Disclaimer – I solemnly swear that JKR owns everything Harry Potter. Whether or not I am up to no good with her characters is for you to decide.

/ ( 0 v 0 ) \

Muggle-Raised Champion

Chapter 24 – In Two Minds

2:03am

Sunday, 26 February 1995

Harry's Quarters, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

.

With a grumble, Harry willed a small ball of light to appear above his head. Angling his watch, he made out the time and grumbled all the more. Two o'clock and he was still awake. And barely a quarter of an hour since the last time that he'd checked.

Deciding to give in, Harry rolled out of bed and padded across the room. The bare stone floor was exceedingly cold, even with socks on his feet. On his way past his trunk, he swiped the block of wood and carving tools that he'd left on top and carried them with him.

His mere entrance was enough to light the half dozen torches in the lounge room, adding their light to the dull red glow that was all that was left of the fire in his grate. He let himself fall into the lounge chair and slumped back.

He'd stayed up later than usual after his friends and Madam Bones had left, his brain whirling with what he'd learned. And then, when he'd finally hauled himself off to bed, it was only to spend the next few hours tossing and turning.

Harry knew that his mind was far too active to sleep. To be honest, he'd known it before he'd even gone to bed. What he needed was to calm his mind, to settle his thoughts and then, hopefully, he'd finally be able to sleep.

Sitting up a little straighter, he examined the piece of wood in his hand. It was a soft pear wood, a piece that Hagrid had found for him, just like his pipes. Already he'd made a start on it, the shape of the merman beginning to appear, at least within his mind where he could see what the wood would become.

Taking up his small knife, he began slicing tiny slithers of wood away. It seemed that his fingers had decided to carve a collection of magical creatures and beings. He already had a tiny carved dragon, a goblin and a unicorn in the special display case that he'd made to hold his carvings, and now there was going to be a merman to add to the collection.

As his fingers worked on carving out the merman from the pear wood, his mind delved backwards to the last time that he'd seen a merman: the lake during the Second Task. And that's where the origin of his sleeplessness stemmed from.

The Second Task. People had been put into an enchanted sleep and placed at the bottom of the lake, Daphne and Hermione among them. And it was all done by the Headmaster without even a 'by your leave' to their parents. One man had the power to do whatever he wanted to the students in his care. And it was all legal. There was nothing that could be done to prevent him doing something similar to others if he felt it was for their greater educational good. And as long as he could justify it, then someone like Madam Bones, the Head of the Magical Police, couldn't touch him.

Harry had to wonder exactly what else the man had done in the past that would be considered dubious to the non-magical world at the very least, let alone illegal.

Of course, he considered, the fact that his name had ended up in a magical Goblet, meaning that he was stuck in a Tournament that he had no interest in, not to mention the fact that he was woefully unprepared for, seemed to be just one such occurrence. And that really was becoming less of a mystery as time wore on.

Madam Bones had assured him that the experts had said that the Goblet would have only accepted his signature, no one else's. That meant that whoever had put his name into the Goblet had to have known where he was, which, as far as anyone knew, boiled down to three people: Hagrid, Professor McGonagall or Headmaster Dumbledore.

Hagrid had been ruled out due to the magic that would have been needed to be performed on the Goblet itself in order to get it to accept a fourth champion. Professor McGonagall, regardless of how strict she was, seemed too nice to do such a thing.

And as for Dumbledore, well, he was looking more and more likely, especially with his 'hero and Champion' garbage that he was spewing the other day. And now finding out that he could get away with just about anything as long as it was for the 'greater educational good' of the students …

Harry found his strokes becoming more and more vicious and promptly pulled his hands away before the merman's head was chopped off. After taking a dozen or so calming breaths, he carefully began carving once again.

With everything that he'd been told and experienced so far in the Tournament, Harry wasn't sure that he even wanted to be anywhere near the magical world. This was the place where bigotry ran riot; where it was considered normal to pit a fourteen year old against a full-grown nesting mother dragon; students were put at the bottom of a lake; an entire country was disappointed that said fourteen year old didn't risk life and limb swimming to the depths of a lake in February to rescue other students; and where school Headmasters could seemingly do whatever they wanted.

But against all of that was one thing. And it was a doozy: magic!

Magic. Being able to make things fly; create water from the end of his wand; where a simple spell could change the colour of anything; where dragons, unicorns, goblins, centaurs, giants and fairies were real; and where, by simply willing it into being, a ball of light could appear in his very hand.

Knowing what he did now, not to mention the tantalizing hints of what else there still was out there to learn, Harry knew that he couldn't give it up.

And he had friends here – Neville, Susan, Hermione and Daphne.

Daphne.

Now there was someone that he could spend all night thinking about and still realize how little they knew of each other. They came from two different worlds, cultures apart and yet, somehow, they'd managed to become friends, even with the rocky arguments that they'd already had. He was sure that there'd be more arguments, more misunderstandings, later. And yet, there was no way that he was willing to give up the opportunity to get to know her better.

The question Harry had to ask himself, though, was whether he could willingly submit himself to staying here at the castle with Daphne and his friends under the Headmastership of someone with the power of Dumbledore?

Learning magic was important but that didn't mean that he had to learn it here. He wasn't yet a Hogwarts' student.

Setting aside his knife and wood for a moment, Harry extended his hand back towards his bedroom and closed his eyes. Visualising what he wanted, he willed the five letters to come to him.

And come they did. Five envelopes soared through the door and across the room, straight to him to catch one after the other. No, there was no way that he could ever give up magic, nor learning more and more of it.

He'd read each of these letters countless times and each time, they'd given him a warm, fuzzy feeling. That the people who'd written these letters were each imploring him to come to their countries solely because of an ability that the magical people of Britain were frightened of.

Perhaps, he decided, the answer could be here?

Harry flipped through each envelope again, reciting to himself where each one originated: the Romanian Dragon Reserve; the Australasian Dragon Preserve; the Aztec Reserve for Dragons; the Draconian Sanctuary of Tanzania; and the Mongolian Dragon Park.

A sharp triple tap at the window spun Harry's head around. There, he found a brilliant white owl, her intense yellow eyes looking in at him.

"Hello, Hedwig," Harry said as he stood from the couch and began making his way across the room. "I'm guessing that you sensed that I was thinking of sending a letter?"

/ ( 0 v 0 ) \

7:35pm

Tuesday, 28 February 1995

Entrance Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

.

"Good evening, Mister Potter," the tiny, smiling Professor Flitwick said.

"Professor," Harry returned.

The fact that his Charms professor had asked to meet him in the Entrance Hall instead of in his classroom as per usual had Harry quite curious.

"For tonight's lesson, I felt that we needed a little more room," Professor Flitwick explained. "So, if you'll follow me, I'll take you out to our firing range."

Firing range! Harry thought, his eyes widening comically in surprise.

But then he thought about it.

In the muggle world, a firing range involved, well, firing weapons, usually guns. His eyes were drawn to his wrist where his wand was currently sitting in its holster. He supposed that when every witch or wizard carried their own weapon, so to speak, it made sense that they'd need to learn how to fire spells from it at targets. Not that he'd ever seen or heard of anyone doing so in a 'firing range' before.

Obediently, Harry followed the tiny Charms Master from the castle and down the wide, expansive lawn towards the Forbidden Forest. As it was still February, albeit the very end of the month, the world outside the castle was covered in the white snow from the fresh fall that afternoon. From the look of the low, heavy clouds, Harry guessed that there'd be another blanket of snow overnight.

On the very edge of the forest, Professor Flitwick stopped and looked expectantly at Harry. Harry, though, wasn't sure what he was supposed to be seeing.

"Your firing range," the Professor said, gesturing behind him.

"Professor?" Harry asked.

Professor Flitwick smiled, making the corners of his moustache twitch.

"This evening you'll be learning the incendio charm," he said.

And then it clicked.

"Incendio," Harry repeated. "As in, the fire charm?"

"Exactly. Thus, our firing range," Professor Flitwick stated.

Harry couldn't help himself but to laugh.

"Firing range," he managed around his chuckles. "for learning to control fire."

"Of course," a confused-looking Professor Flitwick replied. "Were you expecting something different?"

"Well, sort of," Harry chuckled, but waving it away. "The term 'firing range' has a different connotation in the non-magical world. Doesn't matter. So incendio?"

For a second, Harry was sure that his Professor was going to ask him about the other meaning of the term, but instead, he launched into his lesson.

"Incendio is a very useful little spell. It can be used from simply lighting a candle to lighting a fire in a fireplace and even setting a building on fire. The incantation and the wand movement is identical regardless of the use that you wish to put it to. The only difference is in the amount of power that you put behind the spell."

Harry nodded his understanding.

"Watch carefully as I demonstrate the wand movement," Professor Flitwick instructed.

Harry watched and then mimicked the simple flick that incorporated a small wrist movement in it.

"Wonderful, wonderful, you did that perfectly," Professor Flitwick exclaimed. "Now, observe the firing range. We will not only be learning the spell, but also how to control the power that you place behind your spell. And, because of your unique skillset, Mister Potter, you will also be performing this spell both with and without your wand."

Harry nodded as he took a couple of steps forward, closer to the 'firing range'.

The area looked ideal for learning to use and control the fire charm. At one end, planted in the snow, were a dozen large, thick candles. A little to one side of them were piles of dry, dead leaves. Next in line were clumps of tiny sticks. Then came piles of larger, thicker sticks. And at the very end, were logs the thickness of his thigh.

"Let's begin, Mister Potter," Professor Flitwick stated, motioning for him to take out his wand. "I want you to concentrate on just one of the candles. In your mind, picture the candle burning with a steady, small flame. That is the outcome that we are looking for here. Now, when you're ready, I want you to cast the spell. Accuracy is important, here. You are only to light the one candle that you are focussing on."

Harry nodded. His eyes were focussed on the candle closest to him. Taking a deep breath, he raised his wand.

"Incendio!" he intoned, flicking his wand in the correct pattern as he did so.

A burst of brilliant red-gold flames burst from Harry's wand, melting snow between he and the candle in a two foot wide path before striking the candle and melting it into a puddle of white wax all over the now exposed brown dirt.

"Perhaps a little too much power," Professor Flitwick squeaked.

"Yeah, I think I did overdo it slightly," Harry deadpanned.

"Well, no harm done. Pick a different candle and try again. But this time, put a little less power into it. Perhaps take a little longer to ensure that you have a picture in your mind of exactly the outcome that you want," Professor Flitwick stated.

Harry nodded, attempting to do just that. Finally, when he thought that he had it firm in his mind, he tried again.

"Incendio!"

This time, only the smallest spark travelled between his wand and the candle's wick. At first, Harry thought that he'd underpowered his spell too much, but apparently he was wrong, for, after a second or two, the wick sparked into life, setting the candle alight, exactly as he'd imagined.

"Wonderful! Wonderful!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed, clapping his hands and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Once more, please," he instructed.

And Harry did, taking his time to light a further four candles in a row.

When Professor Flitwick was satisfied, the tiny Charms Master waved his wand, extinguishing the lit candles.

"Now, let's try it with your wandless magic," he said. "Could you produce your wonderful light on the palm of your hand, please?"

Raising his palm, Harry willed a ball of light to appear.

Hesitantly, Professor Flitwick probed the yellow ball of light with his own hands, before nodding.

"As I thought," he said. "Your light is without heat. I want you to concentrate on its temperature. Feel the heat in your hand."

Harry frowned at his light. It'd never been hot before, or cold for that matter. But with Professor Flitwick's coaching he was gradually able to make the light warmer until he could feel it warming up not only his hand, but also his face.

"Very good," Professor Flitwick said. "This is what I want you to use to light the candles. Imagine your ball of heat appearing just above the wick of the candle and, once the candle is alight, extinguish your light, leaving just the flame on the candle."

Harry concentrated on his chosen candle, trying to picture exactly what Professor Flitwick wanted. His face screwed up in concentration as he tried to will a ball of heated light to appear exactly where he wanted it. His brow began to bead with sweat as he applied more and more effort.

Finally, after five minutes of nothing happening, Harry decided to change tacts.

Lifting his hand once more, he willed a ball of lighted heat to appear just above his palm. Then, with nearly no effort, he sent the ball flying through the air towards the candle until it was perfectly positioned. The ball only needed to hover for a fraction of a minute before the candle's wick burst into flames and he was able to extinguish the original ball.

"An unorthodox method, Mister Potter, but effective nonetheless," Professor Flitwick praised.

"Perhaps if we have some time at the end, you can practice that some more. For now, let's turn our attention to the next challenge: the pile of leaves."

/ ( 0 v 0 ) \

7:45pm

Friday, 3 March 1995

Chambers of the Board of Governors, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

.

"I call this session of the Hogwarts' Board of Governors to order," Lucius Malfoy said, eliciting silence around the large rectangular table, at which he, as Chair, sat at the head of.

"This emergency session was called for by Madam Longbottom," he continued. "I call on Madam Longbottom to outline the reason that we are all here tonight."

"Thank you, Chair Malfoy," Augusta said, inclining her head to him as she rose from her seat. "It has recently been brought to my attention that we may have been negligent in our responsibilities to the students of this illustrious school."

"How so?" Elias Featherwhistle asked, leaning forward, his grey bushy eyebrows nearly covering his eyes.

"We've always fulfilled our duties correctly and to the letter," Marius Stoon agreed.

Augusta held up a hand, stopping the flow of protests that she could see erupting. This body of people, each one representing families that went back generations, all of whom had attended Hogwarts, were, like herself, sticklers for details.

"While it is true that we have upheld every rule and bylaw and carefully consulted and discussed any amendments that have arisen," she continued, "we have also not taken into account those rules and bylaws that may have become outdated."

The swinging heads and mutters told Augusta that she had their attention and that that attention wasn't completely in her favour. None of them liked the idea of looking too closely at a system that had always worked just fine.

"The issue that was brought to my attention stemmed from the Second Task of the TriWizard Tournament," Augusta stated. "Part of that Task involved the Champions rescuing a 'hostage' held at the bottom of the Black Lake in the village of the merpeople. But when those hostages were chosen for the Champions, the Headmaster used the powers at his disposal to place those children at the bottom of the lake without consulting either the children themselves or their parents."

"What of it, there was no harm done?" Elias asked.

"Shouldn't Albus be here for this?" Elphias Doge asked, looking around the table.

Augusta frowned at the man. She had never been comfortable with his appointment to the Board. He had no family at Hogwarts and the seat that he held had traditionally always been held by the Potters. Until now, she'd never questioned his appointment, especially as it had come at the request of Dumbledore himself.

"I think that this issue bears discussing before we bring the Headmaster in," Lucius stated.

Augusta was nearly caught flatfooted. Never before had Lucius agreed with anything that she had either said or proposed.

"Placing those children at the bottom of the lake brought us perilously close to a major diplomatic incident – one of those students was the eight year old daughter of Jean-Claude Delacour, the Head of the French Auror Department and another was Cho Chang, the daughter of the Chinese diplomat to the Ministry of Magic," Augusta stated.

"Foreigners," Elias waved off. "And wasn't another a muggle-born? None are of any concern."

"What about the fact that the fourth was the Greengrass heiress?" Augusta spat back. "Cyrus Greengrass was so incensed that he not only took his complaint straight to Dumbledore but also to Amelia Bones!"

"What is it that you are wanting from the Board?" Lucius asked, having to raise his voice to cut off a number of the others around the table.

Augusta took a couple of slower breaths to regain her composure.

"The powers that the Hogwarts' charter allows the Headmaster means that his actions that included stunning students, placing them in a state of suspended animation and then placing them at the bottom of the Black Lake were wholly legal, regardless of how morally questionable they are," Augusta stated. "What I am asking the Board to do is to review the purview that the Headmaster of Hogwarts works under to determine whether or not we have allowed too much power to be placed in his hands."

Stunned silence filled the room for the next few minutes, regardless of the number of mouths opening and closing as their owners tried to think of something to say.

"What you're proposing is the work of months, if not years," Marius gasped.

"Yes. It is. But wouldn't you feel better knowing that your children, your grandchildren, your great-grandchildren felt safe here at Hogwarts. Wouldn't you feel better knowing that the Headmaster didn't have the power to do whatever in Merlin's name he wanted, provided that he could justify it as being for the student's 'greater educational good'?" Augusta countered.

Slowly, more and more nods appeared around the table.

"Let's put Madam Longbottom's proposal to the vote, then, shall we?" Lucius said. "All those in favour of examining the rules and bylaws that govern the power held by the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, raise your hands."

One by one hands were raised until, very reluctantly, the last, Elphias Doge, also raised his hand as well.

"The motion is passed," Lucius stated. "Madam Longbottom, I shall leave it to you to gather your committee and begin this work. We shall expect progress reports monthly. If there is no other business? Thank you all for coming."