
"Now, an object that has been charmed already will not have its magical mass affected in any way, because magical mass cannot be altered. Now, who could tell me why Mr. Potter would be very difficult to levitate?"
Harry and Hermione's hands shot up once more. The tiny Charms professor chuckled. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"
"It would be difficult to raise me because, as a wizard, I have much more magical mass than your book or feather. I have more magic in me, in my core, and that translates to more magical mass," Harry answered, satisfied that he knew he was right. The look on Professor Flitwick's face told him as much without earning verbal confirmation.
"Wonderful, Mr. Potter, wonderful! Another ten points to Gryffindor!" Harry smiled.
And you thought you'd be hopeless at magic! First you block spells from the twins, cast nonverbal magic, and then explain something to do with magical mass that I don't even understand! Ginevra praised. Harry blushed lightly at her words.
"Who can tell me what would happen if I were to attempt to raise Hogwarts with a Levitation charm?" asked the diminutive professor.
Harry and Hermione's hands rose once again, though theirs were the only ones. Professor Flitwick's smile widened and his eyebrows rose. He chuckled, "Yes, Mr. Potter and Miss Granger have an excellent grasp on things, but can anyone else tell me what would happen?
"No? Very well then, Miss Granger, the floor is yours," he said with a wave of his hands and a slight bow.
"Nothing would happen, Professor. Hogwarts wouldn't move," she answered matter-of-factly.
"Yes, Miss Granger, it certainly would not. Five points to Gryffindor." The Gryffindors were all fairly pleased with the situation, they were earning a great deal of points and most of the class was doing absolutely nothing.
Harry slowly raised his hand. Professor Flitwick looked very surprised. "Yes, Mr. Potter? Have you something to add?"
I hope I don't look like a fool here… this wasn't mentioned in the book, Harry confided in Ginny.
"Er—If you put enough power into it… couldn't someone raise Hogwarts? But if you didn't have enough power to… wouldn't you experience a magical burnout?" Harry asked hesitantly. He was going out on a limb here.
Professor Flitwick looked very impressed. "Why—why yes, Mr. Potter. I suppose one could, if they had the necessary power, lift Hogwarts. But no one has ever exhibited such power—Merlin Ambrosius couldn't have done it. But yes… I do suppose it would be possible. Though if you were to put in so much power, and it would require a great deal of magic, I find it difficult to believe you would not experience a complete magical burn out. You might never be able to cast a spell again, should you try.
"Thirty points to Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, for asking a question for which I do not have a firm answer," Harry beamed widely, though he was blushing slightly. "This, class, is what I would like to see from you all! Mr. Potter has just raised an excellent question; I would like for you all to follow his example in the future. If there is something regarding the possibilities of magic that you do not understand, by all means ask what is possible in this class."
Beside him, Hermione Granger was shooting him a look of both admiration and jealousy. She, apparently, did not like Harry stealing her thunder, though she was unable to hide the fact that she was impressed.
Ron, however, looked somewhere between mortified that Harry knew such things, for if Harry were an intellectual, he might actually expect Ron to study… and pure happiness that he had shown up Hermione Granger, who he still spoke ill of when someone was willing to listen.
Harry correctly read his face. She's not that bad! Ginny insisted, Granted, we really haven't had a conversation with her yet, but she doesn't really go out of her way to make trouble… Ron's just got his knickers in a twist—I wonder if they're the ones that Fred and George charmed into a pair of Mum's? That could explain a lot… Harry could feel the grin in her voice. He grinned in response; luckily he would not look too odd smiling at the moment, he had just earned his house thirty points, after all.
Ooh! Ginny said in Harry's mind. I think I just found out why Mum's been in a foul mood all day. She walked past my door and I heard her say something to herself about Errol collapsing this morning. She probably wanted to send the twins a Howler, but Errol can't make the delivery!
Harry smiled a little wider at this. He wasn't looking forward to the swift retribution of the notorious Molly Weasley; the twins and Ron had both told Harry, to some length, about their mother's temper. He had experienced it through Ginny and had to agree that hers was a mighty temper.
"Now, if everyone would please read pages three through ten and practise the wand movement for the Levitation charm for homework, you may be dismissed early," the minute Charms professor said to the students there. "What you do not finish reading in class, you will do for homework, and if you finish reading before class is dismissed I encourage you to practise the nice swish and flick movement!" he squeaked.
For the next twenty minutes the only sounds that were made in the classroom was that of the turning page. Harry could feel Ginny concentrating on his Charms text as he read it. Harry and Ginny had a nearly constantly running conversation and it had only really ceased during Transfiguration, and now Charms.
Harry supposed that Ginevra was trying to get a head-start on the competition next year, and just maybe giving her brothers some female Weasley justice, by studying his books.
I wish we were in the same year, Harry sighed fifteen minutes after he began to read from his book. He had read it before, but he figured that doing so again could only help him. We could be pulling pranks… On Malfoy or just… Unspoken or not, Ginevra understood the sentiment.
Harry had spilled his soul to her the night before and her absolute acceptance of him, accompanied by neither pity nor repulsion, had strengthened their feelings for each other. Harry could hear her thoughts more clearly and feel her feelings more plainly. He could see, hear, and smell things that she could (and, oh, did her mother's pies smell good), but at the same time he was perfectly aware of those same senses in his body.
Yeah, Ginevra commiserated. I'll be there next year, she said rather bleakly. Harry thought that she must have picked up on his thoughts because—Yeah, I'm catching your thoughts, all right, she said with a laugh. Harry felt a shiver in his spine at the sound of her tinkling laughter.
Harry nearly laughed then. It would appear that he would never get any semblance of privacy ever again. And the odd thing was that he didn't mind at all. It wasn't like on Privet Drive where he would hide away from anyone who came near him, in fear of what his uncle would do to him for mingling with 'normal folk'. He shied, if anything, closer toward Ginny after he had told her his deepest, most desperate secrets.
Harry, remembering Professor Flitwick's instructions, pulled out his wand and began to practise the movements. He was very careful not to think of the incantation or of the feather floating; he didn't want Hermione Granger to badger him about it and Harry was fairly certain that she would if she knew.
After five minutes of absently swishing and flicking his wand—Professor Flitwick had told him that he was doing excellently, despite his lack of focus—the bell rang, ending Harry's first class of the day.
Harry picked up his bag from under his seat where he had deposited it upon his arrival, stood up, and exited the classroom with Ron and Hermione just behind him.
I think I like Charms class, Harry said to Ginny through their mind-link.
Vocally, he expressed the same sentiment to Ron and Hermione. Hermione was feeling odd walking with two people who she really didn't know very well, or so Harry presumed was the reason that she seemed slightly flustered. But then, it could have simply been the effect of the glares that Ron would periodically cast at her.
As they walked down the stairs that Harry hoped would take them to the Great Hall for lunch, they heard a sneering voice call out behind them. "Hey, Potter! I didn't know you could sink any lower than a Weasley," he spat the name as if it were a disgusting curse word, which was ironic as the next phrase he uttered contained one of said curse words, "But here you are, prancing around the school with a Mudblood."
Harry spun on his heel and had his wand drawn in half a second. He had practised drawing it, as if he were from a Muggle western film, all summer. Ginny had told him what Mudblood meant and it disgusted Harry that this git would call someone, whom he had likely never had as much as a conversation with, such a name.
Expelliarmus! he intoned in his head as he turned around. He had been thinking about his impromptu lessons with the twins when Malfoy had spoken up, so it was the first spell that came into his mind.
A jet of brilliant red light streaked out of his wand and jetted toward the shock-faced Draco Malfoy. Ron, whose reflexes weren't quite as good as Harry's evading Dudley and his buffoons tuned ones, shot sparks at Malfoy half a second after Harry had gotten off his spell.
The result was Malfoy being relieved of his wand, thrown off of his feet, and getting a hole burnt in the buttock of his pants. He sat up quickly and searched desperately for his wand. His cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, weren't with him today and that was his first mistake. The second was opening his mouth.
"I thought you would have learnt your lesson on the train, Malfoy," Harry literally snarled at the blonde-haired boy. "If you ever call anyone that name again you will have to worry about more than just sparks and a Disarming charm. Do you understand me?"
Oh God, Gin… I sound just like—him, Harry thought to Ginny as he paled considerably. Harry's mind filled with images of his childhood; of Uncle Vernon's beatings. Ginny's mind was filled with them too; viewing them in a horrible, secondhand way. Harry vaguely registered the tears that began to form in her eyes and his as well.
Harry's eyes took on a severely haunted look. He dropped Malfoy's wand, which he had caught just after disarming him, to the ground with a clatter and bolted off down an adjoining corridor.
He didn't know where he was going; he didn't know where he was. He just ran. Up and down corridors and stairs he ran; he ran into people he had never met in his life and took off after smacking into them with nothing so much as a muttered "sorry."
He ran for several more minutes, before stopping at a highly polished door that seemed to call out to him. He seized the handle of the door and pulled it open roughly, and he stepped into a spacious room. As he crossed the threshold of the room, he could feel a blast of air blow at him. He continued on and looked about the room. It was completely empty. Nearly, at any rate.
The glaring exception being an upright object that stood in the corner of the room, a large expanse of cloth draped over it.
************
Ron watched dumbfounded as Harry ran off. "Harry!" he called after him, but to no avail; Harry continued to fly passed students. Ron had no idea what Harry was running about; he didn't think it likely that Harry was afraid of being caught by teachers, even from Snape, he didn't think Harry would likely run.
It was then, after he had thought this, that he noticed that he had an armed draped protectively over Hermione. She seemed to be the colour of his hair.
"Er—sorry!" they both sputtered at the same time as they peeled themselves away from the other.
Ron could feel his cheeks burning bright and the telltale heat in his ears joined the collage of Weasley blushes, making it obvious to the world at large that he was either angry or terribly embarrassed.
"Er—" he began, "What do you think that was all about?" It went without saying that he was referring to Harry's sudden flight and not about Malfoy's comments about Hermione's family line.
"Did he get hexed?" she asked quietly.
Ron shook his head. "I don't think so; I didn't see anything…" Ron shrugged to himself slightly, "He'll be in History of Magic. He wanted to see if that class was as boring as Fred and George say it is."
"Did he—erm—did he say anything? When he shot the spell at that boy, I mean," Hermione asked inquisitively. She hadn't heard him say an incantation, but then she hadn't been paying much attention to what he had or hadn't said. She was too stung by Malfoy's words.
"He must've," Ron said noncommittally, "I mean, you can't do magic without the incantations, can you?" Ron then seemed to think for a moment, "Well, actually, I've seen Dad and Bill do magic without words, but I reckon it's pretty hard to do… Maybe he whispered it? Even that must be hard… I had to shout the levitation spell a bunch of times before I got anything…" Ron seemed to realise that he was babbling and promptly closed his mouth as he blushed to the roots of his hair.
"Er—right; lunch! Do you know how to get to the Great Hall from here?" Ron asked interestedly. Food had always been an enticing subject for the boy.
"Oh yes, it's right this way; I spent our first day here mapping out the course to classes," she said enthusiastically. Then she blushed slightly and looked at her feet. "I could—make a copy of the directions…if you wanted?" she looked up.
Ron smiled, though he was blushing furiously. "Yes, if you wouldn't mind." He was surprised at the tone he took. It was light; careful, almost.
She's not that bad…
************
"Occaecototus!" the lord of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry exclaimed as he felt the wards he had erected around the Room of Erised collapse.
He had feared this; feared that Lord Voldemort would find a way to return to the castle that he had once sought to teach at. And now it appeared that his fears were realised; Lord Voldemort had entered the Room of Erised. How he had managed it, when his latest reports told him he resided in a forest deep in Albania, was unimportant at the moment.
Only the Dark Lord or he, Albus Dumbledore, could have collapsed the wards so readily. He had spent more than two hours setting up various enchantments and protections on the sole entryway to the room: The doorway.
Before Albus Dumbledore exited his office to confront the Dark Lord, he did something he had only ever done twice in his office. He collapsed the anti-Apparation wards.
With a very soft, almost inaudible pop, Albus Dumbledore disappeared from his office.
Upon his entering the Room of Erised, Albus Dumbledore, wand in hand, aimed to get a curse off. But before he did, the room's other occupant spun on his heel, tears in his eyes, and shouted at him.
"I know you're there! Who are you?" Harry shouted out, his own wand brandished before Dumbledore's.
Harry pointed his wand at Dumbledore, though Dumbledore remained unseen, and fired off a spell.
A jet of electric blue arced across the room, heading directly for where Dumbledore stood. Albus Dumbledore was completely dumbfounded and only just managed to Disapparate before the curse would have hit him.
He reappeared on the other side of the room, behind the draped object. Behind the object or not, he was still in Harry's sights—unseeing as it may have been.
Dumbledore marveled at the boy's ability to fire off a jet of pure magical energy, for the headmaster knew the boy's jet to be just that. He could feel it—raw energy felt different than any other curse or spell; it was unaltered and unrefined, wild in its presentation.
Another jet of light streaked toward Dumbledore, this one brilliantly white. In a brighter room it would have been nearly invisible, but the Room of Erised was dark, as it lacked windows; magical or otherwise. He had only just managed to Disapparate out of its course—the wall behind him was not quite as lucky and had a severe scorch marked marring its once beautiful stonework.
"Don't try and hide! I feel you! Show yourself!" Harry shouted wildly. The rational side of Dumbledore, the side that wasn't trying to avoid the energy Harry was shooting at him, recognised that Harry was quite upset and in a powerfully negative emotional state.
He was forced to avoid yet another jet of light—red in colour—as he Disapparated, before he had the opportunity to shout out, "Wait, Harry!"
Harry froze. He recognised the voice. "Show yourself!" he shouted uncertainly.
"Occaecototumnixe!" he muttered, his wand pointed at his chest, effectively dispelling his guise of invisibility. "Please calm yourself, Harry!" he commanded in a light, but firm, tone.
"P-Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked, disbelieving. Recognition seemed to dawn on his face and he immediately looked both very embarrassed and ashamed. His face then gained the quality of dread and fear.
"Yes, Harry. May I ask what you are doing in this room?" he asked, leaving out that he shouldn't possibly have been able to enter the room. Unless Severus was right… a voice in his head reminded him. He dreaded the possibility.
"I—erm… I was—er… wandering the halls and just… found it?" he offered feebly.
Dumbledore knew that he was lying, or at least concealing the full truth, and greatly lamented his inability to access Harry's mind. Just in case, he checked the boy's Occlumency shields, hoping to see into his mind and extract the truth. It irked him greatly that he was unable to access him and was beginning to understand Severus' frustration. He found himself as unable to access the boy's mind as he was the previous afternoon.
"Very well, Harry. Might I ask why you felt compelled to attack me?" He was more curious about how the boy knew of his presence. Only a select few could actually see through an Invisibility charm, but even then, the boy had spun around upon Dumbledore's arrival, seemingly having sensed him, rather than see him.
"I—I…er…" he seemed to be struggling to answer his headmaster's question. Then recognition dawned on his face. "You were there yesterday in the Four Corners' Passageway! I felt you there! Were—were we not supposed to be there?" he asked, seemingly afraid that he had been caught; and by the Headmaster, no less!
"It is quite all right, Harry. That particular passageway, as it is not well-known, is not forbidden. But," the headmaster said, "might I ask exactly how it was that you knew of my presence both then and now?" He was very interested to know how the boy could detect him whilst he was invisible.
"Your—er—well, magic, I guess. It feels different… stronger, somehow. I can… it's like a tingling in my stomach. I can feel the magic whenever anyone is around, but it's stronger with you than most people…" Harry explained, blushing slightly. His face then scrunched up slightly in thought. "Well, no… that's not quite true. I couldn't feel my relatives… but maybe that is because they don't have any magic in them, as they're Muggles…"
Dumbledore's eyebrows rose beyond his hairline. The boy could sense him in such a way? The phenomenon had been recorded before, but it was always with enchantments and had only ever happened to those who were older and more powerful than Harry. Dumbledore himself could sense magicks, but not the magicks of people, just those that resided inside of charmed or cursed objects and in rooms that had been warded.
It did not escape his notice, however, that Harry said his magic was more powerful than most people's. This, he reasoned, meant that someone within the walls of this school was more powerful than he, or would be someday. Most curious, he thought. I must look into this.
"I see. That is most interesting, Harry. The gift that you possess is a rare one indeed. One that, I confess, I have not been blessed with." Dumbledore could not resist, it was important that he know. "Harry," he said slowly, "have you felt any… evil presences here at Hogwarts? Darker presences than is average, that is to say."
Harry's eyes narrowed slightly before he nodded slowly. "Yes… There have been a few… but I don't know what it means. There are some that are… mixed, as well. Like they are both bad, but still good; if that makes any sense."
Dumbledore was excited now. This could help him be assured of the school's safety. "Who, Harry? Whose presences are these that are so unusual or Dark?"
Harry looked very hesitant now, as if he wished nothing more than to not say who it was that was Dark. "Professor Snape," he admitted slowly, glancing around as if expecting the Potions Master to jump out of the walls and dock points from Gryffindor. "And Draco Malfoy… a few of the Slytherins in my Potions class—I don't know their names—and a couple of Ravenclaws and a Gryffindor from Charms. I don't know about any of the Hufflepuffs, though; I haven't had classes with them yet."
Albus Dumbledore was not surprised by Harry's mentioning of his Potions professor. Dumbledore knew of the man's history with the Dark Arts, but disregarded Harry's words. He firmly believed that Severus Snape had reformed and was now as much a practitioner of the Dark Arts as he himself was, which was to say not at all.
But the inclusion of so many students was disturbing. Certainly it had been worse in times passed, but the number was uncommonly high considering the peace their world was currently enjoying. It was even more disquieting that the students he had named could only have been first years. None of this accounted for the older, currently more able, students.
"Harry, I must ask that you learn the names of these people whom cast off so ill an aura. It is quite important that I know of these things," the headmaster said in a deadly serious tone. He didn't like resorting to using students as informants, but it was imperative that he know the identity of all possible threats. It was with this reasoning that he justified his use of Legilimency.
Harry seemed uncertain, but nodded his assent.
"Now, Harry, I believe your lunch hour is already up, but I would like you to do one more thing for me before you depart for your History lesson. Do you see this draped object?" he asked, indicating the Mirror of Erised beside him.
Harry nodded, "Yes, sir, I do."
"I would like you to pull back the cloth which covers it and gaze upon it. I would like you to tell me what you see."
"What should I be seeing, Headmaster? It is just a large mirror, isn't it?" Harry asked. The cloth which sheltered the shield was not fully fastened, so the shiny surface of the mirror was plainly obvious.
"This mirror, Harry, is a most extraordinary magical object. It is called the Mirror of Erised. It shall show you your greatest desire; what you seek most desperately, what you long for most," the wizened old man explained to his pupil. "Though I must warn you; it shows neither truth nor future, only the desires of your heart. Men have succumbed to madness contemplating whether the images of the mirror were images of the future, apparitions of the past, or pure fiction entirely."
Harry nodded slowly, indicating that he understood, before walking toward the mirror. He slowly reached out a hand and withdrew the cloth obscuring most of the mirror from his view.
The mirror itself, Harry quickly understood, was not only magical, but purely beautiful. The silver, reflective surface gleamed brightly, despite the lack of light in the room. The surroundings of the reflective glass were made of highly polished gold that also seemed to glimmer in the dim light.
He gasped in shock and surprise as he saw the image in the mirror, before he blushed a deep, brick red colour. He stared for a moment, mumbling under his breath something that Harry could not make out. Then he looked at Dumbledore. "I—I see myself… here at Hogwarts. I'm teaching," he lied wildly.
Dumbledore recognised Harry's words for what they were—blatant lies—though he was curious whether Harry actually would like to one day teach at Hogwarts. He would have to contemplate both thoughts later. Perhaps, if Harry survives his destiny, I will no longer be in constant need of a Defence teacher? he thought hopefully.
"Harry, I need you to continue looking at the mirror. Gaze at it until I tell you otherwise, do you understand Harry?" If Harry wasn't going to tell him what it was that he saw, he would have to be crafty about finding out by himself.
Harry nodded once again and gazed upon the Mirror of Erised. His face stretched into a pleasant, happy smile. Dumbledore was loath to use the underhand technique he was about to utilise, but the identity of Harry's deepest, most desperate desire was a matter of both professional and personal interest.
Dumbledore peered into Harry's eyes, seeing the reflection of the mirror's reflection in them. It was hazy, but he saw the form of a young person with long, flowing red hair—a girl, he surmised—who was waving at him and seemed to be blushing. Or perhaps she was sun burnt.
Dumbledore was very surprised. He had contemplated on many occasions what Harry's most desperate desire might have been, but a young red-haired girl was definitely not what he had imagined. He had thought, perhaps, Harry would have seen his parents, or perhaps the Dursleys, but not this girl.
He would have to examine the student files in his office to discover the identity of this girl. Unless, of course, it was a friend from Harry's childhood. Regardless, he would have to look into the matter and discover the red-head's identity. Harry was simply too important for Dumbledore to merely overlook the boy's deepest desire.
"Thank you, Harry. Now, I believe you must be off to History of Magic," he said, dismissing the extraordinary boy before him.
"Yes, Professor. Though I think I might be late," Harry said with worry in his voice.
"Do not despair, Harry. In the more than one hundred years that Professor Binns has taught here, he has yet to record a single absence or tardy. Though, I daresay, Messieurs Fred and George Weasley are certainly pushing their luck." His eyes twinkled brightly at the thought of the twin red-headed lads.
Harry chuckled appreciatively and said good-bye to his headmaster. He had seized the brass handle of the door when he looked back at the headmaster. "Professor? What do you see in the Mirror of Erised?"
Dumbledore was surprised that he had asked such a question. "I, Harry, am quite fond of socks. Every year I am sent books, as I am mistaken for an intellectual, but never a single pair of socks. So, I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks, with a large smile on my face," he lied. It would not do to have a student aware of Headmaster Dumbledore's deepest, most desperate desire.
Harry smiled and Dumbledore noticed that a Muggle light bulb seemed to go off in his brain. "All right, good-bye, Headmaster." He exited the room and closed the door behind him.
And then Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot, Chief Warlock of the International Confederation of Wizards, began to repair the wards that an emotionally shaken first year student had torn asunder without so much as a conscious thought.
************
Harry walked through the halls, searching for History of Magic. Only a few moments after he had left the room, he had kicked himself for not asking for directions to History of Magic, but he was too embarrassed to actually return and ask. Headmaster Dumbledore had entrusted him with a special task and he didn't want to seem unable to find his class, let alone sense the goodness or badness of others.
Well, Ginevra, it would appear that I am lost. And so he was. He was certain that he had never been in this section of the castle before. The only clue to his whereabouts that he could ascertain was that he was definitely not on the perimeter of the castle, as he could not see the grounds, nor were there windows lining the walls.
You're bound to come across someone you can follow. But I think you're going to miss History of Magic, she said, fighting the blush that she knew was threatening to spread across her cheeks and ignoring the tingling in her spine from Harry's use of her given name.
I'll just have to ask Ron if it was as boring as Fred and George say it is. If it is, I don't know how much time I'll spend in their anyway. Ginny giggled at this. She knew perfectly well that the twins were telling the truth. Her brothers had told her enough times (though Percy adamantly stuck up for the ghost teacher) that Binns' class was just below being forced to act like Percy for a year and just above enduring six years of the Transmogrifian Torture.
Yes, I can imagine that acting like Percy would be pretty bad—and for a year! …but what is the Transmogrifian Torture? Harry asked in morbid fascination.
************
Forty-five minutes later, Harry was standing outside of a greenhouse on the Hogwarts grounds for Herbology. He had come across a sixth year while wandering the corridors and the student had given him instructions on how to get down to the grounds, as it was too late for him to go to History of Magic.
"Harry! Where've you been, mate? You missed the most boring class in the world!" Ron said with enthusiasm despite the apparently dull class he had just escaped from. "Binns, he's the ghost that teaches it, he just droned on and on about some goblin rebellion for an hour and then told us to write an essay about a goblin, that was it. It was so dull; I fell asleep in the middle," Ron's face took on a darker quality, "and that Granger girl hit me about it and told me to wake up. Bonkers, that one."
The two friends entered the greenhouse, which was very warm considering that the day outside was rather gray, and took a spot next to Neville Longbottom, who seemed to be bouncing in anticipation of their class.
The greenhouse smelled heavily of earth and what had to be manure, causing a cacophony of stench to assault Harry's nostrils. Can you smell that, Gin? Harry asked with a crinkled nose.
Ginny was holding her nose, Think of something else, Harry! It smells terrible!
Er… Professor Snape in pink robes? McGonagall tap-dancing? Malfoy in a tutu? he joked feebly, doing as Ginny had asked.
He felt Ginny chuckle lightly at his meager attempt at humour; it seemed to have worked, however, because neither was thinking about the appalling smell that Greenhouse One gave off in copious amounts.
There were ten greenhouses at Hogwarts. The higher the number of the greenhouse, the more dangerous the plants that were housed there were. Each greenhouse had numerous dividers inside to keep the more hazardous or finicky plants away from the ones that were genial and easy to care for.
Also, plants that had special needs, such as an excess of water or sunlight, were kept in their own respective dividers, making things very organised considering the controlled chaos that Herbology turned out to be.
The door opened once more, admitting their teacher, Professor Sprout. Harry thought that her name was appropriate for a teacher of Herbology. Professor Sprout herself was a short, plump witch with graying hair and a smell of earth about her. Her hair seemed askew and her hands were covered with a pair of thick-looking leather gloves.
Not leather, Harry, that's Dragonhide, Ginny informed him. Bill wears Dragonhide boots all of the time and Charlie has probably got more clothes made from Dragonhide than he has from cotton. Bill says it's really useful against spells and the elements, but I think he and Charlie both just like how it looks.
"Hello everyone, my name is Professor Sprout. You are here to learn to care for and identify magical plants and learn their properties and uses. This class will have very little theoretical work, so I want everyone who comes to this class to be prepared to do some actual work and not just write essays."
Most of the class seemed relieved at her words, no one more so than Neville Longbottom, but Hermione seemed to deflate slightly. She seemed to have a knack at writing essays and Harry suspected that she didn't want to venture into anything that she wasn't proficient in already. She still seemed quite attentive and excited to be working with the magical plants, however.
"Today we will, for the most part, be going over the safety procedures and what is to be expected of you here in this class," Professor Sprout informed then. "The plants in this greenhouse are not particularly dangerous, but as you progress here at Hogwarts the plants will become more dangerous and some of them will even be lethal."
The class perked up considerably at her words and some students seemed to be craning their necks in a vain search for such potentially fatal plants, despite Professor Sprout's having informed them of their absence from Greenhouse One.
"Because so many of the plants are dangerous, you must be very careful. I do not want any accidents in my classes, is that understood?" most of the class nodded nervously at her question, though Neville Longbottom, who usually cowered and shied away from everyone in any other class, nodded curtly and with confidence.
"Good. Now…" Professor Sprout continued to speak, but Harry's attention was caught by the sudden feeling of his headmaster's aura. He smiled to himself.
Do you think he's spying on me or someone else, Ginevra? he asked her in amusement.
He knows that you can tell when he's there. Maybe he just regularly inspects the teachers? Ginny offered. She, too, was curious who the Headmaster was spying on.
Do you think I'd be allowed to ask him after class? Harry asked Ginny, not that she would know, of course.
I dunno, Harry. Probably. He knows that you can feel him, so maybe this is his way of asking you to speak with him?
Yeah, maybe, Gin, Harry agreed.
Oh! Maybe he wants to ask you if you have sensed anyone else that he should know about? I think it's kind of odd that he is asking a student to spy on people for him, though… Ginny seemed troubled that Albus Dumbledore, who had always been hailed as a hero, was having an eleven year old boy spy on students.
Harry shrugged it off. Harry was proud that Headmaster Dumbledore had entrusted him with this. He didn't understand why the headmaster was asking him to do this specifically when the man seemed to know everything that happened in the school already.
Unless that's how he knows everything that happens there at Hogwarts; by having people spy on everyone, Ginny supplied.
Harry and Ginny continued to ponder how the Headmaster seemed to know everything and whether he was there to speak with Harry or not until Ron nudged Harry in the ribs painfully.
"Come on, mate, the bell's rung and you're here staring off into space."
"Sorry. Just thinking too much, I guess," Harry said with a smirk. He didn't have to feel bad about lying to Ron, because, technically, he wasn't. He was thinking too much. Just… not by, or to, himself.
"Yeah, Harry, you do think too much. I don't know how you knew all of that stuff in Charms today, but did you see the look on that Granger girl's face? She's such a know-it-all, and then you go and put her in her place. Why does she have to be so—"
"Ron, she's not that bad. If you say another word about her I'm going to hex you. I've read a few good ones and Malfoy isn't here right now to help me test them!" Harry snapped. People being called names was something of a sore spot for Harry, who had spent the last ten years of his life being called 'a freak' or any number of nasty names by both his relatives and his schoolmates. He didn't want to hear his friend doing it about someone who, in his mind, simply didn't deserve it.
Ron looked ashamed of himself. "Sorry, Harry," he mumbled.
"Don't apologise to me Ron," Harry said commandingly, "apologise to Hermione. She just ran right passed us when you said that stuff."
Ron looked as if the last thing he wanted to be doing right now was apologising to Hermione Granger and opened his mouth to protest.
"Go, Ron!" Harry commanded. He didn't want Hermione feeling bad just because Ron was being a thoughtless git.
The tone of Harry's voice made Ron run off. "Hermione!" he shouted, trying to stop her, but she kept running. When Ron caught up to her, Harry turned.
"Hello, Professor," Harry greeted the invisible man.
"That was a good thing you just did, Harry," the headmaster said proudly.
Harry blushed. "Thank you, sir. I just don't like to see people get bullied or called names after…" Harry trailed off.
"Can I help you, Professor?" he asked, trying to steer their conversation to less painful subjects. He didn't want to have a repeat of his earlier incident. After spilling his soul to Ginny the night before, the Dursleys were a very raw subject, even in his own mind.
"No, I was just stopping in to see how you and your classmates were doing in your Herbology lesson. I often stop in to check in on the teachers. My office can be so very boring sometimes, you see.
"But, seeing (or perhaps not) as I am here, have you noticed any other students who have given off a sensation of darkness?" Headmaster Dumbledore inquired.
"No, sir. I was—er… not very focused in this last class, but if it were anything strong, like Snape—"
"Professor Snape, Harry."
"Yes, Professor Snape or like Draco Malfoy, I'd have noticed. There is something though, but I'm not sure if it was a Gryffindor or not…" Harry trailed off.
"Professor?" Harry said, "Can I ask you one question?"
"Ah, Harry, I'm afraid you must be more careful with your phrasing. You have just asked one question, but I shall allow you a second." Harry imagined that the headmaster had a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.
"Yes, sir; sorry, sir," Harry responded automatically, to Dumbledore's surprise. "Sir, I was wondering why you want me to spy on other students for you… Surely a staff member, or you yourself, could do it? I—I don't want to be reporting on my friends, Professor."
"Ah, Harry, you ask a difficult question. One which can be answered thusly: You have a gift, Harry. Your ability to feel what magic is inherently good or evil is very valuable in a place that fosters those who could one day use the very knowledge we bestow upon them here against us.
"I am not capable of doing what you can, Harry. Nor, to my knowledge, is any other member of the faculty or student body. The gift you possess is very rare. It has never been known, as far as I am aware, to have been attained without numerous enchantments, a great deal of power, and significantly more magical prowess than any first year possesses.
"I do not wish for you to spy on your friends for me, Harry. But I think you should realise that someone who gives off an aura of Dark magic is probably not someone that you want to associate with."
"But sir, Professor Snape teaches here and his aura is one of the darkest I've felt, sir," Harry said.
Professor Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, but I would trust Professor Snape with my life, Harry. He can be trusted, despite the magical, and emotional, feelings he often instills in those that experience an unsavory encounter with the man.
"And now, Harry," Dumbledore began, "I believe that, if you've nothing to tell me, that we should both be off back to the castle."
Harry nodded his agreement and the unseen professor and the in-plain-sight pupil returned to the sanctuary that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
***********
Harry entered the Great Hall, which Professor Dumbledore had led him to, to find it filled with students. He stopped for a moment, making an attempt to sense any negative magicks around him. Unfortunately for him, it was nearly impossible to do so in such a crowded room, one that contained nearly one thousand people. It also didn't help that Harry had absolutely no idea how he could focus his ability to feel the presences of others; it was completely wild.
Sighing to himself, Harry continued on through the hall, trying to spot a red-head that he could use to find the Gryffindor table. Aren't you hungry, Harry? Ginny asked. You haven't eaten since dinner last night, and even then you didn't eat much. You wanted to go off and learn spells with the twins.
I am hungry, Harry told her, But it's not that bad. You have to remember that the Dursleys would make me go a week or more without food and not think twice of it. I guess my stomach just holds on to the food that it does get longer.
He could feel Ginny's sadness at his mention of what the Dursleys had done to him. It's all right, Ginevra. I don't have to worry about it anymore. I'm here now; I've got you now, even if it's only in my head, he said, smiling fondly. And besides, he added with a grin, if the Dursleys try anything, I can always just threaten to turn them into dung beetles.
He could feel Ginny laugh at the idea of the Dursleys as insects, whether this was out of pure humourous thinking or because she intended to do just that when she turned seventeen was unclear.
Harry continued to walk along the tables that seated the Hogwarts students before he spotted a shock of red hair at what must have been the Gryffindor table. The spot next to him was empty, so Harry saw fit to occupy it. He walked over to Ron and sat down.
"Hello, Ron," Harry greeted. "Did you apologise to Hermione?"
"Hello, Harry," Ron replied. "And yes, I did. Happy now?" he grumbled. Harry hadn't known Ron for very long, only a few days, but he didn't need Ginny telling him that Ron was both very proud and very stubborn to realise it.
"Good."
Harry seized a platter with chicken legs on it and began to put several on his plate. He really was hungry. He then grabbed a platter of potatoes and put one on his plate before grabbing a jug of pumpkin juice that looked to be perspiring. He had tried it the night before, initially thinking that it would be quite disgusting, but was pleasantly surprised at its taste.
Harry and Ron made small talk for the next ten minutes between their bites and mouthfuls of food. Harry and Ginny also conversed in the time that Harry would be chewing his food, as his mouth was thoroughly unnecessary for conversing with her when the opposite was true with Ron.
"Harry?" Ron asked about ten minutes after Harry had begun to devour the food before him. "Where do you go at night?"
Initially Harry was worried that Ron was going to ask why he had run off earlier that day, but it appeared that Ron had decided to overlook its having ever happened. Now, Harry would have preferred the other question.
"What do you mean, Ron?" Harry asked weakly.
"I mean that I never see you come in at night, but you're always in your bed in the morning. You're never in the common room before I go to bed and you never walk up to the tower with me. Where do you go?" he asked the last phrase slowly, deliberately.
Harry sighed. "I don't sleep that well, Ron," he confessed. It was true, he did have problems sleeping, but that wasn't why he was always out. "I wander the castle for a while until I get tired enough that I think I can fall asleep." Now that was a lie. That wasn't the reason he was out late and he didn't wander the halls. But he couldn't tell Ron what he was teaching the twins, could he? And he certainly couldn't tell him what the twins were teaching him. He resolved to try to teach Ron some of the spells he had learned from the twins once he felt he had a good grasp on them.
Ron sighed, causing Harry to wonder whether he knew that he was being lied to. "All right, mate. If you want company on one of those strolls of yours, I'll go with you once or twice. Not tonight, though. I'm dead tired."
"I might take you up on that, Ron," Harry said. He wouldn't mind wandering the corridors with Ron; he would just have to tell the twins first, is all.
Come on, Harry, go find the twins so we can learn some more spells! Ginny said in his mind. She concentrated as hard on learning what the twins taught Harry as much as he did.
Harry smiled slightly and craned his head out, looking around for Fred and George. He found them at the end of the table, talking with Lee Jordan. Fred was laughing at something Lee had just said, but George looked right at Harry, nodded, and mouthed "twenty minutes!"
Harry nodded slightly in recognition and returned to his plate.
Twenty five minutes later, after telling Ron that he was going to go for a walk, Harry met up with the twins outside of the doors of the Great Hall.
"Hey, Harry," the twins greeted simultaneously, "We're going to give you the grand tour and then we'll head up to the castle and do some spells."
Harry laughed at their uniform-style of speaking. He nodded his agreement and they were off. Fred and George led him outside onto the grounds and showed him all the sights there were to see. They walked passed a large tree that Fred warned him would hit him if he got too close; they walked passed Hagrid's Hut, which lied on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, which Fred and George assured him they would give him the tour of on a different night.
Fred and George walked him by the Black Lake and told him about a giant squid that lived in the centre of it. They told him that in the spring it would play with students who decided to brave the dark waters.
When Harry mentioned to them that he had never learnt to swim, they immediately looked appalled and told Harry that they would teach him when the weather warmed up enough. Harry was excited at this; he had never been allowed to join the swimming group that Dudley had. Harry supposed that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia forbade him from it in the hopes that he might one day find himself in deep water and drown. He chuckled darkly at the thought while he felt Ginny sniffle a little.
After another hour or so of being given the tour of the grounds, they were forced inside by the deep cold of the night air. Early September in the Scottish Highlands, it seemed, was a very cold time.
Fred and George led him back into the castle through an ivy-covered doorway on the east side of the castle. Harry had been in this corridor before, he realised. He recognised the chill of the air and realised that it was due to the doorway in the wall. He looked back at the door only to find that the door had disappeared.
"Oh yeah," Fred said, seeing Harry's surprise and following his gaze, "That door is always there, but you can never see it from the inside. You just have to do this," he tapped the wall with his wand and the wall opened, "to get out. Tap it again and it closes." He demonstrated by rapping his wand on the open section of wall; it promptly shut, accompanied by the soft sound of a lock clicking.
"It locks," George informed him, "so you have to use the password 'Laever' to unlock it before you open it from the outside. It's always unlocked from the inside, if you know where to find it."
Harry followed the twins up and down several staircases and down three long corridors before they stopped at a door. "This room's never used. So I think this is where we'll hold our little practises from now on. It's just off to the right of the Great Hall, so from there just go here. It's pretty easy to find."
He opened the door, revealing the room to be bare except for a few derelict chairs and a couple of desks that were either melted or cleaved down the middle.
"They store broken stuff in here; Filch cleans it out every Monday morning, so this is all that's been broken since term started," Fred informed Harry.
"Okay, so let's get started then!" Fred's twin exclaimed.
Harry smiled at the antics of the two, slightly insane, brothers. "Okay, I've been thinking about your guys' trouble with nonverbal spells. I think that you should start out by whispering it and then I'll ask Professor Flitwick to show me a Silencing charm," seeing the panicked look on the faces of the twins, he added, "Don't worry! If it'll help you cast spells nonverbally, you shouldn't complain about me asking a teacher for extra instruction!"
The twins looked to have been put in their places, so Harry continued. "Like I said, I'll ask Professor Flitwick to show me a Silencing charm and then I'll cast it on both of you. Then you can just do the magic normally, but you won't make any sound when you use the incantation. That should make it easier for you to learn it. Okay?" The twins nodded. "Good; now, since we need to wait on that, you guys can teach me a few spells in the meantime."
Harry and Ginny smirked at the position the twins were now put in. They had devised this while Harry ambled about the grounds with the twins. Harry's suggestion (which Ginny had actually had the original idea for) to the twins should work, so they couldn't fault him there. It also didn't hurt that now Harry got some undivided time to learn some spells that could be used against Draco Malfoy the next time he was being a git. Which, Harry realised, was mostly probably the next day.
The twins appeared flabbergasted. "Er—okay, then, I guess," one of them managed to get out, Harry wasn't sure which.
"Erm… what do you want to learn then, Harry? Shield spell, hex, curse, jinx, charm, what?" asked the other twin.
"Teach me a charm that I could use in a duel," Harry suggested.
The twins grinned evilly. "All right, Harrykins, I think we have one that you could find… useful." Harry was a bit concerned about the tone the twins were using. Anything that they found useful, Harry and Ginny both considered to be potentially lethal.
"There's a spell that does the same thing as throwing a punch. It's dead useful, but I think we're going to have to practise it on each other. Don't worry, I don't think that it will be that difficult to do and I think we can agree not to use it too powerfully. Oh! And no hitting anywhere were someone will see it." Now Harry was definitely worried. The twins were far too cheerful about the thought of punching each other.
And then Harry realised what they intended to do and it hit him like a ton of bricks. He paled as he felt Ginny laugh as well as make a sympathetic noise.
"Er… can we agree no hitting below the belt?" Harry asked hopefully.
The twins' faces instantly fell. "Well, all right, I suppose. But we can't promise that our aim is that spectacular…"
Harry groaned. "Okay, what's the incantation?"
"Pulsat!" the twins shouted, their wands pointed at Harry. A bolt of displaced air, rippling the atmosphere around it, streaked toward Harry from the twins, who were standing only a few metres away from him.
"Obtego!" Harry shouted in his mind, focusing on erecting a shield that would block the incoming spell. He forced all of the magic that he could into it, making the red energy before him surge wildly.
The two spells ran into his shield, demolishing it instantly. Harry was hit twice in the chest by their spells. It did indeed feel like a punch. It brought back memories of beatings from Dudley and his gang and from Uncle Vernon. Harry felt the urge to run, but held his ground. H wanted to learn this spell.
I'm going to murder those two! Ginny shouted in Harry's mind. He grinned widely at her protectiveness of him. It felt nice to have someone who looked out for him, even if that someone was hundreds of miles away and happened to be thirteen months younger than he.
Harry's grin seemed to derail Fred and George, because they looked at him with curiosity. "What are you smiling about, you nutter?" George asked, laughing.
"This," he said, pointing his wand at George and intoning the Punching charm in his mind. The jet arced toward him and Harry sent another at Fred. They were hit, one after the other, in a place they would not likely forget being hit.
"Hmm," Harry said, holding back a laugh, "I think I've got the hang of it."
"Yeah, mate," one of the twins said, on his knees and clutching himself. "You've got it great," he said, coughing and sputtering.
"I think," the other twin choked out, "that that is all for tonight."
Harry laughed openly at the twins, who were choking, coughing, holding on to themselves, and speaking in a higher pitch than normal. Harry could feel Ginny rolling on the ground, laughing herself silly at Harry's revenge.
Harry half-dragged, half-carried the two older boys back to their common room, with the twins directing him where to go. It was arduous work, but they plainly refused to walk and Harry needed them in order to find his way back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry thought, however, that their show of getting their feet stuck on ever random step, nook, and cranny they could find was a bit over the top.
Finally, after an hour of trudging up and down the halls of Hogwarts, Harry and the twins arrived at Gryffindor Tower. Harry had threatened to Bat-Bogey the twins if they didn't start walking of their own power, so about half-way through they began to go on their own.
The twins took Harry in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, said the password (still "Caput Draconis") and Harry entered. The twins, unbeknownst to him, didn't follow him into the room and went down to the kitchens to nick some food.
Harry trudged up to his dormitory, fell on his bed, and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
He didn't see Ron sitting in the common room, waiting for him, nor did he see the satisfied look on his face as Harry entered the common room alone.
A/N:Where have I been? I know, I know. Life's demanded my attention, there's not much more to say than that. But anyway, this is twelve, and you can expect thirteen much more quickly than this, my last. I hope you've enjoyed your stay.
