Disclaimer: Nothing is mine; everything is J K Rowling's.
Wow, some of you were pretty quick to jump to conclusions about Harry's involvement with the DA...
Either way, here's the next chapter to confirm or assuage your fears!
Chapter 45
Someone had talked to Umbridge. It hadn't been one of the members of Dumbledore's Army, he'd checked every face that had been in the Hog's Head and none of them bore the work of Hermione's jinx.
That meant that one of the Ravenclaws that had left early had gone to talk to her, or someone that they had told, had done it instead.
Harry grinned. It made things much easier for him.
There had only been three students that had left early, Cho Chang he already knew, and it hadn't taken long to find out the names of her friends. Marietta Edgecombe, and Lisa Turpin. One of them had betrayed the group to Umbridge, and the Pink Professor had trusted their word enough to write to Fudge for help again.
One of them might prove very useful in the future.
It wasn't Cho Chang. Harry knew she loathed Umbridge as much as her boyfriend, Cedric did, but a couple of innocent questions about the attractive strawberry blonde at the Ravenclaw table and he knew that Edgecombe had a mother in the ministry, one who was quite outspoken in support of Fudge.
That had led him here, to sitting under his cloak on the table across the library from where Cho, Lisa and Marietta were studying, just before lunch began.
Harry fingered the tip of his wand. This was a risk, a huge risk, but one that was worth the gamble. If he knew who it was among the students that Umbridge trusted then he had one of his breadcrumbs ready made, and he could slip whatever he wanted into her ears via Marietta's mouth.
'Legilimens,' he whispered, surreptitiously pointing is wand at Marietta's back.
He cast the spell as lightly as possible, knowing from the few times Creevey had actually been awake by the fire that a very underpowered attempt could pass unnoticed.
There was a brief flutter of unintelligible images; the connection was a fraction too faint.
'Legilimens,' he repeated, a little stronger this time, and the connection formed almost perfectly, not too weak to be useless, but not strong enough to be felt as anything more than a slight headache.
Marietta was gossiping about some boy in their house, his picture and hers were prevalent among her thoughts.
Harry slipped an impression of pink in among them. Too simple to seem foreign, too subtle to be detected.
Pink made her think of Umbridge, of having tea in that ghastly office and talking about an organisation that her friends had chosen not to attend, but existed to flout what Umbridge was teaching.
Harry broke the connection, withdrawing from her mind. Marietta Edgecombe would be Umbridge's first breadcrumb when the time came.
Pulling the cloak off and folding it away under his robes he quietly left the library, leaving a concerned Cho Chang to ask her friend why she was suddenly pressing her fingers against her temples.
He met Katie on the way down to lunch, she was cheerful, buoyed by a good mark on her latest transfiguration essay.
'How was Arithmancy?' She asked him.
Harry twisted his lips in discontent. 'It's not easy, and it's not as interesting as I hoped, but it isn't boring either.'
'Like all subjects then,' Katie smiled. 'It's not your strongest area, so I wouldn't worry about it.'
'I wasn't it,' Harry assured her. 'I'm much better at Charms and Transfiguration, but Arithmancy is useful, it's very helpful in understanding why certain things happen in… some areas of magic.'
He'd almost said rituals, which made use of the magical properties of some numbers to channel, focus and amplify the magical qualities of the ritual, but at the last moment remembered the connotations of the word. Harry doubted Katie would judge him, but there were plenty of people around to do it for her.
'Have you seen the Daily Prophet?' Harry inquired.
'No,' Katie gave him a worried look, 'did you do something?'
'It's not to do with me,' he screwed his face up, 'well, it's not directly to do with me. I'll show you at lunch, someone always has a copy lying around to read while they eat.'
She realised immediately that he really meant when there are fewer people nearby and quickened her pace, swiftly descending the stairs, bypassing the unfortunate younger Creevey who had somehow managed to get both his feet stuck in one of the trick steps.
'So what's happened?' Katie pressed, all but pushing him into the nearest empty seat and shooing a handful of second years further up the table. They didn't dare linger to argue.
Harry glanced down the table, catching sight of an unattended paper, and summoned it, wordlessly and wandlessly into his hand. Katie blinked, then beamed.
'That's really impressive,' she gushed, 'you're so powerful and brilliant, my lord.'
'Hush you,' Harry remonstrated, grinning. 'It's taken me hours and hours of practise to be able to do that, I'm allowed to show it off.'
'How many hours?' She asked curiously, unfolding the Daily Prophet he'd so extravagantly summoned over a portion of the game pie that Harry had intended to be his. He cut himself another slice instead.
'At least ten,' Harry decided thoughtfully. There had been a lot of scattered summoning of things to get used to the movement of magic well enough for it to be remembered and form an instant mental association with the intent. 'It's like learning drills for quidditch, you have to do it so many times it sinks in and becomes a reflex.'
'So it probably took Dumbledore hours of practice to be able to light the candles on his lectern like he does to impress the first years every year.'
'I'd never thought about that,' Harry laughed, 'but yes, probably.'
'So what did you want to show me.' Katie was flicking through the pages from the wrong side, so Harry retrieved it from her and turned it over to show her the headline.
'Educational Decree twenty-five,' Katie read aloud. 'That doesn't sound good.'
'Every student run club or organisation has to apply to her for permission to continue,' Harry explained, taking a mouthful of pie.
'The quidditch team,' Katie realised, horrified, dropping her fortunately clean fork into her lap.
'The DA,' Harry whispered, trying not to laugh at the expression on her face. 'Someone went and told her and she must have written to Fudge to try and stop it forming.'
'Since when were we calling it the DA?' Katie asked quietly, retrieving her silverware.
'Do you want to be heard talking about Dumbledore's Army and sent to see Umbridge?' Harry asked bluntly.
'Not when you put it like that,' Katie pouted. 'I've not seen anything of Umbridge today, though, and apparently she wasn't in her class this morning.'
'Has anyone had detention with her recently?' Harry inquired, taking a few more forkfuls as Katie thought about it.
'Colin Creevey, again,' she replied, puzzled, then her eyes widened as she remembered what Harry had told her about the quill. 'You don't think that's why, do you?'
'I hope it is,' Harry responded with vindictive cheerfulness, 'otherwise she's probably causing trouble for someone somewhere.'
'Maybe she's redecorating her office,' Katie suggested, 'it's about time someone pointed out to her how hideous it is.'
'Maybe that's why Creevey had detention,' Harry murmured, fighting back a laugh at the idea. 'She probably has I must not criticise the colour pink permanently scarred onto her hand now,' he chuckled.
Katie scowled at him, but then gave him a slightly reluctant smile. 'So who do you think told her?'
'Nobody whose name is on that list,' Harry replied seriously. 'Otherwise we would know, so it must have been one of the students who knew about the meeting and didn't sign up.'
'Well we aren't likely to find out who,' Katie growled, upset by the loss of the chance for revenge.
'You'll have to settle for hexing firsties,' Harry agreed.
Neville collapsed heavily onto the bench beside him. 'There you are,' he sighed. 'I've been looking for you since the end of your first class.'
'Why?'
'You said you'd have a look at my shield charm for me,' Neville reminded him, 'and now I have to teach it to a load of people I need you do it soon.'
'Well if you come with me in a moment, I'll take a look in an empty classroom,' Harry offered. When he said an empty classroom he really meant Umbridge's classroom, because he quite wanted to see if she had suffered the effects of his retaliation.
'Thanks,' Neville smiled, relieved. 'I don't know why it trembles, it's like I can't quite get my magic to do what I want.'
'Hopefully we can figure it out,' Harry shrugged. 'Have you decided what you're going to teach first?'
'The shield charm, then a few of the jinxes,' Neville informed him, helping himself to the Daily Prophet with a frown. 'Have you seen this?'
'Yeah,' Harry nodded. 'One of the people who didn't sign ratted us all out to Umbridge, I've been checking faces all morning.'
'Looks like we'll have to be careful, then,' Neville grimaced.
'Keep an eye out for anyone who doesn't come to the first meeting and then take their badge back if they've back out,' Katie suggested calmly. 'Everyone else is dedicated enough to be on our side.'
'Where's the list?' Harry asked, injecting just enough concern into his tone.
'Hermione has it,' Neville answered lightly.
'Make sure she hides it somewhere safe,' Harry reminded him. 'Umbridge will be able to get her hands on it if it's just in Gryffindor Tower, she'll be looking for any proof the group still exists. The meetings are safe since we're in the Room of Requirement, but that list will get us all on Umbridge's detention roster. Hermione'll want to find somewhere it won't be found.' Harry phrased his advice quite specifically and just about managed not to smile when Neville's eyes lit up with the idea he hoped to place.
'I know where she can hide it,' he grinned. 'If we're safe in the room, then the list will be too, right?'
'I guess,' Harry shrugged noncommittally, 'if there's a place to hide things.' He was perfectly aware of the Room of Hidden Things. He'd found it when he'd been reading the Secrets of the Darkest Arts and needed somewhere to store it in the meanwhile. He could easily access the list once it was left there.
All it will take is a few words to find their way to Umbridge about a room of hidden things on the seventh floor that appears when you need it and that list and I will be a step away from being able to act.
Harry calmly finished the last few mouthfuls of his pie while Katie interrogated Neville about the Room of Requirement in heated whispers. Things were starting to fall into place.
If only I knew more about that Prophecy.
He needed to speak to Sirius later.
'Coming, Nev?' Harry glimpsed a slightly pale looking Pink Professor take her seat on the staff table, a clean, white bandage wrapped around her right hand. He smiled at the cruel satisfaction the sight filled him with.
Time to find out what she got Creevey to carve into her own hand.
'Yeah,' his friend pulled himself up and straightened his robes, 'I'm coming.'
'What about me?' Katie sulked.
'You've got Charms now,' Harry reminded her. 'Neville and I are free for the rest of day.'
'I have Herbology last thing, actually,' Neville corrected him.
'Well I'm free all day,' he smirked, waving a smug goodbye at Katie, who glared at him.
'Which empty classroom?' Neville inquired, glancing into every single one they passed.
'This one,' Harry grinned, ushering him into Umbridge's room, and pulling the back cloak out from under his robes.
'Not again, Harry,' Neville moaned, as he slipped into Umbridge's office, concealed by his family heirloom.
Her office was considerably less tidy than the last time he'd snuck in here. The pink drapes were askew, and a handful of the decorative china pieces were missing from the walls. Umbridge had clearly not reacted well to Harry's little surprise.
A small, messy stack of parchments on the corner of her desk were covered in rust-brown ink, a colour that was close enough to dried blood to catch Harry's eye.
I must not blindly believe the lies of others, he read.
He re-read it several times at the top of each page until, three sets of side later, it came to an abrupt stop with a thick blot. It looked like Creevey had driven the quill into the page when she'd realised what was happening and asked him to stop. Harry's respect for the camera wielding menace rose a few notches.
It's perfect, he decided. I couldn't have chosen better words if I'd tried.
He replaced the papers as he'd found them, and swiftly checked on the quill. His enchantments were as he'd left them, but the silver tip had been snapped by the force with which Creevey had driven it into his page. She'd have to make another to if she wanted to continue her malicious punishments, and Harry would be more than happy to re-enchant that one for her too.
'Are you done?' Neville demanded.
'I haven't done anything,' Harry responded. 'I just wanted to see what the words she chose to give to Creevey were. I suspect they've left an impression.'
Neville shot him a slightly guilty grin. He hated Umbridge, and a handful of others too, Harry imagined, but he wasn't capable of the same level of cruelty that Harry was.
'Show me your shield then,' Harry told him, waving his hand at Neville and taking a seat on the nearest desk.
'Protego,' Neville commanded clearly, extracting and waving his wand. The shield sprung into being around him exactly as it had on the last two occasions Harry had seen it.
'I don't know what's wrong with it,' Neville despaired, 'my pronunciation, my wand motion and my intent are all clear.' Harry was inclined to agree with him, he had heard and seen nothing wrong, so the problem was either with Neville's focus, or with his magic.
That's his father's wand, Harry remembered.
'I have an idea or two,' he suggested softly, 'try not to be offended.'
'I'm not going to be able to do it, am I?' Neville asked miserably.
'If I'm right about what's wrong then it can easily be fixed,' Harry reassured him. Neville perked up slightly at that. 'It looks like your magic isn't quite doing what you wanted. That wand,' he gestured at Neville's hand, 'it was your father's, yes?'
'Yes,' Neville nodded.
'It's possible that your problem is due to using a wand that isn't quite right for you,' Harry explained gently. 'You are unlikely to be perfectly suited to your father's wand and you might be better off getting one of your own.'
Neville's eyes caught fire, and his knuckled tightened possessively on the wand until they whitened. 'There's nothing wrong with the wand,' he snapped.
'Here,' Harry held out his own,' try using mine.'
'Protego,' Neville repeated, swapping hands and using Harry's ebony wand.
A very faint shimmer of silver light surrounded him, then Neville hissed with pain, dropping Harry's wand on the desk next to him and the shield dissipated.
'It burnt me,' he murmured, shocked, and turned his hand to show Harry the thin red mark along the length of his palm and the slightly swollen finger tips.
'Sorry,' Harry apologised, retrieving his wand. 'I think it's quite strongly bonded to me.'
'I take your point about not using a wand that isn't suited to you,' Neville laughed, rubbing the burn mark. 'I'll talk to Gran about it, if I find a wand better suited to me at Ollivander's then maybe that will fix things.'
'It should help you with everything,' Harry told him. 'A wand is the conduit through which you use your magic, the better matched to you it is then the easier you will find performing magic.'
'That makes sense,' Neville agreed, 'but still…' He trailed off looking down at his father's wand.
'Just because you're not a perfect match for his wand,' Harry began carefully, 'does not mean he wouldn't be proud of you. You're like your father and your mother, Nev, you'll need something in between them both.'
Neville swallowed hard, and carefully replaced his father's wand into the pocket of his robes.
'What were your other suggestions?' He asked.
'There was only one,' Harry told him. 'It's possible you aren't quite focused enough, I know a branch of magic I can teach you that can help with that. It's not easy to learn, though, and you'd have to keep it a secret that I taught you.'
'It's not something dark is it?' Neville asked, his voice wavering.
'No,' Harry laughed. 'It's called Occlumency, it's about organising your thoughts and clearing your mind of emotions and thoughts. It's meant to protect your mind, but the principles are very helpful for focusing your intent and that's why most wizards learn it.' He studied Neville carefully. 'I can teach it to you, it'd not dark, just a bit obscure. Voldemort is supposed to be very good at its opposite, which is why I'm learning it.'
'I want to learn it,' Neville decided after a moment of thought. 'If it helps me perform magic better and stops wizards attacking my mind then I should learn it.'
Perfect, Harry exalted mentally.
'It won't be easy to learn,' Harry let the slight amount of guilt he felt for misleading Neville show on his face, 'it can be painful, and you need to trust me completely.'
'I trust you,' Neville declared immediately. 'I'll learn it however you think is best.'
Thank you for your loyalty, Nev, Harry thought sadly, but perhaps you shouldn't trust me so readily.
'When do we start?' He seemed quite eager and Harry's guilt surged a little higher.
We both profit from this, Harry reminded himself, and his remorse ebbed away again.
'You have to do the first bit yourself,' Harry told him, 'practise emptying your thoughts, forcing your mind to go blank, even when you're angry, or upset.'
'I'll finally have something useful to do in Umbridge's lessons,' Neville quipped.
Harry laughed, forgetting the last of his guilt completely. 'Yes, I suppose you will.'
'Let's leave before Umbridge gets back,' Neville suggested. 'I need to plan what I'll be helping everyone with once the meetings get going.'
'I'm sure you'll think of something,' Harry shrugged.
'You're my assistant,' Neville reminded him, as they left the classroom and head back towards the main staircase.
'We both know that's just an excuse to get me in so I can teach you all the Patronus Charm,' Harry grinned. 'How long did Hermione bug you about it before you gave in and decided to just get me to teach everyone instead of learning it from me and passing it on.'
'She might have mentioned it a few times,' Neville admitted.
'Thought so,' Harry smirked.
'You're not coming to many of the meetings are you,' Neville realised.
'Of course not,' Harry responded bluntly. 'I don't have any reason to help them. I can barely tolerate most of them while they're quiet, let alone when they're effusing nonsense about me. I'll join and teach the Patronus because Dementors are horrible creatures and you can't use that charm against me, but I'm not coming to as many meetings as I can get away with.'
'I'm not going to force you,' Neville decided, 'though I think some of the older students might be disappointed.'
'They want to see what I can do,' Harry smiled, 'but I have no intention of showing them. If they want to learn something, try asking Cedric Diggory to help you, he was a Triwizard Champion too.'
'Will you at least come to the first meeting?'
'I'll come to the first one, and whichever one you want to learn the Patronus in, but that's all,' Harry told him firmly. 'I don't have time to waste, Nev, Voldemort's not going to wait for me to get stronger.'
'I understand,' Neville answered, splitting off towards the common room before his Herbology class began. 'I'll see you at dinner.'
Harry nodded and continued off towards Myrtle's bathroom. Salazar would be pleased, he'd taken a big step towards improving his legilimency, and he hoped to have a plan in place for when he could do something about that prophecy.
'Myrtle?' Harry called quietly.
'Harry,' she cried, zipping out of her cubicle and across the flooded bathroom floor to hover in front of him.
'How have you been?' He asked gently. 'You haven't been here the last few times I've come.'
'I don't spend all my time here, Harry,' she giggled, 'there's all sort of interesting places to go. I saw that red-headed boy you came here with in the second year in the prefect's bathroom a few days ago. He has freckles everywhere.' She giggled again and winked.
That is a truly horrific image.
Harry shook his head to try and get rid of it. 'I'm glad you've been having fun, Myrtle.'
'Nobody has come looking around here,' she told him in a whisper, 'but nobody ever comes in here except you anyway.'
'Thanks, Myrtle,' he flashed her a smile, opening the entrance to the chamber.
'What is down there?' She asked, curiously.
'Nothing anywhere near as interesting as the Prefect's Bathroom I assure you,' Harry grinned. 'Just what's left of a very big, dead snake and some space to think.'
He gingerly made his way across the puddle that permanently covered the floor of the bathroom, picking up his robes so they didn't get wet around the bottom, and with a wave to Myrtle disappeared down the stairs towards the chamber.
'I'm back,' he called out to Slytherin's portrait.
'So it would seem,' the reply came as Harry crossed the bridge into Salazar's study.
'I need to speak to Sirius,' he told the founder, 'but afterwards I have a few questions. I've been a bit lazy since escaping the fate that should come with having been Riddle's horcrux.'
'Yes you have,' the portrait agreed, 'but you've deserved it, after everything that's happened.'
Harry shot him a grateful look and deposited the invisibility cloak on the back of the chair, it's normal home. He'd brought Sirius' mirror down here as soon as he could sneak it out of the dormitory unnoticed, it was much easier to hold a private conversation down here.
As long as I remember to go outside and shut the door to the study, that is.
'Sirius,' he breathed onto the mirror, walking back over the bridge and sitting down in the dark of one of the alcoves where he couldn't see Harry's surroundings.
It flared white for a long minute, then his godfather's face appeared in the mirror.
'Harry,' he smiled, displaying a mouthful of sparkling white teeth. He was looking a lot healthier than last time they'd talked. His cheeks were no longer sunken and his hair and regained some lustre. The shadows under his eyes remained, but they were no longer as thick or dark.
'How have you been?' Harry asked. 'Cleaned out the whole house yet?'
'No,' Sirius grumbled. 'Gave up a few days back when I discovered that Kreacher was just keeping every single artefact we tried to throw away.'
'Kreacher?'
'House-elf,' Sirius explained. 'He comes with the house, he knows too much for us to free him now.'
'So what are you doing if you aren't tidying?'
'I'm organising the members of the Order who help out down at the Department of Mysteries,' he answered carelessly, then winced at his slip.
Now that sounds interesting.
'What's down there?' Harry inquired curiously.
'Sorry, Harry,' Sirius pulled a disconsolate face, 'Dumbledore was adamant about not telling you anything. I disagreed, but I was outvoted.'
'If it involves me then I deserve to know,' Harry pointed out.
'I'm on your side,' Sirius told him earnestly, 'but I gave them my word not to talk about anything you hadn't already been briefed on.'
'Well our conversations are going to be short,' Harry responded acidly, 'since nobody wants to tell me anything. I haven't even spoken to Dumbledore all year. I nearly killed a student and he sent me a note telling me I have detention.'
'I heard about that,' Sirius grinned. 'That Malfoy kid probably deserved it, especially if he's anything like his father.'
'He's a lot like his father,' Harry ground out, still annoyed. He'd hoped to find out about Dumbledore's plans from his godfather.
'You should have finished him off then,' Sirius commented darkly. 'One less potential Death Eater. We learnt that in the first war, you spare someone you think deserves it, then they turn around and murder the wizard next to you.'
'Malfoy would make a very poor Death Eater,' Harry snorted. 'He doesn't have the guts to do anything more than run his mouth.'
'You'd be surprised,' Sirius warned. 'Lucius doesn't seem like all that much either, all pretty robes and words, but I have it on good authority that he's quite a handful in a duel, he curses first, claims the Imperius Curse made him do it later.' His godfather laughed at his slightly dark joke. 'What are you doing at Hogwarts? Carried out any nefarious plans that I'd be proud of?'
Oh yes, Harry tried not to grin, but you might not be so proud of them.
'You can't smile like that and stay silent,' Sirius told him testily, 'spill.'
'I got Umbridge again,' he told his godfather calmly. Harry was fairly sure that Sirius was a firm believer in an eye for an eye. He hadn't been particularly quick to hand Pettigrew over to the aurors.
'What did you do?'
'She had an enchanted quill that she uses to make students write lines with,' Harry began, his tone darkening. 'It used to take the blood of the user to write with.' Sirius' smile froze.
'That woman has been torturing students,' he exclaimed. 'I'm going to murder Dumbledore, he said everything is in hand.'
'She won't be doing it again, not if she's learnt her lesson.'
'What did you do to her?' His godfather demanded. 'I hope it was bad.'
'I changed the enchantments on the quill,' Harry smiled faintly, 'it changed its source of ink to the creator rather than the user. She's been wearing a bandage around her hand today.'
Sirius looked slightly disturbed, but eventually nodded. 'If it's stopped her using that thing on students then good, sometimes you can't always do what Dumbledore preaches and win by being nice or noble.'
'She banned me from playing quidditch for life,' Harry remarked. 'That was for cursing Malfoy.'
'I read about that, do you know if she can she actually enforce that?' Sirius asked.
'She can certainly stop me playing at school, but other than that I've no idea,' Harry replied. 'If the law is as malleable as it seems I'm sure she could just get Fudge to create another Decree stopping me from playing.'
'Molly as furious about the twins being banned,' Sirius mentioned. 'I've never seen her so angry, took me and Arthur to stop her sending howlers out to everyone involved.'
'They were banned for retaliating after Crabbe hit a bludger at Katie when she was sitting in the stands. I had to carry her to the hospital wing.'
'I heard Crabbe had to go to St Mungo's.'
'I've no idea.' Harry hadn't actually seen Crabbe since he's gone bouncing across the quidditch pitch. 'He deserved it either way.'
'Speaking of people who deserved things,' Sirius' smile grew savage, 'I heard that it's Pettigrew's body that pair of french girls found on Hogwarts' grounds.'
French girls?
Harry made a mental note to ask Fleur about that, he hadn't known that Pettigrew had been discovered by Beauxbatons' students.
'We can't prove your innocence now,' Harry reminded him.
'I don't care,' Sirius growled. 'They wouldn't have let me have a trial anyway, I should never have let Remus talk me out of just killing him when we were back in the Shrieking Shack.'
'He's dead now,' Harry responded bluntly.
'You don't look all that surprised,' Sirius remarked.
'I already knew,' Harry told him, 'it came up at Voldemort's resurrection.' His godfather sniggered at the offhand remark.
The muffled sound of Salazar yelling for him to hurry up so he could learn something before having to go back to the dormitories managed to reach not only Harry, but his godfather too.
'I'd better go,' he apologised.
'It does sound like something's happening,' Sirius noted, 'lots of shouting about something.'
'We'll talk again soon,' Harry promised, 'maybe I'll have been briefed by then.'
He had a slight hope that if he knew a little more about the prophecy he might be able to persuade his godfather to talk about it and even help him.
'See you soon, Harry,' Sirius grinned, then Harry found himself staring at his own reflection again.
He summoned the bridge, and opened the door to the study, stalking angrily inside.
'Did you have to interrupt?' Harry demanded.
'You don't have time to waste,' Salazar reminded him, 'Riddle's biding his time and building up his power, not chatting to people through enchanted mirrors. Now what were your questions?'
'I need to get a lot better at duelling,' Harry told his ancestor, remembering how the graveyard had dissolved into shattered fragments of stone and flying curses the moment Voldemort had stopped toying with him.
'Can you defend your mind?' Slytherin asked instead of answering Harry's unvoiced query.
'Yes.' Snape had been repulsed completely.
'What about your legilimency?'
'I've convinced Neville to let me teach him,' Harry told the founder, 'and I'm starting to get good at creating a connection of the right strength. I can send concepts and images if I want to easily enough too.'
'You've tested it, haven't you?' The painting's tone was faintly disapproving.
'It was worth the risk,' Harry assured him.
'You weren't caught,' the portrait replied evenly, 'so it doesn't matter.'
'And duelling?' Harry prompted.
'There are ways to improve yourself to give an advantage,' Salazar told him. 'Your eyesight is a weakness, your glasses could easily be exploited by an unscrupulous foe, and your reflexes and strength could be improved by a ritual or two.'
'More rituals?' Harry was rather less bothered by that than he had expected he would be. It didn't feel wrong anymore, they weren't dark, nothing was dark, and it was hardly cheating to want to live.
'Yes,' the painting answered. 'We'll need to use blood as a medium for the best effect, and you'll have to get your hands on some magical ingredients which have the ability to enhance certain things. We can create our own ritual to keep the effects permanently using blood magic.'
'What will the sacrifice be?' Harry asked warily.
'Nothing too dear,' Slytherin reassured him gently. 'Time. Blood. Pain. All things you can afford to give and not regret afterwards.'
'What will I need?'
'Wormwood and Bayberry, they will provide the source for fixing your eyes, unicorn horn, or hair, something of a highly magical creature to imbue your items with, you will need enough for two rituals, and then a griffin's claw and Salamander's blood with which to improve your physical body.'
'Will that be enough?'
Slytherin laughed bitterly. 'It is never enough, I can assure you of that, but while the former will simply fix your eyesight, the latter will certainly give you an edge over most other wizards.'
'I just have to find that list?' Harry asked.
'You'll need a lot of blood too,' Salazar warned, 'best to do them separately. Your eyesight is the most pressing concern.'
'I don't think I'm going to be finding many of those things just lying around,' Harry pointed out. 'I might be able to buy some of them,' he gestured at the bag of galleons he'd won from the Triwizard Tournament, but something tells me they won't come cheap.'
'In the meantime think about what your strengths and weaknesses are,' Salazar suggested. 'Create your own style that plays to these. What do you remember from duelling Voldemort?'
'He was fast,' Harry replied immediately, 'he was bloody fast, I couldn't even think the incarnations as fast he was casting them.'
'Practise turning one wand-motion into the next, the flick of the wrist for the Blasting Curse can easily transition into the curve of the Bone-Splintering curse.' Slytherin peered down at him expectantly. 'What else?'
'He deflected almost everything I sent at him that was blockable,' Harry remembered with a scowl. He'd not really even come close to touching him, not even at the end when he managed to break through his shield with what was his strongest spell.
'Mastering how to deflect hexes would combine very well with your,' Salazar paused in disgust, 'ridiculous butterfly conjuring defence. You can use those ridiculous insects to swallow curses like the Killing Curse and deflect anything else back out at your opponents. Almost anything that isn't an Unforgivable can be deflected, or at least blocked, by a proficient, practised duellist.'
'I'll practise,' Harry promised. He could practise at least some of it with Fleur when he visited in a few days time. She'd be more than happy to teach him how to deflect hexes by sending mild jinxes his way. Gabrielle probably would too.
'You'll die if you don't,' Salazar told him bluntly, cutting right through his surge of motivation.
'Thanks,' Harry responded dryly. 'I'm going to go to the library and research those ingredients, if I'm lucky they're in some of the potions taught here and I can simply steal them from Snape.'
'You'll need them whole, not ground, powdered, or preserved in any fashion,' Slytherin warned as he left. That pretty much ruled out Snape's potion's stores.
He hoped they sold all of it in Diagon Alley. He was fairly sure that he could find Salamander's blood, and the magical plants there, but a whole griffin's claw seemed a less likely prospect. Harry really didn't want to go and have to wrestle a griffin for one of its talons, so he committed to hoping instead.
Hope wasn't so hard for him to find anymore. He had his plans, his power, both growing unseen by either Riddle, the Ministry or Dumbledore, and he had Neville, Katie and Fleur beside him.
Things are beginning to go my way, Harry mused, as the Chamber of Secrets slid closed behind him.
AN: Please read and review, thanks to everyone who does.
