Harry didn't get the chance to talk to his friends or Sirius until late the following evening. To say that they had been shocked was an understatement. Harry had not held anything back. He'd told them about the vision he'd had, about how what he'd seen at the World Cup had only left him feeling more disconcerted. He'd told them about talking to Professors Jackson and Dumbledore, and finally he told them of what Professor Jackson had told Harry, and that he would be teaching Harry to defend himself.
To say his friends had been shocked, would have been an understatement. But they handled it about as well as he'd expected them to. Ron had, as Harry had guessed, been as supportive of Harry as possible, while chastising him about not telling them about the dream he'd had. He seemed somewhat jealous that Harry would be receiving extra lessons from Professor Jackson, but he backed off when Hermione reminded him that the darkest wizard of all time wasn't after Ron's blood.
Hermione had, predictably, been rather shaken. She seemed a little calmer that Professors Jackson and Dumbledore were at least taking things seriously, but she had been far from pleased that Harry had accepted to be essentially bait, to draw Voldemort out into the open. Harry had tried to explain his rationale to her, but she had not exactly been swayed. Still, she had not tried to talk Harry out of his decision, so that was at least progress.
Sirius' reaction had been…a bit of a mixed bag. He'd been worried, that was to be sure. It was clear that the last thing he wanted was for Harry to be putting himself in harms way, but Sirius explained that he could clearly see the writing on the wall. Between the vision, Harry's scar, and the attack at the World Cup, the signs were certainly there that something was going to be happening and soon. He told Harry that he was proud of his drive to fight, to grow. He told Harry that it was something his parents would have done, and Harry had never been so proud in his life.
His first week back at Hogwarts had been, otherwise, uneventful. As Thursday rolled around, there was a buzz of excitement at the breakfast table. It was their first day of Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Moody. All week, Harry had been hearing nothing but good things about the class. Everyone seemed to be utterly enamored with the ex-auror. All except Susan Bones however. Harry's table-mate in Ancient Runes had told him in a very shaky voice, that it had been one of the most terrifying lessons she'd ever had.
As it turned out, Susan had been far more reliable than any of the other students. Professor Moody's class had been unlike anything else Harry had ever experienced. Apparently, Dumbledore was taking the rising threat of Voldemort far more seriously than Harry had anticipated, as he instructed Professor Moody to show Harry's entire class the three unforgivable curses. They were curses that were deemed so inhumane, that the Ministry had no other choice but to make them illegal. The first, was the Imperius Curse, a curse that left a person completely devoid of their own free will, and subject to the will of the caster. Second, had been the Cruciatus Curse, a spell that was only meant to torture. A curse, who's only purpose was to cause the pain and suffering of someone else. Finally, there was the killing curse. A curse, with no known counter-curse. A curse, that instantly killed whoever it was cast upon, with a blast of jet-green light. The same jet of green light, that Harry had seen Voldemort use on the Muggle in his vision. The same jet he had seen for years, as it was cast on his own mother, in Harry's dreams.
But Moody had not been satisfied with simply describing the curses to the class. He had insisted on demonstrating them to the class. Harry wasn't sure which had been worse, watching the spider Moody had been using contort and scream in agony under the Cruciatus Curse, or the undignified way it had just dropped dead to the ground. It had been a…haunting experience. One shared by the majority of his classmates, poor Neville hadn't stopped shaking since they'd left the classroom.
"That was…" Ron shuddered, as they climbed the stairs to the fourth floor for History of Magic,
"That was awful," Hermione shuddered, shrinking in on herself, "The way that it just…stopped moving…and the sounds it was making…"
"I think that was the point," Harry said, "You heard him at the beginning of the lesson, he doesn't think actually listening about the curses is going to teach us anything."
"Do you think he was being serious?" Hermione asked worriedly, "About putting us under the Imperius curse?"
"You think that man knows how to joke?" Ron asked incredulously as the came to the fourth floor landing, "They call him Mad-Eye for a reason you know."
"But-but surely Professor Dumbledore wouldn't-"
"Hermione," Harry said, "I promise you he would."
Hermione wisely didn't say anything to that. Not that she could have anyways.
They turned the hall towards the History of Magic classroom, just in time to watch as Draco Malfoy roughly shove a couple of second-years out of the way as he marched into the classroom, an ugly expression on his face.
"Looks like someone's having a bad day," Harry muttered, and Ron snorted.
"Think it has to do with that Prophet article?" He asked,
"Has to be," Hermione said thoughtfully, "He's been far more taciturn that usual."
"Didn't even bother us on the train," Harry observed, "First time for that."
"Not counting second-year of course," Hermione said smugly,
"Are you never going to let us forget that?" Ron grumbled as they walked into the classroom, and took their usual seats at the front of the classroom, "I still have nightmares about that bloody howler."
"Serves you right," Hermione said, and Harry and Ron just shared an exasperated look. It wasn't worth arguing her when she got like this.
"Afternoon everyone!" Professor Jackson called cheerily as he strode from his personal office.
There was a muted response and Professor Jackson stopped halfway up to his desk, a stack of papers in his hands.
"Geez, you guys a chipper today." He said as he walked to his desk and placed his stack of papers down. Turning around he propped himself up against the edge of the desk. "All right, what's up?"
Harry and Hermione shared a glance, before Tracy Davis spoke up from behind them,
"Sorry Professor, we just had our first Defense lesson and…" She trailed off and shuddered violently.
Professor Jackson just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something in a language that Harry didn't understand.
"I should have guessed," Professor Jackson said, "How bad was it?"
Nobody seemed willing to answer, and Professor Jackson looked over and caught Harry's eye. Knowing he was expected to answer, Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"He, um, he showed us the unforgivable curses sir," Harry said, and Professor Jackson's expression fell somewhat.
"Ah," He was all he said in response, and scratched at a spot behind his ear in thought for a few moments, "Screw it," he muttered as he pushed off from the desk, "Well, I was going to take today to introduce our project for the semester, we'll be doing a simulation of the ICW for the year, but I think this takes precedence." Striding behind his desk, he flipped over the blackboard and lightly tapped it with a hand. In his usual sprawling writing, the names of the unforgivable curses appeared on the blackboard.
"Now I'm guessing that Moody didn't actually tell you much about the curses aside from what they do and how they work, right?" There were some scattered nods, "I figured as much. Now I'm guessing that most of you are probably wondering why he showed you those curses, and why he'll be performing the Imperius Curse on you starting with your newt lesson." He didn't wait for a reply, "It's because it's important for you to understand exactly what these curses are, and why they're considered unforgivable. Why…they represent the worst that magic can do." Professor Jackson began his trademark pacing around the room, walking through the rows of tables.
"Before we begin, Mister Potter," Harry jumped at being called on so suddenly, "Care to explain to the class what I mean when I say that all magic is based on intent?"
Harry remembered the lecture that Professor Jackson had given him outside an ice cream store the summer before his third year, and he nodded.
"All magic is based on the intent of the wielder." Harry explained, "For every spell we cast, the magic only works if we intend to cause a certain result. If we try and cast a spell, but aren't intending to cause the result, then nothing will happen."
"Excellent job Mister Potter, take five points to Gryffindor." Professor Jackson nodded, "That's exactly right. Now, why is that important? Because it comes down to a couple of misconceptions about magic, and specifically about the killing curse. I don't know when this trend started, but sometime in the last seventy years or so, there has been this…line, between what people have called 'light' and 'dark' magic. It's a bunch of nonsense." Professor Jackson said with a roll of his eyes.
"Magic is magic. It can be sentient, to an extent, but it is nearly good nor bad. Magic just is. It is up to the wielder of the wand and the caster of the spell, to determine if the magic is used for good. Now, I mentioned misconceptions, and there's a big one with respect to the unforgivables. Specifically, with respect to the Imperius and the Killing Curse. There's been this idea…cultivated no doubt by the blood purists in the last war, that to cast these spells, means that you have to have evil in your heart. That you have to be…dark…whatever the heck that's supposed to mean," He said with a shrug and another exaggerated eye-roll.
"It's a bunch of hogwash though. You don't have to be an evil bastard to want to control someone. You don't have to be evil to want to kill someone. You just have to intend that particular outcome to make it happen. When you cast the killing curse, you don't have to be filled with rage, or hate, or have any sort of maniacal plan for world domination, you just want to have the other guy drop dead."
"Then sir," Pavarti Patil said, her hand in the air, "Why are they called the unforgivable curses? Why are they illegal if you don't…if anyone can do them?"
"A very good question," Professor Jackson nodded,
"Let's start with the Imperius and Killing Curses. Does anyone know when or why these curses were created?" He asked, and no one raised their hands. Professor Jackson just chuckled, "I guess I should have expected as much, don't really cover the history of curses in most modern texts. And don't worry about taking notes Miss Granger, I assure that this is all for your own personal use and knowledge, nothing we talk about today will be on a quiz or test."
Hermione went a little pink in the face, and slowly stowed away her quill and ink. Harry and Ron fought to control their snickers, and Hermione just kicked him in the shin.
"The Imperius Curse dates back centuries, to, oddly enough, the British Isles." Professor Jackson lectured, "Shortly before the Roman's invaded the isles, the Caledonians, one of the original tribal peoples on the island, had a groups of mystics. These mystics, like any other member of the tribes, were traditionally fairly nomadic and agrarian. For anyone who has ever taken a Care of Magical Creatures lesson, I'm sure you can relate to how difficult animals can be to control."
Seamus Finnegan snorted and muttered something under his breath,
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that Mister Finnegan, and I won't tell Hagrid," Professor Jackson said and the class broke out into giggles as Seamus went a little red in the face.
"Well, the mystics of the Caledones tribes were getting a little tired of constantly chasing around live-stock, so they created a simple enchantment to put them under control. Up until the Roman invasion, this simple little enchantment was used, to the best of our knowledge, almost exclusively in this manner. It wasn't until the Roman invasion that the enchantment was first used in the manner we recognize today. While it was ultimately futile, and the Legions of Rome swept across the Isles, the effects of the curse did play a devastating role on the effects of the centralized leadership of the invading forces."
Professor Jackson stopped, and looked around the class, "You'll be noticing a theme in a minute." He said with a bitter chuckle.
"The Killing Curse was developed a few centuries later, during the Middle Ages and after the fall of Rome. Most experts can't seem to agree on when or where the actual curse was developed specifically, but most propose that it was somewhere in, what is now central Europe, somewhere in the fourteenth century. Now, can anyone guess what the killing curse's original purpose was for?" He looked around the room again, and laughed when no one raised their hand.
"Well, what if I were to tell you that it is widely believed that one of Nobles in central Europe, had gotten hold of a court magician, and commissioned them to create a curse that would be able to kill a creature whole, without damaging the body. Can someone give me a guess as to why someone would want to create such a curse?"
"War?" Dean Thomas asked,
"A good guess," Professor Jackson said, "But nope. Anyone else?"
The room just shifted around uncomfortably, and nobody spoke up or raised a hand.
"Ok," Professor Jackson laughed, "And what if I were to tell you that there was a famine in 1315. Anyone have any guesses now?" He asked, as he prowled among the desks, "Come on guys, why would a European nobleman, commission a wizard to create a spell, during a famine, that killed a creature whole, but left the body in one piece?"
"Because it would mean there's more meat to be eaten." Daphne muttered, more to herself than to Professor Jackson, but he heard her all the same, and whirled around, smiling brilliantly at her.
"A little louder Daphne?" He said, cupping one ear playfully, "Couldn't quite hear you."
"You said it was in the middle of a famine, right sir?" She asked, and Professor Jackson nodded enthusiastically, "Well then, if the local farmers and peasantry wasn't able to grow crops or something, then they would want to make sure than any livestock that they did have, they could use as much of the animal as possible. Butchering it in traditional methods likely too much of the meat away that could be used."
"Exactly right!" Professor Jackson clapped excitedly, "The folks back in the day weren't all that picky about what kind of meat they were eating. If it was edible, they'd eat it." He began his pacing again, "It wasn't until the Peasant Revolt in France in 1313 that we have a recorded use of the spell for any other purpose besides the cultivation of livestock."
He paused towards the back of the room, and snatched a magazine out from behind Crabbe's book that he was pretending to read,
"So, once again, we have a spell that was designed specifically for agrarian purposes." He continued, as the magazine burst into flames in the palm of his hand, "That was turned into a weapon of war."
"You're not about to try and tell us that the cruciatus curse was like, some medieval way of teaching pigs how to dance or something, are you Professor?" Lavender Brown asked squeakily. There was some scattered, nervous laughter at the pronouncement, and Professor Jackson chuckled quietly to himself.
"No," He said sadly, shaking his head meaningfully, "No, that one was made for pretty much exactly what you think it was." He made his way back up to his desk, and perched himself on the front, crossing his arms. "Made, again, in the Middle Ages. Developed specifically by the Christian kingdoms on the Iberian Peninsula to help interrogate Muslim spies during the Reconquista of Spain and Portugal. There was no other purpose for it, than for violence and pain.
Professor Jackson crossed his arms, "Does anyone understand why I told you all of this, seemingly useless information? I know I told you at the beginning that it was to try and take some of the fear away, so I don't want to get any smart aleck remarks. Looking at you Finnegan." The class sniggered and Seamus' ear went a little red.
"Just a little teasing Seamus, I don't mean anything by it," Professor Jackson laughed, "But seriously, anyone know why I told you all of that?" Nobody answered, so Professor Jackson rose and began his pacing again,
"A while ago, Miss Patil asked why these curses were called unforgivable, why they were illegal, when supposedly anyone could do them. I'm sure most of you are even more confused now that I've told you the…complicated history of two of the curses." There were some mumbling of agreement from the students. "Well, it goes back to what I was saying earlier. Intent. And how magic as a force…is corrupting." Professor Jackson sighed, and propped himself up against a far wall.
"Magic, like any power, corrupts. It warps, and twists, and causes a person to lose perspective. More than one has been lost, thinking that because they were gifted with some minuscule amount of power, that it made them somehow something more. That it made them great. The Killing Curse, the Imperius Curse, they were once tools to help, tools of peace, but magic corrupted them. People with ambition and drive to achieve power, corrupted those instruments of peace, and used them to kill. To slaughter. The Killing Curse was once a humane way to butcher an animal and feed a family, but it was soon used to butcher a family and feed them to an animal." Professor Jackson just sighed and shook his head.
"The reason Professor Dumbledore wants you to know about these curses, is to warn you. Warn you about the corrupting nature of magic like that. It does something to a person, twists them into something foul, and loathsome until they aren't even recognizable as who they used to be." He checked the clock on the far wall and sighed.
"All right," He said with a wave of his hand. The stack of papers on his desk rose into the air, and shot towards each of the students. "That's the syllabus for the semester." He explained, "This discussion took up most of our time today, so we'll restart on Wednesday. You're only homework is to read through the syllabus, and familiarize yourself with the reading schedule. I'll let you all out a little early for lunch. Mister Longbottom, Mister Potter, stay behind a moment will you? The rest of you are dismissed."
Harry remained seated as tables and chairs scraped, and the remainder of the class, with the exception of Neville, rose and slowly left the classroom. He had a sneaking suspicion he knew why Professor Jackson wanted him to stay behind, but he would admit to being curious about Neville. He glanced over at Neville, but the other boy was staring determinately down at his desk, refusing to make eye-contact with anyone. Professor Jackson waited until the door had closed behind the last students, Ron and Hermione, before speaking up, looking directly at Neville.
"Neville," Professor Jackson said softly, "I'm not going to pretend to understand how you're feeling, I'm sure today hasn't exactly been easy," Neville didn't say anything, he just kept his gaze firmly on the wood of his desk. Sighing, Professor Jackson strode over and knelt beside Neville, placing a calming hand on his shoulder, "Hogwarts doesn't exactly have any counselors, and lord above knows that I'm not qualified to be giving advice to fish on how to swim, but I will tell you that my door is always open for you. If you need to talk, if you need to rant, if you need to just break something, my door is always open. Alright?" Neville just nodded his head, but still wasn't looking at Professor Jackson. Harry couldn't help but feel immensely curious about whatever the strange exchange was that was happening before him. Sure Neville had reacted rather poorly to seeing some of the curses, but they all had been a little jumpy after seeing the torture and killing curses live. He knew there was more to whatever was going on.
"All right Neville, go get some lunch," Professor Jackson said, and with the dismissal, Neville quickly gathered his things before bolting from the room. They waited before the door to the room closed again, and with a wave of his hand, the lock to the room closed with a heavy thud.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention that to anyone Harry," Professor Jackson said softly, still staring at the door.
"Of course sir," Harry said at once. Curious as he was about whatever it was that had Neville so jumpy, the truth was that it wasn't any of his business, and he was no longer making the habit of trying to butt his nose into business that didn't concern him. Not when he had so many very real, potentially deadly, concerns that he had to deal with himself.
"Good man," Professor Jackson said with a smile, "I wanted to talk to you about your…additional lessons,"
"Yes sir," Harry said, unable to keep the smile from his face. Having the opportunity to learn magic directly from someone as capable as Professor Jackson had been leaving Harry giddy, regardless of the circumstances behind the lesson being less than ideal.
"Wipe that smile from your face kid," Professor Jackson said, "I don't think you'll have the energy to be smiling when I'm done with you."
Sure enough, the smile faded from Harry's face, as worry began to burble up in his chest.
"Meet me here, an hour after dinner," Professor Jackson instructed, "Use that cloak and map of yours, yes I know about them," He said dismissively, "And wear workout clothing. Something you can around in easily, none of this robes nonsense you Brits seem so fond of."
"Yes sir," Harry said,
"All right," Professor Jackson waved a hand, "Go get some lunch, I need to get ready for my next class, see you tonight."
"Yes sir," Harry said once more, before gathering his things and bounding from the room.
Harry was buzzing with excitement for the rest of the afternoon. It felt as though his afternoon classes were dragging on at an agonizingly slow pace, as he continuously found himself gazing at the clock, counting down the minutes until he'd be meeting with Professor Jackson. Ron and Hermione had, of course, peppered him with questions as soon as they'd reunited, asking him if Professor Jackson had told him what he'd be doing. Harry hadn't been able to answer their questions, as he didn't know himself. So they spent much of the afternoon with their heads put together, theorizing exactly what it would be that Harry would be learning.
"Maybe it's dueling," Ron suggested around a mouthful of mashed potatoes at dinner,
"But do you really think dueling is that effective in an actual fight?" Hermione asked,
"Close enough," Ron shrugged,
"Hm," Hermione hummed, "I don't know. It certainly has to be an active exercise, whatever it is. Why else would he tell you not to wear robes?"
"Because he hates them?" Harry said, and Hermione giggled, it was a poorly held secret in the castle that Professor Jackson absolutely loathed robes. Fred and George had once tried to transfigure his dress clothes into a pair of dress robes, and found themselves on the receiving end of a counter curse themselves. They hadn't been able to remove the bright pink tutus for nearly three days, until Professor McGonagall had apparently forced him to reverse the spell.
The scraping of benches filled the Hall, as the students began to sleepily rise and head for their dormitories. Harry's stomach began to flutter with excited butterflies as he all but ran to Gryffindor Tower, Ron and Hermione hot on his heels. Just before getting to the Tower, Ron held back so that Harry would have someone outside the Common Room to open the portrait hole. Hurrying up to his dormitory, Harry had to be quick about changing his clothes, so that the rest of the boys from his dormitory didn't see him and ask what he was doing. Throwing his invisibility cloak on as soon as he was ready, he grabbed the Map and made his way back down the stairs. He had decided during Transfiguration that it would be easier to wait outside Professor Jackson's classroom, rather than in the crowded Common Room, so he made his way to the portrait hole, just as it opened and Ron walked in.
"Good luck!" He whispered as Harry passed him by and he exited Gryffindor Tower. He had to be careful as he headed down to the fourth floor, while not technically out of bounds yet, he still didn't want to have a run in with any Prefects or worse, Mrs. Norris. It took him twenty minutes before he made his way down to the fourth floor. Opening the door to the classroom, he looked around quickly, before shucking off the cloak. Perching himself on top of his usual desk, he didn't have to wait too long before the door to Professor Jackson's office opened, and he stepped into the classroom.
"Good, you're early," He said, as Harry hopped off the desk. Professor Jackson was dressed similarly to Harry, in a pair of athletic pants and a sung-fitting athletic shirt. There was a small insignia over the right-breast, but Harry couldn't quite tell what it was.
"Evening, Professor," Harry said,
"Follow me," Professor Jackson said, as he turned around and headed back towards his office, "I just finished getting everything ready." Following the Professor through the doorway, Harry's jaw dropped. The personal office had been transformed into an enormous gymnasium. There was an ovular track around the gym, and Harry could see what looked like a bunch of exercise equipment and free-weights in the far corner.
"I love magic," Harry muttered, unable to help himself as he stared in awe at the room.
Professor Jackson snorted, "Well one of us should," He muttered bitterly, and Harry just cast a confused look at him, but he brushed it off.
"You know how to stretch?" He asked and Harry nodded his head, he remembered some of the stretching exercises from when he was still in muggle school. "Good, follow my lead." They spent the next ten minutes getting limber, as Professor Jackson led Harry through a series of stretching exercises, and Harry couldn't really wrap his head around what they were doing, what did stretching have to do with magic?
"All right, that's enough," Professor Jackson said, getting to his feet, and Harry followed suit, "I want eight laps around the track."
"…What?" Harry asked,
"You heard me Potter!" Professor Jackson barked out, "Now get running!" Startled, Harry took off running around the track, and Professor Jackson took off and joined him at a light jog, matching Harry's pace with ease.
"Your magic is part of your soul. Your soul is a manifestation of your own physical and mental health. The stronger you are, the stronger your magic." Professor Jackson explained as they ran, "We're going to get you in shape, after that? We start on the magic."
Harry was unable to answer, they were barely two laps into their jog and his lungs were already feeling like they wanted to explode. Professor Jackson just shot Harry a rather sinister smirk.
"Welcome to boot camp Potter."
BREAK
Harry stumbled back through the portrait hole, blearily shoving the invisibility cloak back into his bag. It was nearly midnight, and blessedly the Common Room was empty, save for Ron and Hermione in their usual chairs by the fire. They both looked up as Harry stumbled in, and collapsed into the last chair.
"You look terrible," Ron said, and Hermione smacked him on the leg,
"Ronald!" She hissed,
"What?" Ron asked indignantly, "He does,"
Harry just grunted, too tired and entirely too sore to even think of responding. Ron and Hermione stared at him for a moment expectantly, but Harry was far too content to just sit down and bask in the warmth of the fire. It felt good on his tired and aching muscles.
"So…" Ron asked when it was clear Harry wasn't going to say anything, "What happened. What did you do?"
"Did you duel? Did he have you practice spells? Did he-"
"I ran," Harry said, his eyes closed as he snuggled deeper into the confines of the chair. The plush velvet really was very soft.
"You…ran?" Hermione asked,
"I ran," Harry said, nodding his head,
"Okay…" Ron said slowly, "Were you running from something? Did he-did he have that monster of a dog try and fight you or-or something?"
"Nope," Harry said, feeling strangely at peace, "I ran laps. Then he made see how many push-ups and sit-ups I could do in a minute. Then we did the same with pull-ups. Then he made me run again and timed me."
"Why?" Ron asked incredulously, "What has that got to do with anything?"
"Some nonsense about magic being a manifestation of the soul and our soul gains strength from our own physical or mental health or something stupid. Magic is stupid. Professor Jackson is stupid. Running is stupid." He yawned, his jaw threatening to break from the size of the action, maybe he could just spend the night in the chair in front of the fire. But the ache in his neck, and the soreness in his muscles was telling him that wouldn't be a good idea.
"But you play quidditch!" Ron said in exasperation,
"Which, according to Professor Jackson, requires me to do nothing more than sit on a broomstick. Hate to admit it, but he's got a bit of a point," He said around another yawn.
With tremendous effort, he hauled himself out of the chair.
"I'm off to bed," Harry said, "Professor Jackson wants me up early tomorrow."
"For what?" Ron asked, as he and Hermione also rose from their respective chairs and followed Harry up the stairs.
"Boot camp."
AN: All right, only one chapter left for this series of updates, hope you guys have been enjoying the direction things have been going. Next chapter, Harry gets some much needed closure and the schools arrive. As always shoutout to Double0Sxvxn for being an awesome Beta and dealing with my bullshit and as always if you enjoyed this but haven't checked out my other work, give them a try you never know you might find something else you like. I'm also on discord now, where I and a bunch of other writers hang out, chat and brainstorm ideas, you just have to copy the link that's in my profile bio if you want to come and hang out with us. Stay safe, stay healthy and have an awesome week
All My Love,
LilDB