In some of the previous chapters I have had a number of people chastise me for being "pornographic and or listing my story in the wrong rating category. This is a PG-13 story. There will be some unsuitable moments for children under the age of 13. For those of you wanting to know what falls under this category please read the following definitions of the MPAA ratings which this site uses as a rating guide.

PG-13 Parents Strongly Cautioned.
This motion picture contains some material that many parents would find unsuitable for children under 13 years of age. Parents are strongly urged to exercise greater care in, and are cautioned against letting children under the age of 13 watch unattended. This motion picture contains one or more of the following: intense violence , intense sexual situations, strong coarse language, or intensely suggestive dialogue.

R Mature Audience Only.
This motion picture is specifically designed to be viewed by adults and therefore may be unsuitable for children under 17. This motion picture contains one or more of the following: graphic violence , explicit sexual activity, or crude indecent language .

There, now. This story has not crossed into the "Explicit sexual activity" and instead has remained in the "intense sexual situations". I dare anyone to show me where any sexual activity has taken place other than kissing very brief fondling which pales in comparison in what we see daily on TV and in the movies where this rating in employed. So enough with your stupid threats. If you feel like reporting me then by all means do so and quit your infantile "I could report you but I wont (So you better thank me and kiss my feet)" and your "This story is mislabeled." Know what the heck it is you are talking about before you start flapping your gums next time.

Now that that is out of the way. Thank you for those of you that pointed out the error in posting a repeat of chapters 42 and 43. this was again a problem with ff.net when I tried to post the last 5 chapters. I am only posting these two chapter in an attempt to correct the mistake their software or hardware made at the time.

For those of you that want to actually see daily postings you can go to my Yahoo site. Address is in my profile. I will only be posting here when I can access the site and the software on the first try. So it might be as long as 2 weeks since ff.net actually working properly is a rarity nowadays.

Read On!

Chapter 45

Harry, Hermione, Ron and Luna decided against a picnic outside due to the frigid weather and instead found their way to the ground floor opposite the Great Hall at Classroom 11 used by Divination Professor Firenze.

Even though none of the four have elected Divination they remembered the forest clearing that mimicked Firenze's natural home of the forest that he was now exiled from. Dumbledore had been kind enough to have the room enchanted for class and on the weekends it was opened to certain students that wished to partake of nature in it's purest form without the danger presented to them from entering the Forbidden Forest.

They spent most of the morning eating, speaking of Quidditch and other non-important issues as they partook of Hermione's sandwiches, and liberal amounts of pumpkin juice. Harry sat with his back up against a tree with Hermione between his legs, her head nestled under his chin having her hair stoked slowly as they all talked. And Ron was flat on his back, his head in Luna's lap still nibbling on the last of the sandwiches.

"Think Firenze will let us stay here come Monday?" asked Harry.

Ron grunted, "Think Snape will dance at your wedding?"

Luna doubled up laughing which encouraged Harry and Hermione to join in, at least until the door to Classroom 11 opened reveling a questioning Minerva McGonagall.

"Here you are, Potter. Having a relaxing morning?"

Hermione sat up letting Harry stand. "Is something wrong Professor? I was thought we were allowed in this room on the weekends."

McGonagall shook her head. "Yes you are, however I was led to believe by the headmaster that you were to be studying Enchantments?"

He looked at Hermione and back up at the professor. "Yes, ma'am, I thought not until Tuesday afternoon."

Her face soured a bit in sympathy. "Your schedule has been changed as of this morning. Miss Granger if you and Mr. Potter would be so kind as to accompany me to the headmaster's office we will discuss the changes and you may meet your tutor."

They looked back at their friends.

"We'll clean up, mate. Go on. Meet you in the common room when you're done."

"Thanks Ron, sorry," apologized Hermione.

They followed the professor at a brisk pace down the hall and up the staircase toward the headmasters office.

"I want you two on your best behavior in front of the tutor. Professor Dumbledore has gone to great lengths of personal favors, and much cost to the school in order to bring him in. I expect you to give him your undivided attention at all times, Potter."

He nodded, "Who is 'he'?"

"Balfour Blane."

Harry turned his head up for that. "I've heard that name before."

Hermione kept pace beside him, almost at a run. "Should have. He was question 27b on your History of Magic O.W.L."

He looked sidelong at her. "27b? Remember that was the test I fell asleep in."

She continued. "Balfour Blane was the founder of the Committee for Experimental Charms for the Ministry of Magic. Isn't he dead, Professor?"

They looked over at McGonagall. "Yes."

Harry groaned, "Not another ghost teacher. Professor Binns used to put me to sleep just looking at him."

McGonagall smiled. "Oh, he's no ghost I assure you."

"A portrait?" guessed Hermione.

"Wizarding portraits cannot practice magic, Miss Granger."

They were out of ideas when they reached the gargoyle and she gave the password. "Buffy Rules."

Harry saw the distaste on her face as the gargoyle hopped. He and Hermione almost lost their early lunch at the smell that wafted downstairs.

Hermione covered her mouth and gasped. "He's not!"

McGonagall turned her head and nodded. "It was his last Enchantment before he died. Some said it was what killed him. Do be polite. Professor Dumbledore has already cast a masking charm but he arrived by floo and carried with him the most awful stench. The headmaster hasn't had time to air out the offices."

Harry could swear the air seeping down from the office had a green tinge to it. "Professor, you can't be serious. I can't even breathe."

She snapped her fingers at him, "Move Potter. The air's better once you get into the office, proper."

Everyone took a deep breath and even though the stairway could have carried them speedily, they all chose to step lively. The professor was as good as her word. The air was much more clear above, but the sight of Blane was enough to turn his stomach. He wore a perfectly good set of robes and his hair was neat and pulled back into a low ponytail. The rest of him was falling apart, literally, for Balfour Blane was a Zombie.

"Ah, Harry, Hermione, thank you for coming at such short notice. I would like you to meet one of the most famous and gifted Enchanters of the wizarding realm, Balfour Blane."

The zombie rose from his seat and held out his hand. Harry tried his best not to looked disturbed but knew it showed on his face nonetheless.

"Go on boy, shake it. I won't come apart on you. Fixed that problem about fifty years after I died."

Harry tried not to run or at the very least walk away very fast, but took Blane's hand in his for a extremely brief shake.

"Brave one you got here, Dumbledore. I'll teach him."

"Thank you Balfour. Your help is much appreciated. I assume you will remember the Masking Charm before you return tomorrow." stressed Dumbledore.

The pupil-less eyes swiveled wetly in their sockets toward the headmaster. "Scared of a little smell, Dumbledore."

"Not at all, Balfour. However, it does put one off of their lunch."

The zombie reared back and laughed loudly. "Tomorrow, Mr. Potter. Eight o'clock in the Great Hall." Blane grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder and turned back before he left. "Nice work on that ring. Less than a week, huh? Very nice work."

He stepped into the fire and disappeared.

"I'm never going to eat again," Harry mumbled to himself.

Hermione finally over her shock of seeing a walking talking zombie went off with her first question. "Professor, how is this possible I thought Zombies were undead soulless creatures and ate the flesh of the living?"

Dumbledore waved his wand creating a slight breeze toward the open window taking the rest of the stench. "There, that's a bit better. Balfour Blane is the foremost authority on Enchantments and that is the nature of his apparent escape from death."

"He enchanted his soul?" gasped Hermione.

Dumbledore nodded. "It was his life's work. From what I have been told he was deathly afraid of ... death. He did have a problem at first, rotting everywhere and you have smelled firsthand what he was like to be around. However, as he explained, some fifty years after his death he was able to arrest the decaying nature of his body. Sadly he has not found away to reverse the process and has wound up secluded in his own home working on freelance projects for wealthy wizards."

The look on Harry's face was still somewhat nauseated.

"Now the other reason I have brought you both up here is to give you this Miss Granger."

Dumbledore handed her a small package. "I feel it is necessary, for the interim, to lighten Harry's workload since he will be taking on additional classes and thought of nobody better qualified to instruct the first, second, and third year students than our brightest."

Once she got the gist of the statement she tore at the package like it was the newest edition of Hogwarts, A History. "Oh, Professor!"

She opened the box to find a badge to match Harry's own.

"Does this mean?"

"Indeed it does," grinned Dumbledore. "You start tomorrow, and you will be attending tutoring sessions with Harry in the afternoon to make up for the disturbance in your schedule. Except for the variance in your coursework, of course."

Then her face fell a little. "Professor, you said for the interim?"

"Yes, the study of Enchantment is somewhat of a complimentary course. With the aptitude Harry has shown, I dare say he will complete the requirements in around a month's time."

**********************

"Aren't you happy for me Harry?"

He was still staring off in the distance as they walked toward Gryffindor tower. "I'm going to be taught by a Zombie."

She waved him off. "Oh, get over it already. You'd think it was Umbridge coming back or something."

Harry stopped and looked at her. "It's worse. If I don't do everything right he's going to eat me."

She laughed, "I guess you missed the part where he brings his own meals with him. It doesn't have to be human flesh he eats."

"Hermione, I'm being taught by a Zombie!"

She returned to her walk toward the tower. "Who also happens to be the most brilliant Enchanter in the world." She looked back at him and smiled. "For now."

************************

The day off was just what the doctor ordered for Harry. By the next morning he was feeling refreshed and ready for his lesson with the man eating Zombie ... or rather, Balfour Blane.

Harry knew Blane had arrived from the rapid empting of the Great Hall. Students held their mouths as they briskly piled out after breakfast.

"Don't leave on my account." Harry heard from within followed by brief laughter.

Once the last of the students left, Harry opened the door and entered.

"Potter, wonderful. We can begin."

Blane turned around. "Don't have a place to practice, do we. Well clear all of this up for me, would you?"

Harry looked at the house tables and gawked at the mess left behind. "Um ... sir. I haven't learned the spell that would clear away the tables. Professor Dumble ..."

"Thought you were a top notch Enchanter, Potter? You do know the Cleaning Charm, do you not?"

Harry nodded, "Yes, sir."

Blane looked at him and squinched his eyes slightly causing a slight squishing sound. Harry was suddenly very grateful he decided to skip breakfast this morning.

"Well then, it's time to use that brain of yours. Heard of a little thing called imagination, have you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well then, where's your wand?"

He set his school bag down and pulled his wand out of his cloak pocket.

"Picture the entire hall clean, in your mind, the dishes back in their racks all nice and clean, the food stored away or in the food bins as the case may be, and the floors sparkling and debris free."

Harry closed his eyes and did just that.

"Focus on it, Potter. Fulfill your desire for it to have already happen and proceed with the spell."

"Scourgify!"

He hadn't opened his eyes, yet for fear that the spell hadn't worked.

"Not bad for your first time," commented Blane.

Harry opened his eyes and the Great Hall was as clean as Dumbledore had ever made it.

"I did it!"

Blane nodded his head. "I think you missed a Treacle Tart on the teacher's table."

Harry was in awe that he could finally do something Dumbledore could do. He remembered back to the first time he saw him do this particular spell and was astounded at the amount of power it would take, knowing he himself would never be as strong in magic.

"I tend to walk around a lot, when I talk, Potter. So don't follow me, eh." He demonstrated by crossing the length of the Great Hall and back again for his introduction speech.


"I don't know what Dumbledore's told you so I will start at the beginning. The art of Enchantment can be thought of as a complimentary magic, which means, we who practice the art, take existing Charms, Transfigurations, Hexes, Potions, Jinxes, Spells, Conjurations, and whatever else they call magic now-a-day, and add our own power to them."

Harry looked a little confused.

"Through concentration and focus of your mind you imbibe permanency onto whatever magic you choose."

"Please, sir. Do you mean any magic I do will be permanent?" asked Harry.

The zombie shook his head. "No, not at all. Only that which you choose, either through focus or the outer fringe of emotion." Blane laughed to himself.

"It was widely thought that individuals could be cursed to lead sorrowful lives or never to love again or be poor because a wizard would 'curse' them. For instance, I remember a witch that had lost her muggle husband to some sort of vehicle accident some fifty or seventy-five years ago. In her highly emotional state she cursed the driver of the vehicle to never know love for the rest of his days."

Now Harry was surprised. "There's a curse like that?"

The zombie shrugged. "I'm sure there is, in some dusty tome sitting on some scholar's bookshelf, but in the regular wizard world, no."

"But how?"

The zombie smiled, showing greenish looking teeth. "That is the nature of Enchantment. Being able to do magic that others can't. Even when you don't realize you are doing it."

He closed on Harry, "Her hate, sorrow, and sense of revenge enabled that curse to be true. That man died a sorry shell of his former self sometime later." He paused. "So be careful to keep your emotions in check, Potter."

A thought came in his mind. "So if I were to do, say, a Popping Boil Hex on someone and I was really mad ..."

Blane took over, "Then that person would be poppin' pus for the rest of their days ... unless an Enchanter with equal or greater power could do a counter-curse."

A grim feeling of satisfaction rested on Harry's shoulders followed soon after by guilt when he realized Bellatrix Lestrange had been under that very same curse for almost two days.

"Now you won't be learning any new Charms or Transfigurations from me. What you are to learn is the practical application, and how to control your power. Shall we begin?"