The new term at Hogwarts brought with it a whole world of promise, for it was the first time in quite a while that it didn't start off with some ridiculous and silly things happening to drive everyone crazy. There was no stupid book signing with Lockhart, no escaped prison convicts to terrify anyone; it was just shaping up to be a perfectly normal year at the school. Good old Remus Lupin was even returning to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, which might have meant more to Harry if he had any real interest in the course. He was satisfied that Lupin was probably not going to turn out to be an insane man in disguise. If that scheme happened twice in a row... Harry couldn't imagine how disappointed he would feel if someone got away with that.
With good things came bad things, as usual, as the fifth year at Hogwarts was OWL year. The funkily named tests determined if each student was qualified to continue taking their current courses into the 'NEWT' level (Harry still didn't know what that actually meant). Of course, the Arithmancy and Transfiguration tests were supposedly the ones you really had to fear. It would just be out of the question for the hardest tests to be for Care of Magical Creatures or Muggle Studies.
There was a silver lining to all the studying and work the tests demanded, however. Once Harry was done with the term, he could finally stop taking most of his classes, and dedicate his time exclusively to the courses that would be required for whatever profession he chose. Harry was heavily leaning towards a job involving potions, since he found making them to be quite easy and relaxing. He'd have to pass up on being a Healer or an Auror, since both jobs would be far too stressful for him to perform adequately, but working at a store somewhere in Diagon Alley seemed like a pleasant way to support himself. He'd have to look into what opportunities were there at some point.
So it was with those thoughts in mind that Harry strode off to the gleaming red Hogwarts Express for another year of magical debauchery. The ride there was smooth and silent, and the ceremonies once the students arrived were quick and uneventful, which was just how Harry liked them. Everything seemed normal for a change; what a lovely concept!
Harry's good mood was quickly tempered when he learned just what some of his classes expected him to do for the year. It started with Arithmancy, where Professor Vector wanted them to spend the whole year working on a spell modification (this being the dreaded 5th year project the older students occasionally whispered about).
"Now that we've spent the last two years practicing the theory behind it, it's time to begin the practical applications of spell creation," Vector had said on the very first day of class. "Each of you will be expected to modify an existing spell to have it produce discernibly different effects. You must also be able to provide and explain all the mathematical reasoning for why your spell works the way it does. I will give extra points for any modified spells that also have a new and practical use added to them, although I do not expect most of you to accomplish such a task. You may work in groups of two, and I recommend that you do so if you want to finish the project in a timely manner."
Harry, of course, elected to work entirely by himself. The extra work wasn't going to be fun, but it sure beat having to talk to one of his classmates.
As for what spell to modify, Harry figured a good place to start would be with a water summoning charm, Aguamenti. It was good for its intended purpose of summoning water, but wizards often used it as their first choice for fighting fires as well. A wizard trying to put out a gas or chemical fire was a complete disaster waiting to happen. Thus, replacing the water summoned by the charm with the kind of foams used in fire extinguishers would make for a much safer and more reliable method of stopping fires for panicking wizards. He also thought that just replacing the materials created by the spell would be a lot easier then changing how it arced, or how it interacted with other magic spells.
(The more devious part of Harry's mind thought of a reversal of the problem. By replacing the regular fire in Incendio with napalm, one could create a much deadlier and damaging fire charm, as well.)
It seemed a simple enough task, but then Harry got a good look at the equations behind the spell...
M = w(∫∫l·dz + ∫∫dv)
AW = ∇xE
dt = (dM√2)(dx+5)
He felt he'd be lucky if he was able to make the water from the spell point in a slightly different direction by the end of the year. Suddenly, spell crafting didn't seem like much fun at all.
It wasn't just Vector who was upping the ante in regards to the year's coursework, too. McGonagall and Snape were always looking for excuses to throw more essay questions at them in addition to their constant barrage of regular assignments. Lupin was no slouch either, expecting them to know a growing number of defensive and offensive dueling spells that they would probably never use outside of the classroom. Even the Muggle Studies teacher was acting like her class wasn't a total joke. All in all, it left Harry with little time for talking with Eve (who was still convinced that something was bound to happen, sooner or later) or just reading for fun.
Still, despite how everything was quite normal, there was a part of Harry that felt the need to check behind his back every now and then, just to be safe. It was because of what had happened last year, of course. Sure, strange things had happened at Hogwarts before, but it was only then that he had actually been a direct target of a malicious plot, rather then just an ignored bystander. Unlikely as it was that something of the kind would happen again.. it left him feeling just a bit nervous.
Thankfully, Halloween, a day that usually was host to a number of unfortunate events at the school, passed without incident. It gave Harry a little more confidence that everything would turn out just fine, although he could not fully banish such fears from his mind.
In the meantime, fifth year students were forced to go to career counseling with their respective head of House. Flitwick took the time to offer Harry a very interesting opportunity.
"Now, Harry, I've noticed that you've been consistently scoring very high in your History of Magic classes," Flitwick began.
"So what does that mean, sir?" Harry asked.
"Well, Harry, I don't know if you've noticed, but a lot of our students have been expressing their distaste with dear Professor Binns for many years now. Dumbledore has been looking for someone to replace him for quite a while, but there are very few students who go on to study history at the NEWT level."
"So you want me to be your new history teacher?"
"If you'd just consider it, then we'd all appreciate it. I believe that the abysmal knowledge of magical history among many of our students, especially the ones from non magical families, is in no small part to having to learn from a ghost." Flitwick sighed. "I know you aren't the most energetic individual, but I'm still convinced you would do better than Binns."
"Won't Binns be disappointed, though, if he just gets fired? Then what's he going to do?" This question was driven more out of curiosity then anything else, since a ghost without a home was an unusual sight to wizards.
"Perhaps he would care, if he still had a heart left to feel with!" Flitwick laughed. "Really, I don't know what goes through his mind, or if there's even a mind in there at all. If worst comes to worst, we might have to shoo him away, but I think he'll be content to just stay within the castle grounds."
"Well, I'll think about it," Harry said. "Now, what opportunities are out there involving potions?"
Becoming a Hogwarts teacher was a very intriguing proposition. One on hand, it offered security, since it seemed like no one else was competing for the position. Not only that, but it came with a beautiful, yet free living space in the form of Hogwarts castle, complete with a meal plan. It was also based around a topic that Harry was quite interested in.
But on the other hand, teaching would mean talking to students. Lots and lots of students, given that History of Magic was mandatory up to the fifth year. Talking with people younger then him for a living seemed like an absolute chore, even if they wouldn't be responding to him a lot of the time. Talking, grading essays, talking with the other staff; the job could easily turn out to be a nightmare wrapped in the guise of a happy dream.
For the time being, Harry figured he would continue taking History of Magic in his sixth year, and see how things went from there.
Harry continued to advance through Slytherin's memoirs, when he wasn't busy reading wave equations that made him want to crack his skull open. What was quite intriguing was the relationship between Slytherin and Gryffindor, who were more often remembered as mortal enemies instead of the friends they once were.
Gryffindor injured himself dueling again. Normally I find his anxiousness to fight regrettable, but this time he has struck for a righteous cause. Murdoch, a mage from a village two score south, had felt the need to make a movement on Gryffindor's wife. If I had been in his place I would have drawn my wand like fire before a spilled lamp. But Gryffindor didn't use his wand, instead cleaving the man in two with his own sword. A marvelous creation, that weapon! A pity it was made by goblins, the filthy things. It is symbolic of the wizards triumph that Gryffindor took it from them and imparted his own enchantments on it, allowing him to take it into battle even if it were not on his person. A wand is a more powerful tool still, but a sudden slash from an unforeseen blade would catch even the most experienced sorcerer off guard.
It is well that I have my own basilisk growing contentedly beneath the school. Perhaps, with its venom, the sword could be made stronger, more deadly, more resilient. An unexpected gift, perhaps! I'm sure he will find it quite useful. But I will have to find a reason to have obtained such venom first.
I've also thought about the creation of a magic item of my own. I've often felt it important to know the feelings of the foe before trying to discern their thoughts with magic, but magically telling the feelings of a man covered by a helmet is now an impossible task. It would be possible to create an artifact to read those feelings from people using magic, but I have never seen it done before. So, let me be the first! I could make the item an innocent piece of jewelry, a locket perhaps, so my enemies will not know that I can hear their feelings, their fears...
That 'innocent piece of jewelry' would fit well into the myth of each Founder having their own special magical item. Gryffindor's sword, Hufflepuff's cup, Ravenclaw's diadem, and now Slytherin's locket. Such items, if they had existed, had almost certainly been lost to the ravages of time long ago... but Harry felt it was worth asking someone who had been alive then, just to be sure.
"Eve? Are you there?" Harry called out, wandering out onto the grounds.
The giant snake swung around a corner and met him face to face. "Of course I'm here! Where else would I be? I'm off duty! Probably."
"Uh, sure. Hey, listen, do you remember when you used to hang around with Slytherin?"
"Of course I do! Like it was several days before yesterday, but not too many days before that, because that would mean I didn't quite remember it clearly enough to be very-"
"Did Slytherin ever carry a locket, or some other kind of jewelry on his person?"
"A locket, you say?" Eve asked, trying very hard to make an inquisitive face. "What's a locket?"
Harry sighed. "Did Slytherin ever carry a little clasp thing around his neck that opened and closed, and was probably golden or silver colored?"
"Oh, that thing! He never let me play with it. But that doesn't matter now, because now I can play with giant balls of string instead!"
"You wouldn't happen to know where it ended up, then?"
"Nope! He took it with him when he left the school. What does it do, anyway?"
"It sells for a lot of money, I'd imagine. Not that it matters at this point."
"Aww, don't tell me you're just giving up!" Eve said. "Surely, we could find it if we just believed in ourselves."
"That's what all the bumbling artifact hunters tell themselves every day they spend digging through ancient junk piles. Optimism only gets you so far, after all." Harry yawned. "I'm going to bed, I think."
"That's a shame. You haven't even told me how you learned about this lockette!"
"Another day, maybe..."
Harry took his usual path from the grounds to Ravenclaw tower, which he had determined to be the quickest from experience. He hadn't gotten far before he found one corridor blocked by a bunch of people wearing strange metal masks. Was this some kind of prank? Harry wasn't in the mood for pranks, and probably never would be.
"Uh, hello? I'm trying to get through here-"
All of a sudden, the masked people raised their wands in unison.
"Stupefy!"