Harry Potter and the Physical Adept

Chapter 22: Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice

Luna Lovegood, or Dia Potter, as she sometimes liked to think of herself, woke gently, warm and cozy in the fluffy bed she shared with Gideon and Liv. Her life at Hogwarts since the Christmas holiday had been like a wonderful dream, a return to a time when her family was whole, before mummy passed and daddy became awful.

Yawning and languidly stretching like a cat as she shrugged off the covers, she sat up and looked around; neither her new dad or sister could be seen, but she could smell the food being cooked, and immediately glanced over towards the side of the room to see the magical trunk containing Harry's commercial kitchen sat with its lid was open, light pouring out of it into the otherwise darkened bedroom.

Clearly, Harrison and Liv were preparing breakfast, so it'd be ready for when they got back from their daily morning exercise regimen, and from the delicious smell wafting through the air, it was a combination of miso shiru, yakizakana and rice.

Climbing off the mattress, she stretched both arms towards the ceiling, then pulled on a pair of knickers, a T-shirt she had stolen from Wolfgang, and some shorts, before slipping into a pair of rainbow ankle socks. Stripping the bedding from where she and her family slept, she carried them over to the washing machine Harry had plugged into the petrol generator and customized with a variety of runes, precious metals and gemstones, stuffing the sheets, blankets, pillows and pillowcases into the opening before pouring in laundry detergent, dropping the lid and turning on the machine just like Phoenix had shown her.

Along with dusting and vacuuming, laundry was her chore; with the room warded by glyphs and runes etched into the walls and covered with posters and wallpaper, no visitor could intrude upon the room without permission, meaning the family of three had to clean their own living arrangements, and those were the chores that fell to Luna.

Going to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face, Luna saw that it had been freshly cleaned, one of her sister's chores, and momentarily wondered where she found time to do it in between classes, homework, video games, working out, snuggling, practicing her skills, reading, pillow fights, cooking, and playing around with magic.

Ambling out of the bathroom, she saw Amadeus and Liv had finished making breakfast and were waiting for her.

"Good morning," Luna said brightly, a cheerful smile on her lips as she crossed over to her sister and gave her a big hug.

"Mornin' Lulu," said the dragon-in-girl's-form, calling her sister by the nickname only she used before kissing her affectionately on the forehead. "Sleep well?"

"Like a baby, Leelee," said the blonde, using her own term of endearment for the dragon.

"You do know babies sleep like drek, right?" Tolliver said, as he handed her a freshly-made burrito wrapped in foil.

"What?" Luna asked, confused, even as she bit into her pre-workout snack.

"Babies are notoriously horrible sleepers," the boy explained. "They wake up repeatedly, shit and piss themselves, and need to be fed several times. If you slept like a baby, you barely got any at all; it's why new parents are so often just exhausted all the time."

"I didn't know that," Luna admitted, swallowing her food. "I slept like the dead?"

"That works, I suppose," said Jacoby. "Though I do feel I should point out that the dead usually don't wake back up. Unless they're undead, like Pace was. Is. Was.

"So, you ready, Dia?"

"Always!"

"That's my girl."

~ooOoo~

Susan Bones awoke with a start and a sharp gasp, jerking upright as a fit of violent coughing overtook her, shaking her entire frame.

Already, the fragments of the nightmare were beginning to fade from her memories, but her pajamas were still soaked in cold sweat, and she could feel the tightness in her throat, like she had been strangled.

"Horologium," the brunette whispered, one hand on her wand as she cast the time-telling charm taught to all first-year students, not wanting to wake her sleeping roommate where she laid across the room, her breathing deep and rhythmic as her chest rose and fell under the covers.

In the corner of her eye, a clock appeared at the tip of her wand; it took her sleep-deprived mind a moment to comprehend its hands, but she realized it was almost five-thirty.

She only had thirty minutes to get ready for her daily morning self-defense course with Harry, Liv and Luna.

In a hurry, she scurried out of her bed and into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, she stepped in and immediately yelped as the cold water hit her skin, waking her completely in a split instant.

It took a minute, but soon, the water was piping hot, and she began to scrub herself vigorously with a bar of soap; even after almost two months after what had happened, she still felt like she couldn't get clean, no matter how much she scrubbed herself raw.

Climbing out of the shower, she toweled herself dry, then dressed herself in attire appropriate for her self-defense lessons, before opening a box of vanilla cupcakes she had bought from Faye Dunbar, one of the people who always seemed to cross paths with Harry Potter.

Peeling back the paper liner, she bit into the cake. It was a snack for before the workout, because breakfast was not served in the Great Hall before eight.

~ooOoo~

Hermione Granger groaned softly as her clock alarm dragged her back into the land of consciousness. It felt like she had barely just gone to bed, and already the alarm had interrupted her sleep.

"Turn it off," groaned Su-Jin from across the room, and the bushy-haired Ravenclaw felt a thrown pillow strike her bed, bouncing off her covers and landing on the floor.

Groggily, she reached over and pushed the button on the clock, silencing the klaxon call.

Peering over at the red on black numbers, it took a moment for her bleary eyes to comprehend the digits and their meanings. Then, she sat bolt upright.

It was already five-fifty-three, which meant Harry would have already been up nearly an hour, and Hermione could ill afford to let him get any further ahead.

It was time to start revising again; the Easter holiday was already upon them, which meant the end-of-term exams were only a little more than a month away, and she still couldn't shake the feeling her best friend was still outworking her.

~ooOoo~

Fay Dunbar bit into a brownie she had baked the previous afternoon, part of a batch she had made without any cannabis included, a special request from a fifth-year Hufflepuff who had wanted the fudgy treats for a tea party, but didn't want the little special something that usually came baked in the chocolate brownies she and Neville sold.

Looking out her bedroom window, she could see the rain beating against the outer wall of Gryffindor Tower, the sky a drab grey that made the day seem gloomy. Checking her notes on sale patterns she had started to collect on her own initiative, Fay reminded herself that, on days such as these, students would want something hot and warm, which meant she could once again take advantage of one of the recipes she had found in Harry's book of recipes, something his friend Tori had called a "pumpkin pie spice mix", a mixture of powdered cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger and cloves, all things Harry had stocked away in his pantry.

While hot chocolate could certainly be had in the Great Hall, only she and Neville supplied Hogwarts with a pumpkin spiced variety, a very popular drink among the students on days such as these; the first time she had tried it, she had to admit it was very much like a hot, chocolate and pumpkin flavored milkshake she could drink in the middle of the day, and it too had become one of her favorite beverages to have on a cold day.

*beep*

"Whiplash, Wildfire. Pilgrim and I are going to need to pick up the kitchen earlier today, maybe around seven, over."

There was a pause as Fay awaited a response. Then,

*beep*

"Wild? Whip. Call me again at oh-seven-thirty with the room number you're in, and I'll bring the kitchen, over."

*beep*

"Wilco. Out."

With classes out of session for the week, students were likely to sleep in, which meant the breakfast rush would be less a deluge and more a slow and steady flow, as those attending Hogwarts filtered in and out of the Great Hall as they pleased without the pressure of being in class on time.

It was going to be a busy morning.

~ooOoo~

Susan slapped away one of Luna's reaching hands with one of her own, fully aware the younger girl was trying to create an opening with which she could be taken to the ground, the part of self-defense where she was still the weakest.

Slipping to the left as the first-year pawed a lazy jab at her head, she immediately dug two, quick hooking punches into the younger girl's side, drawing grunts of pain as knuckles found flesh and forcing her sparring partner to retreat.

Spurred on by her opponent being forced back because of the body blows she landed, Susan surged forward with a flurry of wild, looping punches, winging them with bad intentions as she threw them with full force, landing fists on forearms, biceps and shoulders as Luna covered up to protect herself.

Suddenly, the younger girl dropped out of her eyeline, and Susan immediately realized she was in trouble even before she felt the impact of a shoulder being driven into her stomach, her legs being pulled out from under her as the blonde tackled her to the floor of the classroom they were using for the training due to the pouring rain outside.

As her back hit the hard stone, Susan felt the shock of the impact jar her spine and growled in pain, but she hooked her legs around Luna's back, preventing her from standing up or moving away, then grabbed her by the front of her shirt, swinging an elbow upwards at the blonde's face and forcing her to lean backwards to avoid the blow.

That was the opening she needed; unhooking one leg from around Luna's back, Susan quickly drew it in and slipped her heel up against the younger girl's hip, forcefully shoving her off with a swift kick, then scrambled back to her feet, bringing her hands up in a defensive stance, a faint smile forming on her lips as she began to stalk towards the smaller girl.

Hitting things always made her feel better, and she could do that now she was off of her back.

~ooOoo~

Myla Bletchley checked her watch. It read "7:14 AM".

One of the few benefits of being the only half-blood in Slytherin was no girl wanted to room with her, which gave her the benefit of having an entire room to herself, and though she absolutely hated the green motif and the fact it was located in the dungeons, she had to admit that having her own room had its advantages, like there being no roommate to know when she was getting up, nor any to tattle about her use of muggle items, like her watch.

Thus, nobody in Slytherin knew just how much work it had taken her to become the best Keeper the house had seen in more than two decades. Then again, when practically the entire house coasted on their "natural" talents, willingness to bend the rules (if not outright break them), familial connections and ability to blame others for their own errors, she understood why they couldn't imagine hard work being involved in anything in their lives.

She, however, did not have their familial connections, and her mother had taught her to take responsibilities for her own failures, while her father, who had pulled himself up by his bootstraps to become a successful furniture maker, combining his love for sculpture with a practical and financially viable outlet for his creativity, had shown her the importance of a good work ethic and being a self-starter.

Myla didn't even like Quidditch, but she had thought during her second year in Slytherin that maybe, if she was good enough to become a regular member of the team, her housemates might deem her worthy enough to speak to.

She had been wrong, of course; outside of the Quidditch team during practice and games, they continued to ignore her when they weren't whispering about her behind her back, even when she was in their presence and could hear them talking, and it had made her miserable. But once she was a regular, if she ever stopped being one, her existence in Slytherin would be even more agonizing.

In fact, nobody at Hogwarts except for the staff had ever really talked to her until just this December past, and she had been exceptionally surprised when that first person had been Harry Potter, of all people.

But not nearly as surprised as when she felt the hand on her shoulder as she came out of the Slytherin Dungeon.

Spinning, she exhaled in relief when she recognized the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Hiding in the dark and ambushing a witch is a good way to get hexed, Potter," she said.

"I could always just break your wrist," the Hufflepuff retorted almost too casually.

"What do you want? I need to practice."

"Come with me. It'll only take a minute or two."

"Why?"

"It's a surprise."

"I don't like the sound of that."

Myla followed the Hufflepuff up a flight of stairs and down a hall, then stopped when he pushed open the door to a girls' bathroom and started to let himself inside.

"This better not be what I think it is."

"I'm not trying to shag you."

"Why do I feel like I should feel insulted?"

"Are you coming in or not?"

The Slytherin followed the Hufflepuff into the restroom, then froze as he pushed his cane up against the door and it stayed in place when he let go of it, floating in mid-air.

"Potter…"

"Give me a second," said the boy, holding up a finger as he dug around in his haversack; after a moment, he pulled out a crumpled ball of cloth and tossed it across the room. "Here you go."

Myla caught the thrown object and disentangled it, revealing a balaclava. "Why?"

"Put it on."

The Slytherin looked at the Hufflepuff like he was insane, but relented, if only to humor him.

"All right, look in the mirror and imagine anybody else's face," said the boy, once Myla had gotten the ski mask over her face.

The girl considered the boy's words as she looked in the mirror; in the moment, she remembered her mother and felt a little bit homesick.

Suddenly, she found the a reflection of her mother's face looking back at her, and she squeaked in surprise, her mind racing for an instant before settling on the face of Sigourney Weaver, one of her favorite stars, particularly in Alien and Aliens, which her father had shown her despite her mother's misgivings.

That was the face staring back at her.

"What is this?" she asked, turning to the Hufflepuff, who grimaced.

"Sigourney Weaver is not a good look on you," he said. "You're about a half-foot too short."

"Thanks, but that doesn't answer my question."

"It's, uh, well, a balaclava of disguise," explained the Boy-Who-Lived. "Just think of any face, even if it's imaginary, and that's the face the mask will project."

"But why?"

"Remember when I said we could be friends when nobody else was around to notice? This would let us be friends even if people were around, as long as they don't realize it's you."

"Where did you even get this?"

"Made it myself."

"I don't believe you."

"Why not?"

"There isn't a student here at Hogwarts who could make something this advanced."

"Fine. I got it from Wizarding Supplies."

"They sell this there?"

"No, but you don't believe me when I tell you I made it."

"Come on, Potter, if you could make this, you wouldn't be failing Charms or Transfiguration."

The Boy-Who-Lived shrugged. "Next time, if you're going to use a star, you should try Liza Minnelli."

"Who?"

"Liza Minnelli. Actress, was in Cabaret and Arthur? She's more your height."

"Uh… thanks?"

"Null sweat, chummer."

Then, he was gone, taking his cane with him.

~ooOoo~

"That'll be four sickles," Fay said, and Hermione handed her the coins and the tankard from the previous day, receiving a freshly steaming tankard of pumpkin spiced hot chocolate and a sack of snickerdoodle cookies in exchange.

The drink was just the right temperature, the first sip warming her up from the inside, and she placed the cookies in her handbag, a purchase she had made over Christmas break with allowance money she had saved over the years.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" the bushy-haired girl shouted, as a third-year Asian girl in bronze and blue nearly walked into her, her nose buried in a book.

After nearly falling to her death by walking into an empty stairway, Hermione had finally learned the dangers of walking and reading, but it seemed it was not a lesson many, if not most, of her housemates were particularly familiar with.

Taking another sip of the pumpkin pie-flavored hot chocolate, Hermione was reminded it was time to rendezvous with Harry and get a fresh battery for the two-way radio she carried; having already met Harry earlier in the day to borrow his kitchen, Fay and Neville must have already gotten fully-charged batteries already for their walkie-talkies, so now it was her turn.

Besides, she had acquired some information he would probably find interesting.

*beep*

"Whiplash Hunter, this is Danger Wells," Hermione said, all while briskly walking away from the Great Hall. "Where are you and what are you doing? Over."

There was a brief silence. Then, a response.

*beep*

"Danger, Whip. Six-fourteen. R&D. Over."

*beep*

"Whiplash Hunter, I'm on my way. Out."

It took Hermione a good ten minutes to get to the room Harry had taken up for the afternoon, with several forced detours as stairs moved themselves as she tried to ascend them; when she finally arrived, she cautiously knocked on the door, not wanting to interrupt anything delicate.

"Come in," came Harry's voice through the heavy wood.

Entering the room, Hermione nearly froze when she saw Harry in just his pants, slowly doing what she thought might be tai chi from the few times she had seen some pensioners performing it in the public park near her home. With his athletic build, well-defined muscles and square jaw, Harry looked particularly yummy in the moment as he flowed from one movement to the next.

Suddenly, the memory of Harry admitting to having an erotic dream about her rushed back into her mind unbidden. Biting her lip at the thought of the admission, she realized her knickers had suddenly become moist, blood rushing to her cheeks when she realized she was having sexy thoughts about her best friend, even if boys with tattoos usually weren't her type.

"What're you doing?" she asked.

"Trying to find my qi," the Hermetic mage responded.

"That's not real," the Ravenclaw protested.

"You didn't think magic was either until you got a visit from a real-life witch," shrugged the boy.

"Why, though?"

"It'd be nice to have another tool in my box," Harry said, as he finally looked at the girl with bushy brown hair. Nodding towards a desk nearby, he added, "Battery's over there."

Wordlessly, Hermione changed the battery in her radio, then thumbed the button to transmit.

*beep*

"Radio check, over."

Nearby, Harry's walkie-talkie beeped.

"Radio check, over," it echoed in her voice.

*beep*

"Danger? Rook. I read you five-by-five. Over."

*beep*

"Mayhem Rook, it's Danger Wells," Hermione answered. "Thank you. Out."

Silence hung in the air as Hermione tried to surreptitiously watch Harry exercise, wanting to commit to memory the image before her for when she was back in the privacy of her own room. If he could have an erotic dream about her, it was only fair she could do the same and more, she reasoned to herself, even as the very thought made her cheeks flush.

"You all right?" Harry asked. "Catch a cold or something? You look really red."

"I'm fine," said the Ravenclaw, nearly stumbling over her words as her mind tried to find a way to change the subject. "Oh! I almost forgot! I developed a new spell."

"Yeah?" asked the Hermetic mage, suddenly stopping. "Show me."

"Oh, you'll find out," Hermione said, taking a padlock her mum had owled her out of her pocket. "I'm about to cast it."

The Ravenclaw closed her eyes, imagining the pins holding the lock in place being pushed upwards by an invisible force, allowing the cylinder to turn ever-so-slightly as each was pushed out of the way, until it was freed of every pin and turned smoothly.

"Rego terram," she whispered.

With a click, the lock popped open, and the girl smiled broadly.

"You're taking too long to cast it," the Hermetic mage criticized. "And closing your eyes to do so gives it right away."

"I'd like to see you do better," Hermione huffed, locking the padlock.

"Sure," Harry said. Without pausing, he said, "Muto terram," and the padlock immediately clicked unlocked in the girl's hands.

"What? How?" the Ravenclaw gasped. "And why is your incantation different than before?"

"I rebuilt the spell when I realized I could make the visualization easier," the Hermetic mage explained. "Let me guess, you're imagining in your head all the mechanisms of the lock working the way it normally would if you were unlocking it with a key or lockpicks?"

"Of course," the girl said. It was obvious that was how it had to be done.

"Nowadays, when I cast knock, I just use a state change for the lock, from 'locked' to 'unlocked', which is why I now use 'muto' instead of 'rego', since I'm straight up changing the lock instead of trying to control it."

"But that's not how things work!" Hermione protested. "They don't just change like that!"

"It clearly is," Harry countered. "The fact it works is proof enough."

The Ravenclaw mulled over the revelation for a moment before sighing. "I don't get it."

The Hermetic mage shrugged. "I have every confidence you'll figure it out."

Hermione was not happy with her best friend's disregard towards what she felt was the rules of how the world worked. Things couldn't just change states of being… could they?

Then again, the things Harry did often openly defied common sense. Who else would adopt a dragon for a daughter, or use Rita Skeeter to discredit a famous author?

Still, there was one more order of business to take care of.

"I think I've found the location of the Chamber of Secrets, or at least an entrance to it," the Ravenclaw told the Hufflepuff.

"Yeah? Where is it?" Harry asked, almost too casually.

"Not so fast," Hermione said, betting on Harry's ulterior motives. "What do I get out of it?"

"Well, if I put down the basilisk and close the Chamber of Secrets, the school will be safe," offered the Hermetic mage.

"Harry, we both know you're not doing it to make Hogwarts safe again," the Ravenclaw said. "Basilisk parts are very valuable, and I know you know that, seeing how you have basilisk-hide gloves. How'd you even get them?"

"I'd rather not say," said the boy opaquely.

"What did you have to do to get them? Something illegal? Immoral? Embarrassing?"

"Yes."

"That's not an answer."

"It's close enough to one."

"Well, what's the customary finder's fee? Fifteen percent?"

"Ten to fifteen, yeah."

"Well, I'll tell you where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is, but only if you agree to give me fifteen percent of the basilisk," Hermione proposed.

"I'll take it," Harry said, and the two shook on it. "So where is it?"

"The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is hidden away in the girls' bathroom on the second floor, the one haunted by the ghost of Myrtle Warren," Hermione disclosed.

"And how do you know this?" asked the Hermetic mage.

"I've been working on befriending Myrtle's ghost since we came back from Christmas holiday," said the Ravenclaw. "At first, I'd drop in once or twice a week and just greet her and ask how she was doing, and then, after a few weeks, I started visiting her more often, until I'd drop in every day to just talk to her.

"After a month or so, she really started to open up, and that's when I started to surreptitiously interrogate her about her death. A few things came up, including how the last thing she remembers before dying were glowing snake eyes, which lends credence to the basilisk theory, and after a few deductions and piecing together some of the puzzle on my own, I figured out the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets had to be in that bathroom."

"I hope you're right," said the Hermetic mage. "Because there could be a fortune riding on this."

Hermione considered the possibilities the aforementioned fortune could bring her; although her family was comfortably middle class, a fresh influx of money would mean her mum and dad could finally work fewer hours and be able to spend more time at home like they said they wanted to, and it would afford her family a few more luxuries.

"I want to be there, to make sure you kill the Beast," the girl added.

"That's good, because I'll need you there to tell me which wall to blow," the boy agreed.

"Which wall to blow?"

"Well, I don't know how to open the Chamber of Secrets. Do you?"

"No…"

"Then, we'll blow the entrance with explosives."

"Wouldn't that cause a disturbance?"

"Not with plastique; I should be able to shape it to produce minimal vibrations."

Hermione frowned. She had not expected Harry to suggest the use of explosive ordnance to get into the Chamber of Secrets, but she had also not thought through how they would otherwise open the Chamber.

"Give me some time to research how we might be able to open it without taking down a wall?" asked the Ravenclaw.

"Fine, but if you don't have a solution by the time we're going, I will blow the wall."

~ooOoo~

"Hoi, chummer."

Zhang Qiu would recognize the voice anywhere, if only because only Harry Potter would use those words in that combination.

"Hey, Harry," she said, turning towards the Hufflepuff.

"Nǐ hǎo ma?" he asked, as he fell into step besides her.

"Wǒ hěn hǎo de. Nǐ ne?"

The Hufflepuff didn't answer in words, instead raising one hand, palm downwards, and gave a half-shrug with his other shoulder.

Harry Potter flummoxed Zhang Qiu. She knew boys thought she was pretty; attracting the attentions of Cedric Diggory, among others, was proof enough of that, yet, the Boy-Who-Lived, despite their frequent flirting during gaming club, seemed completely oblivious to her charms and showed no real interest in her beyond their playful banter.

"Harry, do you think I'm pretty?" she asked suddenly.

The Hufflepuff considered her for a moment, and she could feel his critical eye on her.

"Eh, you okay," was his summary judgment.

The response threw the Ravenclaw for a loop; of all of the reactions, his indifference was not one she had ever expected.

"What?" she asked, completely flabbergasted.

"I mean, by Hogwarts standards, you're up there, maybe one of the five best looking girls, depending on what you're into," he told her, "but I've seen Morgan Fairchild in The Seduction, and let me tell you, she is absolutely whiz. I mean, it was an absolute drekshow, a horrific piece of cinema that should never have been made, but I kind of understand now why people would want to see Miss Fairchild in it.

"You're all right, but you've got nothing on her. Or Mathilda May in Lifeforce. Or Elizabeth Shue in Adventures in Babysitting and Cocktail, Lisa Bonet in Angel Heart, Jennifer Beals in Flashdance, Mia Sara in Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Kelly LeBrock in Weird Science, or Carrie Fisher in The Return of the Jedi.

"You're not even Olivia Newton-John in the music video for 'Physical', or Kusanagi Motoko in the manga Ghost in the Shell."

Completely taken aback, the Ravenclaw froze as she tried to process what he had just told her.

"Well, you're no Tom Cruise or Rob Lowe either!" she finally shouted at his back.

"So that's your type?" the Boy-Who-Lived called back without stopping, much to the Ravenclaw's chagrin. "Difference between us is, I don't care."

Then, he turned the corner, leaving the Ravenclaw fuming to herself.

Oh, she would show him.

She was so angry, it never even occurred to her to ask how someone who had been frequently locked in a cupboard under the stairs according to the Prophet's articles had seen those movies.

Or watched MTV.

Or had manga, whatever that was.

~ooOoo~

Luna looked up from where she was lounging on the couch, leaning against a seated Liv, who was playing Star Fox on her Super Nintendo; she had been relaxing, doodling various creatures from her imagination on the drawing pad in her hands while watching her sister play video games on the big screen television. Even though she had been around the two of them since September, the various technologies Jacoby and Liv used still amazed her sometimes, particularly the way Liv's new video game handled the sensation of flight.

"What'cha drawing?" Wolfgang asked, as he hung up his coat.

Luna looked down at her sketches, eyes wandering over the horse with flames for its mane, creature that looked like a kangaroo with the muscles and dermal deposits of a troll from Shadowrun, a game she had taken a keen interest in the story and lore of after discovering it in Harrison's library, and a bipedal dog with its skull on the outside of its head.

She really liked drawing with the colored pencils and sketch pad Liv had gotten her as a Christmas gift; it was much more portable than paint, and less messy than charcoal.

"Just a few creatures that might be interesting if they were real," she answered, holding up the spiral-bound booklet of drawing paper to show him.

"That's pretty cool," Phoenix said after taking a look at Luna's sketches.

Then, he quickly wrote a note, sealed it in an envelope and addressed it, before returning to Luna and handing the letter to her. "Could you post this for me tomorrow at breakfast?" he asked.

The girl read the address on the front of the envelope… "Llewellyn and Haig?" she asked, surprised. "What are you ordering?"

"Well, you need a bag of some kind, since you can't carry a trunk everywhere, and Liv and I already have our own," Tolliver said, patting the haversack he almost always carried with him. "Besides, I need another trunk anyways."

"And why is that?" Luna asked, curious. If she had learned anything about Harrison since meeting him for the first time on the train, it was that he never did anything without a reason.

"Danger just disclosed the location of the Chamber of Secrets," said Gideon. "I'm going to kill the basilisk and sell it for parts, so I'll need a place to store the corpse."

"I'll watch your six," Liv volunteered.

"Appreciate it," Jacoby said with a nod.

They had clearly decided that they were going to hunt the basilisk, so there was no reason to argue about it; besides, it made sense that they'd do so.

However, there was no way she was going to let them face that kind of danger alone; she wasn't going to lose her new family, at least not without a fight.

"I'm coming too," Luna announced.

"You can't," her sister and dad objected at the same time.

"Why not?" she asked. They clearly had misgivings, so maybe she could soothe them.

Amadeus and Liv shared a look.

"I can't lose you, Lulu," Liv said. "With Bear, he showed me there were conspiracies around every corner and monsters behind every door, that the world was full of darkness and terrible people doing terrible things to people didn't deserve it, and I felt like people just weren't worth it, that there was no reason to protect them because they were such horrible creatures, even if some, like Bear and his friends at the shop, are decent and good.

"Then, I met you, and you showed me I was wrong. You're sweet, caring, a little bit quirky, and you genuinely want to help other people, and when you did everything you could to help Susan after what happened to her, you made me realize, not everybody is a monster like how Bear sees them, and most people just want to get through their day and are just hoping for nothing bad to happen to them, while trying to enjoy the small pleasures in life.

"You changed how I see the world, and if I lost you, I don't know what I'd do. Besides, who would I have tickle fights with, or cuddle with when I'm reading a book or playing video games?"

Luna took the confession in stride. "I understand that, but I still want to come," she said. "And you'll be there too, so you can make sure nothing bad happens. What about you, Wolfy?"

Wolfgang cocked his head to the side at the nickname. "That's new," he observed.

"I just made it up," Luna said. "So, why can't I go?"

"I'm responsible for you now that you're my daughter, and you have neither the technical skills nor training to take on this kind of run," Gideon said. "I can't let you go in good conscience."

"So teach me."

"It would take weeks."

"We still have two months before the end of the year," Luna said, realizing she could win the argument. "You were only at camp for six weeks, so that's more than enough time to teach me everything I'd need to know.

"Besides, you can't stop me from coming along, not without tying or locking me up, and I know you wouldn't do either. Even you have lines you won't cross."

Amadeus sighed. "I can't talk you out of this?"

"No. I've made up my mind."

"You've got to promise, though, at the first sign of real trouble, you'll get out of there."

"I promise."

"Bear…"

"Look, Liv, we can't stop her, so the best we can do is prepare her for what's to come."

"Fine, but I don't like it."

"Neither do I, but that's where we're at."

~ooOoo~

Fay inhaled from the spliff, then passed it to Neville, holding the smoke in her lungs for a long moment before exhaling it in an O-shaped ring.

She felt nothing.

It had been that way since she had gotten the Ribbon tattooed around her left bicep; no matter how much she toked or how many edibles she ate, she simply could not get to that familiar feeling that had previously came with the consumption of cannabis.

Fay liked the tattoo; she thought it made her look cool and tough, even if the process of getting it inked had hurt like Hell.

She looked over at Neville, who was eating a large slab of cannabis-free caramel turtle brownie, one Fay had made specifically because she knew he simply could not resist the combination of caramel and chocolate when he was stoned out of his mind, and smiled slightly to herself, though she envied just how easily he could get high, noting that, as always, he was not wearing his Ribbon when he wasn't going from one place or another.

She was very worried about him; ever since they began selling the edibles together at the beginning of the year, she had noticed Neville steadily gaining weight, and what started as simply a bit chubby was rapidly becoming properly pudgy. Even worse, everytime she had recently seen his Remembrall, it was an intense red that simply would not fade, like he was forgetting things and just not remembering them.

Neville passed her the spliff, and Fay took it, taking another hit from the cannabis cigarette and holding the joint between her fingers, trying to decide what to do about what was happening to her best friend as she ran her other hand through her shock of pastel purple hair.

The thing about the Ribbon, though, was it did not prevent her from getting a contact high; as Neville let out a giggle while staring at the swirling within his Remembrall in wonderment, Fay felt a wave of calm slowly flow over her.

She could do something about it another time; right now, all she needed to do was relax. In a few hours, she would have to be at Quidditch practice, despite only warming the bench as a beater, and after a busy morning selling cocoa and baked goodness, she needed to unwind, even if only for a little bit.

~ooOoo~

With her homework mostly done, Susan Bones found herself with a little bit of leisure time before when she would normally go to bed for the night.

In that single moment of idleness, she felt the intrusive thoughts she had been able to avoid up until then begin to well up in the back of her mind, and, needing something, anything, to do to keep her mind occupied, she dropped to the floor, landing on her palms and toes, slowly lowering her body until her chest nearly touched the rug beneath her before slowly pushing herself back up. It was an exercise she knew from the self-defense courses she had with Harry, Liv and Luna every morning.

"What are you doing?" asked Hannah, from where she lounged on her bed in her pyjamas.

"Just trying to take my mind off of things," Susan said, as she continued doing press ups.

"Cedric Diggory talked to me today," her roommate suddenly blurted out, giddy. "Isn't he just the most handsomest?"

In the moment, Susan wasn't sure how to respond; she hadn't thought about boys in that way ever since what had happened, and, in fact, outside of Harry Potter, she hadn't really been able to talk to any of them at all without an overwhelming sense of dread, and thus, she avoided them as much as possible.

Maybe that was because she didn't think of Harry as a boy. Harry was just… Harry.

"Isn't he just the most handsomest?" Hannah prodded dreamily.

"I don't know!" Susan snapped back, suddenly assuming a seated position on the floor facing her roommate as annoyance began to fray her composure. "Maybe I just don't like boys!"

"Then what do you like? Girls? Eww…"

"What? No! I don't like anybody!"

Her roommate, who had once been her best friend, was starting to become a real annoyance. Not like Luna, who understood her and accepted things just were how they were.

"I'm going out," Susan suddenly announced, as Hannah blabbered on about Cedric; she felt her annoyance starting to boil over into a slow, simmering rage, and she really didn't want to snap at her roommate again.

She was going for a run. A run always made her feel better, and if that failed, she could find a few Slytherins to put her fists into.

Now that would be fun.

~ooOoo~

Hermione Granger collapsed into bed; it had been a long day, full of research, revising, reading, and doing homework, and she was feeling the effects of the hard work.

How did Harry do this every single day?

She tried to figure out what he was doing differently than she was, but she never quite managed; sleep overtook her well before she even made a dent in the puzzle.

~ooOoo~

Fay Dunbar laid in the comfy coziness that was her bed, thinking about the day.

She had made so much money that morning, and although a cut of it would go to Harry, the bakery had earned more in one day even after overhead costs than what was probably in the Gringotts vault of the notoriously poor Weasleys.

Going into business with Harry had been the right move after all; with only the house elves providing food in the Great Hall during meal times, Hogwarts students were constantly looking for snacks in the periods in between, and while some had thought to bring food with them from home, purchase them whenever Hogsmeads visits were allowed, or even owl out for them, having a bakery in the castle was lucrative business, because they were the only source of fresh snacks made every day.

Sure, the cannabis-infused goodies hadn't been nearly as popular as Harry had expected and were mostly purchased by sixth- and seventh-year students, but Fay had adjusted for that, making mostly cupcakes, cookies and brownies that didn't have the extra special ingredient, and in doing so, they were still making money hand over fist.

Of course, there was Neville and his forgetfulness; though she couldn't be sure, Fay thought it might have to do with the way he was constantly baked, self-medicating to avoid the anxiety that plagued him when he wasn't. It was different than how she had toked, back when smoking could get her high; for her, weed had always been recreational, so she never really consumed it in the amounts or frequency Neville did.

She would have to talk to him about that.

But first, sleep.

~ooOoo~

Today had been a good day.

She had been able to keep the intrusive thoughts at bay, and even got to give Draco Malfoy a concussion when she had found him bullying a first-year girl in Gryffindor scarlet and gold. Getting to break Crabbe's nose and choke Goyle unconscious were just nice little bonuses.

Sure, she was given a week's detention, but it felt worth it when the girl thanked her so earnestly and profusely.

It wouldn't keep the nightmares away, but as she drifted off to sleep, Susan Bones smiled to herself, the first time in a long time.

~ooOoo~

Cuddled up against Liv, who was plush in all the right places, in her warm, fluffy bed, Luna Lovegood slowly drifted off to sleep.

Tomorrow was another day in the Easter holiday, and she was going to need all the sleep she could get, since she would be starting her training in all the other things Harrison thought she would need to know for accompanying him and her sister on their hunt for the basilisk.

What would a basilisk even look like?

Maybe if she asked nicely, it would let her draw it.

That would be pretty cool.

Shifting in the bed, she brushed up against Gideon, all lean muscle that felt like she was sleeping on a rare steak; on contact, he stirred by did not wake, his even breathing betraying his unconsciousness.

He was so cute when he slept, almost like he wasn't a secret spellcasting assassin.

Maybe she could write a story about a secret wizard assassin.

With that in mind, Luna Lovegood allowed the blackness of sleep to overcome her.

Author's Notes: Absolutely my favorite chapter to write for Physical Adept. I enjoyed using the perspective of the other characters to advance the story and show other aspects of their interactions with Harry and each other that Harry would normally skip over because it wouldn't be interesting to him; it also gave me a chance to do some character development for characters Harry doesn't necessary interact with all that much.

A work ethic is something Harry wanted to teach Liv, which is why, even at Hogwarts, where house elves normally do the chores, there's housework to be done (besides the fact Harry warded the entire room, turning it into a safe haven house elves wouldn't be able to pop into).

Apparently, Tempus is actually a fanon time-telling spell, so I decided to break from tradition and go with something that would connect more with the magical world clinging to the old instead of changing with the times. It was important to me to show that the magical world still used analog clocks for their time-telling interface, because it's immediately juxtaposed with Hermione's digital alarm clock in the next section.

I always thought of Hermione in canon as being very competitive; her need to be right and to know everything was always an extension of this, so it would only make sense for Hermione, knowing her best friend had his nose to the grindstone all the time, would want to be competitive with him with her own self-improvement.

Another D&D magical item makes an appearance, this one being a modified hat of disguise.

There's something between Hermione and Harry. I also wanted to demonstrate the rigidity of Hermione's approach versus the flexibility of Harry's. I also felt it important to give the other characters besides Harry a reason to want to move the plot forward; it'd only make sense for Hermione, who has known Harry for the better part of two years, to figure out what he's up to and want to get in on the action herself, then use her skill in data mining and analysis to make it happen.

The relationship between Zhang Qiu and Harry in Prisoner of Azkabam and Goblet of Fire always felt weird to me, and I felt like her character was just there to be a plot device, then character assassinated. Here, I wanted more depth to their relationship, even if it's mostly Harry leading her on by flirting with her, until she finally asks and gets his response, which would hurt just about anybody; it gives a better reason as to why their relationship suddenly grows colder. That said, I also wanted to demonstrate what Harry meant by "better and more", which he's used several time so far in the series when young women have asked him to leave while they're changing. Let's just say one of the Irregulars really likes their gratuitous nudity and exploitation flicks; I'm looking at you, Shaun.

Yes, those are Pokémon that Luna drew. Yes, this is before Pokémon came out in any form. Yes, this leads somewhere.

And that's the juxtaposition between Luna and Harry; Harry is hard-boiled, and Luna is genuinely a nice person. It made sense that Liv would need both of their influences to truly understand humanity.

And now, blowback and repercussions. Studies have shown that people who start abusing cannabis while very young tend to develop problems with memory and recall, among other things.

I think I might have made Hannah Abbott a little too much like a Valley girl? Also, I feel like the "ewww" reaction as appropriate for a 12-year-old in the early 90s, even though it'd be a problematic reaction today.

And sometimes, Harry is just wrong. After all, not everybody wants to get high.

Once again, many, many thanks to my long-suffering editor, Romantically Distant, for all their efforts in reading and proofing my writing. And now you've read this chapter, feel free to leave a review or just PM me, and, with the WARS pandemic still on-going, stay safe.