The next morning at breakfast, Hedwig returned to Harry with a small scroll tied to her leg. He untied it as Hedwig stole Blaise's bacon, then unrolled the parchment.
Dear Harry,
You are quite right, business has died down since the semester started. Fall is usually when I take my ingredient-collecting trips, but I have decided to stay in England this year. The fact that you are a Parselmouth is quite interesting. I have no real information myself, but I have an… acquaintance, shall we say, from South America who is, in fact, a Parselmouth. I will contact him on your behalf and see if there is anything he believes you should know.
I have continued to make progress on that ritual, though as I informed you this summer, you will need even more fine control over your magic before we can utilize it. I would suggest that you continue to practice your unique abilities in private to increase your control, and perhaps you will be able to better overcome your magical limitations as well. I'm sure that classes like Defense Against the Dark Arts will prove somewhat troublesome, since practically all of those spells act at a range. Shields, though, could be doable in your current state.
I hope your classes continue to go well, and please, keep in touch.
Garrick Ollivander
P.S.: How many times have I told you to call me Garrick? Mr. Ollivander was my dad.
Harry smiled, and rolled the letter back up, slipping it into his bag. Hedwig was dancing around Blaise and Tracey's plates, trying to steal more of their bacon.
"Who was that from?" Daphne asked from Harry's side.
"Mr. Ollivander," Harry answered. "He helped me out with my… issues this summer and made me promise to keep in touch with him."
Daphne nodded as Blaise finally managed to fend off Hedwig, who then returned to Harry's shoulder, giving him a cuff to the back of his head as if to chastise him for not helping her crusade. Harry just smiled and lifted a piece of toast to her beak.
"You know, Hedwig is scary smart. I mean, I've never seen a post owl behave like that before. They usually just deliver their letters and leave," Tracey commented.
"Well she's not just an owl, she's my friend. I wouldn't want her to just sit in the owlery when she's not delivering letters, that would be mind-numbing."
"Think you could ask her to not steal my breakfast every day?" Blaise grumbled.
"Oh, grow up, Blaise. There's a full plate of bacon like three feet away from you," Daphne responded with a smirk.
"Yeah, but it's my bacon. She can get her own."
Hedwig barked sharply at Blaise, before taking off and flying through the opening near the roof.
"I think she said yours tastes better," replied Harry with a smirk.
The door to the Transfiguration classroom opened, and Harry and his friends walked in. They had finished lunch early and decided to show up to their first double-Transfiguration ahead of schedule so they could practice their spellwork.
"Harry, could you help me with this again? I'm just having a problem getting it to not look like wood. It has the right shape and color, but it just looks like silver wood," Blaise asked.
"Well, I'd guess the problem is the way you're thinking about it. Are you imagining a metal needle?" Harry answered.
"Well, no. I mean, this spell doesn't even change it into metal."
"That's true, but if you're still imagining it to be wood, it'll end up looking like wood. Just imagine you're really changing it to metal, and that should do the trick." Sure enough, on his next attempt, Blaise managed a nearly perfect needle.
"How are you this good at Transfiguration already, Harry? I mean, it's one thing to cast it as quickly as you did, but figuring out what other people are doing wrong that easily?" Tracey inquired.
"I'm not really sure, to be honest. It just seems like almost second nature to me. Sort of how Potions feels for you, Blaise," Harry answered.
Blaise nodded. "I guess that's fair. Potions just makes sense to me, the rest of our classes are alright but they're not as easy." Their discussion was interrupted as the rest of the first year Slytherins began flooding in.
"Surprise, surprise, the teacher's pets are already here," Nott commented as he slid into his back-row seat. "What, didn't get enough attention today? Need to get a few extra points to make yourselves feel better?"
"That is quite enough, Mr. Nott. Five points from Slytherin," McGonagall announced as she entered the classroom. "Today, we will begin our next transfiguration…"
The entirety of the Slytherin cohort made their way down to the Quidditch pitch for their flying lesson. It was to be led by Madam Hooch, and was a joint class between the Slytherins and Gryffindors. Two rows of brooms were laid out on the pitch, with the Gryffindors already lining one side. The green-clad students filed in on the other side, and Madam Hooch began her lesson.
"Stick your wand hand over your broom and say up!" Hooch instructed.
The entire class did so, with varied results. Tracey's and Blaise's brooms jumped up immediately, as did Draco's and Ron Weasley's. Daphne's rolled around half-heartedly on the ground, while Harry's didn't even twitch. After a few moments of allowing everyone to try several times, she told the rest of the class to pick up their brooms.
"Alright, everybody grip how I just demonstrated—good—now kick off firmly and hold the brooms steady and level," Hooch commanded.
Most of the class shot into the sky, some under control, some not. Harry, however remained with his feet firmly planted on the grass. Daphne descended slightly to hover next to him.
"You alright, Harry?" she called out.
"Yeah, fine, I just don't think flying is my thing," he smiled back. In truth, flying sounded amazing, but the broom he was holding might as well be a dead twig plucked from a tree. It seemed that his condition didn't allow him to use brooms, for whatever reason. He turned as Madam Hooch began approaching him, keeping her hawk-like eyes on the students drifting around the pitch.
"Is there a problem, Mr. Potter?" she asked.
"No, ma'am, I just don't think that I'm really interested in flying," Harry responded with a sad smile. Hooch, surprising Harry, responded in kind.
"That is a shame, Mr. Potter. Your father was an incredible Chaser, and I was hoping that you might follow in his footsteps. But, as you say, flying isn't for everyone," she said, then turned and lifted off into the air. Harry walked to the benches nearby and watched. The rest of the class was making slow laps around the pitch with the rest of the class under Madam Hooch's direction, but after a single lap, Daphne landed on the grass and walked towards him.
"Everything okay, Daphne?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, I've just never been a huge fan of Quidditch. My dad was really disappointed when I told him," Daphne told him with a smile. "Plus, I'm not a huge fan of heights," she admitted quietly, hiding her face behind a curtain of her hair.
As the class progressed, Hooch allowed the students increasing amounts of autonomy, eventually allowing the students to practice with several Quaffles. Harry and Daphne simply watched, laughing as Tracey repeatedly stole a Quaffle from Blaise's arms.
Harry cocked his head as he heard a faint whistling sound, then, in a blur, stood and reached across Daphne's lap. With a dull thud, a Quaffle landed solidly in Harry's palm, intercepted on its path towards Daphne's head. Daphne let out a quiet squeak as she realized how close a call it had been, then directed a glare upwards to where Ron Weasley hovered, smirking at them.
"Sorry!" he called down to them, without an ounce of sincerity as he flew off down the pitch. Harry felt a pulse of anger at the redhead, who had nearly injured one of his first friends. With a grunt, Harry heaved the Quaffle towards his retreating figure, rewarded with a cry of surprise as it landed square between his shoulders. The hit wasn't enough to unseat him but would surely leave a bruise as a reminder.
"Sorry!" Harry yelled, "I was just trying to get it back to you!"
Daphne looked at him with no small amount of shock. "Harry, how on earth did you manage to throw it that far? And that accurately? You could probably beat out most of the Chasers at Hogwarts already!"
Harry just shrugged. "Lucky for them, I'm not trying to."
As the days turned into weeks, Harry and his friends continued to excel in their classes. Harry was easily the best in Transfiguration, while Blaise led the pack in Potions, though Tracey and Daphne were never far behind. Harry, despite copious amounts of practice, had yet to achieve a single offensive spell in Defense, much to his chagrin and the delight of some of his classmates. September turned to October, bringing with it several large storms that forced the students of Hogwarts to remain inside most of the time. On yet another rainy Tuesday afternoon, Quirrell stood at the front of the class for another lecture.
"Alright, s-settle down, children. It's t-t-time we moved on from jinxes to another t-type of magic. This is v-very dangerous stuff, so any misuse of these sp-spells will result in immediate d-d-detention with Mr. Filch. T-today, we will b-begin working with basic elemental sp-spells. Can anyone t-tell me one?"
Theodore Nott raised his hand with a grin on his face. "My father taught me the fire spell, Incendio," he stated proudly.
"W-would you mind demonstrating for us, Mr. Nott?" Quirrell asked. Nott stood with a smirk on his face and went to the front of the classroom. "N-now, everyone observe. Protego!" A pale blue light shot out of Quirrell's wand, first straight out, then curving out in an elliptical shape in front of Quirrell. "Th-this is the m-m-most basic shield spell, Protego. It is our f-first example of a continuously draining spell, as I m-must keep c-c-concentrating on it as well as c-continuing to supply it with my m-m-magic. Now, Mr. Nott, p-please cast your spell t-towards my shield."
Nott drew his wand back towards his side, then thrust it out directly towards Quirrell, while shouting "Incendio!" A burst of flames shot from his wand in a cone, expanding to about two feet across by the time it reached Quirrell's shield, where it continued to dissipate before vanishing completely. Quirrell nodded Nott back towards his seat as he ceased casting his shield.
"N-now, I would like you to p-pair off, and practice these spells. Do not, under any c-circumstances, cast any spells t-towards each other, or you w-will immediately have d-detention for a week. The other b-basic elemental sp-spells are Glacius, Fulgus, Ventus, and Aguamenti, for ice, l-lightning, w-wind, and water re-respectively. Their w-wand motions are all the same, and they are on the b-b-board. C-cast only towards the t-targets I've set up on the walls."
Daphne and Harry paired off, as did Blaise and Tracey. They went to the two targets that were the farthest from Nott's cronies, nearest the doors to the classroom. Daphne went first.
"Glacius!" she shouted, jabbing her wand towards the dummy. An icicle about six inches long launched from her wand, shattering against the wall next to her intended target. She frowned. "It's a lot harder to aim than I expected," she explained as Harry took his place in front of the target.
Harry pulled his wand back, picturing a burst of wind pushing his target over. With a thrust, he cried "Ventus!" Instantly, his wand hand was forced backwards as a wall of air launched towards the practice dummy, slamming it against the wall with impressive force. Daphne stared at the target, while several of the nearby groups turned to see what the noise had come from.
"Wow, Harry, that was… something," Blaise said, somewhat dumbfounded. The other students turned back to their own targets when nothing else happened. "When I tried that one, I just got a stiff breeze."
Harry, meanwhile, was just staring at his wand. He had not been intending for that amount of force, but it had felt almost as if his wand had decided to increase the power of his spell. Putting it in the back of his mind, he gestured for Daphne to try again. She stepped up, raised her wand, and cast "Fulgus!" A thin line of electricity shot towards the dummy, releasing a crack when it finally connected, and pushed the target into the wall once more. "Wow, that one was fun!" she exclaimed. "Harry, you should definitely try that one."
"Sounds good to me," he said with a smile as he righted the target once more. He walked back to the middle of the classroom, then turned and faced his target. He drew his arm back, pictured a bolt of lightning in his mind, and pushed forwards. "Fulgus!" The instant the word left his lips, a piercing shriek filled his ears, as his vision faded to black.
Author's Note: This chapter has been sitting on my computer mostly finished for about a month now. Sorry for the delay, but life gets in the way sometimes. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!