A/N: Many thanks to siri-padfoot, hermionegreen, and Blueberry for your reviews! I really appreciate the encouragement, and I hope the story continues to entertain you. As such there are long periods between 'action scenes'; Harry needs time to grow and gain depth as a character. There are pages and pages of later material that I've already written, but I'm not caught up with the stuff in the middle yet. A hint of things to come: werewolves and vampires are among the dark creatures that Voldemort is recruiting. I've had some fun writing scenes involving them.
Some notes about this chapter: I have taken a few more ideas from Order of the Phoenix. Amelia Bones is the head of the Wizengamot under Dumbledore, which is the impression I got from Phoenix, although I suppose some could argue that Fudge had taken it over. Also in this chapter Professor McGonagall makes mention of an "Acceptable" mark on the O.W.L.s, which is straight from Phoenix, but at this point I have not planned to go into any detailed explanation of the possible marks. They're the same as in the fifth book.
That being said, here is another chapter. Please don't forget to review!
Chapter 15: The Confundus Charm
The news of Professor Trelawney's prophecy was all over the Daily Prophet the next morning. Everyone was reading the paper at breakfast, and the students who didn't subscribe were looking over other people's shoulders.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione crowded around their own copy, their breakfast forgotten. Professor Trelawney figured prominently on the cover in a photograph that was at least ten years old. Absent were her bug-eyed glasses, and her face was noticeably smoother, but she was still draped in bangles and gauzy shawls. There were smaller photographs of Dumbledore and Fudge on the front page as well. Dumbledore was solemn and dignified in his portrait, but Fudge was clearly angry. His little figure was gesticulating wildly with one hand clenched into a fist, like a politician trying to whip a crowd into a frenzy.
In the article Dumbledore repeated the prophecy word for word and then went on to comment on its meaning. "Prophecies are vague by nature," the headmaster said. "It is often the case that their true meanings are not understood until the predicted events occur. Given what happened last summer, however, it is my belief that 'the enemy' is in fact [You-Know-Who]."
Dumbledore seemed reluctant to discuss the meaning of 'the one who is marked', but when pressed admitted that it is most likely Harry Potter, the boy who broke You-Know-Who's power when he was barely one year old. As to 'those who stand with the one who is marked', Dumbledore offered no insight. Neither did he comment on the nature of the 'sacrifice' or 'the most ancient of magics', saying that there was no clear answer to that particular part of the prophecy. He did, however, have an opinion about one more phrase. " 'Those who bring death'," said Dumbledore, "are most likely the Death Eaters, although I cannot be certain."
Minister Fudge has strongly stated that You-Know-Who is not a threat to the wizarding world. "It is preposterous to say that this prophecy is referring to You-Know-Who," said the Minister. "Even if this 'one who is marked' is Harry Potter, that does not make You-Know-Who his 'nemesis'. Students always have other students that they don't get along with, and the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry is well known. It is unfortunate that this young man is so completely delusional; at times I question the wisdom of allowing him to remain at Hogwarts at all."
"WHAT?" exclaimed Harry. Students everywhere turned from their breakfast to look at him, but for once he didn't care. "Completely delusional? Allow me to remain at school? Where does he get off?"
"Shh!" said Hermione. "You can bet that whatever you say about Fudge here will get back to him, and more attention from him is not what you need right now. Not that you're not right, of course," she admitted. Seething with indignation, Harry bit his tongue and turned back to the paper.
The Ministry of Magic currently has no say in the admission or expulsion of students, but Minister Fudge has expressed a desire to bring the school under greater Ministry control.
"It is the opinion of the Ministry that Albus Dumbledore, venerable as he may be, wields entirely too much power over Hogwarts School," said Fudge. "We feel that it would be in the students' best interest to remove some of that power in order to ensure that they not only receive the best education but are treated fairly along the way."
Other members of the magical community, however, feel that Albus Dumbledore has proved an able headmaster and needs no Ministry assistance. "Dumbledore is an excellent wizard and a fine man," said Amelia Bones, Second Witch of the Wizengamot. "Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Order of Merlin, First Class – he does not hold these titles and accolades for nothing."
Rumor has it that Minister Fudge is upset over the recent hiring of Ardoc Bellaton and Celeste Thornby to the positions of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic, respectively, against his recommendation.
"That is utter nonsense," said Fudge. "In the hope of being useful I gave Dumbledore a list of names that I thought would be suitable. Who he ultimately chose, of course, was his own decision entirely."
Ron snorted. "I'll bet," he said.
"Well, we all know that Fudge is jealous of Dumbledore," said Hermione softly. "If he's really determined to interfere at Hogwarts, he'll be trouble."
Harry agreed with her completely. Fudge was certainly bombastic beyond all reason, but it was too risky to simply write him off as a buffoon.
"He's slick," said Ron. "Look here, Fudge says he's not upset about the new professors but he doesn't exactly endorse them either…"
"And he's holding to what he said last year," said Harry. "Still doesn't want to believe that Voldemort's back. I wonder what it'll take to bring him round."
Hermione shuddered. "I don't like to think about it," she said, "but I don't think it could be anything short of catastrophic."
In Harry's opinion it wasn't a great way to start the second day of school. The Daily Prophet article kept Professor Trelawney's prophecy – and therefore Harry – at the forefront of conversation once again. He did his best to pretend that he didn't notice the heads that turned to watch him as he passed through the hallways.
"No one seems to have come up with the idea that you two might be part of the prophecy too," said Harry quietly as they headed for Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"Maybe they never will," said Ron hopefully.
"Lucky for you if they don't," said Harry. "Trust me, you don't want this kind of attention."
They entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and took their seats. Harry was glad to see that the other incoming Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, with whom they were sharing the lesson, were more interested in discussing Professor Bellaton than him.
The bell chimed, and Bellaton promptly strode into the classroom, looking larger than life. "Good morning, class!" he boomed cheerfully, receiving a smattering of "Good morning, Professor"s in return.
Bellaton reached the front of the class and turned to face them. Parvati and Lavender were sitting in desks nearby; Harry could see them making calf-eyes at their teacher.
"Not a morning bunch, are you?" said Bellaton, shaking his head. "Well, I am, and I expect that after a few days of my class you will be too. I am Professor Ardoc Bellaton, your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. Wands out, if you please!"
A low, excited buzzing filled the classroom as students pulled their wands from their robes.
"You will find that nearly all your lessons for this class will be practical as I am a great believer in practical magic. Professor Thornby has kindly agreed to work most of the theory into her classes, leaving us free to do actual spellwork. Today we will work on something new, but we will also be reviewing some of the more basic spells that you have already covered. You will need to master these basics in order to properly cast more complicated spells, so I suggest you pay attention and practice in your free time. But, as I said, a new one today: the Confundus Charm. Please stand up and tuck your things away; I am going to clear the room for practice."
They stood, and with a wave of his wand Professor Bellaton pushed their desks, chairs, and satchels against the two side walls.
"As you will no doubt recall from your History of Magic class, the Confundus Charm is very similar in nature to the Imperius Curse, but it is not as potent nor as sinister. The Confundus Charm leaves the subject confused, and its most expert wielders can cause the charmed subject to 'forget' something specific. The subject will then behave in a way that is contrary to what they would choose themselves. I will not be teaching you this power of suggestion as it smacks too much of the Unforgivables.
"You are Miss Abbot, is that correct?" said Bellaton, drawing Hannah aside from the main group.
"Y-Yes," she said, looking nervously up at Bellaton who towered over her slight frame.
"Ah, one of the excellent Hufflepuffs," said Bellaton. "Miss Abbot, you will be my example." Hannah did not look thrilled at the prospect. "But before I demonstrate let us practice the incantation and wand motion. Confundo! Be sure to pronounce it in exactly this way. And as you do so, move your wand in a wide circle and then point…"
They practiced the incantation until Bellaton was satisfied, then divided off into partners.
"Now, watch me," said Bellaton. He faced off against a now visibly trembling Hannah. "Confundo!"
Hannah did not move, but her eyes glazed over and she began to look about as if unsure where she was. As she started to walk haltingly forward, one hand raised to touch whatever she encountered, Bellaton lifted the spell. "Finite!" Hannah blinked again; her eyes refocused, and she shook her head.
"What happened?" she murmured.
"Confundus Charm," said Bellaton promptly. "You're still feeling the effects slightly. Have a seat for a moment, and then you can practice on your partner when it passes. The rest of you form two lines and practice on each other, one at a time. If you successfully cast the charm do not leave your partner under its influence for more than a few seconds only. Begin!"
Harry had paired off with Neville. "You first," Harry said.
Neville looked less than rock-steady as he stepped forward and raised his wand. "Confundo!" he shouted, putting the emphasis on the wrong syllable. Nothing happened.
"I don't think you pronounced it quite right," said Harry, looking sideways at Ron, whose face had gone slack. Hermione, it seemed, had gotten it right on the first try.
It took Neville several tries before he managed to cast the spell, but he wasn't pointing his wand at Harry when he did so. The spell shot between Harry and Ron, who was trying to confuse Hermione, and hit the portrait of an aged witch behind them. The witch stared as if she had been sucker-punched, then began to sing in a reedy voice: "Hail to the headmaster, headmaster, headmaster, hail to the headmaster, headmaster man! He drinks and he cusses, he farts and he fusses! Hail to the headmaster…"
All the students who weren't charmed began laughing. Neville turned red, but Bellaton, who was laughing louder than anyone else, merely walked up and clapped him on the shoulder. "Finite!" he commanded, and the witch stopped singing. "Mr. Longbottom, did you do that on purpose? The other portraits all say that old Henrietta Gumpton was a nasty gossip. I suppose she deserves what she gets. But I wonder which headmaster she was referring to...?" Neville blushed again but didn't look quite so embarrassed, and he turned to face Harry with a newly determined expression.
The next thing Harry knew, the room had gone dim and fuzzy. There were people standing all around him, people he couldn't see clearly. What was going on? Where on earth was he? He thought vaguely that if he moved closer to some of the people, maybe he'd recognize them… maybe they'd tell him where he was…
"Finite!" The word rang in his ears, and the grayness vanished so suddenly that he blinked in the light. For a moment he stood there, still completely befuddled, until he saw Neville standing before him and everything became clear.
"Looks like you've got the hang of it, Neville," he said, shaking his head to clear out the remaining cobwebs. Neville grinned proudly from across the room. Next to him, Hermione's eyes suddenly glazed over, and Ron gave a triumphant shout.
"Now you're gonna get it," said Harry, grinning and leveling his wand. "Confundo!"
Harry managed to charm Neville twice before Bellaton called a time-out. "Very good! Most of you seem to have gotten the hang of the Confundus Charm. Now there is something that you should practice when you are being charmed: I want you to try and throw it off. Get it into your head to focus your mind and remember where you are when everything goes cloudy. Concentrate before your partner charms you and it will help. Some of you will need more practice at this than others, but if you can manage it you will have a powerful weapon in your arsenal, for throwing off the Confundus Charm is much like resisting the Imperius Curse."
The other students looked sideways at Harry. He knew they were thinking of the day when Barty Crouch, Jr. – disguised as Moody – had showed them what it was like to suffer the Imperius Curse. They'd seen Harry resist it when no one else could.
Harry was tired of being gawked at like a sideshow. It was with a strong feeling of irritation that Harry turned to face Neville again, and he was not prepared to resist the Confundus Charm that was fired his way. When his head cleared again, Harry gave himself a shake and tried to focus.
Neville certainly had the hang of the charm now, but Harry was having trouble resisting it. It was on his fourth try that something finally happened. The world went cloudy and gray, and Harry was once again plunged into utter bewilderment. Where was he now? He didn't want to keep revisiting this strange place. Concentrate… Harry squinted into the fog. Who was that standing in front of him? Concentrate… He could almost recognize that face… almost… Neville Longbottom… Neville cast a spell on you…
The confusion lifted like fog burning away under the sun. "Impedimentia!" Harry cried, and Neville fell backwards onto the floor as if he had been pushed hard.
"Oh, well done, Mr. Potter!" said Bellaton. "Why did you use the Impediment Jinx?"
"I don't know," said Harry honestly. "I remembered what had happened and I just said the first thing that came to mind… Sorry," he said to his partner.
Neville had stood up and was surreptitiously rubbing his backside. "I'm fine," he said, grinning sheepishly.
"Excellent," said Bellaton. "Here, you may need these." Another wave of his wand produced colorful cushions that covered the walls and floor behind the students in Neville's line. "Now that you've broken free once, Mr. Potter, try and make it happen faster, and increase the strength of your reaction. And you, Mr. Longbottom, concentrate harder on your spell. Try and keep Mr. Potter confused."
When the class finally ended, Harry was still the only one who had managed to throw off the charm entirely, but a few others students were showing signs of resistance, including Ron and Neville. Professor Bellaton praised their work. "Excellent job, all of you!" he said as they gathered up their books. "Your homework is to practice both casting and resisting the Confundus Charm, and for next week write a short essay on the usefulness of this spell when under attack. No more than six inches."
"You looked like you almost had it that last time," Harry said to Neville. "Your eyes actually focused on me."
"I was almost there!" said Neville. A look of wonder was on his round face. "It slipped away at the last minute, but I was almost there!"
"I guess we shouldn't be surprised that you could do it," Hermione said to Harry. "After all, you're the only one that got past the Imperius Curse last year."
All the mental fighting Harry had been doing that morning had taken its toll; from the looks of things, his fellow classmates were feeling just as tired as he was. The Gryffindors staggered into Charms and into their seats under the curious eyes of the fifth year Ravenclaws. Dean and Parvati put their heads down on their desks and promptly fell asleep.
"Good heavens!" squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick as Dean began to snore. "What have you been practicing in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Fatiguing Hexes?"
"Confundus Charm," sighed Lavender.
"Well, then, wake each other up," said Flitwick. "You are fifth years, after all; I trust you can think of a charm to do the job."
Hermione earned Gryffindor five points for her use of the Reviving Charm, but Neville's use of the Cheering Charm on Dean caused the latter to laugh hysterically until Professor Flitwick could repair the damage.
Professor Flitwick launched headlong into a speech much like Harry had heard the other teachers give about the importance of their O.W.L.s and the level of dedication that would be required of them this year and so on. The fifth years were looking decidedly dejected by the time Flitwick finished, so he set them to work on a brief recap of the spells they had previously learned including the Summoning Charm and the Cheering Charm, which Neville had fouled up so badly. Harry thought that he performed rather well; he had mastered the Summoning Charm last year in preparation for the First Task, and while some of the fifth years caused their partners to end up on the floor in tears, Harry managed to avoid taking the Cheering Charm to extremes.
Professor Flitwick piled a load of homework on the class before they were dismissed, and so did Professor Sinistra at the end of her Astronomy lecture. Harry was feeling tired and cross by the time the Gryffindors trooped into Professor McGonagall's classroom for Transfiguration with the Slytherins. Judging from his classmates' expressions, Harry could see that their feelings mirrored his own.
"Hey, Potter! How does it feel to be a marked man?" sneered Malfoy from across the room.
It was the first time anyone had mentioned the prophecy since breakfast. Harry turned and gave his archenemy a disdainful look. "That's a pretty substandard insult even for you, Malfoy. Did you spend all day coming up with it?"
The rest of the Gryffindors laughed, and Harry's spirits rose. Malfoy bared his teeth but at the appearance of Professor McGonagall he smoothed his face to stillness.
If the other teachers were planning on working the fifth years hard that year, Professor McGonagall made it plain that she was going to be merciless. "No matter what field you enter into, Transfiguration is one of the most useful, important skills that a witch or wizard can possess," she told them tartly. "As such I expect to see nothing but the best efforts from all of you this year. I shall be extremely disappointed if a single one of you does not achieve at least an Acceptable mark on their O.W.L." Her gaze lingered particularly long on the Gryffindors, and Harry knew that she would be even harder on her own House than she was on the other students.
Just like the rest of the classes, Transfiguration was mostly spent in review that day. It didn't go quite as well for Harry as the others had; he could turn a tomato into a big, red Quaffle but not into a teacup, and when he tried to Vanish the fruit it merely became transparent.
Professor McGonagall kept them working through the whole class, and by the time it was over Harry felt like a rag that had been wrung out and hung up to dry. Even Malfoy was exhausted; when Harry and Ron passed by him, all he could muster was a halfhearted glare.
They walked up to Professor McGonagall's desk as the rest of the students left the classroom. "Excuse me, Professor," said Harry.
"Yes?" she said, pausing in the act of straightening her papers.
"We were wondering if we could talk to you sometime about what it takes to become an Auror."
Professor McGonagall looked away from Harry's face and past his shoulder. She waited until the last student had left before answering. "Aurors," she said softly. "Well, judging by your… adventures at Hogwarts over the years, I would say that this does sound like a natural move for you." She pointed her wand and two chairs came sliding up to face her desk. "Sit," she said.
Fifteen minutes later, Harry and Ron left the Transfiguration classroom with a new sense of purpose. Professor McGonagall had been very helpful. While she was obviously pleased with their ambition, she was unapologetic about the work they would have to do to get there.
"Required O.W.L.s in Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts…" said Ron as they headed down to the Great Hall. "I'm glad I found this out before it was too late."
"Right," said Harry. "We're going to have to act a lot more like Hermione if we want this to happen."
"Especially when it comes to Potions," said Ron. "If there's anyone standing in our way it's Snape."
"I don't think McGonagall will let him get away with any dirty tricks this time," said Harry. "She really wants us to make it, did you see her face?"
"Yeah. She's kind of scary when she's sizing you up," said Ron. "But at least she thinks we can do it. Fred and George wouldn't think I had a snowball's chance in hell of becoming an Auror."
"Don't tell them, then," said Harry. "After they see your O.W.L.s they won't have anything to say about it."
They entered the Great Hall and sat down next to Hermione, who had saved them seats at the table. All the fifth years were eating their supper as if it were their last meal. Ron moaned as he sank his teeth into a roasted chicken leg. Nearby, Dean was drinking so deeply from his goblet of pumpkin juice that it was running down his chin. Even Hermione was digging into her mashed potatoes with something less than her usual neatness.
"Hullo, fifth years!" said a voice behind Harry and Ron. They turned to see Fred and George standing there holding a large pie and a huge dish of vanilla ice cream.
"Blackberry," said Fred, gesturing with the pie. "Thought you could use an extra special treat after today."
"Yes," said George. "Welcome to your fifth year."
"Heeeey!" said Ron as they set the offerings down on the table. "Where did you get this?"
"From everyone's favorite house-elf, Dobby," said Fred. "He's more than happy to do anything at all to help Harry Potter." Fred winked at Harry.
"And to think I had you both pegged as nothing more than insufferable older brothers," said Ron.
"Pray don't stop just because we've brought you dessert," said George. "We fully intend to continue making your life unbearable. It's just so much fun, you see."
"Hold on there, that one's mine," said Ron. The pie was rapidly disappearing.
"Well, we did come to deliver this token of our understanding of the hell that fifth year is," said Fred.
"But there's something else: Quidditch meeting tomorrow night, Harry. Seven o' clock," said George. "We're going to discuss tryouts and elect a new team captain." Ron's ears twitched visibly. "Don't worry, Ickle Ronniekins, we'll tell you when the tryouts are," George continued, ruffling his brother's hair.
Ron turned bright red and squirmed out from underneath George's hand. "Geroff, you maniac!"
"You're trying out for the team, Ron?" said Seamus.
"Yeah," said Ron uncertainly, flushing even redder. "Keeper, now that Wood's gone. You?"
"Nah," said Seamus, "I'd go for Chaser if there was a spot open. Maybe next year."
"Well, we're behind you one hundred percent, Ron," said Dean.
"As long as you've got the skills," added Seamus. "Wood's going to be a tough act to follow."
"He'll have the skills," said Fred proudly. "He's a Weasley!"
Ron's face was as red as his hair. Harry knew he wasn't used to praise from the twins.
The Gryffindors laughed and joked through the rest of the hour, and it was only when dinner was finally over that Harry realized that not one of them had mentioned the prophecy all day. He headed off to the library with the rest of the fifth years, full of warm blackberry pie, fervently hoping that this was the start of a permanent trend.