A Different Start: American Harry Prequel

by DarkeStar

Harry's godmother gains custody of a young HP and escapes to America where he learns a new way of magic and carves a new path for himself. Powerful/Independent Harry, eventual slash, OCs, pre-Hogwarts. Reg. updates.

39. Chapter 39

Disclaimer: I own magical America and the theories, ideas, etc. that are not infringing on JKR's world.

Info: Warnings and story info found in previous chapters. Link to previous chapter review responses found in profile. Ygroup has detailed and past responses, house layouts, may have additional scenes. New scene division: (0)0(0)0(0)0(0)0(0)

Reviews: Pure Happiness

Betas: Super, massive, tons of love for Shadow and Styx. Without them, my chapters would be much sadder. And super hugs love for my muse/ sounding board Megan.

AN: I'm back! Sorry it took so damn long, but real life has a way of being real life. I must admit, I haven't been keeping up with messages or reviews, though I'll be checking them now. I've felt too bad about the super delay to poke at them. So if questions were asked, I'll try to get to them. So everyone knows, I've moved and I'm going to FSU now, so I have real life things once again sucking up my time in unpredictable ways. I will, however, try my damnedest to get the next chapter out by Thanksgiving.

AN2: Hathorne classes will soon be posted on my Ygroup. And! There's a delightful pic of Cam up on my Ygroup thanks to Caz251! You should go look!

If there's bizarre formatting or lacking of formatting or some other visual problem - its all ffnet's fault. Super.

Posted 07.26.10

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A Different Start: American Harry Prequel 39

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"How are you scheduled for three different classes being taught at the same time?"

"Wow, alternate universe, you're actually speaking to me in a halfway civil tone." Harry glanced up from The Basics of Ritual Magic just long enough to give Geoffrey a quick up and down. "And you're still Geoffrey. Well done."

Geoffrey's frown turned into a scowl.

Harry snorted and turned back to the diagram he'd been studying when Geoffrey returned to the dorm, hand dropping over the side of the couch into the depths of his backpack. "Oh, hey, toss me that notebook on the coffee table?" After a moment, Harry straightened up, a pencil in hand, glancing back to Geoffrey. Geoffrey didn't look like he'd even blinked. "It's right next to you," Harry said helpfully. "It's the only one on the table. Blue cover, the big purple dragon on the front, all glittery? No? Yeah…" Harry stretched across the coffee table to snag it, almost falling off of the loveseat, and then settled back and began flipping through it. "On reflection, I honestly have no idea why I actually thought that might work."

"I asked you a question."

Harry turned the notebook sideways to study one of the diagrams in his notes. "Did you really?" He tapped the pencil against his lips. "Like I asked you to do something for me? Funny; we don't seem to be hearing each other clearly."

Geoffrey sucked in a slow breath.

Harry checked his diagram against the diagram in the book and made a note. "Though, I suppose you win a few points for managing to only sound curt instead of thoroughly disdainful. All right." Harry shrugged a little. "When I took the placement tests over the summer, I passed most of the sections in those three classes, but there were specific areas that I didn't score high enough in to skip. My advisor checked the projected class schedule for each of the subjects and decided that there wasn't a significant amount of overlap in any of them, and since I'm really just filling in some potholes, my advisor okayed putting all three classes on my schedule."

"You what?"

"My pre-Hathorne tutoring covered a fair bit in Runes, Arithmancy, and Rituals, but not everything." Harry slid the pencil behind his ear to flip through the book, eyes flicking to Geoffrey's stony expression several times before he found the correct page, biting back a smile at Geoffrey's unblinking stare. "So, I have a good handle on the basics, and then a bunch of topic specific things relating to whatever practical exercises I was doing. Basically it means there's just enough material left out that it makes my ride on the information superhighway bumpy, and as we all know, the leading cause of bumpy highways is potholes. My magical theory is just full of potholes."

"Potholes."

"Yep. Potholes." Harry snagged his calculator from the coffee table.

"Magic cannot have potholes."

"Says you. Magic says differently. Magic also says you look adorable when you scowl." Harry looked up with a grin at Geoffrey's low, displeased noise, and grinned even more when Geoffrey glared at him. The glare intensified for a moment, and then transferred to the half open curtains behind the loveseat.

"Is there a problem?" Harry asked amiably.

Geoffrey turned smartly and stalked to his side of the room. Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing, bending close to his calculations and filling in blanks on his diagram. Geoffrey filled the pencil-scratching quiet with the sound of drawers opening and closing slightly louder than necessary, punctuated by the occasional huff. Every time a drawer opened and then closed, Harry penciled a tick mark on the edge of his notes.

"Did you lose something?" Harry asked after several minutes, turning to a new diagram in the book.

"No."

"I'm only moved to ask because you have nine drawers on your dresser and you've opened them…" Harry added up the tick marks, "nineteen times. That's either a search pattern or a 'make noise and annoy' mission."

"No."

Harry erased a note to buy pickles and wrote a number in its place. "I take it you want my attention for some reason, then?"

Geoffrey remained silent, letting his shuffling and shutting noises speak for him.

"Hey, believe me, this is a new experience for me, too." Harry waited a few moments for a response, punching in a few more numbers on his calculator and writing down another note. "Hello? Boots? Earth to Boots?" He peered over his shoulder. "Scowls McFangy? Geoffers? Prince of Gloom? Stealer of Sunshine? Destroyer of Smiles? Grumpy-"

Geoffrey turned just enough to fix him with a glare. "No." He turned back to peering into the open drawer.

"You sure? Really? Because you were totally almost civil to me in a thoroughly curt and Geoffrey manner when you came in, and seeing as how we've been roommates for two weeks and this is the first time you've spoken to me without it being a command or an insult, or a commanding insult, come to think of it-"

"No."

"-I just thought you maybe wanted to ask for my firstborn or something, and then I went and ruined your sweet talking lead up where you showed you were a standup guy by me being, you know, me, and-"

"No."

"-now you're minus one firstborn or some of my cookies or something and the fate of the world hangs in the balance and-"

"No."

"-and it's all my fault."

"Yes."

Harry swallowed back a giggle with effort as he stared blankly at his homework, reaching up to stroke the coiled form of Serish under his jacket. She shifted along the back of the couch, stretching out as she hissed wordless contentment. The shuffling and drawers opening and closing started again. Harry listened for a moment, biting back a smile, then pulled his hand away from Serish to continue his homework. She mumbled a protest.

After several minutes the shuffling stopped and Harry could feel Geoffrey staring at him unwaveringly and with great intent. Harry ignored it, biting the inside of his cheek to keep a straight face as he finished the calculation he was working on and moved to the next.

A handful of calculations later, Harry flipped to the index to locate something. "You know…" He ran his finger down the list of entries, then began flipping back through the pages. "If you continue to stare at me like that, I'm going to feel obligated to give you something to stare at."

"Your class started fifteen minutes ago."

"And if you'd said that when you started staring at me, it would have only started about eight minutes ago." Harry glanced at the clock. "And you're right, it did. But I decided at breakfast to skip Medimagic today because we're covering the healing of basic abrasions and I can do that while half asleep. And have." Harry looked around at Geoffrey's impassive face, smiling brightly. "Aww, were you worried about me missing class? Or were you just trying to get rid of me so you can drop the prince of darkness act, put on some groovy music, and let out the dancing queen you keep hidden deep inside your soul?"

Geoffrey's expression flickered with confusion before darkening. His mouth worked around half words, but no sound came out.

"I'm on to you, magic pants."

"Insane." Geoffrey silently collected his books with vampiric speed and abrupt, precise movements, then he pulled on his cloak with a flourish and stalked out, pausing only long enough to give Harry a cold look as he muttered to himself in French.

"See ya later, boots," Harry called out with a grin. The door shut quite firmly.

'I want to bite him.' Serish slithered out from under his jacket.

Harry snorted. 'I know how you feel, but don't.'

'He smells un-right and hisses un-words.' Serish slithered down the loveseat to drape over Harry's shoulders, winding from his shoulders to his arm and around his hand. Her tongue tickled over Harry's skin for a moment before she reared up to look at him. 'I should bite him.'

'No biting,' Harry told her firmly, putting down his pencil to stroke her.

She shifted in delight. 'Not even a little?'

'Not even a little. Others would blame me and you would return to your other territory and not be allowed to stay with me.'

'Then I won't bite him. He would not taste pleasant, anyway.'

Harry laughed as he considered that. 'Too sour, perhaps. Or maybe not.'

She settled her head on his hand with an agitated hiss.

'I need to learn his language,' Harry mused, idly stroking her.

Serish made a questioning noise.

Harry considered how best to explain that humans spoke different languages even though they were the same creatures, and that Geoffrey's language of choice for muttering, grumbling, and smart remarks happened to be French. 'We speak differently. People who live in other territories have different words. I don't know the language he growls at me in.'

Her tongue tickled over his knuckles again, her slightly flicking tail the only indication she was trying to understand the concept. At last she looked up at him. 'You are strange creatures.'

'That we are,' Harry agreed with a chuckle, glancing at the clock again. 'I have to go to the room with all of the paper.'

Serish hissed a wordless grumble. 'You're always looking at things that rustle and crinkle.'

'Because I'm learning.' Harry gently unwound her from his arm and shoulders and resettled her along the back of the loveseat. 'You're nearly three feet. If you get much bigger, you won't be able to fit up there.'

'Then you should get a bigger sunning spot.' She slithered under his jacket again. 'You may go.'

Harry laughed and began to gather up his books, pausing briefly to read a few sentences to stop thinking in snake. "Nice to know you love me so much."

Serish hissed something vague and sleepy about human words barely making sense and he ought to hiss like a civilized creature.

Harry shook his head fondly as he got up and made his way around his bookshelves to set the books and homework on his desk. The mail box beside his desk was practically overflowing with the mail one of the school elves had delivered just that morning, and Harry pulled out the bundle curiously, flipping through it. The bulk of his mail was a bulging manila envelope from his press agent's office, and he tossed it in the box under the desk to look at later along with about a dozen other letters; the rest he set on top of his paper tray. His library bag was sitting on his smaller filing cabinet and he paused to look at the tag, checking to make sure the scrolling list of books included everything he needed to return, before gathering it up and returning to the main part of the room to pack it into his backpack.

'Bring back a mouse,' Serish commanded as he bid her goodbye, heading for the door.

'A mouse?' Harry turned to study her twitching tail, the only part of her that wasn't coiled up under his jacket. 'You ate four days ago. You're just being greedy.'

'I want a mouse.'

'Maybe this weekend.' Harry waited for a response, then shrugged at her silence. 'Don't get in trouble while I'm gone,' Harry cautioned. 'And do not crawl into Geoffrey's bed and move all of his blankets around! If I'm going to be blamed for sprawling all over his bed, I'm actually going to do it.'

'I am not aware of this happening as you say it did.'

'Lying is a terrible human habit. I thought snakes were better than that, hm?'

Her tail disappeared under the jacket.

'That's what I thought.' Harry resettled his bag over his shoulder and continued from the room. He paused in the hallway, waiting for the door handle to reabsorb into the door before moving on, nodding to a classmate entering her room further down the hall. In the stairwell, he waved to someone he'd met twice joining a group for lunch and nodded a hello to someone he had a good nodding-hello relationship with as he wound his way through the first floor lounge.

"Jamie!" A boy he knew from Transfiguration waved from a set of chairs near the door. "Got a minute?"

"Not even a second," Harry called back, aiming for the door but slowing slightly. "Is it important?"

"Nah. I'll see you later."

"Sounds good." Harry braced himself and pushed through the door leading to the dormitory courtyard, immediately sidling along the wall, ignoring the tickling, spidery, prickling against his skin feeling of the dorm magic identifying him as he left. He aimed for a gap in the flowering bushes that enclosed the table and bench filled leisure area, just managing to slide through with his backpack intact.

As he followed a foot-worn path through the denser garden, branches and vines strained towards him with every step, dropping away lifelessly just shy of touching him as the magic of his school ID calmed the garden's defenses. Despite being late, Harry slowed and reached up with a grin; the vines curled around his fingers and down his wrist before the defenses were deactivated and the vines slipped away between his fingers. He chuckled as he wriggled between two trees and broke free of the garden.

Harry crossed the expanse of grass to the main school building, backpack cradled by an arm as he rooted around inside with a preoccupied look to discourage chatterers. The magic protecting his notes made his fingertips tingle as he absently thumbed through his folders, and he spent the rest of his walk fighting to free his pocket watch when he spotted the chain wrapped up in one of his spiral notebooks. He stopped just outside of the building's side doors to free the last of the chain, then shoved the watch into his pocket and resettled his backpack on his shoulder before reaching out to grip the closest door, steeling himself.

"You always look like you're about to go into battle when you come into this building."

Harry glanced back at the amused voice, pulling open the door for his potions teacher. "I look like that when I enter any building," he said dryly. "But that's life. Mornin', Mr. Saund."

"Is it really?" Mr. Saund paused just inside the building and shook his sleeve back from his wrist to check his watch. "So it still is." He shook his sleeve back down. "Do you have class right now, Mr. Potter?"

"No, not at the moment." Harry gripped his bag and moved into the building, twitching as the tickling, prodding magic slid over him. It left him feeling like his skin wanted sneeze, then lingered, prickly, for several seconds before the identification magic began to fade. Harry gave himself a wriggle and shake and eased his grip on his backpack, muttering, "Never going to get used to that."

"Used to what?" Mr. Saund asked curiously.

"Feeling like my skin wants to sneeze all over." Harry fell in step with his teacher. "And then feeling like my skin wants to get all goose bumpy without actually goose bumping, and then I just want to hunker down and twitch for a while after I pass through any of the campus wards."

Mr. Saund shook his head. "I think I'd probably have to give into that urge if it were me, as undignified as huddling in front of doors and twitching would be."

"You wouldn't care too much about dignified if your hands and knees and toes all wanted to sneeze. You guys should seriously have a Magurist-friendly entrance or something."

"I do believe that would make it a completely magicless entrance, Mr. Potter, and that would make it rather difficult to keep track of the students."

"A minor inconvenience."

"Slightly more than minor, I should think." Mr. Saund unclipped his teacher ID from his shirt pocket and studied the back. Harry caught a glimpse of Mr. Saund's teaching schedule scrolling across the card before the information changed to a list of the day's appointments. "You say you don't have a class right now?"

"No, no class. I'm heading to the library to work on a project with someone, though."

"Might you have a little time to spare?"

"Maybe…" Harry dug the watch out of his pocket and gave it a warning look before flipping it open, thumbing the sound on.

"You're late," his watch muttered sullenly.

Mr. Saund let out a surprised snort of laughter. "Only you would have a moody pocket watch."

"That's totally not true. I bet there's another Magurist out there somewhere who has a moody pocket watch. It didn't come with a moody setting, I can promise you that. My family is sure to point that out every time my watch gets sniffy with me. What it came with is a silence setting so I can keep it with me during class, but the stupid thing acts like I've been ignoring it for years when I silence it."

"Ah, Magurism," Mr. Saund said with a chuckle. "Yes, magic does very strange things to Magurist students, in my experience. I've had more than one student with quirky problems. I had one very promising student, in fact, who was brilliant at potions in every way, but without fail, every potion that had the potential of going wrong in such a way as to dye her hair or skin another color without any other side effects, it would go wrong." He chuckled again. "There was one time we were working with a certain class of potions that had that ability for a stretch of several weeks, on and off, and I would dismiss her from that day's work before she could even sit down because I knew how it would end."

"Magic certainly does do that," Harry agreed fervently. "I've noticed lately that calling an object to me, either with intent or the actual formal summoning spell, has the potential to end with it smacking me in the face before I realize it's even moved. I really hope this one is just a temporary messing with my head."

"You might have to actually get up and get things," Mr. Saund teased.

"That inconvenience, while annoying, I can handle. It's the other ways I use it that are going to really get to me. Like in defense." Harry eyed the watch with a frown, tapping the sound button, before he shook his head. "Maybe the watch will cheer up if I leave it unsilenced for a while." He closed the front flip face and opened the other side. Instead of dark letters glaring at him, informing him of his tardiness, his watch displayed the actual time, but even the numbers somehow seemed vaguely put out. "Yeah, and you're no Game Boy," Harry muttered to the watch as he snapped it closed and stuffed it back into his pocket. He looked back to his teacher. "Well, I was supposed to meet Jo in the library about ten minutes ago, but we both have the time to spare if you need to talk to me right now."

"It would be appreciated."

"I'll send up a note." Harry paused to pull his backpack around, digging into a smaller pocket on the front for a little notebook and pen. It only took a moment to write out the note. He tucked the pen back in his bag and shifted his grip on the notebook to slide his fingers down the edge of the paper, cutting the sheet free cleanly; the notebook joined the pen and he resettled his bag. He considered trying to fold the paper wandlessly and remembered the confetti that happened the last time he tried. A small twist of his wrist dropped his wand into his waiting hand and he waved it over the paper, folding it into a bird that soared away from him like it had somewhere very important it needed to be.

"I imagine you're wearing an Auror-issue wrist holster," Mr. Saund remarked, drawing Harry's attention back to him. "I recognize that action. But I don't see any sign of it. Your sleeves aren't really loose enough to hide a metal ring, and I certainly don't see an outline of one."

Harry grinned. "There isn't a metal ring." A movement out of the corner of his eye distracted him and he glanced forward again, then scowled. His note had rocketed off in a hurry only to stop ten feet away in the foyer, bobbing around in lazy figure eights like it had nowhere to be for hours. "Jo's in the library," Harry told the note, making his way into the foyer. "Go. Library. Jo." He waved his wand again, sending the construction spiraling halfway up the staircase; the bird continued up several more steps under its own power before it met a bumblebee coming down. The two bobbed and circled each other several times before the bumblebee broke away from the dance, continuing down the stairs and down the hall they'd just walked though. The bird began to drift lazily in and out of the railing.

"I can't imagine you cast the spell incorrectly," Mr. Saund remarked mildly.

"That I did not," Harry agreed, tapping his wand against his leg. "Magic is being very magic today. Come on." Harry continued his way across the foyer to the other main hallway of the building. "It's only misbehaving because it has an audience. It'll get bored and do what it's supposed to do if we stop paying attention to it."

"And if it doesn't?" Mr. Saund asked.

"It will." Harry twirled his wand between his fingers, and then flipped the wand around so the handle was nestled in his palm. A little flex of his fingers and the wand slid under his sleeve and disappeared.

"So that is a USAS holster?"

"Oh, yeah." Harry stopped in the hallway with a grin. "It's the newest design," he explained, rolling up his sleeve to reveal something that looked like a short sleeve of nylon, almost indistinguishable from his skin until he plucked at it. "No metal ring, no heavy material, it's completely breathable, waterproof, and very comfortable. I almost never take it off. A very faint hint of 'oi, don't look at me' magic even allows me to wear short sleeves."

"What kind of magic?" Mr. Saund asked with a laugh.

"Notice-me-not. I like 'oi, don't look at me' better, though. That's the way the magic feels when I cast it."

Mr. Saund chuckled, shaking his head as he continued to study Harry's arm curiously. "I must say, I don't see how that could work. You simply can't put an anchor point so sophisticated as to summon a wand from magical non-space on any sort of cloth-like material. Cloth isn't strong enough physically or magically to sustain even a small pocket of non-space. That's why even the sleekest designs required a metal ring thick enough it wouldn't bend and wide enough the wand could slip through."

"You know your holsters," Harry said, a little impressed.

"A Potions Master is always trying to find ways to easily carry and conceal a great many potions and ingredients. Holster technology is similar to certain methods being used for that. I've been fortunate enough to have several students with USAS holsters for me to be intrigued by over the years."

"And behold, the newest version." Harry turned his arm over and flexed his wrist. A tear like a buttonhole opened up in the sleeve near the wrist and his wand slipped out and into his cupped hand like it had been summoned.

"You still can't anchor non-space magic to cloth."

"But you can anchor it to the bones of your wrist." Harry shifted his fingers up until the tip of his wand touched the underside of his wrist. The wand disappeared back into the material in the blink of an eye. He glanced back into the foyer. "Hopefully the stupid note actually made it to the library and isn't trying to impress someone with acrobatics," Harry remarked. "But at least it's no longer circling the staircase." He continued down the hall.

"But the bones of your wrist?" Mr. Saund shook his head slowly as he joined Harry. "Shouldn't the wand be dragged into your wrist if it's being pulled to your bones?"

Harry shrugged. "No clue. I asked how it worked, and the technician explained it, but I didn't understand most of it. I just smiled and nodded and thanked her for the new holster. And then took a pain potion."

"A pain potion?"

"The anchoring involves slicing open the wrist to the bone to apply the spell, without numbing the area, while you're awake."

Mr. Saund winced.

"Yep," Harry said cheerfully. "So, now that my note has gotten to the library, I hope- yeah, I know," Harry said as Mr. Saund chuckled. "But you know, aside from a few little wibbles and the occasional wobble, magic pretty much works for me in all areas. Apparently I'm kind of unique in that regard."

Mr. Saund shook his head with a smile. "You are unique in many regards, Mr. Potter." He turned them down a side hallway. "Not that it's my business, but you were expecting a Game Boy and someone gave you a watch instead?"

"Huh?"

"You told your watch that it wasn't a Game Boy. I'm sure your watch was crushed."

Harry giggled, then gave a bit of a cough. "Yeah, that. Kathy, a friend of my mom's and sort of an aunt to me, one of those kinds of friends, she's gotten more annoying and bossy now that I'm older. She came over while I was packing for Hathorne and had a problem with me bringing my Game Boy, and I'd totally asked Mom's permission, and I guess I didn't handle Kathy's presumption properly, and… this is totally more information than you need. Long story short, I wasn't allowed to bring the Game Boy after all, but I got a look from one of my people that usually leads to me getting something equivalent to what was taken away. And I got the watch."

"That's not exactly equivalent."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Don't get me wrong, it's a nice watch. I like the watch. It does watchly things. It's very watchly. It just wasn't what I was expecting."

"It never hurts to have a watch."

"I agree. But I already have a watch. More than one watch, actually. Some of them do some pretty spiffy stuff, too. Spiffy and groovy."

"But did you have a pocket watch?"

"No."

"So, now you do."

"But I don't need a pocket watch."

"Everyone needs a pocket watch," Mr. Saund countered, turning a corner.

"Why?"

"Because it's a pocket watch."

"That makes no sense."

"Then it ought to make perfect sense to you, shouldn't it, Mr. Potter?"

"Touché, Mr. Saund." Harry studied a collage of magical science in action as he passed it, then gave a bulletin board a cursory glance before looking back to his teacher. "Is there some sort of problem, sir? Why you want to see me, I mean."

"Not necessarily, no. What science are you taking now?"

"Level One science, so I'm in Life Science, and next Semester is Earth Science."

"So you'll be taking Chemistry in L3." Mr. Saund stroked his neatly trimmed beard.

"Unless something completely freakish happens, yeah. I'm me, after all."

"Yes, true." Mr. Saund nodded slowly, turning right as the hallway split and continuing several dozen steps to his office. His door was plain with only a simple nameplate, a paper with his office hours and contact information, and a mail slot about knee height, but the narrow, full length window beside the door was completely covered in moving photographs. As Mr. Saund used his ID to unlock the door, Harry leaned in to study them.

The photographs featured teenagers and adults, some wearing shirts with bubbling cauldrons on the front, 'PAW' written beneath the non-moving design, and others wearing shirts with Hathorne's logo – a fierce falcon perched atop a stack of books, framed by the words 'Always Strive For Excellence.' In every photograph someone was doing something potions related – preparing, brewing, teaching, or passing potions out to groups of people, many of them in foreign magical garb.

"Potions Around the World," Mr. Saund said when Harry glanced over at him curiously. "It's a program like Doctors Without Borders. We visit other countries and teach people in small magical settlements how to find native resources and brew some of the most commonly needed potions with what they have available." He leaned back against the doorframe with a proud smile. "My grandfather helped found the organization when he was a fairly young man, and Hathorne has been a part of it since the beginning. Every year, Hathorne's Potions Masters and Mistresses, and most of the students in the upper Levels, devote at least a few weeks of their summer to PAW activities."

"That's pretty awesome." Harry trailed his fingers down the glass. He recognized the Hathorne teachers, as well as some of the students, and he easily picked out the handful of Aurors, usually standing in the background, looking stern and alert, plus a couple of healers. There were other people throughout the photographs he recognized, but he couldn't place them. "Definitely awesome." He peered closely at a potion bubbling in one of the photographs. "Oh, this potion… that's a sedative designed for morphers, isn't it? That uses some pretty hard to get ingredients."

"Very good, Mr. Potter," Mr. Saund praised, looking a little impressed. "We don't cover that until L6. Very well done, spotting that in a photograph. One of the most recognizable characteristics of that potion is its almost sickly sweet smell until it's almost done brewing. How did you know that?"

"I've adopted a morpher." Harry laughed. "I mean, one of the Aurors I spend a lot of time with now is a morpher, so my private potion tutoring has begun to lean towards morpher-friendly potions."

"Very useful. As for the harder to obtain ingredients, yes, some of the potions we brew do require them, but many of the larger apothecaries, the direct suppliers, and others in the business of potions make generous donations of materials." Mr. Saund pushed away from the doorframe and moved into his office, motioning for Harry to follow. "Plus, of course, the generous money donations the group receives. Please close the door."

Harry stepped back and gently pushed the door closed, then wandered further into the office, drawn to the bookshelves. Nearly every wall in the room boasted a floor to ceiling bookshelf, and most of the shelf space was devoted to either books or potions and potion ingredients, but spread out in front of books and in gaps between sections were strange and curious things – a tasseled hat, several tribal masks, a box made of twigs, a voodoo doll.

"Last year, Growing Greenhouses very generously donated a dozen of their deluxe transportable greenhouses," Mr. Saund added.

Harry glanced over at him, his fingers trailing over a gnarled tree branch, crudely carved with symbols he didn't recognize. Magic stirred in the wood at his touch, powerful enough to tingle all the way up his arm. Harry jerked his hand away, rubbing his palm against his pants. "That's the company that makes those sturdy tents that house a fully functioning, self-sustaining, transportable greenhouse, right?" he asked distractedly, eyes narrowing as he studied the branch. The magic was wrapped around the wood like buzzing barbed wire.

"That's the company." Mr. Saund moved out from behind an old, scarred desk, holding a thick notebook, and crossed to an arrangement of padded wooden chairs in front of a small fireplace.

"Yeah, well, that's hardly surprising, the donation." Harry reached out towards an intricate metal flower, but well before he came close to touching it, he could feel the buzz of tightly packed magic. He pulled his hand back quickly, "Okay, done poking stuff…" he murmured, turning to join Mr. Saund in front of the fireplace, dropping his bag at his feet as he settled in the opposite chair. "Growing Greenhouses had that problem last year where a couple of people bought several of their greenhouses to grow marijuana. There was a big fuss about their company not being properly discriminating and all of that."

"An investigation revealed that the greenhouses had been purchased by a licensed Potions Master and Botanist," Mr. Saund remarked. "The company had been as discriminating as possible without completely invading the privacy of their clients after the purchase."

"Yeah, I know. But they still had some pretty bad press while it was going on. And it was during a slow news cycle, too. They were hot news. That's what really killed their image. It's not surprising that they'd be donating to good causes and working on pushing a positive image."

"That's a most astute observation."

"It happens when you're a public figure," Harry said with a shrug. He leaned forward a little. "So, what's going on? It sounds like it has something to do with chemistry."

"Yes. You'll be taking chemistry in two years. Do you see the problem?"

Harry considered that. "Not offhand."

"My class requires that you have some understanding of the basic theories of chemistry during your first semester, and to have had hands-on experience and knowledge of basic chemistry in the second semester as we begin to incorporate chemistry into the potions work we do. That's why, when following the traditional paths, students take chemistry the year before they move into Experimental and Constructive Potions. Since you haven't taken and aren't currently taking chemistry, you won't have the grounding and practical experience to continue to succeed in my class as we begin our second semester and continue onward."

"Oh." Harry frowned slightly. "Have I been falling behind? My placement tests almost put me into EC5 instead of four and I seem to be doing all right. Though I suppose it's still too early for me to know if I'm doing well…"

"No, you're doing quite well. That's not how this came to my attention. You see, I always review the records of my new students to understand their strengths and weaknesses, and that's when I noticed the only reason you didn't place into EC5 was the chemistry portion of the placement tests. I found that a little odd, so I spoke to your tutor, John Kigg, and he directed me to Shirley Bravier." He chuckled a little. "Apparently, she enjoyed teaching you potions so much that she didn't want to spend more time than necessary on chemistry and taught you precisely what you needed to know and no more."

"Somehow I don't find that very surprising," Harry said with a small snort.

"Nor did I," Mr. Saund agreed, smiling. "But with that explained, we have a couple of options."

"Options are tasty. What do we have?"

"I expect you have no desire to drop my class?"

"I'd really rather not."

"I thought you'd feel that way." Mr. Saund picked up the notebook and opened it on his lap, flipping through the pages with care. "Ordinarily, I would be reluctant to suggest this option to someone simply because patchwork knowledge does little favor to understanding the whole picture later, but my conversations with your tutors suggest that you're quite comfortable with learning bits and pieces of something and then filling in the gaps later and expanding on things already understood." He looked up. "But to be sure, before I suggest this, have you had any trouble keeping up with the Potions Journal or the Brewers Journal? Are you having any problems with anything that you haven't asked about?"

"No, not at all. I haven't had any problems. I do a lot of work on them after class while the information is still fresh, and I've never had any real problems finishing anything later. I don't think I'm having any more trouble than any other student."

Mr. Saund nodded slowly. "Yes, I've seen you working on them. You seem quite confident and comfortable as you work. I always take that as a good sign." He looked down again, turning a few more pages. "You have no problem participating in class, never shy away from asking questions, and so far, you've always had intelligent questions and comments when you speak up. You're keeping up with the practical work, you don't appear to have very many bad brewing habits, and you don't seem to have any problems working with older students. That was my biggest concern when you were placed in my class, that as an L1 you'd have some trouble interacting with the other students."

"Sometimes I do have a little trouble interacting with the other students, sir," Harry said a little dryly. "Sometimes they're a little too young."

Mr. Saund's eyebrows rose in surprise, then one dropped as he gave Harry a questioning look.

"I'm used to working with adults. Actually, frankly, I'm used to working with Potions Masters and Mistresses, sir. Or at the very least Potions makers."

"Ah." Mr. Saund chuckled. "Well, that's a first for me, a younger student who thinks the other students are a little too young."

"Not always, sir," Harry said with a grin. "It's only occasionally. It's only been a few weeks. I'm sure their brewing methods will tighten up before too long and some of the rougher edges will be smoothed down."

Mr. Saund laughed. "Very refreshing."

"That's what I do, sir. I refresh."

"That you do, Mr. Potter. And since I'd prefer you keep refreshing – just how busy are you outside of my class? I've seen your school schedule and taken a cursory glance at the rest of your placement tests, so I expect you'll only feel the need to attend two thirds or three fourths of your classes each week, but I'd never believe that you don't have just as full of a schedule outside of your school responsibilities."

Harry sat back and absently adjusted his tie. "Really, it's my school schedule that demands the most of my attention. Evenings are definitely out. I have Divination, of course, and I try my best to attend the Friday night special speaker presentations when we have them, and I prefer to keep my other nights free for being me. But during the week, yeah, I do skip classes here and there, and I can leave some early, or come a little late for some, and there's always taking a quick lunch or breakfast, depending on what you have in mind."

"You have two options. What I recommend, if you think you can handle it, is chemistry tutoring that focuses only on learning what you'll need for my class this year. The gaps in your knowledge won't actually hurt anything you do in potions this year. Next year, though, the gaps will give you trouble, so if you take this option you'll have to arrange for private chemistry tutoring over the summer."

"That sounds like it would work pretty well, but what's the other option?"

"The only other way to really make this work is to arrange for the full chemistry course tutoring this year so you're learning the subject as it's designed to be taken, on top of your potions class. Taking the full chemistry course is something I would only recommend, however, if I felt, or if you felt, that the haphazard way you'd be learning chemistry otherwise would be a hindrance later."

"Nah, I'm pretty good at being haphazard."

"That you are, Mr. Potter," Mr. Saund a little dryly, smiling as he flipped to the back of his notebook where a smaller notebook was secured. He pulled a pen from his pocket and began to write. "With that settled, what you'll do…" he freed the paper from the pad and began to fold it up, "is take this to Student Learning Resources when you visit the library. Someone there will set you up with Chemistry tutoring based on an outline that I'll prepare this weekend. You'll probably be contacted by SLR sometime at the beginning of next week to set up a tutoring schedule and match you with a tutor." He pulled his wand from a special pocket of his slacks and tapped the folded paper, magically sealing the note with an imprint of his initials.

"Awesome." Harry took the note and tucked it into his backpack.

"I'm pleased that you want to stay in my class, Mr. Potter." He closed the notebook and placed it back on the table, settling back in the chair. Harry coughed on a giggle as Mr. Saund crossed his legs and revealed a pair of Scooby Doo socks. Mr. Saund chuckled. "Yes, I'm a fan."

"Good taste," Harry approved. "One of my goals in life is to have someone say, 'and I would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for you meddling kids,' or some variation thereof," he added with a grin.

"Somehow, Mr. Potter, I'm not at all surprised. And if it's ever going to happen to someone, I expect it'd be you. Yes, I'm quite glad you want to stay in my class."

"I'm entertaining, if nothing else."

"You're entertaining on top of everything else. You show great potential, and I always want to encourage that in any way I can with my students, especially a student coming from such a solid magical background, not only in my subject and in magic, but in the theories of magic. You've had very good tutors. I hope you realize how fortunate you are."

"Oh, I've never doubted it," Harry assured him.

"Good. But they can't take all of the credit. You're quite gifted. And you approach Potions in a way that most of the students in my classes don't. I hope they learn something from you."

"It's nice to know that my crazy ideas are appreciated by someone," Harry said with a grin.

"If not appreciated, know that they're at least amusing."

Harry grinned even more. "All in a day's work, Mr. Saund. I'm just doing my job. It's a burden that I'm willing to most valiantly bear."

"I'm sure you are, Mr. Potter." He chuckled. "But you have someone to meet in the library, young man, and I'll see you in class this afternoon."

"That you will, sir." Harry got up and pulled on his backpack. "Thanks for helping me get this worked out."

"Of course. Be sure to note my office hours. Potions is one of the greatest forms of magic, capable of feats beyond imagining, but the talent requires nurturing and patience for it to blossom. Never be discouraged if something doesn't work out the way you think it should, and come see me any time you need to."

"I'll remember that."

Mr. Saund chuckled again. "And even if you aren't having trouble, feel free to stop by and see if I'm busy. You might appreciate some of the stories I could tell you about my travels and working with PAW."

Harry eyed him. "Are you trying to recruit me for the program? Because frankly, while it sounds like something I'd love to do, it's not happening."

Mr. Saund gave him a curious look.

"Harry Potter, sir. I can't go to the store without at least two bodyguards."

"Ah. Yes. No, it was not a serious intention to try and recruit you. The thought crossed my mind that my stories might intrigue you, but I do believe you'll enjoy the stories in their own right."

"Then I'll definitely stop by sometime. And I should definitely be going. You have a magnificent day, sir. I'll see you in class."

Mr. Saund waved him out with a small chuckle.

Harry paused outside of the office, pulling the door closed distractedly as he considered the photographs. He slipped his hand into his backpack, rubbing his thumb against the corner of the note, lifting his other hand to trace over a few of the photographs thoughtfully. His study was interrupted as his watch gave an agitated buzz, reminding him of his tardiness.

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"Hmm… Most, most, most curious!" Healer Zohler groped along the table for a pen as he studied the test results in front of him. His assistant looked up from adjusting some of the settings on the Magical Current Scanner, then reached over to push the pen into his questioning hand. "Yes, thank you, Rebecca. And now, if you'd-"

"Elizabeth," she put in.

He looked up, blinking owlishly behind his glasses. "Rebecca Elizabeth?"

"Just Elizabeth."

He pulled the cap off of the pen slowly. "Are you quite sure?"

"Yes, I'm quite sure," she told him patiently. "It's the name I learned to write in Kindergarten."

"Well! You would know!"

"Yes, I would," she agreed.

"Elizabeth it is, then!"

"For the next ten minutes, at least," she murmured with a faint smile, grabbing the calculator that was about to slide off of the table as Healer Zohler turned back to his work.

Healer Zohler patted the printouts, his notes to the side, lifted up a ruler curiously, then put down the pen to reach for a pencil. "Have you seen my calculator? I rather thought I just had it right here. Oh! Thank you. Excellent. Most excellent." He accepted the calculator and placed it beside the results printout. His eyes skimmed the figures, abbreviations and charts briefly before he began to scratch out notes in the margins, tapping numbers into the calculator and mumbling to himself.

"So you've seen this before?" Suntree asked, moving over to the table to stand next to Harry's chair.

"Oh my! Yes!" He peered over his glasses. "Certainly! Once. Oh, but she was quite the fascinating young woman, yes, quite the fascinating young woman indeed. She showed almost no magic in her own tests, almost none at all, but she could twist and turn just about any spell as it was being cast, twist and turn it into nearly anything she desired, to whatever suited her pleasures, oh she most certainly could." He sat up a little straighter and tapped the pencil against his lips. "She also occasionally thought she was a rabbit," he mused. "That was most odd."

Harry looked up from his effort to read the only half familiar scan results upside down, biting his lips on a snigger as he glanced up at Suntree. Suntree's mouth twitched and his eyebrows rose slightly as he laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "As fascinating as this is, Zohl, it's not actually very relevant."

"Oh! Oh, yes, yes, of course, quite right, no, it certainly isn't." He bent over the calculations again. "Relevancy, yes, of course."

Harry leaned forward, trying to make sense of the strings of numbers, letters, and odd symbols that Healer Zohler was peppering the margins of the printout with.

"So, you said you've seen this before?" Suntree prompted after several minutes.

"Yes!" Healer Zohler looked up. "Yes! I've certainly seen it, yes, most certainly, and most fascinating." He pushed his glasses up to peer searchingly at Harry. "You don't, by chance, happen to think you're a rabbit?" he asks intently.

"Nope. I can't say that I do."

"Have you ever felt like a rabbit? Might you ever feel like a rabbit?"

Harry considered that, scratching at one of the stickers holding down a magical current sensor on his arm. "I may have once felt like a rabbit when I was seven. It might have been a rainy Thursday. There was probably popcorn being popped. I was likely wearing frog pajamas. But I don't think I've felt like a rabbit since."

"In other words, no, he hasn't," Suntree put in dryly before Healer Zohler could get excited.

"Oh. Oh yes. How about a llama?" Healer Zohler asked. "Have you ever felt like a llama? I've met a llama, I've met a man who could turn into a llama, and I've met a woman who was once turned into a llama, but I've never met someone who thought they were a llama."

"I once pet a llama," Harry offered with a grin.

Healer Zohler nodded slowly. "As have I, young man. As have I."

"You've said you've seen this before," Suntree prompted.

"Quite! Yes! Incidentally, you can take all of those off now." Healer Zohler waved to the sensors.

"Finally." Harry quickly began to peel off the round, white pads covering his arm. "These things feel so freaking weird, like little pops against my magic." He began to rub his arm vigorously at the odd tingling sensation they left behind.

"Certainly! That's exactly what they're doing! Little pops, exactly, popping against your magic, making your magic pop back, and the sensors take all of those little pops and send them to my magic popping reading machine-"

"Actual name," Elizabeth mouthed, catching Harry's eye. Harry coughed on a giggle.

"-and it reads exactly how the pops are popping!"

"Zohl. Focus."

Healer Zohler looked back to Suntree. "Oh! Yes! It's a Magurist theory, actually, that someone who doesn't recognize any boundaries or limitations on magic won't be held to the same rules of magical casting. Fascinating theory! Fascinating and curious and not seen in practice very often, no, not very often at all." He leaned forward, drumming his fingers on the table in excitement. "You see, most magical people learn this concept of personal power objects, that is, wands or rings or whatever you use to focus your magic being yours, and people never even realize they've learned it, they don't, they don't realize it, they just know it, they know it as commonly accepted fact, which is, in fact, not fact, but in fact is fiction, and-"

"Whoa, Z, dude, pause that thought," Harry interrupted, sitting back, mouthing to himself. "'Commonly accepted fact, which is, in fact, not fact, but in fact is fiction.' I am so stealing that. Stolen. Mine. Sunny, remember it. Carry on, Healer Z."

"Yes! Very well! Certainly! You see! People know it as commonly accepted fact, that a wand is simply yours, it belongs to you, is tied to you, which is, technically, incorrect." He waved his hands around grandly. "Oh, it's complicated, but! But! But! People subconsciously accept that someone else's spell is someone else's spell and that's all there is to it. But you, young man! You obviously don't see the boundaries of magic belonging to a person." He doodled on the corner of his printout as he considered Harry. "But, it is complicated. This is most odd. Most odd."

"That's my name, don't- wait, no, that's not my name." Harry grinned. "That's my job description."

"Quite indeed!"

"I almost hesitate to ask, but – what's odd?" Suntree asked.

"Ah! Yes! Well. It is most complicated." He leaned forward on the table. "While it is technically incorrect, there are some elements of truth, you see. You do embed your magic into a power object, and that does make it more difficult to use, and the magic of a power object becomes attuned to your magic, and that does make it more difficult to use, but that is not an absolute. So, you see, I would have completely understood if this had happened this casually with John Kigg, considering how often you're interacting with his magic, how his magic has come to accept yours, how often your magic already alters his, no, no, his magic would not have balked at the small interference, you would be familiar with his magical patterns and not cast contrary to the natural flow, but for it to happen so easily, so casually, so simply with someone else, that's most odd, most intriguing, most fascinating, most-"

"Holly."

"Most Holly?" Healer Zohler asked, perking.

Harry sniggled. "It is most Holly. But I meant Hollen Davish. I'm… let's say familiar. I'm familiar with his magic."

"Oh." Healer Zohler took off his glasses to study Harry intently. "I know Davish, yes. A most… complex person."

Harry snorted. "That's a bit of an understatement."

"So… you interact with Davish's magic?"

"Well. Yeah. Though… I think it's more like Holly's magic tries to bully mine and my magic puts his firmly in its place, and then pats it on the head…"

"Young man." Healer Zohler pressed his lips together, considering a point just past Harry's left shoulder for a moment before focusing on Harry again. "I would most like to see this interaction firsthand."

"Yeah, somehow I get the feeling that Holly isn't going to jump for joy at the thought of coming in to be studied," Harry said, trying not to grin at the image. "Actually, I think he's likely to have something very vitriolic to say. But I can ask."

Suntree raised a brow. "Vitriolic?"

"See? I do look at that word-a-day calendar you got me for Christmas."

"So! So indeed, so indeed, and no indeed, Auror Davish would not be pleased to come in, not at all," Healer Zohler agreed. "He is a most… disagreeable man."

Suntree made a noise halfway between a snort and a cough.

Harry grinned. "Yeah, Holly has some rough edges, I'll admit. And his rough edges have rough edges, and those rough edges have rough edges of their own, but underneath all of that, there's… probably some craggy, sharp rock hidden beneath a turbulent ocean, to be honest, but understand all of that-"

"You have most certainly been interacting with his magic! Quite so, quite right, he will not take happily to the idea of visiting to have his magical interactions studied. And I do so feel it could help him greatly if he would just come in more often."

"It's… Holly."

"Zohl, what about Jamie's new ability?" Suntree asked. "Fascinating, unusual, no limits, thinking he's a rabbit… and it all means?"

"Oi, I'm not a rabbit," Harry protested. "I'm a flamingo."

Healer Zohler looked up swiftly. "You sometimes think you're a flamingo?"

"I sometimes think I'm an orange cabbage singing in a choir with elephants on a hot air balloon over a field of marshmallows. And that'll be the last time my divination teacher wants me to share a dream from my dream journal with the class."

Healer Zohler's eyes widened and he scrambled to find a clear space to start writing.

"Z, dude! It was a joke! I mean, I really had the dream, but I ate some really questionable pizza before bed and I'm thinking that was a Jupiter sized mistake. Honestly, I don't seriously think I'm anything."

"Oh. Oh, yes, of course. Of course."

"And Jamie's intriguing new ability?" Suntree prompted. "This time try to complete the thought."

"Yes! Certainly! Back to this new twist, this fascinating turn, this most intriguing quirk, yes, back to that!" He set his pencil down and put his glasses on again. "Though, young man," he peered over his glasses, "I must insist that you read up on stress and fractures and breaks in auras, now that you're interacting with Davish's magic. You should have a greater understanding of what your magic will be in contact with. You are not to change anything you're already doing, no matter how helpful you think it may be; simply having this knowledge will give you an unconscious advantage in avoiding things best left alone."

"Sure."

"Excellent! So, what were we talking about?"

"Mr. Potter's ability to alter another person's spell before it's cast," Elizabeth supplied.

"Ah! Yes, rare, quite rare, but not unheard of, not without its basis in theory. Your magic simply does not recognize boundaries, young man, as simple as that." Healer Zohler beamed, looking expectant.

Harry couldn't help but grin back. "Awesome. So, what does that mean?"

"Quite simply, if your magic can worm its way into someone else's magic, find a way into a spell, there's a rather good chance it will. You have no magical boundaries, young man. Do you see? Everyone could do this, in theory, always in theory, if they knew wandless magic, if they were a friend to magic, if they were of a Magurist belief, and even though so few do, the theory is sound, the basic truth that anyone truly could do that, if the conditions were met, if-"

"Breathing is your friend, Healer Z," Harry cut in.

"And stringing thoughts into actual sentences never hurt either," Suntree added a little dryly, mouth twitching.

"The thing is, Healer Z," Harry continued, leaning forward, "why did my magic alter the spell right then? It's never done that with Holly's magic before. Or Mr. John's magic for that matter."

"Ah! Correct me if I'm wrong, and I daresay that I won't be, I often find myself to be quite right, very right in fact, but do correct me if I'm wrong – very shortly before the uncast spell altering occurred, you had done something quite significant with magic, something that took you out of your own magic entirely and connected you directly into the flows of magic around you, yes?"

"I… Oh! Yes! I expanded my dorm room with space-layering." Harry sat back, buffing his nails on his shirt. "It was pretty impressive, if I do say so myself."

"Yes! Of course! Certainly! Yes, of course, precisely, you were one with magic, you were as magic, you were magic, doing as magic does, uncontained, unrestrained – it's a little wonder that you connected with another person's magic when you reached out to them after, especially the magic of someone you know well, magic that you know well and force into order and-"

"I prefer to say that I give Holly's magic much needed magical hugs," Harry said with a sniff.

Healer Zohler considered that. "I expect that's figurative? One mustn't just assume with you."

Harry giggled, coughed, and turned it into a snigger. "Figurative, yes."

"So! Thus! You expanded your magical awareness when you expanded your room! You certainly did! And then you reached out to a magic, a magic that is quite used to your influence, quite willing to be influenced by it, in fact, and you had great intent, and the magic lacked strong focus, the two met, and thus the spell changed. Not unreasonable at all!"

"Thank you." Suntree leaned against the back of Harry's chair, eyes lifted to the ceiling for a moment. "Over twenty minutes after I first asked, but thank you."

Healer Zohler beamed. "You're quite welcome!"

Harry coughed on another giggle, pulling his legs up onto the chair and wriggling until he was sitting cross-legged. "So! It was just a one time thing sort of thing?"

"Ah! No, not necessarily, no, not if you desire otherwise. You see, it's an ability that you possess, and now that you've unlocked it, you've experienced it, you are able to recall it, and I daresay with some focus and work, you could quite likely duplicate it, yes, certainly. But the choice to do so is entirely your own. This isn't like the other abilities you've shown, ones that require, nay, demanded that you understand them, embrace them, develop them. No, you may be able to just sit back and do nothing and choose not to explore this any further."

Harry planted his elbows on the edge of the table and clasped his hands together, resting his chin in his hands. "What would exploring it entail?" he asked curiously.

"Practice! You must practice! You must rediscover it, understand it, recreate the experience, do it again reliably, and from there you can explore and practice and truly harness the potential, truly explore the depths of this ability. It will require dedication, understanding, self-belief, confidence, concentration – all things that you have!"

"This is going to sound like a stupid question-"

"Ah! There are no stupid questions, young man! There are only times when a specific question is, in fact, stupid to ask."

"Yeah, that makes me feel better-"

"Excellent!" Healer Zohler paused, peering at the ceiling for a second before focusing on Harry again. "Oh, wait, was that sarcasm?"

Harry tried not to laugh. "A little bit. But the question, hopefully not stupid – what exactly would I be able to do with this ability if I did try to harness it? I mean, I get that there's value to it, and it's certainly super cool to alter a spell to get exactly what I want, like I did with Holly, but there are other ways to do that, and they wouldn't involve me putting one more thing on my already very busy schedule."

"Not as stupid as it could have been! Well done!"

Harry snickered. "Go me."

"Go you indeed! And it's actually a very interesting ability, very interesting, and with so very many applications. Why, I know many a ward breaker who would give some non-essential part of their body for an ability like this! This goes beyond simply altering a spell in motion, in mid-cast, one still anchored to another's magic; it goes far, far beyond that, far beyond and into an ability that can mature into altering the magic left behind in something, something sitting idle, sitting passive, long separated from the caster, such as the magic in a ward, in any manner of object, and even foreign magic on a person. You could very well take something that may be deadly and make it only harmful, take something harmful and make it only irritating, take something irritating-"

"I'm definitely on that thought train," Harry interrupted. "I can see the station ahead. There's a woman standing on the platform with balloons." Harry sat back, hands curling around the edge of the table. He ran his thumb over a scar in the woods, licking his lips. "So… it would work on something like, well, Mr. John's curse?"

"Ah." Healer Zohler pursed his lips in thought, sitting back himself. "Oh. That is quite the thought… yes, quite the thought. In theory… yes. In theory, always in theory. But… don't get your expectations aroused with that. I have studied Mr. Kigg's specific situation at length over the years and his situation is the sort of thing we'll likely never see again."

"But I've had a lot of success in easing the curse," Harry countered. "Surely-"

"No. No, I'm sorry. A simple curse, an interrupted curse, the backlash of a ritual, even sitting untouched for years, perhaps even magically festering; for those things, yes, something probably could be done. But no, it's simply… a curse that has been warped by crossing over a tainted ward, then through the disjointed magic of an interrupted ritual, even as the ritual magic backlashes, impacting someone attempting to build a very complex shield that's pulling magic from that contaminated environment, a shield that's also draining the caster of every last magical resource they can push into it, an act that just by itself would leave a healthy person in the hospital for weeks trying to recover – no. No, simply cannot predict how altering the lingering curse obtained in that sort of situation may act, no matter how thoroughly you study it."

Harry leaned forward, mouth working silently before he managed a startled, "What?"

Healer Zohler's mouth formed a small 'oh' as he clasped his hands tightly. "Oh. You… didn't know. I see."

"But, I… No…" Harry trailed off as Suntree rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

"Working as you have with him, with his magic, with his curse, I had thought you would have to know something to work with it…"

"No." Harry shook his head. "No, he… he never wanted to talk… and I never wanted to press. I had no idea."

"How have you worked with his curse so successfully?"

"I've just…done it."

"You really knew nothing?"

"Nothing."

"Not even a little thing?"

Harry shook his head. "Nada. Not a thing."

"As in zip?"

"As in diddly, zippo, zilch. He's never said a word. I've never asked."

"Then I think it best that I say nothing more on this subject." Healer Zohler straightened the printout and lined up the calculator, pen, and pencil just so along the edge of the paper. "Moving on, then. That is an aspect of this new ability of yours." He brightened. "But! There's a wide range of other applications, like strengthening a spell, working in seamless concert with another person, and that, quite frankly, is quite fascinating to muse on, and then-"

"I think I got it," Harry cut in. "Just… yeah, it does sound useful. But I don't know. I'm really busy." Suntree gave his shoulder another squeeze. Harry leaned into him slightly, easing his shields down to let Suntree's well ordered, confident, calm aura soothe him. He looked up at Suntree. "What do you think, Sun?"

Suntree raised his brows slightly. "This is a decision that isn't mine to manage. Only you can decide if you have the free time and the commitment to explore this new ability in full."

Harry nodded slowly, looking back to Healer Zohler. Zohler continued to watch him with slightly wide, expectant eyes behind his glasses. "It's all pretty intriguing, but I'm not sure… Can I get more information on this? So I can figure out just how much time and work we're talking about?"

"Of course! I just- and then- but- and, of course- yes."

Harry burst out laughing. "How about you slow that down and complete each thought so it makes sense to everyone not sharing your brain?"

"Oh! Of course! I just need to finish evaluating the printout and then take a quick look at previous printouts to evaluate any shifts in your aura and abilities, just in case there's something more subtle developing, but that shouldn't take long at all, and, of course, I'll put together all of the information that you'll need and probably some that you won't, so definitely, yes, I can do that." He bent his head over the printout without waiting for a response.

"Cool." Harry began to tap his hands against his knees, singing under his breath, as he watched Healer Zohler write, calculate, and then write some more.

"Your mother is right," Suntree said after a minute. "No matter what the lyrics actually are, the music just sounds angry."

"Blind Guardian rocks. And it's about hobbits; there's no rage in hobbits."

Suntree snorted. "Why don't you go wait in the break room?" he suggested. "I think you'll be safe walking from here to the LES without a bodyguard."

"I don't know. The path to the Law Enforcement Section is full of monsters and danger and squeaky nurse shoes."

"I think you'll survive," Suntree said dryly. "Go spread some Jamie joy. Or do some homework."

"Woo, joy spreading here I come." Harry wriggled to free his legs from the arms of the chair, then stood up slowly and stretched. "Homework, not so much."

"You do have your hospital ID, right?"

"Always." Harry scooped up his backpack. "And my USAS badge, and my Hathorne ID, and my CPR-magical resusususcitations card, and-"

"Resuscitations," Suntree corrected.

"That one was on purpose. Do you have any idea how much fun the sound 'sususus' is to make?"

"Resuscitations."

"Resuscitations. Happy?"

"Ecstatic beyond words."

"Hey, can I get some money? I want to get a snack from the food giving machine."

Suntree pulled out his wallet and held out a handful of crisp ones.

"Super awesome groovy." Harry tucked the ones into his pocket and gave Suntree a brief hug.

"Yes. So awesome. Super groovy. Now off you go."

Harry pulled back to eye Suntree suspiciously. "Are you trying to get rid of me to talk to Healer Z privately?"

"No."

Harry gave him a slow up and down. "Are you lying to me?"

"No."

Harry tapped the side of his nose in a knowing motion, prompting Suntree to roll his eyes. "Catch ya later, Healer Z," he said, giving Healer Zohler a wave as he headed for the door.

"Yes! Have a perfectly wonderful day!" He looked up, beaming, then bent over the printout again. "Though, do give me a few months before you do something else amazing that shall require my attention. I really am quite busy these days."

"I'll totally try, but no promises." He grinned at Elizabeth and gestured to her name tag, mouthing, 'it needs to be bigger.'

She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

Harry skipped out of the room with a grin.

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Harry relaxed into the overstuffed armchair, breathing in deeply, meditatively, as he closed his eyes. Around him the nearly empty first floor dorm lounge was quiet save for the paper-filled sounds of study and the occasional murmur as someone asked if anyone knew this about that, followed by a few minutes of quiet exchange before the room lapsed back into study silence. He listened for a few minutes, headphones silent against his ears, but still quieting the murmurs around him to just a buzz of background noise. Once Harry had reached a place of slow, even breathing and unrushed thoughts, he pressed play on his CD player. Heavy drum beats began to fill in his ears, just at the edge of being too loud. He turned his focus inward, assessing his magical aura. It was at ease, like a jungle cat, lazy and half napping on a tree branch on a hot day; more importantly, though, it was steady and strong and balanced, and Harry felt no apprehension as he carefully lowered his aura shields to let the atmospheric magic seep in around the edges.

The magic around Hathorne was more powerful than most magical places he'd visited, and time and careful use of the magic made it slow moving and steady despite being fed by two powerful mountain ley lines. In fact, it was peaceful and gentle, and after regular Animagus meditations, it was growing comfortingly familiar. Instead of sinking his magic inward this time, though, seeking out his next animal form, he relaxed his shields even more and allowed the wash of magic to settle over him, mingling with his magic.

He needed no adjustment as the curious blend of seeing, feeling and almost tasting took over his senses. The people in the room were more present to him than when he'd been looking at them, their magic expressed as bursts of frenzied activity as they thought and felt and interacted with the world, even sitting still. In comparison, the ward-filtered atmospheric magic was ever-present and mild, except where people-touched magic left pockets of agitation, like an unexpected swell of flavor in an otherwise mild dish.

The maelstrom of magical auras left quickly-fading aura impressions in the atmospheric magic that spread out as they faded. Faint trails of cast magic crisscrossed the room and lingered briefly. Rigid wanded spells held their shape longer, but the wandless spells dissipated the slowest. There were even fainter whispers of magic left behind as enchanted technology drew in the atmospheric magic to run and released tiny discharges to keep the converted magical flow steady and even, but those lingered for only a second.

Harry could have easily stayed in that space, cocooned in magic, but he floated there only long enough to wrap himself safely in his own magic, rooting himself until he was well anchored in his own body before he lowered his shields to almost nothing. The magic surrounding Hathorne sharpened, growing almost tangible against his skin, something he could reach out to touch, grip, mold, hold. It tickled his magic, crawling over him, inside him, leaving behind something akin to an aftertaste, like the ghosting touch of a spider web with the wispy, cloying sweetness of cotton candy. The world shifted and Harry was calm and never ending and connected to all things, the very magic of Hathorne, of the mountains, of everything, balance and power, infinite. For an endless second, there was no Harry, just pure magic, and then the world blurred. It was like his feet had gone out from under him on an icy ridge and he was falling endlessly over a cliff, head over heels over head, and then his magic jerked him back into himself nauseatingly. Training kicked in and Harry tightened his shields completely, cutting off his awareness of outside magic altogether.

Harry took slow, calming breaths until the magic nausea passed. The drums pounded in his ears as he shifted each part of his body, toes wriggling in his socks, feet digging into his thighs, legs shifting, back arching, arms drawing close to his body, fingers curling into the fabric of the chair. He let his chin fall to his chest. As his body relaxed, his magic began to unwind from its defensive knot, sweeping through him until he was re-centered enough to ease his shields open again. Once the atmospheric magic had crept into his awareness and the world unfolded around him again in its ebb and flow, he felt better than he had before he'd begun. He didn't even start when someone tentatively touched his wrist, though his magic reached out to prod against the other's magic curiously; it was unfamiliar.

Harry opened his eyes slowly and pushed his headphones down around his neck. The young man standing next to his chair was vaguely familiar, a face he'd seen somewhere outside of Hathorne, and not in person. "I know you from somewhere…" Harry noted the well tailored clothes, sharp yet functional dress boots and the braided bracelet around the young man's left wrist, half caught under a simple silver watch. "Ah."

"Ah?"

"Ah. You're President Keller's son, right? Johnathan. You're wearing a locator bracelet. Secret Service issue."

Johnathan fingered the bracelet with a wry look. "You can tell it's SSI just by looking at it?"

"I can tell its SSI because it's on your wrist," Harry said with a laugh as he extended a hand to shake. "It's nice to finally meet you." Harry's grip on Johnathan's warm hand lingered for a moment as he assessed Johnathan's steady, confident, slow moving aura. It was streaked with a tang of nervousness, but nervousness well hidden under steady, earthy discipline. Harry released the hand with a smile. "It almost seems like it ought to have happened before now, given everything we have in common."

Johnathan chuckled. "You'd think." He nodded to Harry's wrist as he moved to perch on the arm of the chair next to Harry's. "I see you're not wearing yours."

"I wear it when I leave secure areas." Harry shrugged. "Hathorne's locked down tight, though, campus and town. Tight enough that the need to have a bodyguard present anywhere around here was never even an issue to be discussed."

"Personally, I was told to always wear it, no matter what or where."

"If someone actually manages to break through the onion-layered forest defenses, the perimeter and town defenses, get onto campus and into the school itself, and then successfully lay their hands on me and forcibly remove me from this location… I almost need to say, 'well done, you deserve to have me. Until I kick your ass.'"

Johnathan snorted. "It doesn't really work that way."

"The sentiment remains true enough, though. If someone does manage all of that, they're going to be skilled enough to recognize a locator bracelet and remove it. And chances are they're going to be skilled enough to remove it intact and place it on an unsuspecting moving target of some kind, leading anyone using it to track me on a merry chase that's only wasting time. Time I probably won't have, to be honest."

"Oh." Johnathan fingered his bracelet again, looking thoughtful.

Harry laughed. "Keep wearing yours. I don't want to be responsible if something weird happens and you're not wearing it."

"Don't worry, I will." Johnathan glanced around the room. The handful of people scattered about weren't paying them any attention. "I expect you're fairly busy these days," he remarked, looking back. "You always look pretty relaxed, but if anyone knows the hustle and shuffle, it's me."

"Hathorne is introducing me to a whole new realm of busy I hadn't realized existed. I've begun to suspect that there's a dimension that's full of busy like it's gravity and it presses into our reality when you least want it to, leaking busy all over the place, collecting in little pockets of free time until you're drowning in a sea of no time left at all."

Johnathan began to laugh.

"What about you? A lot of my busy is behind the scenes, as it were, so I expect you know about it from Terry or something. But you're always in the papers for YLA, on top of Hathorne, on top of whatever else it is you do."

Johnathan's eyes lit up. "Young Leaders of America does take up a lot of my time, but it's really worth it. And it really is more than just some who's who youth group. We have members all over the US, and even some outside, from all different backgrounds. Young people are the future and it's important to be invested in ourselves if we want a country that cares, that pays attention, that makes a real effort. And it's not just the youth. We give speeches all over the country on important issues that everyone should be paying attention to, real issues, and we promote volunteerism and stress ethical use of magic and responsible magical impact on the non-magical world and… You're giving me a really odd smile." Johnathan finished, looking a little uncertain.

Harry grinned even more and leaned forward to tap Johnathan's forehead. "When you get all intense you get this tiny crease just right there. You're going to have wrinkles and lines before you're twenty if you don't relax a little. Even if it is kind of adorable."

Johnathan rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Adorable, huh? I think my masculinity has to object to that word…"

Harry began to giggle.

"Hey!"

"I can't help it. It's adorable. And yeah, YLA, fantastic organization."

"It is. Though, my biggest problem is that people assume I'm in it because, well, my father is the Magical President. I'm in it because I believe in it. I'd like to think I'd be in it if my father were a fry cook or something- what now?"

Harry waved a hand, giggling even more. "I just got… Sorry. I just got an image of your father in one of his conquer the world suits-"

"His what?"

"Conquer the world suits. Come on. That man knows how to dress. That's all I'm saying. And I had this imagine of him in one of those in a kitchen and it amused me."

"So I saw." Johnathan studied Harry for a moment. "Not to pry or anything, but why aren't you in YLA? I can't imagine that you haven't been contacted."

"I'm Harry Potter. They haven't stopped contacting me. There's just no free time, really. And, well, that's a little more in the national spotlight than I want to be right now. If you hadn't noticed, I haven't exactly been on the map until very recently."

"Trust me, I noticed. Harry Potter is a hot topic to speculate on. Actual facts about you are few and far between."

Harry laughed. "Is that your evil plan, then? Come over, weasel into my good graces, learn all my secrets and hold all the power in the Harry Potter fan club?"

Johnathan smirked. "Which one? The Harry Potter Fan Club? The Official Harry Potter Fan Club? Potter Watch? The Potter Zone? The Potter People? Potter-spotting? Just a Bunch of People Eating Cheese and Cake and Maybe Even Cheesecake, a Harry Potter Fan Club-"

"What?"

He shrugged and continued to smirk. "It's a group. And then there's-"

"Whoa. You know more of them than I do."

Johnathan ran a hand back through his hair with a small laugh. "Yes, well, you hear things."

"Right. That's your plan, then. Get all of the information, take over all of the fan clubs, control the only fan club in the world-"

"I don't think so."

Harry grinned. "Nah, I know what happened. For a second I thought you might have come over to poke me. Harass me with a stick. Steal my plots to take over the world. But you're clearly without an invisible stick and your stealth poke approach lacked all manner of stealth poke. No, the sheer force of my awesome must have dragged you over here against your will. It happens all the time. I'm constantly dragging poor, innocent passerby into my web, never to escape."

Johnathan snorted. "From the things I've heard…"

Harry thumbed the volume down on his CD player until he could barely hear the drums, head tilting to the side a little. "Yes?"

He cleared his throat and shrugged a little. "I just know a few people who expected to have a brief contact with you and ended up staying in contact."

"Sheer force of my awesome," Harry said with a haughty look. After a second he spoiled it by giggling. "And yet, pre-warned, you came over anyway."

"I hear meeting you is all the rage these days. It's beginning to feel like every other person I meet has met you. Not to mention Terrence talking about you over the years-"

"Really?"

"Ad nauseam. And-"

"Technically not the right way to use that phrase, by the way," Harry cut in. "Helpful hint. We're not actually having any manner of argument or debate."

"Technically it's been abused so much I can get away with it."

"Hey, I'm just trying to be helpful. So, Terry's mentioned me a few times."

"More than a few. And my father and Uncle Tom – I mean, the Director of the USAS-"

"Uncle Tom, huh?"

"Old friend of the family." Johnathan shrugged. "They find you interesting enough to discuss fairly often. And my father has said more than once he needs to find a way to meet you without it turning into some sort of big to-do, since he knows you wouldn't appreciate it."

"No, I wouldn't appreciate it." Harry smiled slowly. "They really talk about me? What sorts of things do they say about me?"

"I have no clue. They talk over golf and lunch and things like that. I just hear about it after the fact."

Harry grinned. "I've always wanted to be a lunch time conversation topic. Especially when the discussees are important people."

Johnathan paused. "Is discussees a word?"

"Absolutely."

"I don't think I believe you."

"Wise decision, if I do say so myself."

Johnathan shook his head. "Terrence did warn me to keep my eye on you."

"I'd recommend both eyes. And an ear. And possibly a nostril. But that last one is only a suggestion. Far be it for me to tell you how to direct the attention of your nostrils."

"I… Thanks?"

"Most certainly welcome. I must admit, it's a pity you don't have some idea what they talk about. Not to sound completely full of myself, but it's pretty awesome to hear that people think you're awesome."

"I don't know if they actually discuss your awesomeness," Johnathan said with amusement, "but I suppose some facet of your awesomeness must come up occasionally."

"Ooh, facets of awesomeness. That is an awesome phrase. I approve. Awesomely, in fact. And the President of the Magical United States possibly having awesome conversations about me being awesome in some way, shape, or super awesome form is also completely awesome."

"Whoa… That was a lot of awesome."

"No. What's a lot of awesome is the President wanting to meet me. And, for an extra dollop of awesomey goodness on top, he doesn't want to turn it into some sort of big political to-do. Awesome."

Johnathan rolled his eyes and shifted on the arm of the chair, turning sideways and sliding into the seat so he was sitting properly, leaning against the arm. "You do realize that you're Harry Potter, right?"

"I've been Harry Potter my entire life, even when I wasn't. It's no big deal."

"My father wears blatantly mismatched socks on purpose. It's no big deal."

Harry stared at him for a moment. "Your father's my new hero."

"Of course he is." Johnathan rolled his eyes again. "I'm sure he'll be delighted to hear that."

"You're going to tell him I said that?"

"I am."

"Awesome." Harry grinned. "Going to rub it in that you got to meet me before he did?"

"Well, you are Harry Potter. I mean, I've met some well-known people over the years, but-"

"Harry Potter, yeah."

Johnathan cleared his throat slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's, you know…"

"I know."

Johnathan cleared his throat again. "What are you listening to?" He nodded to the CD player.

"Drums, actually. I'm working on meditation."

"Ah." Johnathan nodded knowingly. "Don't worry; you'll get it. It just takes some work."

Harry bit his cheek on a smile. "I'm sure. So! You call Terry Terrence, huh? Terrence…"

"Hey, until just a couple of years ago I had to call him Mr. Terrence."

Harry began to giggle. "I'm so calling him that the next time I see him. I'm going to call him that forever. He's going to turn my hair green, but it'll totally be worth it. Maybe it'll catch on and the entire USAS will call him that and he'll glare at me every time he sees me."

Johnathan propped his chin up on his fist, considering Harry thoughtfully. "I always thought it would be interesting to talk to you because you're a lot like me, with all of the bodyguard rigmarole and being entirely more important than we actually are, but… I think we're more different than I first imagined. Well, you're definitely different than I imagined, but…"

"You thought I'd be taller?" Harry teased.

"Well, if we're going the way of the cliché, I thought you'd be shorter."

"Huh. That's a first."

A flicker of pleasure crossed Johnathan's expression before he chuckled. "But, no, I just… imagined something different, I guess. What we are is different, after all. A lot of people have bodyguards, but there're only so many people in the world who are important for an idea more than anything they've done. People can mostly relate to you, but they can never completely relate, you know?"

"I'm not sure I follow, actually. More important than we really are?"

"I'm important, by and large, because my father is the Magical President. I do things of my own that people know me for, of course, but it'll be a long time before 'Johnathan Keller, President Keller's son' is added to the end of any description of me instead of the beginning. So my importance is based largely on being an extension of his power, a symbol of freedom and might and all of that. I have to be protected to protect the symbol first, what I represent, and then for what I actually am."

"Oh. Oh, yeah…"

"And you're Harry Potter. Slayer of Darkness. Boy Who Lived. Vanquisher-"

"Yeah, I know the names," Harry said dryly. "Terry keeps threatening to put all of them on a T-shirt for all of my PDs to wear."

Johnathan snorted. "That sounds like something he might do."

"But yeah, I'm Harry Potter, Slayer, so on, so forth."

"But, you know…" Johnathan licked his lips and then chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. "It's just that you…"

"I'm?"

"No offense, but as far as I can tell, you didn't do anything. Your protective magic might have been amazing, even that young, or there might have been some sort of protective ward or who knows, but you didn't actively do something. So your fame isn't warranted any more than mine in that sense."

"I totally agree."

Johnathan relaxed slightly and tugged on his tie, loosening it a little. "So you're a symbol. Good versus evil. David versus Goliath. Right versus wrong. It's kind of inescapable in your story. At least in your case, though, it's directly on you. If I screw up, it's not a reflection on what I symbolize, but on my father and his power base and morals and character."

"That. Sucks." Harry reached forward and gave Johnathan's hand a pat. Johnathan's magic was laced with more confidence, warm and strong.

Johnathan laughed and absently rubbed his hand. "It does. It really does. Luckily, though, I've never been the type to be a troublemaker."

"I'd suggest mischiefmakering, personally. It's a lot more fun."

"Mischiefmakering?"

"Absolutely."

Johnathan laughed again, more softly. "I'll remember that."

"Good plan."

Johnathan shrugged. "Well. Even if your bodyguards have a more casual relationship with you, I'm sure we've had the same experiences with them. Being USAS bodyguards, it's not quite the same experience other people usually have, either. Even people with bodyguards don't entirely understand just what a circus it can be, with the multitude of schedules, and then all of the many back-up plans, A to double Z, on top of exit strategies and defense procedures and-"

"The Emergency Portkey check before you leave," Harry put in. "Every time. Every location. A run down on bodyguard positions as you're mobile, even though you've heard the exact same information ten million times before and you'll hear it another ten million. And then an EPK check once you get where you're going, like you managed to lose the Portkey during the Portkey trip to your location-"

"Oh, that one always irritates me." Johnathan ran his hands over his face with a groan. "No one has ever been able to show me evidence that an EPK can vanish during a Portkey trip. I completely understand needing to test that the magic hasn't destabilized because of the Portkey trip it just went through, leaving me with a Portkey that might randomly activate or not activate at all, but half of the time they don't even check for that, they just want to be sure I have it."

"Redundancies on top of superfluousities on top of-"

"But it is designed to keep us safe," Johnathan said with a small, wry smile. "So we can't really make a fuss."

"I'll admit, as casual as my bodyguard situation might be, I'm looking forward to just making friends here and being able to go to the pool or out to the lake or out for pizza or something and not have my decision to do something completely normal launch a full background investigation on my new friend's family, friends and other important contacts."

"It's a pretty cool experience."

"I'm not under any illusions, of course. I know the background check is necessary, but for once it's not a direct result of my decision to spend time with someone. Hathorne's run a thorough enough background check on anyone connected to the staff and students that I could, in theory, hang out around the school with a friend and his parents without having to have it cleared."

Johnathan sat up a little. "Really? Hathorne runs background checks?"

"Yeah… It's one of the many forms parents fill out for the school, agreeing to a background check if the school deems it necessary. Which it does by default. You can't have a school with so many well known kids and families and not protect them."

"I hadn't realized…"

"I like knowing the security measures in place around me. That's kind of what happens when you're actively involved and being taught about security measures and procedures instead of having certain things just drilled into you."

"Huh."

"It makes for a different bodyguard experience, too. But still pretty damned similar." Harry grinned. "Can you imagine if we went out together somewhere not cleared for free movement like Hathorne and the town? Now that would be a circus."

Johnathan looked to the ceiling. "Man… And your security rating is probably higher than mine, too. My father once had a prince making a state visit and I went out with the prince's son one afternoon and you would not believe the hoops we had to jump through. And we were visiting places that were already considered generally secure."

"As much as I might like hoops, I think I'd like to avoid those. Luckily, my security rating isn't higher than yours. If anything, it might be a little lower, actually. If I'm remembering correctly, your SR is based on having defensive training, right?"

"Yeah…"

"I've had combat training, not just defensive training. And maybe some other kinds of training."

"Maybe?"

Harry tapped his nose.

"Right." He shook his head slightly. "Huh. You know, though… I probably should have expected that. I mean, from the way my Defense teacher talks, you ought to be teaching her class."

"Exaggeration."

"Oh really?"

Harry smiled mysteriously.

"That's what I thought."

"I don't think you ever said why you came over, though," Harry said after a moment.

"Oh. Just to say hi, really. See how you were settling in. How you like the town. You're allowed to visit, aren't you?"

"I'm being treated just like every other L1 student. I just need a teacher to sign off on it; there's no security concern or anything. Not that I've had the time or opportunity yet," Harry added with a snort. "But I'm definitely looking forward to it when I get the chance. As casual as the bodyguard situation is, even going into the non-magical world, even before Harry Potter went public, there were still security restrictions on just up and going out."

Johnathan chuckled. "And I bet you have even more reason to worry about stories getting back to people they shouldn't, like your mom. Considering how much more casual things are for you, after all. I know I have that trouble, and it's much more professional on my end, so they don't report on what I'm doing unless it's something that'll put me in danger."

Harry snickered. "You'd be surprised how much mischief my bodyguards get into that they hope I don't tattle about."

Johnathan chuckled again. "Actually… no; the little I know of Terry when he's not in bodyguard mode, I probably wouldn't be too surprised. But like I said, it's something I have to keep in mind. Not that I'm doing anything I shouldn't. It's just stupid stuff. And despite the fact they actively don't report back on what I'm doing, somehow stupid things just have a habit of getting back to my parents."

"Hmm…"

"Hmm?"

"Teenage boy, stupid things, and a qualifier of 'anything I shouldn't' – it usually ends in exasperation or irritation or some other word that ends in -ation."

Johnathan grinned. "Relaxation?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Agitation."

Johnathan's grin widened. "Imagination?"

"That's enough out of you."

He began to laugh. "But seriously, no, just things my mother would decide are stupid and feel the need to lecture me on, like… going out for breakfast and deciding to get meatballs or something instead of pancakes."

"First of all, pancakes rule. There's something clearly wrong with you if you ever choose meatballs over pancakes at any point, day or night. You should seek some sort of counseling-"

"No, really, feel free to tell me your honest opinion."

Harry leaned forward to tug on Johnathan's black on black checkered tie, loosening it enough to pull it off. "Your tie is neither greatly amusing nor greatly flattering," he told him with a grin as he began to work his own tie off with care. Johnathan just stared at him in surprise. "And you, sir, are too attractive and too prominent to wear a tie that's neither." Harry slipped the tie around Johnathan's neck and adjusted it, then smoothed his hand down the blue silk embroidered with herons in mid-flight. "Much more flattering."

Johnathan looked down at the tie. "I honestly have no idea what to say to that…"

"Second of all," Harry continued, sliding Johnathan's tie around his neck and beginning to tie it, "restaurants don't even serve meatballs for breakfast. That's completely ridiculous. Bacon, sausage, ham, chicken, steak, even fish, but I've never seen meatballs served for breakfast."

"Hey, some restaurants serve dinner all day."

Harry eyed him as he considered that.

"And I could always buy meatballs and fix them for breakfast."

"And your argument dies." Harry sighed. "Right as it was getting up on its shaky newborn legs and taking its first steps towards legitimacy."

"What?"

"The idea of a restaurant serving meatballs as a part of a breakfast menu is absolutely ridiculous and should be treated as such, but you made a fair point on a place serving dinner all day-"

"Yes, I did."

"Yes, you did. More than fair; it's believable that getting something for dinner when you should be getting breakfast is something your mom, or a mom, might take issue with. They're really weird like that-"

"Yeah, they are."

"Then you ruined it all by saying you could just buy meatballs and fix them yourself for breakfast! Are you specifically going out in the morning to buy meatballs to then return home and fix? You're treading back into the land of the ridiculous. And if that's not the case, you've just tried to strengthen your argument for bodyguards being a sometimes frustrating presence that inadvertently get you in trouble for stupid things you do by implying, heavily, that you require a bodyguard presence in your private living space. Are there concerns about potted plant assassins in your life? Or perhaps killer coffee tables? Not even I have that much trouble, and that's saying something."

"Potted plant assass- right, fine, it was a bad example-"

"The worst," Harry agreed.

"But it was the spirit of the example that I was going for, not the specific content."

"Dude. No. The content totally gives the spirit life when all you have is the one example. If the content doesn't make sense, we're not going to party with the spirit."

"Merlin…" Johnathan groaned. "I didn't think you'd be one of those people who overanalyze the amusement right out of something silly."

"Clearly you fail to realize that when you bring up something with as much potential awesome as meatball rebelliousness, it absolutely requires the argument to stand up to at least a gentle breeze of reason."

"You belong at Hathorne," Johnathan said with an odd little smile, eyes straying back to the tie he now wore.

"I know."

Johnathan began to laugh. "Your modesty is astonishing."

"Oh, it really is," Harry agreed. "When you're as super awesome as me, it can be quite the challenge to just come across as awesome." He winked.

Johnathan shook his head slowly.

"I do, however, have an extremely important question that just may help you redeem yourself." Harry fixed Johnathan with a rather intent look. Johnathan sobered a little and sat up straighter. "How… on earth do you fix meatballs in your room? No, seriously. Stop giggling-"

"I am most definitely not giggling," Johnathan cut in, covering up a giggle with a cough.

"Stop making high pitched yet manly noises of amusement, then," Harry corrected.

"That sounds even worse."

"Desist in making noises of merriment and explain how you fix meatballs. Are you reheating or cooking in a microwave? From frozen? If you're going out to buy meatballs to actually fix, they'd have to be cold or frozen. Surely you're not cooking them with a wand – that gets weird. Sometimes it ends in tears, and it's not always the food crying. I seriously don't recommend cooking with a wand."

Johnathan smirked. "It ended with food all over everything, didn't it?"

"I have no comment at this time."

"Hey, pretty good 'no comment' face."

"I've been practicing."

Johnathan's smirk turned into a chuckle and smile, dimples showing. "I've tried it, too. I'm pretty sure everyone does at some point. Apparently it takes great skill to cook food properly with magic alone. Even if you manage not to overheat it, make it explode, or burn it beyond all recognition, it's going to taste awful for some reason."

"So I've heard. From a friend of a friend of a cousin of a friend. So what's your meatball story? What's the secret? A microwave? Not that I have a microwave yet."

Johnathan paused. "You don't have a microwave?"

"No, not yet."

"How do you not have a microwave?"

"I just haven't gotten one yet. I will."

"You should definitely get a microwave."

"Am I to assume from your microwave incredulousness that the meatballs require a microwave, then?" Harry asked dryly.

"You definitely need a microwave. But no. Partway through L3 I had a strong enough understanding and ability with space-layering to expand my room quite nicely – and yes, I know, everyone knows, you expanded your room to epic proportions before you even officially started school-"

"I didn't say anything," Harry put in mildly.

"I'm just saying. For most of us space-layering comes in stages and we slowly expand our rooms during our time here, but I studied hard and practiced independently and managed what was, until recently, a fairly impressive expansion all in one go-"

"Go you, rockin' the layering." Harry wriggled his index fingers back and forth. "Happy finger dance."

Johnathan studied him closely. "The funny thing is… I'm pretty sure you're not mocking me."

"Nah, no mocking here. I'm just being me. Seriously, L3 space-layering rocks, no lie. Kudos to you. I mean it."

"That somehow manages to be comforting and complimentary despite the fact you have the best space-layering skills the school has seen in years. By the way, you have to invite me over to see your room, you have no choice-"

"Consider yourself invited, my good man."

"I'll consider myself invited, then." Johnathan laughed. "But as I was saying, I managed a fairly impressive expansion my third year here and I expanded the hallway leading into the room as well to make space for a small kitchenette kind of area. I installed a proper counter and cabinets, a medium size fridge, and I found a smooth cooking surface, and…" Johnathan smiled smugly, "I have a sink."

Harry sat up straighter. "A sink? A real sink? How did you manage that? Is it one of the water tank models? I looked at those over the summer and it seemed more hassle than it was worth, having to remember to check the water levels and change out the old water and refill the tank and empty the filter and-"

"Nope." Johanthan's smug look only got smugger. "It's a sink from the Magical Home Hardware chain. It comes pre-installed in a counter with all of the internal plumbing and filters set up and it acts entirely like a real sink, no tank, no elaborate pipe systems, no nonsense."

"Sold. That is completely awesome. Magical Home Hardware, right?"

"Yeah. Fair warning, though, it's a nightmare to install. All of the plumbing and filters and everything are set up, but the actual magic that runs it and working out the settings you want and all of that, that's a nightmare." Johnathan sighed a little. "MHH offers completely free installation because it's so tricky and they know it, but Hathorne policy being what it is, for admittedly good reason-"

"Not being allowed to add a luxury item to your room unless you do it yourself does cut down on the rich kids turning their rooms into little palaces, I imagine."

Johnathan nodded. "Which is fine in most cases. But that sink… I'm usually quite good at that sort of magical work, but the sink took me almost two weeks of constant fiddling every spare moment I had to figure out. And my roommate was of absolutely no help-"

"I know that feeling," Harry muttered.

Johnathan winced slightly. "I have a class with your roommate. You deserve a medal for putting up with him if his classroom behavior is any indication of what he's like in private."

"Eh, he's not so bad…" Harry trailed off at Johnathan's highly skeptical look. "Okay, he's probably just as terrible in class as he is in private, but for the moment, I find it amusing. No, really. And actually, I think he has the potential to be a fairly decent person, once he learns how to, you know, be a person."

Johnathan managed to tone down his highly skeptical look to a politely skeptical look.

"No, honestly. I really am more amused by him than anything. He tries so hard and fails so badly."

"You're the one that has to live with him," Johnathan shrugged.

"When he's not trying to be annoying, he's actually a fairly good roommate, too. He's quiet, neat, and generally keeps to his own side of the room and does his own thing. Plus, he amuses my snake friend Serish."

"He… amuses your snake."

"Yep. Yes, of course, sometimes he annoys her, but mostly she finds him amusing."

"Your snake?"

"Yep."

Johnathan eyed him. "Right. Terrence did say you were pretty unflappable."

"That's right," Harry agreed. "No flapping for me."

"And he was right that I'd find you entertaining."

"I am a creature of entertainment. Amuse the masses; that's what I do. And you install evil sinks. How did the epic sink adventure end?"

"Well, like I said, my roommate was of no help. He's a great guy, and he would have loved to have been able to help me, but he does not get along with magitech in the least. If you need something done with plants, he's your guy. Magitech, it's just best for everyone if he keeps his distance. So I was pretty much on my own and there was a lot of trial and error and more than one very messy mistake." He coughed. "My roommate set up a cot in a friend's room for a couple of nights once."

"That must have been a hell of a mess," Harry said with a laugh.

"You have no idea. I've got a pretty awesome roommate, thankfully. As for the epic sink adventure, I just managed to work it out one day, mostly by accident. I held my breath for a week after that every time I used it, like the sink was going to stop working and drench me in water, but I'd finally figured it out. It's been more useful than you can imagine, too, having a sink right there in the kitchenette area."

"No, I can imagine fairly well. Sometimes you just need a sink. So how does it work without pipes or tanks?"

Johnathan leaned in with an expectant look. "The Aguamenti Charm, actually."

"Really? Oh, wait, the third principle? It has to be."

"You sure?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Yes… It'd have to be. Conjuring something from raw magic has to be actively cast every time. It can't be set into an object and be triggered. And there's no way you could pull in enough water from the air to use a sink regularly. It has to be conjuring water from an existing source. Nothing else makes sense."

"Exactly. It's pretty ingenious, really. The water comes from the lake, of course, being the nearest renewable source of drinkable water, goes through a series of filters, comes out of the faucet, and the drain has a reverse Aguamenti on it, sending the water back through a filter and returning it to the lake."

"That's where you had your problem, wasn't it? The reverse Aguamenti."

Johnathan sat up in surprise. "How did you know?"

"Aguamenti is not a spell that takes well to being imprinted on an object for long-term use, let alone on a cycle that uses a trigger. The reverse of a spell like that is twice as tricky. And for the sink to work, the two spells would have to be linked together."

"Yeah, that was the problem."

"You should have started with the reverse and worked off of that."

Johnathan licked his lips thoughtfully. "You just got it. It took me a while to work that out. How did you know that? Have you covered that sort of theory with your tutors?"

Harry shrugged slightly. "I might have. It just makes sense, though."

Johnathan rubbed his hands together slowly. "But it doesn't just make sense unless you've studied complex reverse spell theory. That actually… that felt like you were working that out right then, which reminds me of…" Johnathan's puzzlement cleared. "Oh. You're a natural magic-user, aren't you?"

"That's what they tell me."

"Ah." Johnathan's expression turned more thoughtful and considering.

"The spellwork on that sink must be damned gorgeous," Harry said after a moment when Johnathan seemed content to just study him. "I'd love to see the spell blueprint."

"So would I," Johnathan agreed. "I've studied the magical structure as much as possible, but I don't want to risk changing anything or setting the magical balance off-track so I haven't been able to look much further than the surface."

"I have to get one of those sinks…"

Johnathan chuckled. "I'd help you install it," he said quietly, "but I doubt you'd need my help."

"Oh, hey, just because I can see the way it's supposed to work, that is absolutely no guarantee I can make it work. Magic is way more complicated than that. If that was an offer, consider it accepted. If that wasn't an offer, consider it accepted anyway."

Johnathan made a noise of amusement that was not quite a chuckle. "Just let me know when, then. And maybe you can give me some tips on space-layering while I'm helping you install it."

"I'll do my best with that, but no promises. I'm a Magurist. I don't know how helpful my advice would be to a non-Magurist."

"Of course! A Magurist! That explains a lot."

"Does it really? Am I no longer completely awesome?"

"You're still pretty cool," Johnathan said dryly. "It definitely explains a lot, though. I probably should have figured it out from various clues, even though Terrence never outright mentioned it. I guess… well, most Magurists are really kooky, and you kind of just defy explanation."

Harry grinned. "Don't worry, you'll see kooky eventually. The kooky train stops here. This is a major hub for the kooky train, in fact."

"I'm starting to see the possibility of that." Johnathan's watch chimed softly; he glanced down at it with a faint frown. "I have to check something at the library before class." He looked up with a half smile, eyes sweeping over the room before he focused on Harry again. "My hello turned into quite the conversation. But it was nice." He held out a hand.

Johnathan's magic was smooth and steady against Harry's when Harry shook the offered hand. "It happens with me." He pulled his hand back slowly. Johnathan's magic lingered between them for a moment.

Johnathan glanced down at his hand with a fleeting odd look, rubbing his fingers together, before he looked back to Harry. "Maybe we'll have a class together next semester." He pushed out of the chair and settled his shirt, then smoothed down the tie with a chuckle, fingers lingering on the heron. "I hear you're pretty entertaining in class."

"Mr. Entertainment, that's me."

"I believe that." Johnathan slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook and an equally small pen to scribble something down. "If you ever want to chat about bodyguard gripes or some annoying politician or something, drop by." He tugged at the edge of the paper and it pulled free and wrapped itself up into a small square. "Second floor, room one ninety-three." He held it out.

"Cool." Harry took the paper and unfolded it to study the information. "I'm in room three twenty-eight, the third floor."

Johnathan wrote that down, then tucked the notebook away. "Great. I'll see you around." He lifted a hand in parting and turned to leave. Harry watched him thoughtfully, noting that Johnathan moved the same way Harry had been trained to move, loose and alert and ready to react. "Oh." Johnathan turned at the edge of the room and slid his hands into his pockets. "Hey. I don't know what your Wednesdays look like, but some friends and I get pizza in town around twelve-thirty. If you ever want to go, just be in the stone courtyard by twelve-thirty. They won't mind. We take turns paying instead of trying to split up the bill, by the way."

"Noon-thirty, Wednesday, stone courtyard. Got it. Theory App gets out at twelve-thirty and I have an hour before my next class, so I just might drop by."

"Great." Johnathan grinned. "I'll see you then." He hesitated. "Though, you know this is an election year, and my dad is running again, right?"

"I do have magical TV," Harry said a little dryly. "But I've been paying as little attention as I've been able to get away with, so pretty much all I know are the names of the three candidates and their parties, despite everyone's best efforts to keep me updated."

"I'd understand if you'd rather not come to lunch and be too visible around me until after the election." At Harry's frown, Johnathan pulled his hands from his pockets, folding his arms. "Reporters aren't allowed into town, but word will get around that Harry Potter is spending time with Johnathan Keller and it might influence-"

"I don't care," Harry interrupted. "If your dad was bad enough at his job that even I knew it, I might have to send out a press release or something weird about not endorsing any candidate, but he isn't, so I don't care. And frankly, if people are swayed by the friends a twelve-year-old boy makes…" Harry shook his head. "They're probably going to be getting election advice from their toaster next."

Johnathan laughed. "Seriously, though-"

"No. It's not an issue. End of discussion."

Johnathan hesitated, hands sliding into his pockets again as he shifted on his feet slightly, and then he nodded slowly and ducked out of the room.

Harry considered the place Johnathan had been standing for a moment, then reached out to the arm of the next chair and picked up a short strand of light brown hair, rolling it between his fingers. His eyes shifted to the square of paper. With a small chuckle Harry tucked the strand of hair into the paper, then folded the paper securely and slipped it into his pocket. He resettled the black on black tie, then pulled the headphones back on and restarted his music.

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Amy juggled a stack of books from arm to arm as she tried to fix her backpack straps; Harry tucked a note from the board into his shirt pocket and moved to take her books, falling in step with her. "A moving levitation charm might have been useful," he said dryly.

"What? When I can get a knight in shining bouncing tomatoes tie instead?"

Harry glanced down at his tie; tomatoes bounced from one side to the other, pinball machine style. "Are you mocking the tie?"

"Never."

"Good." He handed the books back when she held out her hands for them.

She slid a little closer to him, giving him a charming smile. "Hey, Jamie-"

"No."

"What? You don't know what I'm going to say!"

Harry eyed her. "You're going to try to convince me to join your advanced charms club, and while I completely approve of the silliness of naming the club Lucky Charms, I just don't have the time."

"That wasn't what I was going to say."

"Then what were you going to say?"

"…Fine, that's what I was going to say. Really? You're too busy? We meet twice a week to accommodate different schedules, and-"

"No. Trust me, I'd love to join Lucky Charms, if for no other reason than to tell people that I'm a Lucky Charm." He grinned. "But I honestly can't say with any confidence that I'd be able to make even half of the meetings."

"Fine." She sighed. "All right. I tried."

"Valiantly," Harry agreed. "Oh, hey, you said yesterday that your aunt might be visiting you?"

"Yeah, she might. Why?"

"I'd like to meet her, if she doesn't mind."

Amy sniggered. "Mind meeting Harry Potter? No, I don't foresee that being any sort of problem. At all."

"One day people are going to realize that Harry Potter is really just this weird kid that meditates a lot and they'll get bored and wander off."

"Yeah… no."

Harry shrugged.

"Want to have lunch tomorrow?" Amy asked. "I can pop into town and pick up some Indian food."

"Ooh, tempting. Really. But no, I already have plans. I'm heading into town with Johnathan Keller and some of his friends. He invited me out for pizza. And I'm also busy Thursday, in case you're going to ask. I'm sitting with Maxie and Kimber to go over some of the ritual theory we'll be working with next week."

"Oh ho, Keller."

"Yes. Keller. Why?"

"He's The Untouchable."

"He's the what?"

"He's The Untouchable."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I heard you the first time. Thanks. What sort of ridiculous nickname is that?"

"Ridiculous nickname? What planet have you been living on?"

"One that makes sense," Harry said dryly. "And Merlin help me, I'm closer to reality than you are."

"His father is the freaking Magical President of America!-"

"I had no idea," Harry gasped.

"No, seriously. He's the freaking MP, and while he's not exactly popular with the old blood families and traditional values people, absolutely everyone else loves him."

"It's kind of interesting, really," Harry mused. "For someone who's a Conservative, he's been leaning pretty heavily towards Progressive values lately."

"And people love him! Sure, not everyone agrees with his politics, but he's become a bastion of family values, smarter government spending, and-"

"Yeah, I've seen his reelection commercials," Harry interrupted.

"People might grumble about little specifics, but by and large, you look like an ass if you have a problem with the Magical President-"

"Yeah, because it's so rare for people to be asses," Harry snorted.

"And by extension Johnathan Keller," Amy finished with a huff. "So if you want to not look like a complete jackass, you leave Johnathan Keller alone. I mean, seriously, would you get on the bad side of the son of one of the most powerful and popular people in the country?"

"Sure. If I didn't agree with something he was doing."

Amy stared at him for a moment, then groaned. "Right. Harry Potter. Of course you would; you're you."

Harry stuck out his tongue.

"Yeah, well, most people can't claim to be Harry Potter, so there you go. He's The Untouchable."

"That's completely ridiculous. The Untouchable. But hey, better him than me." Harry fixed Amy with a hard stare after a moment. "They don't have some sort of ridiculous nickname for me, do they?"

"I gotta go." Amy turned to head down a side hallway, then stopped abruptly as a shimmering rainbow of magic blocked her way. "Oh come on. You can't just be throwing up your rainbow wall any time someone tries to run away from you."

"I've only done it three times, and it was all with you, and you're not answering that question with 'I gotta go.' I seriously already have a nickname?"

She turned and shuffled back. "Well… I don't think so. Though if you come across a conversation about someone acting completely outlandish or doing something freaking unbelievable, and especially both, it's usually a sure bet that they're talking about you."

"Well done me." Harry smoothed down his tie. "Perfectly acceptable."

"There's no telling what some of the snobs might be muttering about you, of course," Amy said with a shrug, slowing as they entered the main building's foyer. "But I doubt they'd ever say it to your face."

Harry made a vague noise, pulling out his pocket watch to check the time.

"You're not late," his watch muttered grudgingly.

"Thanks…" Harry shoved the watch back in his pocket, giving Amy a very unimpressed look as she began to giggle. "Thanks. Well, I can't imagine why I'd want to spend any more time with someone who has no sympathy for my constant moody watch struggles, but I'm free for lunch on Friday. Provided there's free Indian food involved."

She giggled some more, nodding. "Yeah, I'll grab food from town and meet you by the lake."

"Fabulous, darling."

She rolled her eyes.

Harry grinned. "I'm off to class. And I'll be sure to add lunch to my calendar so no one else steals it."

"Good. Oh, wait." She set her books down and reached out to straighten his tie, then brushed a bit of invisible fluff from his shirt. "I don't know how you get away with that sort of distraction," she said, patting one of the bouncing tomatoes.

"I don't. I can turn the charm off in class."

"Ah. Of course." She gave his tie another pat, smoothing it down, then gave his shoulder a little shove. "Off to class. Before you're late and your watch gets even more moody."

"Oh, it's going to be moody no matter what I do," Harry sighed, heading up the stairs. "I have to silence it for class."

"Good luck."

Harry waved, taking the stairs two at a time. When he hit the second floor, he turned left towards the divination classroom, passing the west entrances of the library as he reached up to loosen his tie. He nodded to someone who noticed him through the open doors of the library.

"Hey, wait." One of his classmates hurried out of the last set of west wing library doors and joined Harry with a jaw cracking yawn. "Man, I could do with this class being earlier in the day," he mumbled.

"What you could really do with is eating a smaller dinner on the days we have class," Harry said, elbowing Eric in the stomach with a grin. Eric shied away with a whine, then glared. "It's only seven," Harry pointed out. "That's not really late."

"It's late enough," Eric muttered, rubbing his stomach. "And I'm hungry at dinner. If I don't eat, I'll have to eat someone during class or something. I won't have a choice."

"So, basically you're saying that the hunger of not eating for maybe six hours is enough to turn you into a cannibal? That's pretty special. And maybe a little terrifying."

"I get hungry."

"You could just eat something small, genius. That's what I do. And since the caf is open until campus curfew, you have until ten to keep your cannibal tendencies in check. Or you could, you know, take food back to your room for later, or just keep some food in your room, or make friends with someone who always has food in their room and won't kill you for knocking on their door at midnight. You don't have to shove everything you can fit on your plate into your mouth just because your stomach is growling."

Eric made a face.

"Unless you have a bear trapped in your stomach. But if that's the case, you have a whole other set of problems."

"Hah."

"There'll be more pizza tomorrow night," Harry promised. "They always have pizza."

"Eh…"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Boys."

"And you aren't?"

"Apparently not, if being a boy means using a shovel is the preferred method of food intake." Harry opened the classroom door, leaning back against it for Eric to go through first.

"That's because you're weird."

"Yes, weird, but strangely able to stay awake in class. It kind of rocks."

Eric mumbled something as he made his way to the back of the room and sank into his chosen seat. Harry rolled his eyes again with a snicker, settling in his own seat closer to the front of the room and digging his watch out. His tablemate, Kira, was already sitting at the other end of the three-person table. She glanced up as he shoved his now silenced watch into his pocket and began to set out his notebook and pens.

"Letter from home?" Harry asked, noting the Russian characters on the paper she was holding.

She nodded, studying him. "Your tie is loose."

"Yeah. Thanks." Harry tugged at his tie vaguely, twisting around in his chair to study the rest of the classroom. The desks were in the center of the room in two rows of three, and the long, double-sided chalkboards had been wheeled away from the side walls to the front of the room, blocking the charts and posters. He shifted sideways in his chair, nodding absently to the boy sitting directly behind him as he studied the back of the classroom. The pillows, cushions, and bean bag chairs were piled up in the corner of the room, not sitting in front of the floor to ceiling bookcases that took up most of the back wall, and the curtains on the display cabinets had been pulled back, revealing shelves of crystal balls, tarot decks, pendulums, and other divination paraphernalia.

"Is there something interesting back there?" Sean asked, twisting around in his seat to follow Harry's gaze.

"Nah." Harry focused on Sean, brows going up at the dark circles under Sean's eye and general droop of his posture. "I was just getting an idea of what we're doing today. It looks like lecture and discussion…" Harry's eyes narrowed slightly as he peeked at Sean's aura; it was drooping, as well, dull, muddy, sluggish, with a hint of bland cake. "Yeah… you look like absolute crap, like you haven't slept in a week crap."

"Not really. But theory and discussion this evening is all the better for me." He yawned, covering his face with both hands and turning his head to the side. He rubbed at his eyes as he turned back to Harry. "I don't believe I could focus as required for meditation this evening. I was up late researching a potions theory – I think I may have discovered a triple partial-potion combination that can serve as the base for a wholly original creation!" He straightened, eyes lighting up, as his lethargic aura surged with sparks of passion.

"That sounds super totally awesome."

Sean leaned forward earnestly, one hand curling around the side of the desk in a white knuckled grip, as if the desk was going to dash away from him at any moment. "While I was in the lab last week, I noticed that two of the potions that I was brewing for one of my independent projects had similar starting properties," he confided with quiet intensity. "And while I was waiting for one of them to turn the correct hue of orange and the other was in a cooling period, I was researching a third potion to examine the unique ingredient interactions it undergoes during brewing for a hypothesis I'm working on, and it occurred to me that the third potion could very well have a positive interaction with the other two if the three of them were to be combined in just the right way. If I could find that golden combination of those three partially completed potions, I will be on my way to an entirely new creation that I believe will be more than viable, and that will-"

"Haven't you created, like, three entirely new potions since you started Hathorne?" Harry interrupted with a grin. "And by the way, breathing is also super totally awesome."

Sean sucked in a deep breath, clasping his hands on the table as he shook his head solemnly. "Those were really nothing more than modifications to existing potions using theoretical research already available. I take full credit for finding the flaw in the research and adjusting the variables accordingly, but they were hardly original creations. They simply perform as they were intended to now. The theory I proved and the adjustments I made were, admittedly, quite exciting at the time, but in my opinion, the potions community has overreacted just a little to the whole situation."

"Right…"

"I feel strongly that the Potions Approval Board will identify them – quite correctly – as highly skilled modifications. Based on previous research and existing theories not my own, I simply cannot claim them, nor would I want to."

"Go you?"

Sean properly focused on him for the first time. "You seem fairly lackluster in your support."

"Well. You're exhausted. You're in Level Two and you're dual enrolling in Hathorne University's potions program next year. You seriously don't have anything to worry about. I'm pretty sure you can afford to get, oh, I don't know, maybe five hours of sleep a night. It's just a thought."

Sean gave him a lopsided, gap-toothed grin. "Am I going to get the soon to be copyrighted 'take better care of yourself before your brain runs away and then you'll just flop around like a fish out of water singing, "If I Only Had a Brain"' lecture?"

"Hmm…" Harry eyed him. "Not today." He held up a warning finger. "But next time…"

Sean laughed. "I'll remember that." He glanced at the wall clock. "We're running a bit late today."

Harry turned to look at the clock high on the front wall, then grinned over his shoulder as the tap, tap, tapping sound of high heels echoed down the hallway, coming towards the classroom. "Try to look awake, yeah?" he said over his shoulder. "But I doubt you'll fool her spooky mind powers."

Sean gave him a thumbs up.

Harry resettled in his seat, adjusting his pens a little as their teacher walked in. She gave the classroom a sweeping look as she stopped between the two chalkboards, setting her briefcase down on a small table. "I see we're all here tonight. Good." She pulled some papers from her bag, set up two notebooks with enchanted pens to record the lecture, then checked her watch as she turned to face the classroom, smoothing a hand down her dark business skirt.

"Good evening, class. I apologize for being a few minutes late. The University is in the middle of some intriguing psychic research, and as the head of the Divination and Related Studies department, I'm required to be there when we conduct certain kinds of practical tests. Our testing shall conclude within the week, so you'll have to bear with us starting a few minutes late for just a little longer." She rubbed her hands together, studying the students closely. Her attention lingered for a second over Harry's shoulder. "I trust everyone is well?"

The class chorused an assortment of general well being.

"Good." She nodded to the other side of the room. "Mr. Rothburt, do see me after class and I'll arrange for you to get the notes and exercises that you'll be missing on Thursday."

A boy sitting across from Harry frowned. "But I'll be here… oh, okay, right. I'll do that."

"And Miss Summers? I strongly recommend that you reconsider your answer to a proposal that you received sometimes within the last three months. The position you'd be taking would be a waste of your time, as you fear, but the people you'll meet during that time will more than make up for the experience if you stay sharp."

"Thank you, Dr. Byre!"

Dr. Byre's eyes swept the room again. "Ah, Mr. Potter… you continue to make my flashes of foresight both amusing and quite strange."

"It's what I live for, ma'am."

"It's quite odd to find myself saying this, but – for that it might be worth, Mr. Potter, I strongly recommend that you avoid agreeing to an idea proposed to you by someone dressed as a large onion."

Harry opened his mouth, then paused. "A large onion?"

"Yes."

"The purple or white kind?"

Dr. Byre paused in the act of putting on her glasses. "You're actually so likely to encounter more than one kind of large onion that you need clarification? No, never mind, the answer to that is resoundingly yes, of course." She stared into space for a second. "My feeling is the purple kind. Though, they're actually called red onions."

"Got it. Avoid idea-bearing red onions that in reality look more purple than red, even if they're actually called red onions."

She pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. "Yes, Mr. Potter. And do let me know how that works out for you. Please."

Harry tossed out a salute.

Dr. Byre studied him for a lingering moment, lips twitching a little more, before she finished the motion of putting on her glasses. She adjusted the cuffs of her blouse and took a step forward, clasping her hands behind her back.

"The time has come for me to introduce you to my subject and this class. I'm sure that's a confusing thing for me to say, given that we're almost a month in and that's usually something that comes up on the first day, but I've found that the delay serves me well. You see, everyone in here came into this class with an opinion fairly well formed about divination as a subject and the fact you're required to take introduction to divination. Most students are skeptical to some degree, yet curious, a little willing to believe, but there're always students that lean to one extreme or the other, believing that divination holds the answer to every question they have, or convinced that this class is a complete waste of time. Yes, I saw you back there the first few days, Mr. Barr, arms crossed, looking like you'd rather be skinning frogs for potions."

Harry glanced around in time enough to see Robert's faint look of surprise at the comment, and then Robert grinned, laughing along with the class. "I still don't really believe it, Doctor B."

"But you're willing to listen now, aren't you?" She smiled at Robert's nod. "And that's why I wait. Don't get me wrong, I like skeptics. I really do. You keep those of us with a real talent honest. But I like a skeptic who's willing to listen and learn, not just hear words, and I have no right to expect that from the first minute you walk through the door. In another class, yes, you have to trust that the teacher is returning valuable knowledge in exchange for your valuable time for a little while, but I would lose too many brilliant, able, eager to learn students if I expected you to have the same faith in divination, and me, as you have in charms or potions and those instructors.

"So, I wait to talk about my subject and this class. You will be far more willing to keep an open mind once I've shown you that I'm a teacher deserving your time and that there's something of value to learn in this class. I give you documented history, talk about the real people behind the legends and the facts behind the myths, and I invite frank discussion. I ease you into divination practices just a little, yes, but my goal is to engage you in active learning from the very start, before I start asking you to wrap your minds around something that requires more faith. I've learned that if there's one thing that a student at Hathorne will have in common with everyone else in the class, it'll be the passion to learn, to know, and to understand. From there, through the shared bond of education, respecting each other's intelligence and ideas, we can move a little further away from that which you can quantify, qualify and assign values to and embark on a different kind of educational journey.

"Where should I begin? I could tell you that those who sneer at divination because a seer can't predict on demand simply have no understanding of the finer magical gifts. I could tell you that divination is not one of the magic sciences, it's an art, a gift, and just as you wouldn't ask a painter or composer to produce a masterwork on command, so, too, you would never ask a true diviner to foresee the future the same way. I could certainly tell you that, and many other things, and it would be quite perfectly true, but you'd expect that. It would be the predictable song and dance, the usual chicanery – yes, Mr. Potter, I'm sure you like song and dance," she added dryly. "And I'm sure you have a definite opinion on chicanery. You can stop waving your hand around."

Harry grinned. "I just felt it was the right time to add my two cents."

"Oh, I'm sure it'd be worth more than two cents. But there's no need to get excited. I won't be telling you those things. What I'll tell you is this – class has been simple thus far, the dream journal, small readings, lecture and discussion, but that will be changing. As strange as this may sound, this class is easily one of the most important classes you'll be taking at Hathorne, but not for its mystical aspects. While that's the subject of this class, it's not what the class is actually about. What you'll be taking away from this class will be essential skills in meditation and focus that you'll certainly thank me for once you take Ritual Magic in any form, you'll study astrology and deepen your understanding of the relationships between the celestial bodies and their magical power, you'll get a firm grounding in Arithmancy, you'll expand on your ability to think rationally and make solid inferences, and many other things. Divination itself is more than smoke and incense, and there are real skills to be learned in this class.

"I don't expect everyone to become seers, or to have any sort of actual gift. I expect many of you will find most practical exercises ending in bland book interpretations of the physical results you see with nothing of the intuitive involved. The true art requires a real gift, a little something extra that can't be learned, and while a few of you may have it, many of you will have only a wisp of it at best. But all of you can acquire an understanding of divination. Understanding the art only requires a brain." She laughed quietly. "You wouldn't be here if you were lacking that."

Harry raised his hand, speaking as he did. "I'm pretty sure I left my brain on a bus headed for-"

"Trust me, Mr. Potter, you have your brain."

"His sanity, though…" someone in the back of the class snickered.

Harry turned around with a mock scowl. "You're always being mean to me, Lizzy. So mean."

She smiled sweetly.

"As you've seen on your syllabus," Dr. Byre continued, drawing their attention back to the front of the room, "this class is broken up into two sections of study, Logic Divination and Intuitive Divination. So let's jump right in, shall we? You've seen in your readings that not all is well with that division and that there are some within the divination community that believe divining things through logic and study is impossible and only the intuitive workings can be considered true divination. I expect it's become obvious from some of your reading selections that I don't believe that to be true at all, but why? Make note of this, it's very important." She glanced around the room. "Yes, Miss Tuple?"

"Logic Divination is predicting outcomes based on some form of quantifiable data. There's some measurable pattern to everything, even in chaos; it's just a matter of understanding patterns."

"To understand the pattern, yes," Dr. Byre nodded. "That's very important in divination, and in many other disciplines. With Logic Divination, the patterns are easier to find, and the variables that go into the prediction are more easily seen. The variables are also unchanging and have a specific form, and it requires little interpretation to see the signs that we must see before we can begin to interpret meaning. So, what are our divination techniques? And how do they work? Go ahead, Mr. Dealer."

"The variables that need to be interpreted are all numbers or facts or fixed positions, concrete sorts of things, like you see in arithmancy and numerology and palmistry."

"How do we define Intuitive Divination, then? What are those techniques? Miss Castle?"

"It's all intuitive, with more, well, variable variables. There are physical signs you can see, but it's all… It's like looking for shapes in the clouds. Everyone can see the cloud, and most people might be able to see something that looks a little like a dog or whatever, but no one is seeing the exact same thing. It's a lot more mystical and all about unlocking harder to define variables that aren't readily seen by a lot of people, using things like animal entrails, which I sincerely hope we skip, and looking into crystal balls and fire omens."

Dr. Byre laughed. "I expect you see more than enough entrails and other unpleasant things in other classes. We'll be sticking to methods that require only a couple of paper towels or a rinse in the sink to clean up. Don't worry."

"That's a relief."

"Those are our methods. But at its most basic, what is divination really? Divination is very easily abused, and it's not only because people are naïve, gullible, that they want to be fooled. Even the most savvy and skeptical can be taken in by the right fraud. The methods most open to interpretation leave more room to create tales that are magical and promising, but still nebulously possible enough that people not only want to believe in them, they feel they can, that the prediction could come true at any moment. But it's the logic methods that take in the most people. The strictest and most logical methods of divination will almost always provide something, no matter how small, that sounds reasonable, something that people can believe in, and most predictions are quite likely to actually happen. Only a fraction of these people have an undiscovered psychic or magical gift, and yet many of them can make fairly accurate predictions for years. What is divination that allows this? Any ideas, Miss Falaski? You have a very thoughtful look on your face."

"It sounds like… it's an inspired guess based on what you know about people," she said slowly. "It's kind of like Sherlock Holmes."

"And that's exactly what divination is – divining events most likely to happen based on patterns and behavior and personality. Divination is seeing details, understanding people, building a bigger picture and making inferences from it. It begs the question: how do we know that divination of all types is nothing more than cleverness and coincidence? Even my flashes could be faked.

"It's a small world when you attend Hathorne. I could have heard about Miss Summers' proposition from any number of people; I doubt she's kept it secret. I may know that Mr. Rothburt will have a professor asking him to do something during the time of my next class or know a friend of a friend who knows the family is planning something for him. Even Mr. Potter's red onion can be faked, as strange as it may sound on the surface. I gave no timeframe, I gave no location, I gave no details on what sort of idea might be proposed." She smiled slightly. "And yet it's believable, for however much amusement we might get from it, because we know Mr. Potter. A false diviner must always know their audience.

"So how do we know it's not all trickery? How do we know it's not just enough fact layered in with fiction, based on observation and human nature's tendency to repeat past actions, both small and large scale? Many people will tell you that there's no way to answer that. Ultimately, that's something that you have to decide for yourself. I'll just provide you with all of the information I can in the time we have, and in that vein, I'd like to talk to you about some recent studies that have been done concerning the nature of time that suggest there's some legitimacy to true divination. Has anyone seen the M. Schrueal studies?" She gazed around the room. "Three of you. More than I expected." She nodded to Harry. "Would you be so kind as to explain, very briefly, the subject of the studies? And please, Mr. Potter, I do mean briefly."

"It's about the nature of time-turners," Harry said with a grin. "Is that brief enough?"

"A little more, if you please," Dr. Byre said a little dryly.

"The fact that time-turners exist at all proves that magic isn't held within time, captive and stationary. Instead, magic interacts with time and moves through time, though it doesn't keep pace with time. It stands to reason that someone attuned to that magic, like a Seer, could pick up information coming from somewhere in the future or even the past. That's the theory discussed."

"Well done. We'll look at these studies a little ahead of schedule on our syllabus. Madelyn Schrueal has kindly agreed to make time to speak to our class next week, which means between now and then we'll study her theory, look at some of her detractors, and build a good foundation for her visit. As this material is largely unknown to most of the class, I'll be sure to have tonight's lesson transcript sent to your rooms by curfew. For those of you who are staying at home, if you want them before the morning, speak to me after class, otherwise they'll be in your school mailboxes tomorrow. I've also already alerted the library to have the relevant supplemental reading materials and the works cited in her studies to be on our class bookshelf by tonight. So let's take a moment to review the study itself." She waved a hand, sending a stack of photocopies to the front two tables to be passed back. "And then we'll see what's on your minds."