Beta'd by: Scottken
Book II :: Chapter 12 :: Lull
"Imobulous!"
Hermione's shout seemed to freeze time itself as the numerous Cornish Pixies were brought under control. The troublesome electric blue pests frozen in mid-air now hung amidst the wreckage of their mayhem, along with Neville who hung pitifully from the chandelier.
Hermione huffed proudly as she put her wand down, pleased with her work at controlling the chaos.
"A little help?"
A few laughs and chuckles rang out at the sorry state Neville was in but Harry shook his head as none of them were even trying to help. Hermione was looking about to try to find something, a ladder most likely, but Harry was quicker.
With a levitation charm, Harry lifted Neville off the chandelier and lowered him to the ground.
"Thanks Harry." Neville said once he got his bearings.
Harry smiled, turning his attention first towards Lockhart's door. "Colloportus." The spell hit the door that their professor used to escape. Harry smirked at his task's completion before looking back at Neville. "No problem Neville. So…" Harry replied then turning his attention to the rest of the class. "The Professor told us to deal with them and left with no further instructions. If I'm not wrong, that means once we clean up this mess then class is over and we can leave." Harry finished with a grin.
While several students were smirking in agreement, several students were conflicted between having an extra free period or staying to learn under their 'favorite' teacher.
Hermione seemed conflicted herself, torn between staying and going back to her own room to study Harry's or rather her pet project. Still, Harry carried on, using his levitation charm to move the floating pixies into a group to be stuffed back into the cage.
Hermione joined in helping him, raising her own wand to levitate some of the pixies herself. Although she found the task to be a bit harder then Harry's movements had led her to believe it to be.
Half of the class left and by the time the pixies were back in their cage, so too were Harry, Hermione, and Neville.
"I knew that class was going to be awful but I didn't expect the man to be so… incompetent."
"Harry. Professor Lockhart is a really amazing wizard." Hermione disputed.
"Amazing is one word for it. Another is Pesipiksi Pesternomi." Harry mockingly added.
Hermione had the decency to blush at that reminder. "That's…." Hermione bit out before slipping into doubt.
"I'm with Harry on this. There's no way that was a real spell. Though I could be wrong." Neville said with a slight shiver at his recent struggles.
"Okay, so it wasn't the best possible action to take, but at least it wasn't that bad." Hermione said though it was clear she didn't believe it herself.
"You weren't hung by your ears from the chandelier." Neville argued.
"Actually, Hermione's right." Harry said cheerfully.
Neville looked aghast. "Really Harry?" he said, feeling slightly betrayed.
"Sure, imagine if Malfoy was there? He'd be laughing his blond head off at you." Harry commented.
Neville dropped his head at the thought. Sure enough, they would make fun of him, not that he needed help feeling down about himself. Hanging around Hermione had helped him stay out of trouble at least but it wasn't until Harry joined in that he felt a bit more at ease with himself. He didn't know why, but being around Harry made life less serious. Perhaps it was having someone around who was in more trouble than he was, making him feel more competent. Regardless it was strange, talking to a snake and not getting ridiculed.
And it was that truth that gave credence to Harry's words, had the other snakes been there, then his shame would only have grown as they pointed it out. Another reason he liked having Harry around, he was nice to him. He didn't pity him when he helped out, nor did he ridicule his errors.
"That's true. Speaking of which, where is the rest of your house?" Neville asked.
Harry shrugged as he avoided making eye contact. "Either still asleep or in detention for skipping classes." Harry said.
In truth, his little precaution was turning out to be a problem. A week in and everyone was starting to notice the odd behavior of the house of green.
"Speaking of detentions, you've been doing a lot yourself." Hermione pointed out.
Harry smirked as he listed them off. "Pot cleaning for Professor Sprout, Cleaning the transfiguration hallway for Professor McGonagall, Dungeon scrubbing with Professor Snape…"
"Really Harry, what is wrong with you. How did you get so many detentions in the first week?" Hermione said in exasperation.
Harry opened his mouth and inhaled to say why with a smile but Hermione put her hand over his mouth almost as quickly. "I wasn't asking, it was rhetorical."
Neville chuckled, joining in with Harry's own laughter. Hermione huffed but smirked a little.
"So what do you guys have next?" Neville asked, having forgotten himself.
"Potions." Hermione said.
"Of which I have been banned from." Harry said proudly, just to spite Hermione.
The two had a bit of a spat when she learned Harry was forbidden to be in class with the rest of the students. The going lie being that Harry was a trouble-making scoundrel who was a threat to the other students and needed private lessons just to keep up with the rest safe along with detentions to beat discipline into him. Snape's excuse.
Everyone knew this was a lie, having seen Harry's skill in potions, but what they didn't get was why Harry was going along with the detention and private lesson. Of course, a few did suspect, but there was nothing definitive.
A fact Harry was happy with.
"You shouldn't sound so proud Harry." Hermione quipped.
Harry smiled and waved her annoyance off. "Yeah, yeah. So, what are you two going to do now? We have almost half a period left." He asked.
"I think I should prepare for Potions. I-I don't want to mess up again." Neville stuttered out. "I'll see you two later."
As Hermione and Harry watched him leave Harry turned to Hermione. "What about you? I got a free period since I don't have any more classes for the day."
"I'm going to the library." Hermione said pointedly. "I think I might be on to something and I need to look up a few things to confirm my suspicions."
Harry looked at her with a hint of curiosity as well as confusion. "Did you find something interesting?" He asked. He assumed it had to do with her self appointed quest to figure out the connection between himself and Dumbledore but honestly she had been very secretive about it.
"No." Hermione said sadly, obviously in shame at her own inability to quickly find the answer she was looking for. "It's actually in regard to the headmaster. I've been having trouble finding some information on him."
"What information?" Harry asked.
"Information on the battle between the headmaster and the previous Dark Lord before You-Know-Who." Hermione stated.
This caught Harry off guard. He hadn't expected her to be looking that up. However, now that she mentioned it he too was curious. After all, now that he thought about it he realized his knowledge could literally be summed up as 'He fought and defeated Grindelwald'.
"All I've been able to figure out was that during the height of the war, when it became clear no one else could stop Grindelwald's rise and his actions were at their worst, as if answering the call of the people Dumbledore stepped forward and put an end to Grindelwald's terror. Supposedly their duel was unrivalled and in the end, Dumbledore saved the wizarding world after defeating Grindelwald." Hermione lectured before crossing her arms and frowning.
"But that's it. Nothing else. No record, witnesses listed, or accounts of the event. Nothing on the duel, no details about what became of Grindelwald's body, nothing." Hermione breathed out in frustration.
Harry nodded in understanding. The summary alone was suspicious enough to warrant his concern, but the lack of information only amplified his concern and curiosity. The whole event sounded too staged. The Dark Lord reaches his peak power, and a hero of justice swoops in to save the day? Harry shook his head. He didn't buy that one bit. From what little he could assume, everyone was aware of the threat, so why wait to take him down.
The answer was obvious, it was planned that way. Everyone loves a great hero. Someone who saves the day by fighting the strongest evil. What better way to raise your reputation and status than by beating the one evil no one could stop and give yourself the identity of a patron of good.
"I'm guessing there were no witnesses for the duel? Nothing that could be used as a lead?" Harry asked her.
Hermione shook her head, her temperament growing more volatile in small increments. Harry smirked at the very typical Hermione response. A lack of knowledge would always cause her to get riled up. Like a hound hunting down a piece of meat, once she had a taste, there was no way she would let go. So great was her thirst for knowledge.
"Nothing. The History books say there were witnesses, but there isn't a single name to be had."
Harry leaned back against the stone walls of the empty corridor. "Then what about the headmaster himself?" Harry asked, causing Hermione to look at him in confusion. She knew Harry didn't trust the Headmaster so why was he asking her to ask him. "The headmaster's fame started growing rapidly after his duel right?" He asked Hermione to which she nodded, still confused. "Why don't you try tracing back his fame? A red-eye means the stove is hot, right? Maybe you could find a lead if you trace back his rise to power or something. Make a timeline of events and make note of the facts that aren't one hundred percent true."
Hermione thought about that and Harry smirked as a lightbulb lit up behind her eyes. With a stellar grin, she jumped up and gave Harry a massive hug.
"Harry, you're a genius." She cried as she spun around hitting him in the arm with her bag of books as she darted off towards god knew where.
Harry rubbed his left arm. Her heavy bag had left a nice bruise on his arm, turning it into a nice shiny black welt. While happy he could help her, he wasn't exactly sure what his suggestion had inspired in her. While curious, he wasn't overly interested in Dumbledore at the moment.
Passing a hand over the stone wall of the DADA corridor Harry nodded and relaxed a bit. There were no signs here of it opening, and looking down his engraved sigil was still pristine.
"At least everything here looks good, for now." He muttered.
Harry, taking advantage of his newfound time went from floor to floor, checking each sigil that served as an early warning sign for giant snake attacks. Thankfully everything was clear and no signs could be found or felt that something was amiss. Still, Harry double-checked to make sure everything was okay and ready.
"Please Professor! This isn't fair! The new rule is clearly made only to get Harry off the Gryffindor team!" The voice of Katie Bell shouted from beyond the hallway.
Moving to see what was up, Harry made it to the end and looked around the stone corner. There, with an irritated Professor, were Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Oliver Wood. Katie Bell apparently being the most vocal at the moment.
"That's enough! Mr. Potter is no longer the Gryffindor Team's Seeker. Now enough of this." McGonagall bit out angrily.
While he wasn't there for the whole conversation, the topic was enough to deduce from that comment alone. While it was a mild disappointment for him, it was now clear to him that the new rule that only permitted house teams to be composed of house members, wasn't as universally accepted as he thought it would be. Sure, he had bigger problems to worry over, quidditch being a minor inconvenience, but it wasn't like he could relax in other ways. The team however clearly saw this as more than a minor inconvenience.
While that made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, there was also that this might grow out of hand. Harry decided to wait and see how things played out before revealing himself.
"There will be no more talk of this." McGonagall finished with a claymore sharp glare and a prompt turn as she stamped down the hall. The echo of her heels grew deeper and more depressing with the growing distance. Harry had to say he was impressed. Oliver and company must have really been pushing this for a while to have managed to get McGonagall to storm off.
However there was more to it then that. Harry couldn't help but smile as he noticed the frustration on her face as she stormed off. Despite her adamant rejection, it seemed that even behind that gruff and stern demeanor, even McGonagall -like his teammates- was not pleased with the new state of affairs.
Katie and Oliver looked like they were about to cry, although neither did. Alicia placed a comforting hand on Katie who turned and willingly crashed into her friend's welcoming shoulder. Her hands were shaking in frustration. Angelina just stared emptily at the ceiling, her mind working out everything she knew, trying to find a solution that could work to solve the problem.
Aside from the loss of the best Seeker, hell, best player their school had ever seen, they were now down a Seeker.
Nothing however would come to mind and letting out a sigh she placed a hand on Oliver's back.
"Well, we tried." She said, putting into words the final depressing nail in the coffin that was their hopes of keeping their star seeker. They had only a short window to set up tryouts and prepare for the first game of the season. They tried to get Harry back, but it seemed it wasn't to be.
"Damnit," Oliver mumbled out, his voice cracking. Watching Wood, one could almost see him visibly age. Angelina grabbed his shoulder and guided him away. Although nobody knew it, Wood was really hoping to make use of Harry this term.
Harry was not just a superb player, he also motivated the rest of the team to reach his skill level. Being so young, the rest of the team during the later end of the previous year showed greater resolve and devotion to their practices. Like a grindstone, he was hoping to hoist Harry up on a pedestal as a goal that the team should aim for. He certainly was aiming for him, not that he told anyone that.
After that first match, Harry had unknowingly become Woods goal in his school quidditch career.
"Come on Wood. Let's start working on a signup sheet for the Seeker position." She said with false cheer, her own frustration hidden behind a plastered smile. "I'm heading ahead with Wood, you two … should… Harry." she broke off weakly.
As Katie and Wood stood facing him in surprise, the remaining two turned around to see Harry standing there rubbing his head uncomfortably in the morbid atmosphere.
While he didn't mind not being able to play in matches, he honestly made a bit of a connection with them. Quidditch was fun, liberating, and honestly great cover practice for his more eye catching aerial maneuvers.
"Harry." Angelina repeated mindlessly, unsure of what else to say. She stared at him like she was just caught with her hand in a cookie jar.
Harry looked at them one by one and tried to ease the mood with a smile. "I'm guessing the new rules are hitting the team pretty hard?" Harry asked with uncertainty. Based on looks alone, he wasn't sure just how volatile or fragile the topic was for the group before him.
"It's completely unfair." A muffled shout cried out from Alicia's chest. Katie said, still trembling in her friend's shoulder, yet she still wasn't crying from where Harry stood. Despite appearances, her shaking form Katie was still trembling in indignation.
It was a funny scene to see since Alicia, who was no longer hugging her back, just stood there looking very embarrassed and uncomfortable under Harry's amused gaze. Having Katie gripping her so boldly was quite a sight to behold. Harry could only imagine she was grateful the Twins weren't present.
As for why Katie was still clinging to her reluctant friend, avoiding eye contact at all cost it felt like Harry could only hazard a guess.
"Well, it can't be helped." Harry said sadly with the same, 'oh well' attitude he entered the situation with after hearing the new rules.
"How can you be so… so?" Oliver shouted out struggling to find his words. The way Harry had said it was almost like a betrayal of his expectations, his ambition. After all, his goal was treating it like having his skill taken away, not to be used, was no big deal.
"Unphased? Compliant? Defeatist?" Harry suggested.
"Yes! I thought you enjoyed being on the team. We could have won the cup again this year. Now you're gone, we need a new seeker, and we have to deal with the smug attitudes from the other houses." Wood ranted.
"The other houses?" Harry asked in surprise, "I knew Slytherin hated me being on your team but the other houses too?"
"You didn't know?" Katie said, lifting her face towards him for the first time. "Aside from Slytherin, the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff teams are practically giddy with joy that you aren't able to play for us. Some have even openly mocked us in passing saying we could only win with you. Jealous gits. It isn't wrong to say you're a beast on the field and unmatched as a flyer, Harry. It's not surprising everyone's overjoyed at you no longer being on the team. And that's not even mentioning the other students not on any team who are just avid fans of anything quidditch."
Silence ruled over the group for a spell until Harry sighed in resignation. "Well it is a shame I can't play in the matches, but it's not like I can't fly with you anymore." Harry said as his brainchild started to surface.
The four all looked up to stare at him in sync.
"What do you mean by that?" Angelina asked.
"If I'm being honest I only really joined the team because I wanted to fly." Harry admitted before a sly grin spread over his face.
"The new rule only says I can't play on the team. It didn't say anything about not flying with you guys or practicing with you. To be fair there isn't any rule against me flying now that I'm a second-year student; I just need permission." Harry said with the sly cunning smile that the team would expect from one of the twins. He was having a good feeling of déjà vu, only the last time he was in front of Professor McGonagall.
The look on Wood's face seemed to illuminate the whole hall along with the three chaser's upon hearing that. For the lot of them, everyone was already aware of what Harry was scheming.
"I can't help you in getting a seeker, but I can help at practices if you permit me to join you. Unless, you don't want me around." Harry said with a grin.
"No way!" Katie shouted out, turning gleefully towards Wood, her chipper mood restored. "There's no way you wouldn't be allowed to practice with us, right Wood?"
Internally Wood was skeptical but as Harry spoke and the more he thought about it, the more he realized how it could work. There really wasn't a rule against him practicing with them and with his permission. Even without having him on the team, having him play against his team was sure to polish their skills. His hope of having Harry as the team's grindstone, might not have been a complete loss. And what harder grindstone was there for his team.
Hearing Katie's shout, Wood could only nod with revived vigor.
With a smile Wood shouted excitedly, "Yeah, YEAH. That would work. It's not as good as having you on the team, but if we practice against someone as good as you Harry we're at least sure to have a good chance at winning. Maybe some of your skill can rub off on whoever gets the seeker position." He stated with increasing excitement, letting slip his plans for Harry accidentally.
With renewed determination Wood's sharpened eyes focused on Harry. "Potter, I want you to meet me on the pitch with the rest of the team when we have our first practice. The Twins like to hang around you so I'll have them tell you when our practice is. I expect you to be ready and punctual."
Harry smirked and nodded, happy to see the obsessive competitive quidditch captain back in his normal groove. Seeing the four far more energetic and lively than before warmed Harry's heart. The depressing mood certainly didn't suit them.
"I'm going check with Professor McGonagall. It should be fine but we should just make sure. If she gives us the okay I'll ask for a time to reserve the pitch. Make sure you're ready Potter, you got it."
"There will be no need for that."
Wood and the trio of Chasers turned around to see an exasperated Transfiguration Professor looming over them.
The exhausted and frustrated professor had returned and was actively rubbing back a headache from the looks of it. "I wish to remind you all to not scream in the middle of the hallways during lessons. Wood, I expect better from you." she lectured causing Wood to bow his head in shame. His excitement had gotten the better of him.
"I got the jist of what you all are planning." she said with a tired sigh. She looked at Harry and resisted the urge to pinch her brow, though her hands twitched to do so.
"Why is it that no matter what happens there is always something going on around you Mr. Potter? If it's not you directly, it's others acting in response."
The words charismatic and influential dared to leap off his tongue, not that they did.
Harry felt the desire to hold back his laughter. In life, bloody hell always followed him. This in comparison was incredibly tame. "To be fair Professor, I didn't start this."
"Be that as it may, you're still the cause of my current headache." She muttered under her breath. If not for reading her lips Harry wouldn't have known what she said. The rest of the team certainly didn't catch it.
"Yes Wood it should be fine." She said, stopping Wood from asking aloud. "So long as the team agrees, Mr Potter can assist at the Team's Practices. You will need Madam Hooch's permission though." She added before turning to Harry. "Now Mr. Potter, what are you doing out of class? Did you not learn your lesson after skipping my class?" McGonagall asked with a crushing tone.
"Professor Lockhart was teaching us about Cornish Pixies. Letting loose a ton of them into the classroom and instructed us that our lesson was to deal with them. Hermione froze them with a simple spell and we cleaned up the mess. The Professor didn't return so everyone left." Harry explained. "Lockhart did say that the clean up was our class for today." Harry argued seeing the vein pulsing on McGonagall's forehead.
"I swear you will be the death of me." She mumbled. "In that case Potter, follow me. Since you have the time, you can serve your last detention with me now. Follow."
And with that one word she continued past them and didn't look back. Harry waved goodbye to the mutually confused and excited Gryffindor's to follow after the clearly overworked, underpaid, and stressed out Transfiguration mistress.
Wood quickly ran off in order to claim a time for use of the pitch, leaving behind the three girls. Katie stood there seemingly jumping in her shoes. "This is great…" She muttered.
"Yeah, maybe now we can get a silent night's worth of sleep." Alicia said aloud in renewed hope. "With Potter back maybe, finally, you can finally get a hold of yourself."
Katie turned around her cheeks pink with embarrassment. "It's not that bad!" she argued only to get a laugh from Angelina.
"Girl you're practically obsessed. You do know not five minutes ago you were bloody depressed after learning Harry was off the team."
Alicia would have laughed too
"Right? For such a focused and determined girl, you've really got the hots for him don't you." Alicia added.
Sputtering frantically and incoherently Katie flailed pointlessly as her friends laughed at her. Honestly, she couldn't say anything to it. She had been increasingly more bold and desperate in her actions lately. Unable to focus and struggling to deal with her own urges. It really was out of character for her. She knew what was wrong, but the casual broom closet exploits weren't helping her at all. Worse, her dreams had one person in mind and it was starting to bleed into the dorm room. She wasn't a sleep talker by any stretch but recent nights had clearly demonstrated that she had an aptitude for it.
On top of knowing the object of her dreams was no longer on the team, which removed an optimal time to discreetly relieve the stress, Alicia and Angelina were having too much fun teasing her about being impaled into the tiled walls of the changing room.
She really hated this. There was at least one silver lining at least. The skill and ease at which she performed magic had soared substantially. It was almost unnoticeable during the spring, but as summer came and turned to fall it became unmistakable. Magic and even flying seemed to come easier to her now than before. If only she didn't have to change pants every time she practiced either.
Now walking into a spare room, Professor McGonagall moved aside to let Harry step inside. Taking a cursory glance Harry was forced to hold his arm up to his mouth and nose to stifle the rush of dust that assaulted his senses. In the room blankest covered a wide assortment of objects, spare furniture from the looks of it.
"Now then Mr. Potter. You will help clean the dust off the spare vases and jars in this room. Now then get to it." She said sternly.
Harry held in the sigh he wanted to let out. On one hand, this was all pointless, but on the other doing his detention now when technically he was in class was far better development compared to using up his own time that night to do the same work. No matter how odd it was that Professor McGonagall was being so forceful.
So, getting to work and having not been told to not use magic, Harry began levitating the sheets while carefully controlling them so as not to let the foot of dust from assailing the air around him. Sheet by sheet he used the levitation charm to fold each sheet with the grace and creativity that came naturally with origami folding. Each fold pushing the majority of the dust deeper into the sheets so that only a marginal amount would escape.
Having closed the door and getting to work herself, a few minutes passed before his warden finally spoke up.
"I heard you've been helping out Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey, Mr. Potter."
Harry turned too looked at his Professor. She appeared more relaxed now then she had been earlier. In fact, she seemed much more at ease now then should be possible. While the atmosphere she was radiating was very… different from her usual it reminded him of the time she took him to Diagon Alley.
"I'm not sure if I've been really helping. Professor Snape usually ends my extra lessons with having me drag any potions made to Madam Pomfrey, so I guess so." Harry stated.
McGonagall gave a hum of acknowledgement as she went about vanishing some dust and dirt from the cutlery she was cleaning up.
"In that case, please continue to help out as you have been." She stated.
Harry looked over at his instructor. Compared to usual, her behavior was strange. This wasn't the Professor he remembered, neither in class or when they first met. While nothing hinted at her being anyone but Professor McGonagall, there was something very different about her that evening.
While she was being inquisitive of his recent activities, it almost felt like she was doing her utmost to be as distant as possible while relaxing her guard.
"Professor?" Harry asked. McGonagall gave a simple yes of acknowledgement as she carefully moved her wand over each place she finished cleaning turning them each into small white rats with blue streaks on them, similar to the design they had as plates. Harry watched intrigued as each rodent made their way across the room to the open corner near the door.
"Is everything okay?" Harry asked carefully, not wanting to push too hard. "I know I missed class which is why I'm here but you seem… stressed."
"I am a teacher Mr. Potter. The job is stressful in and of itself." she responded quickly and efficiently.
"Except it isn't just you Professor." Harry said. McGonagall stiffened for a moment. "Professor Snape, Madam Pomfrey, the only person who doesn't seem to be stressed out is Hagrid and our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor."
Harry turned to look at her directly, her back still firmly facing him. "I might be a student but maybe it's because I'm a student that I know something is off."
McGonagall ignored him and continued to work. "Continue your task Mr. Potter."
Harry didn't, at least not immediately. Watching his professor, he realized that something was off. Stiffness in the shoulders, an active attempt to avoid facing him, short concise statements… She was distancing herself for interacting with him.
Going back to his task Harry started levitating the jars and urns he was tasked with cleaning. Taking some dust cloths he started cleaning them while conducting his chorus of cleaning with his wand.
"I apologize Mr. Potter." McGonagall finally spoke out, calling Harry's attention.
"Understand it isn't a problem or task that a student needs to know about. All I will say is that not everyone has taken to the new rules as easily as others have. So if you can, please avoid getting into any trouble this year if you can. Especially anything that would end you up in the hospital wing."
Harry nodded as he got distracted by several of his urns, nice and clean now, sprouting wings and flapping themselves over to the corner with the former plates.
"Uh, yeah. Sure thing Professor." Harry finally muttered out. Was she worried about Madam Pomfry's workload or his own wellbeing? Both perhaps, Harry wondered. Or maybe… there was a reason beyond that involving him being confined to the hospital wing...
Harry could have sworn he saw a small smile grace the corner of her face but couldn't see it clearly with her face turned as she continued to work, turning several forks into lizards. Harry smirked at the amusing scene of lizards, previously forks, crawling over to the rest of the finished work.
Time passed quietly between them, Harry dusting off the urns he was tasked with, while McGonagall handled the finished work. The comforting silence was very different from his earlier detentions with the Professor. Those had been quiet, empty and very depressing. This one was now lighter, and more… rhythmic. It was comforting, its silence and the subtle clattering of cutlery soothing.
With his task finished Harry levitated the final five pots over to the corner.
"Excellent job Mr. Potter. I'll handle the rest. Make sure you show up to my class, understood. Tardiness will not be tolerated."
"Yes Professor." Harry replied.
Satisfied McGonagall waved him off. "Off you go then."
Just as he was about to leave she called out to him. "One more thing Mr. Potter." She said. "Do you know anything about what's keeping the rest of your house from showing up for their morning lessons?"
Yeah… Harry was wondering when someone would ask him. He was after all one of the few who wasn't confined to their bed in the early mornings. Just another reminder for him that his precautions were a little too potent.
Harry quickly shook his head. "No ma'am." He lied. "Although I have a feeling it's a prank that's gotten out of hand Professor."
"What makes you think that Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked, her eyes narrowing.
"Just a feeling Professor."
She stared at him for a long while. Long enough that any other student would be sweating in his shoes. However Harry remained steadfast and quiet, long enough that finally McGonagall relented and nodded, "Very well. Off you go."
Leaving Harry made his way to get some lunch, his early noon free time all but used up. Starved Harry hastened to get some much-deserved eats.
The Great Hall was surprisingly full that afternoon. The sunny high noon sun shined and illuminated the hall with its radiance. A bit too much for Harry who spent a good chunk of time in a dusty dark room.
"Potter!" A cry called out from afar. Hailed by Daphne Greengrass herself Harry smiled and walked towards her. Who was he to ignore the call of a lady after all. After all it wasn't like he didn't have his own motives for wanting to speak with her. With a smirk, he greeted Daphne with a flaunting wave of his arm.
"Lady Greengrass, to what can I help you with." She said.
"Cut the theatrics Potter and sit down." She demanded, even as Tracey sighed in amusement at her friend's attitude.
Harry did as she requested, more out of boredom than compliance. Since Ginny, Hermione, nor the Twins were present in the hall and he had his own reasons to speak with her he simply did as she demanded. A curtain of amusement hidden behind his straight face all the while.
"Alright, what can I help you with Daphne?" Harry asked.
"Don't give me that." She said. Glancing to see if anyone was eavesdropping she leaned in whispered, "You're responsible for it, aren't you? The fact that the whole house is stuck asleep in the mornings for the past week."
Harry raised an eyebrow. A cursory trace of her emotions showed an almost concrete assurance that he was responsible. And while he was responsible, aside from simply guessing, he couldn't tell what was giving her such a strong feeling of certainty that he was behind it? At least not without reading her mind. It was amusing to say the least and so Harry smirked as he replied.
"What if I am?"
Daphne leaned in closer. "How?" she asked softer and with far greater curiosity than before.
"What?" Harry asked. She leaned in closer.
"What did you do? It's already been a week, and none of the Slytherin's boys have tried even once to break into my room or my sister's. It's abnormal. What did you do? Not only are you the only male not sleeping in constantly, but there also isn't anyone else who could pull something like this off. Maybe those twins could but I highly doubt they wouldn't target the whole house. Aside from me, trace, and my sister, you're the only other student who isn't practically tied to their bed in the mornings."
Harry wanted to plant his face on the table. Yeah, that made sense. Plopping a hand into his jacket he pulled out a small vial with an oozing blue liquid that bubbled menacingly. Every time a bubble popped on the blue surface of the liquid, its color would change to purple before it melded back into its standard blue.
"I did say I would help your sister." Harry whispered back, waving the vial subtly to her, well out of sight from any prying eyes. "Protective Wards, in my opinion, are supposed to be a final resort. If they're broken, then you have nothing left in your defense except yourself." Harry said, putting the vial back into the shadow of his cloak.
"What did you do?"
"Just think of it as a potent slumbering potion. It triggers itself in the presence of the moonlight, It pretty much forces anyone into slumber until the moon disappears." Harry explained. "I said I would help protect your sister and sure I did as you requested, but I'm not going to do a job and half-ass it. So Daphne, heir to the Greengrass family, do you have an issue with my work?"
Daphne was stunned but showed no sign of it. "No. Actually, I wanted to thank you." She said very softly. "It's just different. It's strange being able to sleep all night and not be awoken in a panic." She admitted thinking back on her first month the previous year and the consecutive months that followed.
"You know Daphne, get any closer to him and people are really going to start thinking you two are going to kiss." Tracey teased.
Daphne's eyes shot back, and her body tore away from him as if he were a hot stove. Harry had to hold in a cough of laughter as he found her reaction very amusing. "Tracey! Shut up." Daphne said through gritted teeth.
"What?" Tracey said with a grin. "It's not every day the famous Ice Queen gets hot and bothered in the presence of her hero. Even you, need some release every now and then." She said with a shit-eating grin.
Daphne's face fell, however, whether in shock, concern, or disgust, Harry couldn't tell, it was clear Daphne was taken aback by her friend's words.
"When did you learn about that?" Daphne asked Tracey with a cold demand. "That?" Harry thought.
"Wow, Daphne, chill. I was only joking." Tracey said backing off, not realizing in her mind the topic was such a landmine. "I was only kidding. I know you and Harry aren't friends." She said, whispering 'yet' underneath her breath knowingly. "He's only helped you out and that's all. Relax." She asked insistently while trying to cower away from her Friends fury.
Said fury however transformed to confusion and then realization. "You don't… nevermind. Just don't joke around like that Trace. It'll get you into trouble." She said.
Harry just raised an eyebrow at the exchange. "What exactly is wrong with what she said?" Harry asked. "She was only joking around."
"You should know better Potter. You're from a Pureblood family." She complained in frustration and Harry swore embarrassment.
"What part of my dead lineage makes you think that?" Harry asked sarcastically.
Tracey and Daphne froze uncomfortably at his remark. "Well… you… surely you were raised by… oh." Daphne managed to stumble out. Far outside her whelm of comfort and stuck between concern and embarrassment, she was now stuck with her mask halfway off her face.
"Listen carefully, Greengrass. Don't go assuming you know how I was raised." Harry warned. "You don't know me, and I don't know you. So let's respect that until we've earned each other's trust to proceed that far." Harry warned.
His cold warning was just what she needed to collect herself and shift her mask back into place.
"Well, my concern is still warranted. Talking about 'that' is publicly frowned upon. In our society, Potter, there are taboos you just don't talk about, and Tracey came close to talking about it." She turned to Tracey who was clearly in the dark, didn't know what she was on about. "Don't joke about that again Trace. It will get you into trouble. Okay."
"Yeah, you got it." Tracey replied, still very confused.
Harry was starting to get a picture of what was wrong. What set Daphne off so violently was that Tracey was infringing on publicly discussing MUK in the great hall. Madam Pomfrey did warn him about the double standards witches and wizards were forced to live with. He wondered exactly when this standard started.
"In any case," Daphne said, returning her focus onto Harry, "about the work you agreed to, since you're here, how about after sixth period you help us out." Daphne said, trying her best not to sound like she was asking for his help. The girl really had an issue with pride.
Harry shrugged with a smile. "After sixth period sounds fine to me." Harry agreed after a very quick moment of thought. Sixth period should be plenty of time for him to eat and grab his materials from his trunk.
"You don't have any detentions to concern yourself with?" Tracey teased causing Harry to roll his eyes and hold in a chuckle.
"Nope, not tonight." Harry joked back as he got up. "I'll go get some stuff ready for it. Knock on my room when you're ready."
"We are not doing it in your room Potter." Daphne argued back.
"Too bad. That's where my stuff is." Harry said, smirking down at her over his turned shoulder. "You want me to help you, then we do it in my room. Make sure she has her first and second-year books Tracey."
"We are not doing it in-" Daphne almost shouted.
"Iye Iye!" Tracey replied over Daphne's outburst much to her friend's disapproval.
At this point, Harry couldn't help but laugh. Grabbing a plate's worth of food Harry made his way out of the Great Hall.
Laugh all the way, Harry levitated a couple of chicken legs and juggled them with his wand as he left the Great Hall. His merry cheer vanished as the sight and sounds of the hall were long behind him and he was left with the strange reaction Daphne revealed.
Thinking back he tried to figure out what might have triggered her to react so violently. Not the topic, she was clearly responding to the innuendos being thrown around. Yet, why did she respond so with such volatility. As he contemplated it he was reminded of what Madam Pomfry told him. How she hinted at the social stigma on the topic.
Back then he thought it was just frowned upon, like speaking a swear word in class, a quick scolding and you're done. This felt more like speaking out publicly after the sinking of the Lusitania.
In thought, Harry made his way to his favorite shortcut to the dormitories where in the corner of his eye he saw Hermione, Hannah Abbot, and a young Ravenclaw girl he didn't recognize walking in toe with Madam Pomfrey. From what it looked like they were heading to the hospital wing.
"I wonder what that's about." He thought. Seeing that Hermione was fine and not hurt in the slightest Harry just shrugged and continued towards his trunk. Later that night, Harry would be delivering potions to the Madam once again from his lessons with Snape and spot a list of students, with these Hermione's and Anna's names freshly marked with a check.
Unlocking his trunk Harry jumped in and made his way towards his workshop, as Ginny had begun to call it. Gathering three spare and unused cauldrons, Harry went about filling them with ingredients he would need to begin his tutoring, knowing full well that no one else seemed to understand that certain ingredients reacted in certain ways with other ingredients.
As his caldrons levitated behind him a shout came down as Ginny descended into his Trunk.
"I'm home!" she cheerfully shouted as she lunged at him, engulfing him in a huge hug. "Welcome back Gin." Harry said carefully to not drop the cauldron floating behind him. "How was class?"
"Guh, Boring. First year is not supposed to be repeated twice." She complained. "We aren't even learning any real spells until next month. McGonagall is lecturing on and on about theory, same with Flitwick. Professor Sprout is having us play with dirt and lectures us on all its properties. And don't get me started with Defense Against the Dark Arts. If I have to hear that blonde gits boasting one more time I'm going to lose it."
Harry watched as she began her rant letting him go only to pace around the room in a blind rage. He knew how she felt though. He'd gone through the same thing. The only difference between them was that he didn't know all the theories behind magic. Alternatively Ginny didn't have the experience he did that let him know some of those theories were false and wrong.
Gamp's Law for example. God did McGonagall drill that one into her students as an example of the limitations of magic. Magic can't produce food out of thin air, no one can. Harry was very tempted to do so right then and there but at the time didn't want to stand out too much so didn't. It would have made for a very interesting class truth be told had he done so.
The problem was Gamp and wizards, in general, had no notion of the relationship between magic and proteins. Food creation magic was basically blood magic. The reason it always failed was because witches and wizards tried to create food using no blueprint which resulted in the magic trying to construct the 'food' from their own person as a blueprint. The equivalence of trying to build a buffet with already digested food. That was probably why Gamp used the term 'good food' in his theory now that he thought about it.
Still he learned several important lessons from those classes. Ginny, however, must have been bored out of her mind.
"I don't think jinxing Lockhart is a good idea." Harry said.
"Well if you don't knock him out, I probably will." Ginny yelled, turning toward him and spotting the cauldrons. "Hey, what are you doing with those?"
"I'm tutoring some classmates. Daphne and Tracey, you know them right? I made a deal with them and teaching them potions was my half of the deal." Harry explained.
"Tch."
Harry looked at Ginny with a raised eyebrow. "Okay, why did you click your tongue at that?"
Her eyes wide at being heard tried to play the innocent act as she sang, "Oh, no reason." To which Harry didn't buy.
"Ginny, be honest." Harry said knowing he was hitting the one button guaranteed to make her feel guilty and spill.
Ginny let out a sigh. "Fine, I'm bored and a bit jealous." She said cupping her chest.
"Never imagined you'd be concerned about your breast size in your forties" Harry chuckled more to himself than to her. Ginny grabbed one of his pillows and chucked it at him. "And what's wrong with that! Besides, I'm eleven, not forty!" Ginny protested to which Harry laughed.
"What's so funny!?"
"Sorry, it's just that I feel like this has happened before."
Ginny calmed down and after a second started to join Harry in his laughter. "It has," she admitted between fits of laughter.
"Back when you became Head Auror, you were partnered up with a female trainee." Ginny reminisced. "As you put it she was a muggleborn with a lot of potential. When I saw her with you all I did was get jealous because of how big her tits were. They were the size of watermelons. I jinxed her right then and there and you, being the caring man I loved, looked after her and cared more for her well being then my blind jealousy."
Harry remained silent, morbidly so. "I don't remember. Ginny…" He began but Ginny silenced him with a figure.
"It's fine." She reassured him. "I was just being a jealous git. Envious and suspicious of a girl who I viewed as being more attractive than myself. Jealous of a younger girl who was close to a man I loved. A man I didn't believe loved me."
Silence held as she bit her lip, forcing herself to say the final bit. "A man I potioned into loving me." She finished with no shortage of hate and guilt directed at herself.
Harry levitated the cauldrons down and reached out for Ginny. Taking her by surprise he pulled her to his bed and sitting down he pulled her into his lap and hugged her. This simple act was all it took for Ginny to break down crying. "I'm sorry. I know I apologized… argued … I thought I would be over this by now."
She hiccupped as tears streamed down her face. "It feels unreal. Like its all a dream. That I'll wake up and realize I haven't been given a second chance. That my mistake will live with me forever."
"It's fine. You know I love you. No matter what happens Ginny a piece of you will always be stuck in me." Harry reassured her, petting her fiery hair with his left hand. His right rubbing her back as he calmed her down. "I mastered all manner of magic Ginny, studied untold textbooks and medical practices, looking for the secret to kill an immortal. I created an unheard of ritual, used up untold amounts of magic, erased a thousand years of life, just to die… to reunite with the people I loved… with you." Harry whispered.
"I won't tell you to not get jealous, it's a knee jerk reaction for you, but never doubt that I live for you." Harry finished.
"And Hermione." Ginny said teasingly, knowing full well how important she was to him.
"Both of you. I destroyed time and space to be with the both of you." Harry said before giving a slight pause as he rethought about what he said. "Mostly destroyed time and space…" he said, re-correcting himself seeing as he didn't quite succeed in removing all of his existence from the world leaving a small fragment of time and space in which he reincarnated or reconstructed himself in.
"Didn't you say you failed that ritual?" Ginny asked now with a smile, rubbing her tears out of her eyes.
"Seeing as I'm holding you in my arms, I can't say that I did." Harry replied with a satisfied grin. "Besides." Harry added, "Daphne-Bigger-Breast-Greengrass isn't the one picking up my sleeping habits." Harry teased, causing Ginny to laugh.
"What, you don't like waking up to a naked girl in your bed?"
"Personally I prefer more mature women, but apparently I've been sleeping with an eleven-year-old." He jokingly teased.
Ginny smacked his arm. "That's unfair." She pouted, "Women don't like talking about their ages let alone saying they're older than they look."
Harry smiled as he held her. "So~?"
Ginny huffed and looked up at him. "Fine~! I'm forty-something and in love with you. Now. Your turn."
Harry smirked. "Alright. I love waking up in the morning to you sleeping next to me." Harry pulled her in closer nestling her head under his chin. "Even if you are picking up my sleeping habits."
"Why do you sleep in the buff?" Ginny asked curiously.
"Try working in a swamp for nine years. Magic might be able to protect you from pathogens and wood rot but god forbid there be a spell against chafing."
"Gross." Ginny chuckled with amusement.
"Yeah well, Military gear isn't exactly the most breathable material around." Harry murmured.
Ginny considered that for a while and understood. Of course, she wasn't going to complain. Even only twelve years old physically, Harry's body was jacked. A fact that did nothing to tame her inner demons.
Ginny sat there in his lap enjoying the presence and warmth of his company, loving how his arms encircled her and his fingers streamed through her hair. All the problems and struggles they endured and would endure meant nothing when he cared for her like this. She felt safe. The fear of reliving the nightmare of the Chamber was manageable, she knew her enemy, she knew the culprit, and she knew Harry would support her. If only time could stop for this moment. But nothing lasted forever and so she waited and enjoyed his ministrations until the time came where it would end.
"Feeling better?" Harry asked.
Ginny nodded into his chest, pulling herself out of his hold and hopping off his lap. "Much."
"So you aren't jealous now?" Harry asked.
"Oh I am." Ginny replied with a smile cupping her imaginary breasts. "I'm very jealous that she's easier on your eyes than I am, but that's fine. I have a loving future husband who even after a thousand years never stopped loving me and went through the trouble of creating a potentially forbidden magic to be with me."
"Then how about you help me get my stuff together." Harry said seriously.
"You're no fun." Ginny replied but pulled out her wand and started levitating his cauldrons to him.
"And you're a showoff." Harry jokingly pointed out the fact she was just as good at the levitation spell as he was.
Ginny just smirked as she kept the black cauldrons levitated. Harry likewise went back to filling them up with ingredients that he could easily spare for a lesson. Harry daydreamed as he worked. Ginny gathering materials reminded him of an old memory. He was missing some papers, a folder, for some kind of case he was working on. What, Harry couldn't remember. But he remembered Ginny. She was dressed in her quidditch uniform. She was stressed, having only minutes before she had to leave.
She was yelling at him for waiting till the last second not that he was paying attention. The boring chaos of a normal busy morning. Harry didn't realize how much he both missed and was glad such monotony was gone in his life.
"So where are you going to tutor them?" Ginny asked.
"In my room." Harry answered ignoring Ginny as her mouth dropped to the floor like he was an idiot. "I need to be near my trunk in case I need anything plus having them here means I can ask questions without risking public ears hearing in."
Ginny crossed her arms with a frown of annoyance. "And how am I supposed to sneak past them without being spotted? It's only going to cause us both trouble if they spot me here."
Harry smirked as he held up his cloak that had been resting on the backrest of his desk chair. Ginny just blinked and then muttered, "Oh."
Harry chuckled as he climbed out of his home away from home. Once fully out of his trunk he levitated the three cauldrons filled with ingredients along with a spare sheet, using it to spread the ingredients out on his unused Slytherin bed.
And then the three knocks on his door. Harry walked over and opened it a sliver. There Daphne and Tracey stood, one far more eager than the other. Tracey waved at Harry with a grin. "Ready to get this show started?" she asked through a toothy grin.
"That depends on if you're ready to abandon everything you know." Harry honestly replied with an air of humor.
"Come off it Potter." Daphne huffed. "You're here to help us, not act like a Professor or all-knowing Master."
"Last I checked, I was the only first-year who help a seventh-year ace her finals." Harry boasted.
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Whatever. So great master," she mockingly said, "What potion are you willing to help us with? Boils? Forgetfulness? Maybe Sleeping Draught."
Tracey was smirking all the while at Daphne's mocking. This was the Daphne she knew, behind her mask. Despite her pride, she was actually opening up to someone other than herself. She even seemed to be having fun underneath her mockery.
"We'll start with what you do know." Harry said professionally with a cold focus in his heavy tone. "I laid out a collection of ingredients that are commonly used for potion making." Harry said gesturing to the seemingly random array of ingredients. "To start I want you to show me how much you know by arranging these ingredients into three columns, passive, neutralizing, and reactive."
Tracey looked uncertain, and Daphne was no better. "What do you mean sort them? What does that have to do with potion making?" she demanded, being surprisingly more vocal than Tracey.
"Making a potion can result in highly explosive results if a mistake is made. One of the tips I gave, Auror Tonks when I was helping her was to show her how to mitigate the stress of making a potion. When stressed you're more likely to make a mistake. Knowing what ingredients can cause a violent reaction and which ingredients don't, can help you focus on specific parts of a potion without overexerting yourself needlessly. Similarly, knowing what ingredients are neutralizing agents can help save you self-harm if you react to a mistake quickly enough." Harry explained.
His hand waved theatrically towards his bed. "Thus, your first task is to show me what you know. It's easy to follow directions, it's another to do it effectively."
Harry smirked as he watched Daphne sigh but all the same start trying to sort out the ingredients. Tracey, who looked to be a lousy poker player also got to work. Harry smirked as already he spotted two problems which were exactly what he was after.
Having seen his fellow classmates last year working, Harry already knew the two didn't have a clue what ingredients were what. What he wanted to know was how the two friends would go about making the potion. Already the two jumped right in without any plan and worse after starting the both worked independently. No communication and no discussing what they were doing.
Snape might have been a master potion maker, but the man clear never worked as a group member in his life. The more complex a potion, the greater importance of communication and planning was involved in the team effort. Now that he thought about it, it was no wonder the quality and quantity of potion graduates was down in Hogwarts. The curriculum didn't teach them how to work as groups in a highly volatile environment.
Harry continued to monitor the two as they went about at guessing what ingredient should be classified as what. Harry knew this was going to be a long lesson but found a sense of enjoyment at spreading what he knew. In truth, the longer he held out, letting them try to figure it out, the more his anticipation grew. He was almost struggling to contain his excitement as the thought of teaching them and spreading his magical knowledge grew, fermenting like a fine wine in the recesses of his mind.
Eventually, the two finished with Tracey looking confident. Harry held back his laughter at her face. Having watched carefully he knew that most of their guesswork was educational at best. First-year potions tended to be both easier to make and used less reactive ingredients. So figuring out what ingredients were passive from that was mostly a rational guess. Problem was even with guesswork they got most of them wrong. If Harry had to grade it he'd have to sadly give them a Dreadful. After all, they only got a fifth correct.
"So? How did we do?" Tracey asked with high expectations.
Harry shook his head and pointed his wand at their work. Much to their disappointment four-fifths rose and rearranged themselves into their proper placement.
"Not bad for not knowing what you were doing, but there was a bigger problem." Harry said calmly. "When making a potion or preparing to make one, there are two things you need more than anything when tackling a new task."
Raising a finger for each he stated, "First is communication. Neither of you talked about what you thought was correct. The second is the fact you just jumped into the task. When making a potion, especially for the first time you need to review your plan. Jumping straight in gets people hurt and makes mistakes more likely to happen."
"But we're not making a potion. Sure we didn't talk to each other, but what planning would we even do? We were just sorting ingredients." Tracey argued after having her bubble burst.
"Even if the task didn't ask for it, I was watching for any show of habits or intent to plan or communicate with each other. Knowing the dungeon bat, he doesn't encourage either of these but my personal experience has shown major improvements and greater success when as a team you make a plan and communicate."
"So what? This was your idea of some kind of test?" Daphne asked.
"Like I said, I wanted to know what you did know." Harry explained while rubbing his head.
"If you don't believe I can teach you then by all means, walk out." Harry said, opening the door to the hallway. "If not, then let's get started with a quick lecture on what ingredients are reactive and non-reactive, then have you make a potion with the knowledge of both and with the instructions in front of you."
Seeing neither of them making to leave. Harry smiled and closed the door, as unnoticed to either of them Ginny escaped under his cloak.
For the following hour Harry guided them and taught them what ingredients are reactive and unreactive. After each one, he explained how each one had special exceptions that he'd go over at a later date before picking out the ingredients for a simple cure boils potions. He then had them memorize and organize the ingredients based on reactivity and order of implementation.
Daphne had to admit, at first she was skeptical but as she and Tracey worked on the potion she was amazed at the ease at which they completed the potion. Compared to before it was significantly easier and far less stressful.
Harry was right. Planning out and setting up the ingredients made making the potion far easier and simpler to complete. Knowing the reactive component also made them careful when applying said ingredient. He was also right about the whole communication speal too. By actually talking and telling the other what they were doing and going to do, as well as what they weren't doing, they were more easily able to catch each other's mistakes and mishaps.
Daphne had to admit, Harry Potter definitely knew what he was talking about and they weren't even doing anything remotely related to potions. Sure they made a potion but all he was really teaching them was how to go into potion making.
After the lesson time was over, Daphne had to admit that while she didn't learn anything about potions per say, she now felt like she had a better understanding about making potions then she did before.
Tracey was so over the moon at her own success at not screwing up or making a major mistake she jumped the gun and asked Harry when they could have another lesson. While Daphne felt she was a bit too forward in her asking, she appreciated Tracey's forthcomingness as they were now both looking forward to tomorrow evening when Harry promised to go over how certain ingredients could be replaced by other ingredients and how that was possible.
As they returned to their own room Tracey lunged at her bed and jumped on it with joy, her back bouncing up and down on the springy surface. "That was amazing, I never felt so at ease making a potion. Why can't Professor Snape teach us stuff like that?"
Daphne shrugged to herself, stripping her sweaty clothes so she could take a shower. Unfurling her cloak, she wiggled out of her skirt as her fingers grasped the cusp of its folds. "Don't ask me Trace." She muttered but she had to agree. It was kind of sad that compared to Harry, Professor Snape didn't really compare as a teacher. While Snape's was more hands-on and less lecture heavy than Harry's, it could be argued that Harry's was more practical than Snape's methods.
Pulling her blazer over her head Daphne chucked it onto her desk chair and pulled out a violet-blue sleeping gown. While the silk flowed gracefully over her form she reached over and opened up the notes she had written down while working on potions.
Slowly she became less and less aware of her surroundings, lost in thought as she reviewed everything she had been taught by Harry.
She had to admit, she was skeptical going in, but now she had to admit he knew what he was talking about. He told them what he knew and then followed it up with practical evidence. Moreover, their simple lesson on communication had resulted in them making a flawless potion.
It left her wondering, what would happen if everyone did the same thing as he did. What would happen if everyone made potions in the same organized and prepared fashion. And more importantly, she had to wonder, how Harry Potter who was a loner in first year learned all of that? Where or from whom did he learn potion making from?
As sleep slowly snuck up upon her, she felt at ease and confidence in herself for the first time in a while. She felt like she could finally accomplish anything with the proper knowledge to move ahead.
Mumbling into her desk, Daphne fell asleep as the words left her mouth, "Just who are you…?"
As sleep overtook her, she was unaware of its presence. Daphne looked around herself in much confusion. She was no longer in her room, surrounded in a pitch-black void all she could see was a single wooden door and the repetitive tone of a tuning fork ringing.
One… two… three… four… dong~
Five seconds she thought. The ringing sound of a low key tuning fork echoed out.
She began to walk to the door, drawn in by its presence. It was an ordinary black door… no, that wasn't it. It wasn't a door. A book? It opened up and she saw a stone hallway. Daphne tried to figure out where she was, turning her head every which way in confusion.
"This… isn't this the transfiguration hallway on the first floor?" she asked herself. How did she get here?
The hall was empty, void of life, not even a hint of life anyway. It was creepy, unsettling. She walked slowly, step by step down the hallway. It was eerie how her footsteps echoed in the empty corridors. Except she wasn't alone. Her footsteps were not alone. There was someone else nearby, walking. Daphne sped up, following the source.
She chased after the sound of footsteps. Rushing down the hall she climbed to the second floor, the footsteps growing louder, but also sounding muffled, smothered.
Then she saw it. A black robe and messy black hair.
"Wait, is that… Potter?" Daphne asked. The cloaked figure turned the corner and she chased after him.
Reaching the corner she turned again only to see the boy was still walking yet was somehow already turning the next corner. She ran faster, chasing after him. Rounding the next corner there too he was already around the next corner, and the next, and the next.
They had just passed the second-floor bathrooms when Daphne was becoming annoyed.
"Damnit Potter stop moving!" she demanded, but nothing came out of her. No sound, not voice. She tried to stop but found she couldn't stop running. She rounded the corner.
Blood. There was blood splatter along the wall. Daphne was starting to freak out, her composure crumbling.
She rounded another corner, except it was the same corner she had just come from. There was a cat, no, a black shadow of a cat.
She rounded the corner again. A body this time. A black shadowy outline of a person, a child.
She rounded the corner again. Another body. A boy?
Again, another body.
Again, another body this time with a white body that just floated over the outline.
Daphne was freaking out now. She couldn't control her body, she couldn't scream and the shadowy bodies everywhere were starting to grate upon her sanity. She wanted to stop, she wanted to cry for help, but her body kept moving.
She turned the corner. Again it was the same corner, but there wasn't a body. No new shadow or white form.
Blood.
There was blood. All over the floor. She was no longer running, she couldn't.
Drip.
The sound of some liquid falling to the ground resonated down the hall.
Drip.
It came from behind her.
Drip.
She started to turn around. She didn't want to. Something told her to not turn around.
"Daphne!"
Her eyes shot open, staring directly into Tracey's. She was sweating, her clammy skin sticking to her nightie and Tracey's firm grasp on her shoulders.
"Daphne, are you alright? You were freaking out in your sleep." Tracey asked, relief reflected on her face upon seeing Daphne silent nod.
"What happened?"
Daphne didn't know what to say. A bad dream? It felt real, surreal for sure, but real all the same.
"A bad dream… I think. I'm fine Tracey." Daphne reassured her.
"You sure?" Tracey asked, still concerned.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Daphne said. Tracey while still concerned went back to her bed but didn't completely take her eyes off Daphne.
Daphne ignored her stare and closed her still open notes, wondering when she fell asleep. She put them away and went and got in bed herself. Her eyes drifting over to the window showed that it was now well past dark. Somehow she had nearly slept the whole evening away.
But still, she had to wonder, what was that dream.
As sleep threatened to take her again, she wondered what she had seen near the end. Before she woke up, she saw something, she couldn't recall what it was, but she felt it was important.