Chapter Ten

Intentions

Harry's mind was numb as he walked back to Hogwarts. Every time he thought of Luna's lips on his, his face burned. Why did she kiss him like that? What did she mean, when he was ready? Did she mean when he was ready to date her, or was it something else? She had this way of looking at him as if she was seeing things that weren't there. And what did it mean for her to be studying to be a shaman with Windrider? Harry's mind was full of thoughts about Luna, reviewing her actions, what she said. Harry began to notice that when she seemed at her dreamiest was when she started making the most sense. She moved as if she didn't know where she was, yet where she was, was always where she needed to be.

Harry made it back just as the afternoon Quidditch practice was starting. He absently changed and grabbed his broom and went to practice with the others. His mind was so distracted he flew aimlessly about the pitch and only a spectacular move by Sloper saved him from being hit in the head with a bludger.

"Harry!! Get out of that fog you're in and get your mind on practice!"

Katie yelling at him at the top of her voice, as well as the whack of Sloper's bat as it hit the bludger almost inches from Harry's head brought him back to his senses. Shaking the cobwebs from his head, he dove after the Snitch and grabbed it just as he was making a spectacular diving roll past Dennis Creevey.

When they all were back on the ground walking back for dinner, Ron turned to Harry.

"What's up, mate? For a while there you were acting as spaced out as Loony Lovegood."

"Don't call her Loony" snarled Harry, and suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. Ron stopped and looked at him.

"All right, no need to get surly over it. Are you--"

"I need to talk to Hermione. I'll see you at dinner."

Harry hurried off leaving Ron staring after him, his mouth slightly open. Harry ignored him as he went up to the common room. This was one of those times where he wished he had a big sister. Since he did not, Hermione would have to do. He found her at her usual spot, sitting at a table with three books open. He dragged her away protesting about an Arithmancy essay and took her to a more secluded spot in the castle. He then told her everything that had happened that morning between him and Luna.

"So", he finished, "what am I supposed to do? Does this mean I have to ask her out? What does she mean, 'when I'm ready'?"

"If you have to ask that question, Harry, then you're not ready"

Harry made a rather unusual sound in his throat. "Damn it, Hermione, this is serious. Stop speaking in riddles and answer me in English".

"Well, Harry" said Hermione, who was trying hard not to smile, "first of all, you don't have to ask her out. All she did was kiss you. But do you like her?"

"I don't know" he replied. "I mean, she really helped me about Sirius this summer, and I think she's very nice, and smart, but I'm not sure if I like her in that way. Sometimes she's so confusing."

"Well, then you shouldn't ask her out, then. And don't feel you have to, either. I'll bet that right now, even though she kissed you, she'll say no if you ask her."

"Huh? But--"

"Harry, I knew Ron liked me for ages, but I didn't do or say anything about it until he asked me out. Then I knew he was ready for a relationship. That's why we wait for you guys to ask us out, and why we talk the way we do", she added slyly.

"But-" said Harry, trying to work his brain around these concepts, "but then, here she is, kissing me, then telling me I'm not ready, but obviously liking me, but going to say no until she thinks I'm ready, and I don't even know what ready means, I don't even know what I feel or how I feel about her, and, and..."

He banged his head against the wall and stood up.

"DAMN YOU, LUNA LOVEGOOD! I HATE YOU!"

"Good. You're almost there. Now get your thoughts in order. And don't cheat and use a pensieve, either."

Harry whirled and found Luna standing behind him smiling serenely. Professor Windrider was just limping up. Harry stared at Luna, his jaw moving up and down, and his eyes popping. Finally all he managed was a strangled scream. Luna smiled wider, gently patted him on the cheek, and walked off, presumably to her dormitory. Harry heard a gurgling noise and turned to see Hermione rolling around in silent laughter.

"Something is funny, Miss Granger?" Windrider frowned down on her.

Hermione jumped to her feet and blushed, looking down. "No, Professor."

"Then I think it is almost time for dinner."

"Yes, Professor" Hermione hurried off. Harry stared after her.

"Professor, what is it with them?" Harry waved in the direction the two girls had gone.

Windrider smiled. "Ah, Harry, if you figure that out, write a book and you can make millions. It's a part of growing up coming to the wisdom that we will never be able to figure them out. The best we can do is to find one, and spend the rest of our lives figuring her out. Sometimes we succeed." His smile took on a more wistful tone.

After a moment he shook his head and returned to his normal dour self. "But you will soon have more than enough to think about without getting all moony over girls. Off to dinner with you."

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

The next weeks proved Windrider right. Although Harry had very little free time, he was starting to enjoy most of his school time, especially teaching. During the first week he taught, the Slytherins tried to Umbridge him. However, expecting something like that, and having spent the last five years as a close associate of Fred and George Weasley, Harry was able to deal with the situation quickly and efficiently. Professor Windrider, who supervised the lessons, gave the entire house detention, and in general terrified the Slytherins so much after that that the Slytherins did not dare to try anything else. After that first week, Harry found out he was very good at teaching. His lessons were effective, and often tied in to what Windrider was teaching. It was a mark of Harry's ability that even the Slytherins started treating Harry with a good deal more respect, at least in lessons. This only infuriated Malfoy and the older Slytherins even more, and they used everything they could to torment him in and out of class.

Professor Snape was no better. He went to new lows to bully Harry as much as he could in Potions class. Strangely, though, Snape also taught Harry to resist the temptations of letting it get to him and lashing out. The lessons learned in Occlumency helped Harry keep his mind on what he was doing. Harry was actually able to keep his grades up to Snape's standards--barely. He still had his bad days, especially when Malfoy would bring up Sirius or Bellatrix Lestrange.

The only class Harry was not fond of attending was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Windrider was fast becoming the most unpopular teacher at Hogwarts. It had nothing to do with being mean, as Snape was, or incompetent, as Umbridge was, but rather that the entire school was terrified of him. Few students could look him in the eyes, and they shrank from him when he went limping along the halls. His O.W.L. students--fifth year and younger, were merely scared of his presence. The N.E.W.T. students were terrified at what he was teaching them, and rumors of what his advanced classes were like filtered down to the younger students.

One day in late September, Windrider was discussing the previous practical lesson, taught this time by Nymphadora Tonks, who kept the class entertained and laughing while she taught them some advanced combat techniques.

"As you learn these spells," he began, "keep in mind these questions. First, how will you use the spells? Second, what separates so-called good spells from dark spells? Mr. Finnegan, how can a wizard tell dark spells from light spells?"

Seamus looked up in surprise and thought for a moment.

"Erm, I don't know, dark spells are bad?"

Windrider smiled. "Well, chew on this one, then. If a Dark Wizard used Stupefy, wouldn't Stupefy be considered Dark Magic?"

"I guess so...but wouldn't that make us Dark Wizards, too?"

Windrider clapped his hands. "Ha! There's the paradox. Think about this, class. Magic in general is neither good nor evil. The spells and potions by themselves do not determine if one is a Dark Wizard or not."

Harry raised his hand. "Professor, Voldemort once told me that there is neither good nor evil, just power. Was he right?"

"Well, power in and of itself is like smoke. It is tangible, yet not there. Power is also the most misunderstood and misconstrued concepts. It is often confused with strength and fear. If you face the bully, or ignore him, he has no power over you. You, on the other hand, hold a subtle power over the bully. It is only when you react to the bully that he has power. We have talked about this concept when we discussed fear. But as for good and evil and your question, What Voldemort told you was neither wrong, nor was it right. Which brings us back to the Dark Arts. Why is some magic considered to be Dark and evil? Let us begin by considering the Unforgivable Curses. Why are they called that? Why does using them get you an automatic life sentence in Azkaban? Let's try an experiment. Mr. Potter, front and center.

Harry got up and stood in front of the class, looking very nervous.

"Now, Harry, perform the Cruciatus Curse on Mr. Weasley."

"What? But it won't work, Professor."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't do it. Bellatrix Lestrange just laughed when I--I mean she told me I couldn't do it if I wanted to.

The class started murmuring and looking at Harry. Hermione's mouth was open in shock. Windrider just nodded.

"And what did she say?"

"She-she said I had to want to, she said I had to enjoy it."

"Ah. And would you be able to perform it on Mr. Malfoy instead?"

Malfoy looked with a bit of fear in his eyes at Harry.

"I don't know, Professor." He smiled nastily at Malfoy. "Although I think I could come closer with him than with Ron."

"Interesting. You may sit down now." Harry returned to his seat. Hermione leaned over to him.

"What did you mean?" she hissed at him. "Did you use it on her?"

"Later" he hissed back, as Windrider cleared his throat and frowned down at them.

"What Bellatrix Lestrange said about the Cruciatus Curse was correct. It is in the intent of the wizard that separates good from evil." He reached behind him and pulled out a wicked looking knife from his belt.

"This knife has two edges. It can defend and protect, and it can hurt and kill. It depends on the intent it is used for. It is the same with spells. Now, let's consider potion ingredients, say, blood for example. You all have used various types of blood in your potion making, am I correct?"

All the heads nodded in the class.

"Good. Now, what is the most powerful blood used in magic?"

Neville's hand went up.

"Dragon?"

"Hmmm. Very potent. But incorrect."

Hermione's hand went up.

"Unicorn?"

"Much closer. Unicorn blood is perhaps the second most powerful. Anyone have a guess at the most powerful?"

The class was silent for a moment. Then Harry's hand went slowly up, and he saw in his mind a dark and deserted graveyard.

"Human."

The entire class looked at Harry in horror. Windrider nodded solemnly.

"Human blood is used in the Darkest of Dark magic. Not because it is evil, but because of how it must be obtained. It must come from a living person, and it cannot be stored, like dragon blood. But strangely, human blood can also be used for great good. How can this be? It is in the intent of the user that good or evil can be determined. The Dark Wizard takes forcibly, causing pain, taking life for his own purposes. But the one who gives life willingly, for others, that is the most powerful magic of all."

And Harry began to understand.