OLD MAGIC

Chapter 14: Hogwarts Lends a Protective Hand

A/N: Yes, I know it's been a very long time since I posted but was working on a horror competition entry, my first non-fan fic story. I've more or less finished it but I need a break so I've come back here and am trying to get caught up a bit. Now I know many of you will have noted I'm not keeping the school schedule the same as the show or book. No where did it answer what the kids did in those large gaps of time when they had no classes so I thought to keep them more busy. Remember, this is not CANON. Thank you for your patience and I hope not to let so much time pass again but life seems to always have other plans.

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The next morning shone bright and sunny though fall's cool temperatures was beginning to be felt by the signs of frost on the ground through the windows and the chilliness of the dorm rooms when one woke. Harry shivered a bit as he and his dorm mates hurriedly dressed. Warmth was found at the breakfast table as they dug hungrily into the bounty set before them. As he dug into his own large portion of eggs, hash, toast, and bacon, Harry received a light knock on his shields.

"Good morning, professor."

"Good morning, Harry. I and Hagrid met last night to discuss the problem of Professor Quirrell. Here's the gist of what we discussed..." Snape went on to brief him on who they suspected was the evil spirit, how they hoped to destroy it, and what part he would play in it all. "Do you have any questions?"

"None I can think of right now. It's a dangerous thing you all plan. I hope it works." Though concerned and troubled by what he'd been told, Harry never let on outwardly that anything was amiss as he drank a healthy swallow of his pumpkin juice and continued the conversation.

"You are in the most danger, Harry. That thing could try to possess you, which was why I was adverse to the plan in the first place."

Harry nearly choked on his toast at that statement but he was also a bit pleased by the warm concern Professor Snape had for him. "I can certainly understand why, sir. But I promise to stay alert and get out of the way when the trap is sprung. That's the best I can do." He paused as a sad reminder occurred to him. "It's too bad Professor Quirrell must die, though."

Snape felt warmth in his heart at Harry's compassion for someone he barely knew. "Yes, I agree but it really is a kindness as there's very little of the poor man's soul left."

"I know," Harry sighed.

"You be careful around him, Harry. We don't know how long we must wait to implement the plan so keep your mind closed tightly and never be alone with him. We don't want him to get even a hint that we're on to him. Wine is shadowing him at this moment. I know he's careful but...

"He's more than careful, sir, but I know that evil thing could still sniff him out. I'll warn him to be watchful but there's nothing we can do if that happens. At least Wine is able to take care of himself and get away quickly," Harry interrupted.

"I'm certain he can, Harry," Snape agreed then sighed. "I sincerely hope the plan succeeds and it's who we think it is."

"As do I. It would mean we're finally free of him and averted more years of war," Harry said, flashing a grim, mental smile at Snape.

Snape returned it before saying, "Enjoy your day."

"You too, sir," Harry returned warmly before cutting the connection.

He sighed mentally as he finished his breakfast and prepared to leave for his first class. He hated the thought that yet another person had to die because of that vile spirit. Shoving the sadness away, he rose and joined Ron and Hermione as they left for Charms class.

As he prepared to listen to Professor Flitwick, the incredibly short-statured man teaching Charms, he mused on how strange the course schedule was for this school. Unlike the normal British one, Hogwarts had their students only take four classes a day and different ones at that. Of course, each class was also incredibly long, nearly two hours. They had two breaks, one before lunch and one after. At first, he couldn't fathom why they'd need two breaks until he saw how much they had to do for each class (like research or supplies they had to collect) and the distance between many of the classes. He hadn't really believed Hermione when she said they had to keep their calories up until he realized how much he burned just getting from class to class...lots of stair climbing, outdoor classes far from the castle, etc..

Impossible to be obese around here, he thought, amused, remembering his portlier classmates in the muggle world.

His ruminations ended abruptly when a classmate sitting a few seats from him, set fire to his feather he was supposed to only levitate. Harry's nose wrinkled in distaste at the nasty smell. Getting his attention back to the class, he performed the spell flawlessly just as Hermione had beside him. Ron scowled unhappily as he failed over and over again, not able to figure out what he was doing wrong.

Hermione sighed and shook her head. When they were directed to practice, she spent the next thirty minutes trying to get him to stop waving his wand as if it were a weapon or orchestra baton, and to listen and watch as she demonstrated several times for him. However, even with the professor's assistance and advice, Ron still didn't quite get it.

"Don't worry, Ron. You just need to practice and speak the words a bit more slowly and distinctly," Harry encouraged the disheartened young man with a friendly clap to the shoulder when class ended.

The bell sounded sending them all scurrying to their next class.

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Lunch time arrived as did some later mail deliveries. Mail call was normally breakfast time but apparently, some had gotten in late and was being allowed delivery. Ron had received a newspaper that morning but a letter from his mother had arrived later making him frown as he opened it.

Harry was surprised when Hedwig appeared carrying a small white envelope. He'd not expected any mail yet. After all, it was only the second day of school but his eyes lit up when he saw the tiny symbol on the rear flap. It was a hand displaying two fingers in a universal muggle sign. The only other thing on the envelope was "Harry Potter, great hall, Hogwarts".

He grabbed a piece of bacon from his plate and fed it to Hedwig who happily snapped it up before giving him a brief hoot and taking off for the owlery where she stayed when at the castle. Excited, he hurriedly opened the small envelope and read the short missive. He smiled as he read...

"Dear Harry,

I just wanted to test the mail system which is why you're getting this from me. Hope things are well with you and you're settling in alright. Send back so I know you got this.

Warm regards, D."

"Hey! Whose D. Harry?" Ron asked, finished with his letter that only told him he'd forgotten something at home and his mum would be sending it later.

Harry stuffed the note from Darius back in its envelope and tucked it into an inside pocket of his robes. Giving Ron a small smile, he said, "It's just a friend I know. He was asking how I was settling in and testing the mail service."

Ron frowned at the vague answer but knew better than to pry. "Glad you had friends wherever you'd been kept," he said sincerely.

"Thanks, Ron. You're one of them too you know," Harry said, grinning.

Ron's face lit up. Giving Harry a friendly punch to the arm, he returned to eating his lunch. It made him feel good that Harry considered him a friend. They had only just met and he hadn't been too certain about their relationship yet so the confirmation gladdened his heart because he found the boy fascinating and was glad he'd made friends with him. It wasn't because he was the boy-who-lived, either, he said firmly to himself.

Hermione, sitting on Harry's other side, had been just as curious about the letter but had the good sense to not say anything but was glad Ron had. She wasn't any happier about Harry's vague response but was glad to see real evidence that he had friends outside the school.

After lunch was a break which Harry used to go study alone in the library. Hermione had a class and Ron had a free period so had gone outside to play with his older brothers.

While Harry sat there laboriously writing out his potions homework with the ridiculous quill, pain suddenly struck his scar. Hissing, he reached up to rub it and looked around. Passing a few feet away from his table and heading for the restricted section was Professor Quirrell. Frowning, Harry watched through squinted eyes as the man opened the door and stepped through, vanishing from view. Fortunately, the pain vanished with him.

But the encounter reminded Harry he urgently needed some kind of better protection from that malevolent spirit. It was the word spirit that gave him a possible idea. Looking around, he found himself alone for the moment. Closing his eyes, he opened his shields just a little and reached out to the castle spirit. Seconds later a familiar presence was asking what he wanted.

The spirit didn't communicate in words. It was more feelings and vague impressions but Harry didn't have any difficulties understanding it nor making himself understood. Most weren't aware the castle was even sentient, certainly the students didn't know but the faculty and, of course, Dumbledore did. That was because it refused to communicate with anyone but the current headmaster. But, to Harry's surprise, the spirit had made it plain that it thought Harry was someone special enough to warrant its attention.

Using images rather than words, Harry was able to convey his problem and what he needed from the spirit. He felt immediate anger not at him but at the fact such an evil had managed to penetrate its defenses.

He wisely said nothing and waited. The spirit seemed to rant a bit to itself before it quieted and went silent. It was silent long enough that Harry decided to return to his work while he waited. Some fifteen minutes later, he felt a tapping at his shield and carefully opened it. The spirit conveyed unhappiness and a request that it be notified when the evil was to be eradicated. Harry promised. Then, something that felt like a blanket, covered him. It was some kind of ancient magical spell. The spirit conveyed satisfaction and hoped this would keep Harry free of the evil's influence.

Harry dutifully thanked the spirit and closed his shield. Sighing in relief, he was able to finish his work and just before he was about to pack up and leave for his next class, Professor Quirrell came out of the restricted area looking weary and defeated. He never noticed Harry and, thankfully, Harry no longer felt pain from the evil presence as the Professor left the library. The castle spirit's protection had worked.

Which was a good thing as his next class was with the man. He hadn't relished the idea of nursing a headache through two hours of class time and having to run to Professor Snape for more headache remedy. In a happier mood, he hurried off to class.

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The annoying children had run out an hour ago and he had plans to make about the Potter brat. Quirrell could hear the evil thing muttering to itself which allowed him to do some thinking of his own. He hadn't missed the fact Harry wasn't holding his head in pain like yesterday. Though his back was turned, he could feel the evil spirit try to probe the boy's remarkable shields. It wasn't happy that it failed and growled angrily for hours afterward. But Quirrell was ecstatic. Harry was far stronger than anyone could guess. Also, it appeared the boy had someone aiding him as he wore an extra layer of protection today which had the taste of the castle spirit. Though he couldn't touch the spirit he knew it was there by the way it would occasionally brush against the shields the evil thing had erected around his body to keep itself from being found out.

Oh how he wished he could make contact with it! If he could, he'd be cast out of the castle and maybe even freed but it was a useless dream. The creature was far too powerful and was never careless in maintaining its shields.

He sighed sadly to himself and cast his eyes about the room for lack of anything better to do. He did have papers to grade but the Dark Lord wouldn't let him near the desk as it paced using his body to do it and continued muttering about its grand plan.

Suddenly, his eyes caught sight of a small form slipping into the room and running under one of the many heavy cabinets against the wall. He'd seen this little creature before, following them silently, not drawing attention to itself. It was rather unusual to have a kneazle as a familiar but not unheard of. Whoever it belonged to, it was obvious to Quirrell that it was spying on him.

Did it know what he harbored within? A tiny flame of hope rose within his speck of a soul. Yes! That had to be it! Someone knows! And hopefully that someone would set him free. He nursed that nugget of hope to himself and prayed his nightmare would end soon.