9.2 Schooling
Harry insisted.
Kumori didn't like it, and spent the entire week making a case against it. Exhausted, Harry let her talk, but he knew inside his heart that soon he'd be doing magic spells like an average Hogwarts student. Soon he'd excel at his classes again without feeling like he had mono.
Friday rolled around again, and Harry's body attended breakfast. His mind couldn't wait for Defense, for the amulet that might unchain his abilities.
"Psah, you've seen how exhausted Harry is, Kumori. Let him have his toy, we can't coddle him this year. I won't be around for help next year, and Luna is hardly mentoring material." Jenny scrapped her bacon onto Harry's plate, not feeling like grease in the morning.
Zombie-Harry mechanically shoved the food into his mouth. He didn't care about the extra bacon.
"Heartstring Talismans are serious power." Luna seemed unusually focused this morning. "They are as highly regulated as Time Turners and Perpetual Energy Sources. Unlike a normal wand core, they contain interwoven pieces of the fantastic magical essences. Nundus, Dragons, Kraken, Sphinxes, Phules, and even renowned deceased wizards of high power may donate their hearts."
"You make it sound like these babies are an easy power boost. Why haven't I heard of them before?" Jenny could think of uses for free spell energy.
Kumori appeared in front of Jenny, annoyed. Pink smoke drifted off, and Jenny coughed.
"You are standing in my scrambled eggs."
"I'm not poisonous unless I want to be." Kumori waved a hand in dismissal. "Listen, you haven't heard of those temperamental timebombs for three reasons."
Jenny jabbed a forkful of eggs with great force. Kumori didn't flinch as the blunt metal tines missed her feet.
"First, making them causes their creator to permanently lose a portion of his overall magic. Second, if their wielder isn't compatible with the type of powers inside them, they won't work and may even explode. And I don't mean a small explosion. Third, overuse equals dependency. Learning spells with a talisman may mean they won't work without one."
Jenny expertly ignored the doll, and examined her forkful of eggs. "Ugh, now I don't want these. They have a pink tint. Luna, you want your eggs?"
Not answering, Luna shoved the last of her eggs into her mouth before they could be taken. She nodded with bulging chipmunk cheeks.
"Drat." Jenny really wanted eggs this morning.
"Are you three klutz-kit-teers even listening?" Kumori kicked a spoon in agitation. It clattered across the table and fell onto the floor. The noise was ignored.
"I'm using the talisman." Harry's voice wasn't loud or convincing, but contained a core of immovable steel.
"Good luck with that, time for classes now." Jenny brushed crumbs off her robes and stood up.
Luna, still chewing, also stood. She mumbled an unintelligible encouragement around her eggs, and wandered off.
"Five more hours 'till freedom." Harry muttered. Kumori teleported onto his head, sat, and pouted.
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"Harry Potter, see me after class," said Professor Remus Lupin, dismissing his third year Defense students.
"Don't worry Harry, fearing Professor Snape enough to Boggartize him, isn't a terrible thing. Practice potions a little more, and you'll be OK. He doesn't hate Ravenclaws like Gryffindors."
Harry nodded, and turned. Hermione disappeared before he could thank her. She'd been doing that a lot lately, but it was her business.
When the last student left, Lupin walked over and locked the door to the class. Harry watched him erect better privacy enchantments than last week, and then the professor called Harry over. Reaching inside his patchwork robes, Lupin pulled out a brown pouch and set it on an empty desk.
"Harry, carefully send a pulse of your magic toward this enspelled purse. If it opens, the Heartstring Amulet inside is compatible with your magical core, and won't be devastating the grounds of Hogwarts with a meltdown."
Pulling out his wand, Harry complied.
The small leather bag rocked back and forth, but didn't spit out its contents.
Kumori faded into visibility. "It's a partial. That means explosive aetheric decompression is at least thirty percent possible. Did I mention how stupid and irresponsible I find this plan?"
"Hundreds of times this week." Harry wasn't letting his assigned babysitter screw up his chances at wizarding normality. Partial was good enough for him. He concentrated harder, and felt his wand vibrate, empathizing with his desires.
The leather purse rocked back and forth, finally splitting along the middle. An ugly fist-sized black acorn-like object spilled out. It rolled off the desk and dropped onto the floor.
Remus Lupin flinched, then let out a relieved breath of air when the talisman didn't explode and take out half the castle. Kumori popped away before it hit the floor, leaving the fools behind.
Calmly, Harry walked over and picked it up. The resonation made him feels dirty, but some dark part of him recognized a Heartstring the talisman was composed of. A connection was made.
BAMF! Pink smoke appeared and vanished.
"Ewww. . . you touched it! That's a shriveled baby dragon's heart, preserved in formaldehyde and unicorn mucus." Kumori hated the object's feel; the darkness it radiated meant dead dark wizards contributed the majority of its power.
"At least it doesn't smell." Harry unraveled a string from around the talisman, and proceeded to hang it around his neck. "How do I activate it professor?"
Lupin looked nervous. Dumbledore hadn't told him exactly why such a dark object would find compatibility with Harry's magical core, but the reasons that occurred in his mind disturbed him.
"Just now realizing what this is?" Kumori fluttered in the air and scowled at Lupin. "If you're wearing that thing, I'm not sitting on your head Harry."
Lupin looked apologetic. "It should activate on its own whenever you use magic, Harry. The spells should feel easier, and you should be able to do more. Be careful though, if you push your limits, the talisman may cause uncomfortable magic surges."
"Yeah Harry. If you hardline that cursed object, the inevitable explosion will kill you. Explaining your bumbling demise to Master Amanda isn't a task I relish. So don't push it!" Kumori vanished.
"Whatever." Harry didn't need his happiness spoiled.
Lupin cleared his throat. "Now that you've been released from the restrictions imposed by your underdeveloped magic, I have an additional task for you."
"What sir?" Harry sounded ready.
"Learning the hex of Dementor's demise – Expecto Patronum. We expect our troublesome guests from Azkaban may become impatient eventually, and Professor Dumbledore recommended these lessons. "
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The Patronus Charm had a high level of difficultly. Harry practiced with Professor Lupin twice weekly, but hadn't gotten it by Halloween. Because he and Jenny arrived so late from America, he never obtained permission from the Dursleys for Hogsmeade weekend. Jenny promised candy and presents for him and Luna, so while disappointed, Harry had gotten over it.
Stuck in the castle while other third years explored the magical village, Harry settled down and worked his extra assignments in Charms and Transfiguration in a quiet study area inside Ravenclaw tower. Kumori was with Jenny in town, having maintained a greater distance from Harry since he claimed the Heartstring Amulet.
Harry was repulsed by the slimy dark quality of the power provided by the artifact, but he considered the taint a lesser evil compared with constant exhaustion. For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, Harry Potter was ahead in his classes. It felt good. Though he did regret not spending time with friends, Harry reveled in schoolwork. As a teacher's pet in muggle schools, being a magic dunce was a hard thing for him.
Now that he could work more spells, Harry had driven himself hard. He'd promised himself he'd relax when he was two months ahead in his classes. He estimated the middle of November.
Harry study session was interrupted a short time later when the door of the study closed violently. The Gray Lady, Ravneclaw's ghostly protector, materialized and used her power. Dressed in fourteenth century fashion, she'd elected the ghost's path after failing on her quest for true love. The plague felled her before she found an intellectual equal.
The door leading into Ravenclaw's Tower vanished, and the Gray Lady turned. Annoyed yet respectful, Harry closed his books waited for his house ghost's attention. She floated over and gave him a smile after securing the room.
"What's going on?" Harry had enough material for hours, but he'd never seen one of Hogwart's ghosts behave like that before.
"The wanted criminal Sirius Black has overcome the defenses and entered Ravenclaw tower. The Smart Widow has always feared fire, and Black used that against her. She held out bravely, buying time for swift action. She fled across portrait-space when Black burned her picture and forced his way inside."
Harry paled.
"Don't worry, I cut off our physical connection with the tower's hallways. The only way into this room is direct teleportation."
"I'll be fine." Harry lied. "Don't worry about me, alert the headmaster and professors. Don't let Black escape!"
The attractive face of the Gray Lady hardened. "You are right, Mr. Potter. I'll do my utmost." The ghost vanished with an aetheric wind.
Even with the castle in an alert uproar, Sirius Black eluded capture. Kumori couldn't find him in her sweeps either, which impressed her more than his escape from Azkaban. Though she never caught him, the doll often teleported around the castle, searching for hidden entrances and spots of concealment. As time passed, Kumori's respect for Sirius Black as a worthy opponent grew.
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Kumori gave Harry and Luna strange whistles that would summon her. With Black at large, their group wanted extra protection for the weakest members. The repulsive radiation from the Heartstring Amulet disturbed Kumori, and she accompanied Jenny now. The older witch didn't mind, and often used the doll as a deterrent for younger students too enamored of the Heir of Hufflepuff. Her reputation as the 'Dollmaker' flourished.
The next major incidents passed Harry with little impact. Dementors interrupted the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff Quidditch match, and Professor Lupin took sick for a few days. Professor Snape filled in with malicious glee, and outdid himself in siphoning points away from Gryffindor.
Neville Longbottom received a detention where he had cleaning duty over the hospital bed pans, magic forbidden. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley had a falling out when it appeared her cat Crookshanks ate his rat Scabbers. Harry tried using this as an opportunity to make Hermione a better friend, but she was so busy with her own classes, she never noticed his efforts.
Harry achieved his goal of being ahead in his classes, and Professor Flitwick granted him permission for sitting the History of Magic OWL that summer. The less Binns in his future, the better.
By the time Christmas holidays arrived, Harry could manifest a silvery stream in a partial Patronus, but his patron remained absent. Professor Lupin praised his ability, reminding him such a complex charm was beyond most experienced wizards.
For this first time in almost two years, Harry went home for a visit with the Dursleys.
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In a way, his visit surprised his relatives. The Dursleys had begun thinking of Harry as an upper-class jetsetter, a person of importance who rarely had time for the little people. Dudley encouraged this, and expounded on Harry's virtues during the last summer. It paid off: Petunia agreed with her son that Harry didn't need an open room when his riches overflowed.
When Harry arrived home for the holidays, he found his bedroom no longer existed. Dudley had stolen it, and was using it as a weight training area. Harry had grown past five feet since his absence from Privet Drive, but Dudley's changes put his growth spurt into perspective.
His cousin had found discipline. Weighing in at two hundred nineteen pounds, five-feet seven inches, Dudley Dursley was pure muscle. Now the star of his school's wrestling team, 'The Dude' was no longer a sniveling selfish worm. He was a focused, young adult, with the noble goal of going out for Olympic wrestling and representing the United Kingdom.
Vernon was proud of his son; Dudley's focus and accomplishments came a double victory. First it showed Vernon's manliness indirectly through the virtue of his son. Second, he'd decisively won the eternal argument with his wife on proper child rearing. He'd told Petunia for years coddling the boy would ruin him. With Harry's absence, Vernon heaped chores and responsibilities on his son, and Dudley had met the challenge.
One attitude from Dudley hadn't changed – his cousin still could care less about Harry Potter. Instead of focusing on his dissipation and hedonism, Dudley now focused on his self-improvement. The first thing Dudley had done with Harry's surprise visit was giving up bed. His coach's idea of sleeping on a hard wooden floor for improving his back musculature was something Petunia didn't want her Duddikins doing. With an unexpected guest, his overprotective mother no longer had a reason for preventing Dudley from toughening himself by sleeping on the wooden floor underneath the cupboard.
Harry insisted on taking the Dursleys out for an expensive Christmas dinner at the finest restaurant in Little Winging. After a token protest, Vernon allowed the outing with a smile.
"Are those awful freaks treating you alright, dear?" Petunia gently buttered a pre-dinner roll inside Rory's Roaring Riverside Chateau. The envious looks from the people waiting for seats were a balm for her petty soul. The Dursleys had been immediately whisked into a private dining area.
"It's no longer as bad Aunt Petunia," said Harry. "They recognized the work exhausted me, so they gave me a booster talisman."
"Boy! Have you forgotten how they took you away from us?" Vernon's face radiated disappointment. This cut Harry sharply, as he'd worked hard at earning his Uncle's approval.
Jarred, Harry searched his memory, now better ordered by rudimentary Legillimancy. His happy expression of Christmas cheer faded into shock. "Uncle Vernon, my memory is gone. I remember Aunt Petunia looking upset at an owl, then my next memory is casting the light spell in class, three weeks later."
Petunia handed Dudley the buttered roll, and he inhaled it. "Vernon and I tried to protect you Harry. Those freaks kidnapped you from us; we tried stopping them, but the giant man they sent was too strong. He tossed us aside like we were nothing and enchanted poor Dudley with a disfigurement."
"Yeah, if I ever find that pink-umbrella'd giant freak again, I'll thrash him." The Dude cracked his knuckles. "The surgery to fix me was embarrassing and painful."
"I don't know if they have sucked you into their cult, but I think it's time we told you the truth about your parents, Harry." Vernon looked really old, the Christmas spirit vanishing from his face.
"Your mum and didn't die in a car accident; my sister Lily was touched." Petunia's voice sounded far away from the concerns of mortal men. "Our family was overjoyed at having a magical daughter, and she met your Dad at the same freakish school you attend now. I too, once thought magic was a gift. Then I realized giving power into the hands of flawed human beings doesn't make them noble angels, it makes them into power mad freaks!"
Petunia started crying, and Vernon gently took her hand. Dudley look shocked, then resigned. Ever since his cousin was kidnapped, he'd felt the shadow descend over his mother's heart.
"As wonderful as the power inside you might be Harry, it isn't a toy. Your parents were killed by the grandest of all freaks, one driven by darkness and bloodlust. Your precious society didn't label him as a murderer or terrorist, instead they called him a Dark Lord. As if slaughter lead somehow into nobility." Forgetting or not caring this was a classy restaurant, Vernon spat on the floor.
Petunia pulled her composure together, and continued.
"I wouldn't even be speaking of this if not for the nationwide manhunt. The serial killer Sirius Black isn't what the media portray him as. That man is the wizard behind the murder of your parents, Harry. He was the man who corrupted your mother into becoming a freak, then betrayed her." Petunia shuddered, motioned for her husband to finish. James and Sirius had long ago introduced her to the darker side of wizarding society. She never told her sister about being subjected to their sinister pain games of 'muggle baiting'.
"We took you in only when the tests showed you hadn't a drop of strange power inside your body. Apparently the freaks have ways of corrupting normal people into their own. Don't give in to them, boy! Fight them with your soul and mind; it's what your parents would have wanted." Vernon gave a long, quiet sigh. He'd said his peace.
"But Amanda. . . " Harry hadn't even finished his thought when Dudley's huge hand smacked the back of his head, shutting him up.
"Don't you talk about my first crush like that, Harry Potter. She's not a true freak. You were too young two years ago, but Amanda had a long talk with Mum and Dad about the freaks that stole you. They had it in for her too. Whatever else you might think, you can trust that woman. Now enough about these bad memories; it's Christmas! Let's eat." Dudley grabbed a menu from the waiter as he approached the table.
Subdued, Harry took his time ordering. The Christmas cheer returned over the main course, but Harry stayed awake that night, staring at the ceiling in Dudley's room. Unconsciously, he clutched the Heartstring Talisman hanging around this throat.
Kumori was Amanda's designated contact. She'd warned him about accepting the artifact's power. Had she been right? Were the wizards in England really power mad freaks intent on corrupting him? According to the history textbooks, Harry Potter, the Squib-Who-Lived, shouldn't even be practicing magic. Voldemort's killing curse supposedly ended his ability, yet now he was a typical apprentice wizard.
That night, Harry Potter made an enemy. His unknown adversary was responsible for stealing away his memories, for manipulating Harry and his relatives. While revenge didn't appeal, Harry promised himself he'd right the situation.
He'd bring his enemy to justice.