After the chaos of the Christmas holidays, Harry enjoyed sinking back into a normal school routine without fanfare. Even the exhaustion was structured, he felt as the Time Turning started taking its toll on his body again.
Nevertheless, holiday homework was handed in to his teachers' pleased and proud nods. Or disgusted scowl and the loss of five house points from Gryffindor for "crumpled parchment", in the case of Snape, but Harry wasn't expecting otherwise from him.
He let the cynicism wash over him like water while focussing on his other concerns. Now that the twins had communicated that they were willing to supply his potions, Harry needed to make some rather drastic changes to his study plan. He had the little note from them stuffed in a pocket while at breakfast that next morning, and was scribbling out various scheduling possibilities while he ate. Without Dobby trying to steal his stuff to send him home, things would be calmer, Harry hoped.
But the quirks of those potions – which needed to be out of his system by exams, he remembered – meant he needed to prioritise, and the convenient passages from the Room of Requirement weren't around anymore to smooth Harry's way.
Deeply thoughtful, Harry accidentally chewed his quill nib instead of his spoonful of porridge and spluttered a little.
When he looked up to the sound of a chuckle, Harry was surprised to find a gaggle of senior students standing behind him, oddly polite and excited.
He took in the crowd with confusion. Gryffindors stood around him, mostly fifth and seventh years, and as he met their eager gaze there was a rustle of whispers and elbow nudges that ran around the group until Percy was pushed forward to speak for them.
"We were just wondering, Harry," Percy began with red ears, possibly because of the listeners or because of the lingering embarrassment from his confession last night, "if classes were starting up again this term? What time suits you? Same time, same place, we were thinking?"
"Er, what?"
Harry blinked, then slowly placed his spoon back into his porridge bowl so that he wouldn't do something else that people would laugh at him for.
For a moment, he fought away the shapes and symbols of study timetables and potion schedules and to-do lists. He forced his way towards mental clarity, but found himself with the weirdest sensation that somehow twenty years had passed and prefects – his prefects? And so young they all were at 18 – had come to him, somehow he was Professor McGonagall, and he cursed the energy and innocent enthusiasm of youth.
Then the spinning subsided as Harry found his own body again and immediately dismissed the exhaustion-induced image.
He frowned in confusion. "Classes?"
There was the shuffling of feet and little sideways glances that Harry momentarily couldn't read. Someone elbowed Percy again, and he opened his mouth for a second time.
Harry found the moment rather surreal as the raft of senior students reminded him about the Patronus Club, the N.E.W.T extra credit, and his own early successes of last term. Harry, still not quite figuring out what they wanted, spent a whole minute in flattered appreciation that they had made such a big deal about thanking him, before the thought occurred that they wanted the Patronus Club back, and Harry had to promise the Gryffindors that he would think about it before they would go away and leave him to his plans and his food.
As the crowd shuffled and crowded around him awkwardly, Percy managed to squeak into a seat next to Neville, and Harry shot him a thankful look as the older boy made little shooing gestures, so eventually the huddle went away.
Harry returned to his scraps of parchment with a vengeance. See, if one full phial of memory potion would last him eight hours, but an opened phial must be used all at once, and the time between doses needed to be – Harry paused to scribble some calculations on another parchment – But then the most effective way to learn, whether using the potion or not, was to use memory recall over time…
He muttered a low curse-word and absently wiped a spot of blue ink off his chin.
He was almost immediately interrupted by three serious looking Hufflepuffs, who hovered over his seated form rather intensely and practically demanded that the Patronus Club pick up again immediately.
"Did anyone manage to have some success over the break?" Harry questioned, blinking his way out of calculating how badly he might be poisoned if he took too much potion too soon.
They looked at each other blankly, feet shuffling as Hermione, Ron, Neville and a few other interested Gryffindors looked on.
"Not much," a stocky Asian boy finally answered, "which is kind of the point. The extra classes for N.E.W.T students only begin in March and we need to see some improvement before then."
"Huh."
Harry made the appropriate noises and had Hermione help him shuffle them away, before returning back to his notes. He had the oddest sensation that there were eyes on him. Not just the usual Potter Spotter audience, but…people wanting something from him.
Harry tried to refocus despite the prickling on his neck when Percy's girlfriend approached, under the encouragingly nodding Percy's eye, no less, and Harry had blinked, startled.
He put his porridge spoon down with a clink.
"Sorry, what?"
Penelope smiled at him enthusiastically. "The Patronus Club. I was wondering if you were going to call for a meeting this week, or if the first meeting was going to be during the second week back. I'm willing to help you get the word out, if you want."
Harry spared a blank glance Percy's way – what's with this enthusiasm? – and then looked oddly at Hermione and Oliver Wood, who also seemed to be learning curiously in their direction.
He scratched behind an ear, still lost. "Sorry, uh…Penelope, wasn't it? I thought you seniors would be more focused on revision and all. Not, well, my little experimental group. Don't you have N.E. to worry about and all?"
She dismissed his concerns and asked again about Wednesday again.
"I thought that we'd cut back a bit on sessions this year," Harry offered. "Due to, y'know, exams upcoming and all that. Besides, most of the O.W.L and N.E.W.T students at least got some mist before the holidays, right? So I figured you were on your way to success, maybe revise in small groups. It's just a matter of time now. I don't have much more to teach."
"Oh, Harry," Percy interrupted, after his girlfriend sent him a helpless look. He set his own toast and jam breakfast down and turned to face Harry more fully. "I think that you will find that this is the precise reason that a lot of exam students are hoping to continue your lessons. The Patronus Charm gives the most bonus marks in the exam if it is corporeal."
Oliver Wood gave Harry an encouraging nod from his spot a few seats down the table, and waved a hand to indicate the agreement of more of his classmates.
Harry furrowed his brows. "I mean, I'm not opposed to the idea. If you think it will help, I can talk to Professor Lupin today."
Unsurprisingly, it was Hermione who jumped in to support the plan, and Harry was convinced to do something about it later that week.
When another handful of Hufflepuffs accosted Harry at lunch, he acknowledged that perhaps he had misinterpreted the interest in his little Patronus club. He began feeling a little twitchy. When half the Slytherin quidditch team caught Harry just as he was exiting the Great Hall after dinner, Harry realised he needed to make plans with Remus immediately and sort this strange demand out.
"You're not a bad sort, for a Gryffindor," Marcus Flint of all people said abruptly. "We want to know when your club's starting up again."
Katie and Angelina, who happened to have been walking by on their own way out of dinner, saw Harry crowded by a bunch of large and burly sixth and seventh years, and swung over to interrupt.
Angelina's hand strayed suspiciously close to the pocket that held her wand. "Alright, alright Snakes. Back off, Flint; this kid's our Golden Seeker. You can't just jump him like this in the Entrance Hall and expect no one to notice!"
"Give him some space, boys," Katie added in a deceptively soft voice. Harry furrowed his eyebrows as he noticed her tie back her long hair, and crack her knuckles. "Gryffindor takes care of our own."
Harry felt loved, even if he believed his true capabilities left him in no way outclassed.
"Back up, bints," one of the other hulking Slytherins mumbled. It was completely uncalculated but the exact worst thing the boy – Bole, maybe? Or was it the other beater, Derrick? Harry never really bothered to tell them apart – could have said.
Tension sparked.
Harry jumped into the fray. "Hold up, folks. Sorry about the confusion, Angie, Katie. These guys here are part of the club I tak—teach? Yeah, teach – in my spare time."
Everyone looked gobsmacked, not just Angelina and Katie. "Say what, Harry?"
"Oi, Potter...?" another of the Slytherins muttered. Possibly a chaser, this time, Harry thought.
Harry found himself smack dab in between the two groups, which were tensely repositioning themselves into opposing sides. Harry's hands were empty, unthreatening, and arms outstretched, in the optimistic hope that no fighting would break out.
He hoped no one noticed that his fingertips were trembling again.
Katie found her voice first, although at least she had stopped cracking her knuckles. "You, er, you teach these great lugs, Potter?"
Despite the open doorway behind him and the constant flow of air and students, Harry felt the back of his neck heat up. "Uh, yeah? I, uh…I run a Patronus Club. Our teacher advisor is Professor Lupin, you know. It, um…it's helping prepare senior students for their O.W.L and N.E.W.T exams?"
The Slytherins muttered confusedly behind Harry, while Angelina cocked one very sceptical eyebrow Harry's way. "No offence, kid, but you're tutoring seniors for exam prep?"
The Slytherin who was probably Bole stepped forward again and loomed threateningly even as his words seemed oddly…inquiring. "You hadn't heard then? Potter can cast a fully corporeal Patronus?"
The girls shared a glance. "I mean, I know he was awesome in that one game a ways back…"
Harry shrugged one shoulder awkwardly. "I mean, it wasn't corporeal at the time. I've, um, actually been having some trouble with my form at the moment. These guys haven't seen me cast a corporeal anything, but—"
"Potter's an odd kid," Flint broke in. "But he does know what he's talking about, and he's weirdly good at giving advice on Charms and wand movements and whatnot."
"Our kid Potter?"
The other Beater nodded emphatically. "He's real patient and stuff. Doesn't get angry when you're slow, you know. And, he says that the Patronus is more emotion than fines—, fineness—, fine control, which is good for some of us who ain't great at Charms, you know?"
Harry looked at the older boy, who he remembered as a very quiet if stubborn worker who worked particularly well at practising wand movements. "You're Peregrine Derrick, aren't you? You've been really persistent about practising your form. You don't stop till you're tired, do you? Boredom doesn't stop you from practising."
The tall and sullen boy flicked his head to move his longish, brown fringe out of his eyes, and looked at Harry in confused agreement.
Harry scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "What? I, er, like to keep an eye on my students' progress. I might not know all your names that well, but I like to think I know how your spells are going."
Heads swivelling, Angelina and Katie looked back at Harry in confusion, and he suddenly remember that in another timeline, Angelina had compared the Slytherin beaters academic merits to Crabbe and Goyle's. He wondered what other ridiculous changes he was making to his timeline, and forced an innocent smile.
"What?" Harry deflected. "He's a hard worker!"
Crisis potentially averted, Angie took her hand, thankfully, away from her pocket, allowing Harry's shoulders to relax again.
"Sorry, but I don't think I'm quite following. You are teaching the Slytherin Quidditch Team…N.E.W.T tricks?"
"Oh no. Not at all." Harry's arms, which had dropped to his sides, came back up as his hands carved awkward shapes in the air. "Only some of the Slytherin quidditch team. Uh…at least half the Hufflepuff team, I'd say, don't you guys think?"
An assortment of grunts and murmurs indicated agreement.
"Ah…I've got a bunch of first and second years who come and, more importantly, stayed even though they haven't seen the progress of the older students yet. A few prefects from all the Houses, I think…not as many from Ravenclaw actually, now I think about it, although they're weirdly intense about it if they do come."
Eyebrows rose in disbelief.
Harry continued. "Plus, you know: Percy Weasley and his friends; almost all of Cedric Diggory's friend circle, I think. Most of the Gryffindor third-years…" He trailed off. "So yeah, it's quite a crowd."
He felt an embarrassed flush rising into his cheeks again at the looks of the older students around him. "I mean," he blustered, suddenly losing his confidence, "It's not like they've stuck with me without seeing any progress since November. I've helped a few people with other spells too. Um…the Cheering Charm, the Cushioning Charm, that warming charm I reminded you guys of for early morning practises…y'know. As a quick revision of the basics. Stuff that might help people cast, feel safe and happy."
A couple of other older Gryffindors had appeared out of the crowd during the conversation, and peered over the shoulders of Angelina and Katie curiously. A few shot dark glares the Slytherins' way, but then one of Cedric's friends popped up – very visibly in his Hufflepuff colours – and bumped shoulders gently with Flint.
"Are you guys here to ask Potter about the Club? What'd he say?" He grinned at Harry as the tension visibly released again. "So are we on for this week, kid? Same room as usual?"
Harry's arms prickled with goosebumps at the spectacle he was making of himself in front of the school. He didn't mind teaching 30 or 40 students in a classroom about spellwork, but the gossipmongers of the Hogwarts rumour mill were nothing to sneeze at. He began to wish that he could pop around some corner and disappear into a hidden corridor.
"Ah. I've been…persuaded to talk to Professor Lupin tonight," he acknowledged with a rueful grin. "I'll get our timings sorted for the first few sessions and get your prefects to post some dates and times in your common rooms, probably tomorrow. Will that do?"
"Good enough for me," the Hufflepuff boy nodded, one scraggly tooth giving his smile an oddly charming air. He flung an overly friendly arm around Marcus Flint, who seemed astonished by the contact but was willing to be led away, his teammates trailing behind him. A few nodded politely to Harry before they followed Flint and his…companion.
"Did that just happen?" Katie asked Angelina as Harry finished waving at the older boys and turned to make his own escape from the awkward conversation.
She blinked, baffled. "I think…it might have?"
Harry saw the question in her eyes, and made his apologies with alacrity.
"So sorry. As I guess you've seen, I need to talk to Professor Lupin. Thanks for the back-up folks, although this time it wasn't necessary. Haha. I guess I'll, just see you later then? Cheers for now."
He walked off briefly, still feeling eyes on his back as he left.
It was a quick thing to turn a corner sharply and jerk open a broom closet he'd used extensively last term as a hidden passage.
A stray seventh year saw Harry walk decisively into the cupboard and, with enough pause to double-check the corridor, slowly walked over to towards the cupboard that Harry had disappeared into. With a curious jerk of his arms, the door was wrenched open.
All that met his eyes were heavy shadows and dim lighting, just bright enough to display a small smattering of spiders, a bucket or three, and four mops for cleaning.
After giving the tiny space a second blank, baffled look, the tall boy swung the door closed and continued on his way.
Four minutes later, the same cupboard door cracked open just an inch. When the completely empty corridor showed no response, the door swung open wider and then closed again. In the middle of the hallway, a deeply blushing Harry cancelled his disillusionment charm and, with a final check to see that no one had witnessed his embarrassing mistake, rushed off towards a distant destination.
Because there was no one in the Room of Requirement, so there were none of his secret passages.
Habit was a scary thing.
With sheer embarrassment as his driving force, it didn't take Harry long to realise that he could ask one of his house elves to hang out in the Room during the school day and maintain the secret passageways. Kreacher wouldn't mind it, now he'd relaxed his 'good house-elf' rules a little. And Dobby would be thrilled to help out.
Harry fought back the echo of deep embarrassment and consciously remembered that he didn't have to hold his breath; the random student wasn't currently staring at his invisible form in the cupboard, and wouldn't get the chance again.
So at least that was one problem solved.
"Harry," Percy said as he found the younger boy cloistered away in a private nook in the library, late on Tuesday afternoon. The sound of other students was muffled where Harry happened to sit, and the afternoon sun was bright enough for a good session on note-taking that Harry nevertheless didn't mind putting off. He pushed back his seat with a squeak and looked up.
Percy continued. "I promised to talk to you about Divination, and what with my little episode, um, a few days ago, I completely forgot! Do you have time?"
With a sigh of relief, Harry put down his list-of-essential-Runes-basics-to-memorise which he was compiling and scuffed around to find some unused parchment.
"Percy! Grab a seat, please!" he welcomed. "I'm absolutely desperate for some good advice. Hermione's about ready to call it quits on the subject, and what I'm doing now seems worse than useless, but…it can't all be like that, can it? What you can tell me?"
The older red-head settled into the wooden chair opposite Harry's side of the table and took a moment to huff a sigh, sounding surprisingly like his father in that moment. "Let me think." He steepled his fingers. "Where to begin? Where to begin…? I, er, suppose that you have tried the usual avenues of enquiry with Professor Trelawny and found them, er, lacking?"
Harry nodded emphatically. "She's a nice enough lady; I do actually respect her, you know." He saw a brief image reflected in his mind's eye of the woman – tassels, shawls and glasses and all – launching crystal balls over balconies and onto unsuspecting Death Eater heads. "But her teaching style just really isn't working for me."
Percy settled more comfortably into his seat, one ankle crossed over his other knee, and cast a quick spell so that their voices wouldn't disturb other students' studies. "I…find that it is not within me to blame you for such a situation," he admitted. "I, myself, also struggled with the Professor's…intuitive teaching progress where I would have preferred some more concrete."
"Hrm," Harry agreed politely, careful not to add anything to the conversation that might be seen as insulting, dismissive or offensive of the teacher.
Percy pursed his lips. "May I enquire as to what point have you reached in your own, independent studies then?"
Harry finished shuffling his books and parchment around and straightened to give Percy his full attention. "I've realised that there seem to be a whole bunch of different sub-categories of Divination; not everyone who divines is a Seer, for example. Preferred forms of Sight vary by culture – not everyone finds tea-reading useful, for example – and I've begun to suspect that there are some cultural understandings that need to be known for things to make sense. Things some wizards have grown up with, for example, but that need to be taught to people like me."
"A rather holistic perspective," Percy acknowledged with a thin-lipped smile. "You realise, of course, that not all divination techniques work for every wizard, of course."
He did not. Harry scribbled a note rather vehemently. Well, that was helpful. Trelawney hadn't mentioned that before.
"Those who do not drink tea for pleasure," Percy continued, "find it almost impossible to get anything out of the bottom of a teacup."
It made sense.
"Furthermore," the older boy added thoughtfully, eying Harry's quill-feather with a measuring eye, "not all forms of Sight See the future, either."
Harry paused, the scratching of his quill nib jerking to a sudden halt. "I…is that so?"
"Indeed. Through my years in Professor Trelawny's classroom, I have begun to suspect that she specialises in Seeing the present, although I dare not attempt to confront her about this."
"You think?" Harry's thought back to what he knew of the professor over his years with her…
Percy shrugged. "At the very least, the professor is not a likely candidate to learn gossip from other teachers, what with her…" he shrugged, "persona, and so forth. However, have you noticed how she does actually seem to know an incredible amount about certain students on the very first day of class?"
That was true, Harry thought, then stopped chewing at his quill-feather to make another couple of notes. How did she know that Neville was the type to break a teacup all the way back in his first timeline? She certainly wasn't the type that McGonagall would gossip casually with. And how did she know that Harry would have…had been having… a run-in with a grim? Even if she'd misread the signs a bit, but the dog had been there…
Percy pushed over a short, handwritten list of book titles and leaned back in his chair again. "These are my recommendations for the best books to reference for self-study," he offered, and sharp eyes took in Harry's perusal of the list.
Harry rubbed his palms together, getting the blood flowing again after a solid hour or two of focussed study, then reached forward to grab the soft parchment between his fingertips.
"Just like tea-leaves do not work for everyone, palmistry – you've just started that this term, if I'm recalling correctly – and rune stones will never work for all practitioners either," the Head Boy added. "Once you have found at least one form of Divination that works for you," Percy continued, "You should explore which form of Sight might suit you best." He flushed. "I, myself, work best with…this is almost embarrassing, really…with an intuitive reading of statistics, if you will. I can look at past data and…I cannot call it extrapolating from it, since that would require me to use logic to build on. But I find that I can make cognitive leaps that do not stem solely from logic. I find that I am correct more often that I should be, all else being accounted for."
Harry raised his eyebrows silently and looked at the freckled boy before him.
Percy wriggled. "You might prefer to call it numerology, if you will. I…find intuitive ways to read data, and find the symbology within my answers that seem to…work for me." He looked at Harry a little shame-facedly. "And obviously arithmantic calculations are right up my alley."
Harry nodded agreeably.
"My mother does tea-leaf reading, when she wants a hint of something," Percy added. "I've seen my father do cleromancy. With small or broken muggle paraphernalia, if you can imagine. Of course, the generality of the predictions tends to put them both off. If you find yourself any good at tarot or crystal gazing, you might end up using divination more often."
"One more thing," Percy interrupted Harry's thoughts just as he was about to dive back into his note-taking. "You'll find that the Divination room is set high in a Hogwarts' tower for a reason; the hustle and bustle and everyday magic of the school really does influence any divination you try to do lower down. Ward lines and enchantments and all sorts seem to—" he wriggled his fingers in the air "—interrupt whatever focus or inspiration you need for divination to work. It's better in personal homes and outside," Percy finished. "Oh. And crystal balls and tarot decks and so forth, owned by the school, are almost perfectly useless even if you do have that specific gift. They've been used and abused by too many strangers to gel with your magic. Try to find your way to receiving a set from a friend, somehow, or see if you can find anything left of your family heirlooms. If your divination is fated to be, you will often end up with the tools of divination without even going searching for them."
Harry thought suddenly of the tea routine that Kreacher had put him in, three times a day most often while he lived at Grimmauld Place, and that little packet of runestones that Draco had found him for Christmas.
Huh. This might work. He added it to his to-do list.