Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

Chapter 12 – Voyage 1969

Unfortunately, as Harry found out, people–the average, normal person–was quite resistant to changing their ways of thinking. The medium of the message, however, was in the form of an unceremonious shove into an empty classroom, on a day before lunch in the middle of October.

What in Merlin's pants was his first reaction, before Harry's nascent battle-instincts overrode his surprise.

"Stupefy! Colloportus!" A Stunning Spell sank into his attacker's side, and a follow-up Locking Charm sealed the classroom door before any more potential enemies could come rushing in.

Now, let's see who this is… Harry turned the body over, and noted the blue trim of the robes, as well as a familiar squarish, young-looking face, and short salt-and-pepper hair. Terry Boot? Bloody hell, is this about the Luna thing? Well, in any case… He propped the unconscious student against the wall, before drawing his wand again.

"Incarcerous. Rennervate."

"Gah! Wait, what–why am I tied up?" The Ravenclaw looked wildly around, before his turn his face upon Harry.

"You tried to attack me, Boot," Harry said dryly. "Precautions needed to be taken."

"Oh, attack?" If Terry had his hands free, he would have been gesticulating with them, but as it was, he made do with motions of his head. "I just thought we should be a bit more clandestine. Don't want to be overheard, you know?"

I see Luna's not the only Ravenclaw with quirks. "And that means roughly shoving me into an empty classroom? Actually, never mind that. What do you want to tell me?" Harry's eyes narrowed slightly. "You didn't actually want to attack me, right?"

"No, no! It's just…well, I know it was you."

"So it's blackmail, then?" Harry raised his wand again. He didn't quite know how to cast an Obliviate quite yet, at least not without possibly wiping the target's entire memory, but he couldn't think of any other immediate ways to keep it quiet.

"You know, I didn't actually know for a fact that it was you, but you just confirmed it." Seeing Harry advance menacingly, Terry spoke in a panicked tone again. "Wait, I didn't come here to blackmail you!"

"What, then." Harry did not advance further, but he did not lower his wand either.

"Overheard some Sixth-Years this morning. Said they thought that the whole thing was a joke and/or a prank, and that they were going to 'see to it that the kids know to respect their betters', or something like that."

"Doubling down, huh?" Harry said, thinking aloud. "Clearly Ravenclaw isn't the House of the smart."

"Though there is certainly some overlap between valuing knowledge and level of intelligence." A new voice sounded from the other end of the classroom, and–

Front door and back door. Crap.

"Expelliarmus! Colloportus!" The intruder dodged the Disarming Charm, but the classroom's back door sealed all the same.

Disarming Charm has too many damn syllables, I really should be using–

"Stupefy Stupefy Stupefy!"

Target initial position first, then immediately to the sides. This won't work on people like Voldy or Dumbledore, since they have ridiculous reserved, but most experienced duellists will prefer to dodge rather than shield to save energy. Sirius' simple yet enlightening piece of advice came back to him, and Su Li tumbled to the floor unconscious.

"Merlin's beard, Harry. You do realize we're trying to help you, right?"

"Sorry, sorry," Harry said, actually sounding apologetic this time. "It's, uh, instinct, I guess."

"I can see now why Granger wanted you to teach Defence." Terry nodded. "You'd better revive Su before she gets too cranky."

"Fine. But apart from what you overheard, is there anything else?"

"Nope, that's about it. The main perps are–" Terry rattled off a series of names and physical appearances, to which Harry held up a hand, before getting out some parchment and hastily beginning to scribble.

"–and Gross is the Sixth-Year Prefect, but she turns a blind eye to it." Terry finished.

"Thanks, Boot." Harry rolled up the list of names and made to leave, before realizing–"Right, your friend. Innervate."

"You'd best thank her also. She helped with at least a quarter of this."

"Right. Uh, thank you, Li."

"You're welcome." The girl stuck out her hand in a thumbs-up gesture from the floor, sounding bored. "Be thankful that we didn't call in the cavalry. Oh, and take this as well." The girl flicked an a small object at him, and Harry, with honed reflexes, snatched it out of the air.

"A…Sickle? This is a comically small bribe, if it is."

"It's not a bribe, you prat." Terry sighed. "It's one of a pair. We change the inscription on our coin, by minor Transfiguration, and this heats up and changes as well to reflect it. Therefore, communication. I don't want people to get suspicious of us meeting so often, especially when we're not known to be close friends."

"Right. That's thoughtful." Harry nodded. "Thanks." On his way out, he noted the distinct presence of Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil looking over in his direction, to which he inclined his head respectfully.

It was not until he reached his next class that he realized–

What did Terry mean, "Granger wanted me to teach Defence"? Morgana's sake, Hermione better not have dragged my name too deep into this.

And back in the classroom–

"I regret everything." Su had not bothered to get up, and spoke in the deadest of voices. "I can't believe your plan worked."

"No sign of recognition, which means he doesn't know about Granger's group." Terry mused. "Which means–"

"Still doesn't prove anything about Potter having an army, Terry." Su pointed out. "What are the chances of two secret groups–"

"I stand by my words," Terry said defiantly. "There's a schism in the Golden Trio, and I'm choosing my side."

"I swear your theories get wilder and wilder by the minute. Also, do you mind helping me up?"

Terry approached his friend, and extended a hand–

–and he promptly found himself dragged to the ground, pinned down by a pair of legs as his arm was stretched into a painful position. "Ouch, ouch! What are you doing?"

"Yes, Su, what on Earth are you doing?" Padma asked incredulously. She entered the room, and Anthony followed.

"Potter left, by the way." Anthony added.

"I'm teaching Boot a lesson for being dramatic." Su ignored Terry's groans of protest. "He got me Stunned, and now I have a headache."

"By all means, carry on, then." Anthony motioned. "Nice arm bar, by the way. Though, if I may suggest–"

"You can keep your Crafty Manga to yourself, Tony." The girl snarked in response, and Anthony rolled his eyes.

"I'm just saying, it's more efficient than your Chinese voodoo. But suit yourself."

"Boys." Padma sighed. "That includes you, Su, and you'd better get off before Terry decides he enjoys being pinned down by you."

There was an "eep", and the girl seemingly teleported upright, with Terry breathing a heavy sigh of relief.

"So, Padma," Terry remarked, still catching his breath. "How goes it on the Granger front?"

From her pocket, Padma produced a single gold Galleon. "See for yourself."

~~[q]~~

A single look of dismay on Luna's face, a few days later, uncharacteristic of the air of contentedness that she had been exuding this past week, confirmed Boot's information.

"Harry, don't–"

"I'm going back in tonight and doing everything, again." Harry stated flatly. "I'm not even going to get anyone else–it'll be quick. Does the door only open for Ravenclaws?" He frowned, his mind jumping from possibility to possibility. "Sirius could get into Gryffindor with only the password, so as long as I can answer the riddle, I should be fine, right?"

Boot was right, but it still may be a trap. I'll have to be careful.

"Yes, anyone who can answer can enter." Luna replied. "But, Harry Potter," her voice began to turn distant, "I don't think I should be closing my eyes and agreeing with this, even as much as I find myself wanting to sleep."

"It's fine. Just let me handle all of this."

"I knew you were going to say that." Luna sighed. "Just…tell me the nights when you're coming, so I can stay awake and nurse you back to health if need be."

Harry felt warmth creep up his cheeks, but he nodded anyway.

~~[q]~~

"Hello, Harry."

"Hello, Neville." Harry kept his voice calm, even as he turned to face his friend. "I thought you had gone to sleep?"

"I did want to turn in, but," Neville's hand trembled slightly, and Harry noticed the wand held within, "someone told me you'd be doing something stupid tonight."

"Really?" A vague sense of déjà vu came over him. "I wonder who that was."

"It was Luna herself." Neville shrugged. "She seemed to think you were risking yourself too much for her."

Should have known Luna was the type to just agree and then do whatever she wants anyway. But still…

"Which is why I'm coming with you."

"No."

"Yes." Neville's voice was firm. "I'm not an idiot, Harry. I saw how tired you were the first time you cast those Charms."

Now Harry remembered that old, familiar feeling, and Dumbledore's voice came to him: "It takes as much courage to stand up to your friends–"

"Yeah, okay." He gave an exaggerated, extended exhalation. "Come along, then." Then, in a more quiet voice–

"Thanks."

~~[q]~~

"Diffindo." There was a whisper of a spell, and the bottom of Luna's bookbag was torn open. Items spilled out, and the cracking of an inkwell dyed everything black.

Harry whipped his head around, spotting only a figure that was quickly departing in the crowd.

Every other night the past week he had slipped into the Ravenclaw Common Room, answering a different riddle each time, Summoning all of the stolen belongings and leaving a different (but similar) message each time.

The good news was that the pile got smaller and smaller each time, and he was getting really good at Accio, both wanded and wandlessly.

The bad news was that the culprits now seemed to be satisfying their urges in a more…direct…manner.

Though that could be good in itself. If I can force them into a direct confrontation, then beat them down, that should be enough to get them to stop…

In the meantime, he knelt down and began casting Scourgify and Reparo. "Hey, Luna."

"Yes?"

"Do you ever wonder why people would do such a thing? Hurting others for fun?"

"It is as you say, Mr Potter." A new voice, like the tinkling of a bell, entered the conversation. "It is, to them, fun. In what way such activities provide entertainment I do not know, but perhaps it is the enjoyment of a position of dominance, or curiosity as to the victim's reactions."

Harry looked up to find that the crowd had parted, allowing the Divination Professor and the Assistant Professor through. They were both carrying stacks of identical small wooden boxes, each about the size of a bento box. Merry set down the boxes on the ground, then took in the scene with an appraising eye.

"Professor Hearn, Professor Usami," Harry greeted, and Luna did the same.

"I would say 'good afternoon', but it isn't really, is it not?" Merry replied. "Miss Lovegood, I notice your bag has not yet been mended. Would you let me examine it?"

Luna handed it over, and Merry ran a hand over the bottom, tracing the split seam with her fingers. "A Cutting Charm, of course." She stared into space for a few moments more, before nodding in satisfaction. "Yes, that'll do."

"Merry," Renko had set her own boxes down, and by now a small crowd of students were beginning to form. "You can't possibly be thinking of…"

"A live demonstration, yes." She straightened, and opened the topmost box, withdrawing a small ceramic bowl, its lid, some wood for tinder and kindling, and a small woven bag, and finally, a box of matches.

"Fire-omens, Professor?" Luna enquired.

"Quick on the uptake, Miss Lovegood. Take five points to Ravenclaw." On the stack the bowl was set, and in no time at all a fire was lit. From the woven bag Merry pinched a small sprig, which she dropped into the flames, and the emitted smoke noticeably thickened. "Now," she muttered, "let's see…accounting for the Hogwarts' wards…"

There was definitely a crowd now, and Renko began to look mildly uncomfortable.

"Unicorn, yes, but that doesn't help." Maribel stared into the fire intently, and muttered to herself. "Don't know what that tree is either. The person…a girl…fo? se?Yes, I think I have it." She placed the lid on the fire and smothered it, then returned the items to the box. "Renko? Do you recall any female upperclassman whose name begins with fo and se?"

Renko cleared her throat. "There is one. Sixth-year Ravenclaw, Claudia Fawcett."

"Shall we ask her some questions, then?" Merry's voice still held a lighthearted air. "Where do you think Miss Fawcett might be, presently?"

"Probably lunch." Renko's expression was unreadable.

"To the Great Hall we go, then. Mr Potter, Miss Lovegood, I apologise for troubling you both so, but would you take these boxes to the Divination classroom for me?"

Harry nodded his assent, and the two of them quickly took the stacks and left, leaving the fascinated, murmuring crowd behind.

~~[q]~~

It was a few days later, during a Club meeting, that the pair heard the entire story from Ernie, who had witnessed the whole thing.

"She just walked right up to the Ravenclaw table as if nothing was wrong, and said 'Miss Fawcett, may I examine your wand for a moment?'. Of course, Claudia asked why, and the Professor just said 'for traces of wrongdoing'."

"Wait, 'Claudia'? You know her?" Harry said.

"The Fawcett, Greengrass, and Macmillan families all have businesses in import/export." Ernie waved a hand. "Anyway, as I was saying, Claudia had no choice but to hand over her wand, and the Divination Professor just asked 'so, does anyone know how to get a last casted spell out of a wand?'"

"There's no way she doesn't know Prior Incantato." Hannah said, lying down on the mats. "Every kid knows about that spell."

"The Professor's not from around here, though." Neville pointed out from beside her. Harry inwardly frowned. Is that really something everyone was expected to know?

"In any case, she had this look of hope on her face before the Professor spoke something in another language and the Prior Incantato images appeared anyway." Ernie grinned. "The way her expression changed was amazing, I tell you."

"The Professor doesn't like bullies or pranks much, I can tell." Luna herself had a small smile on her face at this point. "Though she does like fucking with people slightly."

There was a sudden outbreak of coughing fits, and Harry yelped as Susan spat her water at him. "Scourgify," Harry grumbled, and the water began to vanish from the mat and his clothes. And you, Luna, are the same kind of person, aren't you?

"In any case," Harry said, trying to move the conversation along, "I'm thinking of inviting more people to join us soon."

"Really?" Susan said. "Who?"

"That remains to be seen," Harry said cryptically. "Though we are short on blue, if you catch my drift." He took out the Sickle and toyed with it in his hand. We didn't know about Fawcett, sorry had appeared when the coin had heated up last night, and a few back-and-forth exchanges were had where a promise to exchange more information was made.

Harry stuffed the coin back into his pocket. "Also, I have an idea about communication. I looked into this thing called a Protean Charm." It had been easy enough to guess at the concepts used, having knowledge of the end result, and asking the Charms Professor about "spells that synchronized changes across objects" had led to almost immediate results.

Don't hesitate to steal ideas that are good. Don't hesitate to improve on stolen ideas.

"So I went and ordered some identical pocket mirrors. They won't allow you to talk face to face, not like the more advanced ones I've seen, but I'm working on a way that if you change the decoration on the back–" He stared at the Hufflepuffs, who were suddenly looking quite shifty. "What's the matter?"

"I don't think it's something you really need to know about, Harry." Susan said placatingly, or at least tried to.

"Nuh-uh." Harry shook his head. "I'll decide that for myself. Now, out with it."

Hannah relented first. "It's–it's about Granger. She–"

"She's organizing her own Defense group, and asking people to join, right?"

"So you knew already?" Hannah replied, clearly relieved.

"I can guess. I know her quite well, after all." Harry said neutrally. And I talked to her. And the Ravenclaws told me.

As everyone looked at him expectantly to continue, Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why's everyone looking at me like that? I don't see how that affects us. You can join more than one study group if you want."

There seemed to be a collective exhale. "Of course we can, Harry." Neville sighed.

The Club defaulted to practicing their usual repertoire after that, though Harry was considering what it meant that word of Hermione's group had spread that far.

~~[q]~~

Revelations about Hermione and Neville aside, the weeks began to settle back into familiar routine. Harry was soon finding out that the problem of Ravenclaw bullying was not as straightforward to solve as he thought it would have been.

Even with the Sickle, information was useless as the perpetrators never planned anything in advance, only sticking to small, spontaneous attacks. Worse still, after Merry's little intervention, it seemed that they wised up and were resorting to more roundabout methods.

There was also the matter of Divination not being all-powerful. "I was only able to get such a clear reading since the spell was so freshly cast," Merry had said. "In Hogwarts, with the amount of interference from so many magicals in one place, entropic decay of the magical trace occurs quite quickly. There's a reason why Divination isn't widely used everywhere, you know."

And so Harry had to make do with doing nothing. Protective spells could only last for so long (he had to regularly renew the Secrecy Charms he had cast on the Room of Requirement's entrance, and even that was power-intensive) and he did not have the necessary expertise to learn how to make or cast wards, not without even knowing the basics of Arithmancy nor Ancient Runes. (With Luna's experience in both, Harry reasoned that anything he could think of himself, she would already have done.)

It was not until one bright and clear Saturday morning that the answer dawned on him.

"Neville, what are the rules for a wizard's duel?"

"It depends," Neville grunted out. He was busy doing pull-ups from one of the thicker branches of an oak tree. "Traditionally there's no contact, which means no punching or kicking, and there's a Second to take over if you die, though the first doesn't apply on modern duelling circuits and the second mostly doesn't apply since people don't duel to the death formally nowadays." He dropped to the ground and exhaled. "Did somebody challenge you?"

"I'm thinking of challenging someone." Harry said.

"This is about the Luna thing again, isn't it?"

"Yes. Do you think they'd agree to stop if I beat them in a duel?"

"Most of these things are honor-based, but for the more traditional wizards, it's as good as a blood oath," Neville said. "Asking for the other party to be bound by magic is a grave disrespect. Or at least that's what I know, growing up."

"And what's this about swearing on blood and magic?" Harry asked.

"Oh, that? It's just a traditional saying. You won't actually be stripped of magic if you break the oath, but again, honour. Why?" Neville looked at Harry curiously.

"Malfoy challenged me to a duel in First Year," Harry mused. "Ponce didn't actually show up and sent Filch after me instead. Then we duelled in Second Year for real and he set a snake on me. And then…" Harry gazed across the lake. "Last year, Voldemort forced me to duel him in the graveyard."

"Harry, are you alright?"

"Just thinking." Harry said simply. "I think I'll challenge some bullies to a duel."

~~[q]~~

One of the leaders of the little escapade was Seventh-Year Prefect Victor Westcott, which Terry confirmed to be from one of the more traditional families, and it was he that Harry tracked down using the Marauder's Map, one quiet evening after dinner when he was alone.

"Harry Potter? I don't think we've met before." The tall boy looked at him curiously. "What do you want with me?"

"A duel," Harry said coldly, not bothering to conceal his hostility. "If I win, you'll stop bothering L– the younger students in your House. No, you'll stop bothering younger students, all of them, and you'll tell the rest of your little group of friends to stop as well."

There was a significant pause, before the Ravenclaw let out a chuckle. "Oh, you were referring to that. And I suppose you were the one who…" He burst out laughing. "Very cute, though it's not as if we can prove anything at this point. Well then, I accept your terms. I won't even demand anything from you if I win. Time and place?"

His expression of curiosity had taken on a predatory tinge, much like a cat thinking of the ways it could eat a particularly juicy mouse.

"Knowing that things will continue as they are if I win is good enough for me." That's what he's probably thinking.

"Trophy room, tomorrow midnight." Harry bit out. "Who's your Second?"

"I don't need any Second against you." The older teenager gave a condescending smile. "Of course, you are welcome to bring one–"

"Then I won't do so either. See you tomorrow, Westcott." Harry turned to leave.

"Looks like you really are as deluded as the Prophet says, aren't you, Potter?"

Harry ignored the barb.

After tomorrow, things will finally end.

I've been training to fight Voldemort. I've been training to fight Death Eaters. If I can't defeat a single bloody Seventh Year, I'm done for in either case.

~~[q]~~

At thirty minutes to midnight, Harry stepped out of the Gryffindor common room, and made his way to the trophy room, casting the usual suite combination of Quieting his footsteps and a Notice-me-not.

After his conversation a few days ago with Neville, he had taken it on himself to do some research, and found out the few reasons why Hogwarts' trophy room was apparently a prime spot for illegal student duelling.

Everything valuable was protected by wards. There were no portraits to tattle on you. Only a single exit in or out. Located in a secluded portion of the castle, where people couldn't stumble on you accidentally.

Harry strode through the deserted hallways, past the softly cracking torches and sleeping portraits.

A left turn here, a right here, up some stairs…

All with his wand held at his side at the ready, as he mentally rehearsed the spells he could use.

Disarming, Impediment, Stunning, Tripping. Not the Ribbon Cutter, that might accidentally kill, but Concussus was fair play. Wandless Summoning and its counterpart of Banishing.

Harry turned into a wide alcove, which opened up into an equally wide corridor, at the end of which lay the polished oak doors that led into the trophy room.

Fire-omens. Merry, with Japanese as her first language, sees katakana instead of English alphabets.

The Israelis have a nifty martial art called Krav Maga, and though it wasn't specific, the Chinese martial art Su has some proficiency in is Yong Chun.

Hermione doesn't quite have the charisma to convince people to sign their names down officially.

Just for fun: "Victor Westcott", which I needed to sound as pureblooded as possible, comes from the name of the Spiritmaster asterisk in Bravely Default, as well as one of the founders of the Golden Dawn in Toaru.

If this chapter seems all over the place, that's because it is. It was difficult to write, but we're finally at one of the major turning points.

Review please!