Chapter Eleven
Lectures

Later, when Harry accompanied Hermione to the Study of Ancient Runes, she was excited. The professor, Babbling, was supposed to be good - she was a dark-skinned woman with a thick accent, and lovely black curly hair.

Harry had seen Cecilia demonstrate and mention a couple of runic spells: spells that were drawn onto the air with runes, something much more versatile and powerful than simple wand movements and incantation. However, she was soon to discover, these were something that would only be covered partly in seventh year, so there was a lot to learn before then.

A lot to learn, as it turned out, was three new languages - or most of them. Ancient Runes was exactly that - learning the basics and grammar of runic languages, which were somehow better for magic than English. Harry really didn't understand why. What she did understand was that it was a lot of nasty, finicky memorization.

Of course, nasty, finicky memorization was exactly what Hermione loved. She absolutely loved Ancient Runes. Harry didn't really love Ancient Runes - she liked the idea of what it could give her, but the thing itself was still up in the air.

Harry plopped herself down on the lounger, in the Room, and asked, "How do I curse someone so badly that they leave me and mine alone?"

Cecilia snorted, and Harry found herself surprised by the inelegance of the expression. Her head throbbed, from the Legilimency that they'd just practiced. That was part of the reason she'd asked in the first place - she didn't want to go running to Cecilia at the first sign of trouble, after all.

"Is this a hypothetical question? Or is that Malfoy boy still at it?"

"It's Malfoy," Harry sighed.

"There is no easy answer, then. If he was that easy to ward off, you would have done so last year, when you thoroughly trounced him, both times."

Harry made a frustrated noise. "So there's nothing I can do?"

"Harriet, whining like that is unbecoming." Harry turned, and met clever, arresting eyes. "I did not say that. It is merely a thin line we must walk - something damaging enough that he will reconsider his actions, and yet, something that can avoid the notice of the lawful authorities."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It is not."

Harry rolled her eyes. "Well, go on then. Clearly, there has to be some kind of clever dark spell that will curse him and make it so he can't blab about it."

Cecilia's face went completely blank, like someone had turned off all the emotion. "You will not be using any dark magic at Hogwarts, unless it is literally a matter of life and death."

Harry gaped. "Really? After all that about the definitions of dark magic and how the classifications were 'unsatisfying?' What was that for, if you don't want me using it at all at school? You practically made me use that dark spell last time!"

There was something terrible and cold, gathering in Cecilia's eyes, like a lake icing over, in fast-forward. Her mind was turbulent, like rushing, roaring rapids. A tsunami of hate.

"Have you learned nothing, you silly little fool? Dark magic will leave irreversible marks on him. I pushed you to use that spell so you could use it on Voldemort! On Death Eaters! On psychotic criminals to stop them from murdering you! Not on some privileged schoolboy who doesn't know when to quit.

"If he shows up, cursed to hell and back, Albus Dumbledore and the rest of the teachers at this school will begin a witch hunt - literally!"

Harry flinched away. "I'm sorry. It was stupid - I should never have-"

"Get out!" Cecilia shrieked. "Don't come back until you realize just what you've proposed!"

Harry ran. It was ten minutes later, in the common room, that she finally got her hands to stop shaking.

Harry had left the diary in the Room, but she dared not return right away. In fact, it took three days and two more renditions of her fainting fit before she swallowed her fear and returned.

It also put something into horrible perspective: Cecilia might have simply been Harry's close confidant - and probably best friend - but, to Cecilia, Harry was her whole world. Even if their argument had been much worse, it wasn't in Harry to abandon Cecilia over just one fight. And, even if their differences turned out to be irreconcilable, she realized that she would not abandon the diary. She would pass it on.

It was the least she could do, for someone who had given her so much.

So, she stepped through the doors to the Room, with her heart in her throat. Cecilia turned, lowering her wand. She was standing in the middle of the circle, with the bubble of magic raised around her. A thin layer of greenish smoke filled the air, and Harry was reminded of the acrid scent of burning tobacco.

"Hello, Harriet."

"I'm sorry!" Harry blurted out. "I wasn't thinking, and you never make a big deal out of dark magic, and I guess I just...didn't think…" she trailed off awkwardly.

"I am also sorry," Cecilia said. Her tone was grave, and she even gave a small curtsey. "I stand by my point, but the way I articulated it was needlessly antagonistic and unkind."

Harry narrowed her eyes. "I don't know if I can forgive you if you're going to use so many big words."

Cecilia's eyebrow ticked upwards. "Funny. Pot, meet kettle. You have a suspiciously good vocabulary, for a thirteen-year-old."

She shrugged. "I read as a kid. It was one of the few things that the Dursleys didn't object to - kept me out of the way, and quiet."

"I see. The orphanage was similar," Cecilia said, with a faraway look. "I do not think it is wise to use dark magic against your classmates. Against a Death Eater, I wholeheartedly support it, but there are better ways to humble Malfoy."

"Oh?" Harry asked. "Like what?"

"The easiest and likely most effective answer is Legilimency. However, it is not something we could do today, or even soon. It would require a fine control that you have not quite mastered, yet."

"Right. I'd expected that." She glanced at Cecilia, shrewdly. "There was something else, though. Snape, the Potions professor, caught me out using Legilimency. Apparently he's got a talent too. He read my mind, but he didn't seem to notice you. Care to explain?"

Cecilia was suspiciously still. She folded her arms, very deliberately. A hint of danger in the pose.

"I took steps, to ensure my presence would not be… noticed. You would almost certainly be in Azkaban, if I had not." Cecilia sounded almost defensive.

"I thought this ritual wasn't going to be doing anything like that," Harry said.

"It's not that," Cecilia corrected. Something sharp was in her tone, a discordant note. "It's in the diary itself." She glanced, over at Harry, cool eyes flinty. "I have no intention of being destroyed."

Harry took a deep breath. It was cold and it was deceptive, and she'd wished that Cecilia had told her about it, but there was more to it than that - Snape would not have hesitated to turn her in.

"There are no shortcuts to learning Legilimency, then?"

"No. We are on track to do so, but I am afraid that I can offer no simple solution for you here. We can continue to learn creative and cruel hexes to dissuade him again."

"Oh?" Harry asked. "I like learning hexes."

"Perhaps a consistent stream of painful and debilitating spells will teach him a useful lesson. Here, we are not going to concern ourselves with the utility of spells - you have said that you are, by now, far more skilled than Malfoy, at magic."

"Good."

"First, we will start with the Hair-Removal Hex. It is unusual, because there are two different wand motions. One configuration makes the removal temporary, while another makes it permanent," Cecilia explained.

Harry grinned, bouncing on her heels. "So I can permanently curse Malfoy's hair off?"

"Yes. I would not advise using that version on his head hair, as that will invite too much reprisal. But that doesn't mean you can't use the permanent version on… other places." Cecilia had a strange look on her face - a wry tilt of her mouth that Harry couldn't quite decipher. "I can speak from experience that if Malfoy is anything like his grandfather, he has very girly legs, once they're hairless."

Harry laughed - the sound surprising even her, considering she sounded half-hysterical. "Girly?" she asked.

Cecilia made a show of brushing dirt off her shoulder. "Of course. Sometimes, men need to be reminded that women are not inferior. Abraxas Malfoy took a few reminders, to learn that lesson. The incantation is Evanus Cappilus." She demonstrated both wand movements - a small cross, and a thin V.

"Alright," Harry said, copying her motions. "Thanks. I suppose that's much easier than shaving, huh?"

"Yes," Cecilia agreed. "Magic is truly a wonderful thing. Now, next, the Nail-Removing Hex. This one is far more painful, rather than humiliating."

She demonstrated, and Harry copied the motions. "That looks painful," she remarked.

"Well, yes, and it's annoying, to have no fingernails. Finally, let's learn one more. Hmm… how about the Kneecap-Reversing Jinx? Seems like it might help, in case he tries to get away."

"Lovely," Harry said. "I like the way your mind works."

Lupin perpetually seemed tired - now, he was even more so. "Harriet, please."

Harry sighed and looked up from her reading. "Yes, professor?"

"How would you defeat a Red Cap?"

"Desiccating Hex." She turned back to the Diary.

"Miss Potter!" he nearly shouted. Confused, she looked back up. For the first time, something broke though his unflappable geniality. He looked pale, pale and frightened. "Would you care to explain where you learned a spell like that?"

She looked up again. "A spell like that? It's just a hex."

Lupin sighed, exaggerated and emphatic. "No, Miss Potter. It is a fifth-year spell that has recently been classified as dark magic by the ministry."

"Recently?" Harry asked, feeling her face heat up. "How recently is recently?"

"Oh, twenty years ago," Lupin said. "But that's enough of that. The proper way to deal with a Red Cap is simple: they cannot handle a barrage of drying charms. See me after class, Miss Potter."

The class went up with a furtive declaration of "Ooooh!" and that was that. Harry, red, turned back to the Diary.

The Desiccating Hex is dark magic now, apparently.

It became classified as such after my time, I imagine. I apologize, but it is difficult to anticipate what the pack of fearful sheep that calls itself the Wizengamot will do.

I just wish you told me that it could be dangerous.

How could I have known? I think it's foolish to even ban a spell like that. It's far easier to seriously hurt someone with a spell like Diffindo, or even Wingardium Leviosa, but I digress. Banned spells are banned spells. Rest assured, the Desiccating Hex should not be dark magic, by any reasonable measure.

Harry wasn't particularly satisfied with this explanation, but as Cecilia had put it, there wasn't much that they could do about it, even if it was stupid. She grumbled, and shut the book.

Five minutes later, Lupin dismissed the class. Harry stayed in her seat. He had a strange look on his face, as he paced back and forth in front of her.

"Where did you learn that spell?" he asked, voice on the edge of harshness.

"From a book," Harry said. "I don't remember which one."

"Is that so?" Lupin mused, hand on his chin. "And I know I covered the proper way to combat a Red Cap… which is interesting, because if you had been paying attention when I did so, you probably would have given me my solution."

Harry shrugged, staring intensely at one of the desks in front of her. If she was being honest, she hadn't paid very much attention to what he covered. She was much more interested in learning defensive magic against people, rather than creatures. It wasn't Red Caps or Grindylows that had murdered her parents, after all. So she'd probably not been listening - absorbed in whatever she was doing. She'd absorbed the important thing, which was that they needed to be aggressively dried, and then promptly went about writing more to Cecilia.

"So you're learning things from somewhere else," Lupin concluded, pacing back and forth.

Harry didn't know what to say to that. So, instead, she shrugged.

"But if this means that you learn things like the Desiccating Hex, and Legilimency, then perhaps independent study is not ideal." Harry drew in a sharp breath at the mention of Legilimency. He knew, then. "So, detention, with me, Thursday night, at 7."

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"Good. Now get going. I'll see you then."

She fled.

Halloween came and went. Gryffindor flattened Hufflepuff, putting them in good position for the House Cup. Harry almost lost the snitch, for her first match yet, to the older, bigger, and much more sturdy Cedric Diggory, of Hufflepuff, amidst a horrible, windy, rainy, storm.

He was supposedly very handsome, but Harry couldn't see it. She was starting to wonder if there was something wrong with her.

The Halloween Feast came, too, and Harry was starting to wonder whether the first year's troll debacle was a fluke. Maybe Halloween at Hogwarts wasn't quite as cursed as she'd thought it was. The next Thursday, however, Harry had detention with the strange Professor Lupin. He'd been odd when he told her she was to report there, but his treatment of her in his classes was even odder - he didn't even mind if she buried herself in her book the whole time.

The sight of his office was a familiar one. Privately, she hoped that this wouldn't become a habit. If giving her detention was his misguided attempt at being there for her after abandoning her to the tender mercies of the Dursleys, she wanted none of it.

But instead of long, obnoxious rants about what she did wrong, or new places and things to scrub, Lupin was waiting there, wand held loosely in his hand, a small smirk on his face.

"I suppose you're wondering what we're doing today," he said, springing up.

"Sure."

"Most of the time, studying ahead alone can lead to disastrous consequences, particularly when it comes to Defense Against the Dark Arts. So, I'm prepared to offer you lessons, at this time every week, to… direct your studies, rather than leaving you to find things out for yourself."

"What's wrong with what I'm doing now?" Harry asked. "I mean, I think I've done pretty well for myself." Of course, part of that probably was Cecilia, but no reason to reveal that particular bit to Lupin.

"I think that the fact that you've already come across dark magic as a third year is evidence enough," Lupin replied, stern. "This stuff is dangerous. It's not just something that you can go playing around with."

"I'm not playing," Harry hissed, fists clenched. She was happy to realize that her hands were only barely trembling. "But Voldemort isn't dead. I can't afford to not try to learn better magic."

"I suppose you aren't a normal student," Lupin conceded, holding out his hands, palms up.

"I met her, once already," Harry admitted. "And there was very little I could do."

His eyes went even more hooded, and his face looked even older.

"Then all the more reason to believe that yes, this is the right decision," he said. "Let us begin. I will begin with a short duel, to test your abilities."

He hopped off the desk, and shot a quick Stunning Spell at her. She smirked, and blocked it with a quick flip of her wrist, the spell reflecting off a pane of yellow light, in time with her motion. It wasn't quite the easy batting spells away with a wand, just a small, reflective dueling shield.

Still, Lupin twirled his wand in a complicated maneuver, and a storm of small blue pinpricks cascaded towards Harry. She didn't hesitate -

"Protego!" The pearly sheen of that particular brand of Shield Charm popped into existence. Lupin's spell bounced off, spinning in every direction.

Lupin wasn't done yet, though - he fired a strange cylindrical spell with a complicated-looking movement. Harry didn't recognize it, so she dropped the spell and hopped to the side, neatly avoiding the curse.

She was still ready, but Lupin relented, lowering his wand.

"Very good," he said, calmly. "Harry, that was very impressive. I don't think any of my fifth years could have given a better performance."

Harry ducked her head. It wasn't really her - it was Cecilia's direction, and skill, and strategy, and just her reflexes. Even the Legilimency that she used half the time wasn't even really hers.

Though, she'd stopped herself from looking into his mind, lately. There was something strange and feral and it did not want her in his mind, in the slightest. It was odd. Maybe she'd ask Cecilia sometime.

But Lupin was talking again, "Now, I want you to demonstrate some spells for me. Just - normal, usual spells you use or have used in confrontations."

Harry smiled, despite herself. This wasn't as bad as she'd thought.

"Hey, Harry," Ron said. "C'mon, let's go see McGonagall." Everyone else was packing up after Transfiguration, He grabbed her arm, and dragged her up to the front of the classroom.

McGonagall was standing up behind her desk, sorting around her papers. Ron leaned over and nudged Harry, gesturing furiously for her to say something.

"Professor?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Miss Potter?" McGonagall replied, straightening and glancing over them with narrowed eyes, over the top of her spectacles.

"I er - I was wondering…" Harry didn't really want to be here, asking this, but Ron was insistent. "My family forgot to sign my slip for Hogsmeade. Is there any-" she cleared her throat. It wasn't worth asking - she could tell already in McGonagall's mind that the answer was no.

"Miss Potter," McGonagall said. From even that, Harry knew just what the answer was. "I understand your… unique situation." She was right. This was a horrible idea. She desperately tried to flee, but her legs weren't obeying her. "However, there is nothing I can do. The Dursleys are your legal guardians, and they have ultimate authority over Hogsmeade visits."

"But professor-" Ron tried, but McGonagall spoke over him.

"Mister Weasley, while I must admire your loyalty, this is not something I will budge on," she said, thoughts firm and unyielding. "It's for the best, considering that Sirius Black is still out there. Even if he was last seen in Algiers."

"But that's ages away," Ron muttered. Harry agreed, but she didn't say anything.

"For a sufficiently skilled wizard, it's one Apparition. I think that though the Dementors were beastly, thinking that Black poses no danger now is just as foolish of our Minister." She frowned. "Speaking of foolishness, you both have Charms to get to," she added, meaningfully.

Ron opened his mouth to protest more, but Harry grabbed his arm and wrenched him. She wasn't really able to drag him, but he was so used to either her or Hermione dragging him along that he went willingly.

Out in the hall, she turned on him. "She wasn't ever going to say yes, you know. McGonagall would never bend the rules for me. It's just not how she works."

Ron shrugged it off. "It's worth trying. I still think it's ridiculous that you don't get to go to Hogsmeade, just because your aunt and uncle are horrible." His righteous indignation was, frankly, more charming than she'd expected.

Harry flinched, at the mention of the Dursleys. She hadn't ever really discussed them with Ron, not like that, but he seemed to know all the same that they were awful to her.

She collected herself. "What can I do, really? Unless you happen to know a secret passage into Hogsmeade, we're out of luck. I don't even think we can sneak out with the Invisibility Cloak, honestly."

Ron just shrugged. "I'll be sure to bring you something nice from Honeydukes, then." He was already thinking of how much she liked chocolate frogs.

Harry nodded. "That'd be nice. Don't sweat it too much, Ron. The Dursleys won't be my guardians forever, trust me."

"I just don't understand how you're just taking this lying down, Harry. It's not really your style." He dropped his voice, looking around furtively. "We both know that no one's out there to get you."

She shrugged. "But they don't. But the Dursleys would love nothing more than the thought of me sitting here, angry and spiteful towards them for screwing me over again, on another fun thing to do at school. I don't want to give them the satisfaction."

"Huh," he said. "Very zen."

"Mostly, it just wouldn't help me any to get angry."

"Good point. To Charms?"

"To Charms."

It was only later, that Harry worked up the courage to tell Cecilia that Lupin wanted to give her lessons. They were in the Room, casually, and Harry was sitting, doing work, while Cecilia absentmindedly thumbed through a pile of books. Harry was still a bit fried, from Cecilia testing her Occlumency.

"The Defense instructor, Lupin? He wants to teach me defensive magic."

"Is that so?" Cecilia asked, her tone quiet. "And what did you say?"

Harry looked up at her. Her gaze was quiet, intense.

"I told him that I would. It's better than detention, at any rate."

Cecilia frowned. "I'm not sure that it's a good idea, Harriet."

"It's not?" Harry asked. "After all, you won't necessarily know if a spell is illegal or not, will you?"

"Are you implying something?"

"I just don't see how it's not a good idea," Harry said, backing off.

Cecilia folded her book. "How much do you know about this Lupin?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"I mean that this man has made an enormous time commitment, on top of the already significant demands on his time that being a Hogwarts professor entails. This is not something that he would do lightly. Thus, he must have some motive for doing so. Can you imagine one?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm a good student, I guess."

Cecilia scoffed. "No offense, but the odds of you being that good of a student are very slim. Try again."

Harry couldn't help but shoot her a dirty look. "What else do you want? I don't know why he suddenly decided I was interesting."

Cold, thin fingers wound around themselves, like stitches in a wound. "If you don't know why he'd do something like that, maybe it's better if you don't attend those lessons."

"I'm going, whether you like it or not." The words tumbled out, before she could stop them.

Cecilia's face flashed, furious, burning anger visible for a second, before she controlled her expression. "Can you honestly tell me that there is nothing strange about him?"

She couldn't, but she didn't want to admit that now. She thought of the strange thing that happened every time she looked behind his eyes, of the fact that he knew her father but hadn't seen fit to show himself, of the strangely paternal interest he'd taken in the spat between her and Malfoy.

"Yes."

Cecilia smiled, a predator's smile. "Liar." Harry bristled, but before she could say anything, Cecilia was in her mind, rooting everything out, about Lupin and Sirius. Her memories, replayed on loop. Like she was submerged, swimming against the tide, and struggling against the current, to no avail. A long moment passed, until Harry could do nothing but stare at the thick, coarse textbook that she'd slumped onto.

Pulling her head back up felt like lifting a boulder. "What the hell?"

Cecilia looked - the expression wasn't quite guilt - instead, it was this strange, half-wary defiance.

"I needed to know," she said. "You can't trust him."

"Clearly, he's not the only one," Harry remarked dryly. Her head felt like Cecilia had taken a hammer and done her level best to split it in two. In some ways, perhaps she had.

"Can't you see? You might not have the experience to know why you can't see into his mind, but I do. Wouldn't you like to know?"

Harry wanted to storm out, but last time she did that, she regretted it. She would probably have told Cecilia eventually anyway, but it was the principle of the thing.

"Not until you promise me that you won't do that again," Harry said, vehement. "This isn't okay, Cecilia. I know that you probably read my mind all the time last year, but you just can't do it now. It's important to me."

Cecilia inclined her head. "I understand. I will not tear anything from your mind against your will again."

"Good," Harry said. "And I will take his lessons. There's nothing you can do to stop me."

"As you wish," Cecilia replied. If she was upset by this, she didn't show it.