****Author's note—This week's double post is in honor of PussyKat, whose Reviewer Response was accidentally cut from the last chapter. (It should be there now!) I hope you enjoy this new chapter!
I'm considering doing some illustrations from the fic, beyond the drawing of Mira (available at http://www.tokkiproject.com/~neoepiphany) If you would be interested in that, please let me know, because I don't wish to bother if no one would look.
Thanks much,
Neoepiphany*****
Chapter Fourteen
Spelled and Misspelled
Their first quidditch practice as a new team worked out better than Harry had hoped. Since all three of the chasers were new, Harry spent a lot of time forcing them to run drills to get used to flying with one another. Kirke wasn't too bad, although he still had a tendency to get intimidated by the opposition and fly in the opposite direction. Eva Gregory was an impressive flier. She had a new Cleansweep, and she knew how to use it; she could zip around the people on the field, circling them easily. Ginny was pretty good, and, although Ron tended to be much harder on her when she made a mistake, she had a good attitude and spent a lot of time helping her fellow chasers. He insisted on two pracitices a week, the dates of which were constantly readjusted as the balmy, late-summer weather became chillier and rainier autumn.
As busy as he was with the DA and his quidditch captain duties, Harry barely noticed when September suddenly became October. They were covering really difficult subjects in their lessons, and Harry's homework had begun to mount. Tonks had assigned them the task of constructing a complicated and difficult ward as homework, and then promptly moved on to a series of difficult curses and counter-jinxes. McGonagall had them conjuring more complex items now, and, after a transfiguration lesson, the classroom was often full of bizarre objects ranging from fluffy slippers and wooden stepladders, to brightly colored plastic beach balls and trays of frosted muffins. Professor Flitwick, meanwhile, had finished with barrier charms—each Gryffindor could now draw an Age Line, a Gender Line, a Height Line, and an Identity Line—and had started them on linking charms.
"Ooh, Harry," Hermione said excitably, as she magically linked her banana to a mango across the room, "this charm is the basis of all the linking spells in 'Charms, Spelles, and Enchantmentes.' Once you've got this down, they should be no problem for you!" She paused, and looked suspiciously at Harry. "You have been practicing those charms, haven't you?"
"Er, right," Harry said, as he tried to link his own pineapple to one on Professor Flitwick's desk. In truth, he hadn't really thought about the charm book. He had two and a half weeks left until his meeting with McGonagoll, and his mind had been too full of DA meetings and quiddtich techniques to worry much about it.
Hermione pursed her lips. Harry thought for a moment that she was going to lecture him about getting behind, and idly considered shooting a silencing charm at her, but Ron spoke before Hermione.
"How are we supposed to know when this works?" he said, scowling. "You can't tell any difference between the fruit before and after, can you? So how are we supposed to know when we've done it?"
"Like this," Hermione said. She aimed her wand at her banana. "Reducio!" The banana detonated, spraying Hermione, Harry, Ron, and everyone sitting behind them, with sticky white banana pulp. Meanwhile, across the room, the mango had exploded as well, showering Professor Flitwick with sticky juice. He didn't seem at all daunted, however, and congratulated Hermione on her accomplishment.
Harry was reasonably sure he'd managed to link his pineapple up to the other one, so he pointed his own wand at it. "Reducio!" A shower of pineapple juice and bright yellow pineapple meat sprayed across his and Ron's already banana coated robes. Hermione had dived under the desk, and so the blast of juice hit Lavender Brown, who was sitting behind her. Unfortunately, the other pineapple remained resolutely whole.
"Keep trying," said tiny Professor Flitwick pulling a coconut out of the box of fruit on his desk and setting it in front of Harry. "Tricky magic, this. You'll get it eventually."
"It's not so hard," Hermione added, encouragingly. "And once you've got it, you can do loads of other linking spells! Really, it isn't hard at all once you—"
"It's easy for you to say," Ron muttered. "You've been doing the Protean charm for ages, and that loads harder."
"Oh, Ron," Hermione said, but she looked pleased with herself.
By the end of class, Harry and Ron each successfully managed to link up their fruit with the one across the room. Professor Flitwick swished his wand and all the mounds of fruit pulp, seeds, and rivers of sticky juice vanished. Still, the sixth years still smelled decidedly like fruit punch, and their shoes had a tendency to stick to the floor as they walked down the corridor. Harry's spirits had dropped significantly during the lesson, though; his difficulty in mastering the linking charm had made him worry about the charms he was supposed to be learning for Professor McGonagall.
"Hermione," he said, "how much of that book have you read?"
She shrugged, swinging her bag higher onto her shoulder. "Twelve chapters or so. Why?"
"Do you want to work on the charms together?"
Hermione smiled brightly. "Of course! I was hoping you'd ask—I was afraid you'd put them off. We can start tonight, if you like."
"Hang on," Ron interrupted. "We've got our Care of Magical Creatures homework due tomorrow. We have that entire essay to write."
"Oh, of course," Hermione frowned. "If we get to the library straight away after dinner, then we might be able to finish the essay in time to practice the first chapter or two."
They hurried on to their potions lesson. They were starting a new potion that day, one that induced lethargy in whoever took it without actually putting them to sleep. Snape had reverted to ignoring Harry's existence, and, although Hermione's grades must have risen since they weren't working in partners any more, Harry knew that his were barely hovering at the passing level.
Draco Malfoy and his fellow Slytherins had been unusually quiet for the last month, and Harry couldn't help thinking that they were planning something. Sure enough, once they'd gotten started on their potions, the Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy began looking surreptitiously at the Gryffindors and laughing as though they knew something. After three-quarters of an hour of this, Harry threw down his crocodile heart in frustration, and, turning toward Malfoy, hissed, "What?"
Malfoy grinned. "You're going to regret having a go at my father, Potter," he said quietly.
"Nah, don't think I am," Harry said, dismissively, turning away from Malfoy.
"Oh, you are," Maloy drawled. "I know you are. You'll regret it for the rest of your short little life."
"I'm terrified," Harry said casually, adding half a cup of wombat saliva to the mixture. "You and your chums going to teach me a lesson, are you?" He looked over at Ron out of the corner of his eye. Ron was watching Malfoy, his wand hovering slightly above the surface of his potion. Ron looked as though, had Snape not been standing just feet away berating Seamus Finnigan for adding his rattlesnake skin too soon, he would have lifted his wand and conjured something large and heavy over Malfoy's head.
"We don't need to," Draco said ominously.
"Think your Dad and his Death Eater chums are going to escape, do you?" Ron said, tossing his diced hawk's liver into his cauldron with a loud splash.
"The dementors are on our side," Malfoy snapped back, eyes bright, a knowing smirk on his face. "There's no prison that can hold my father back. And once he's free, your little friends will start to disappear—one by one."
"Oh, do shut up, Malfoy," Hermione snapped suddenly. "You're not scaring anyone with your empty threats."
"Empty threats?" Draco said, raising an eyebrow. "You'll be singing a different tune soon, Granger. It'll be the mudbloods who go first—"
"You'll pay for that, Malfoy!" Ron said, plunging a hand inside his robes. Hermione grabbed his elbow, shaking her head slightly.
"Leave him to me," she whispered. Malfoy turned around, toward Pansy who was the last of his cronies in the lesson. They were laughing and muttering something under their breath. Hermione grabbed her measuring cup full of wombat saliva, and emptied it into Malfoy's cauldron with one quick, furtive motion. "Stand back," she whispered, and Ron and Harry both took a slow, long step backward.
Draco's cauldron rattled loudly as the potion went from green and fluid to a sticky pink mass like cotton candy mixed with used chewing gum. Malfoy turned back around to check the potion, one eyebrow slightly raised. He peered into the cauldron for a moment. Then, with a loud "Hwoof!" the potion burst out of the cauldron and plastered itself over Malfoy's face and clothes.
The Gryffindor side of the room exploded in laughter at the sight of Draco Malfoy covered in thick pink goo. Malfoy started to squeal in pain and Pansy shrieked shrilly.
"Take him to the hospital wing," Snape said, and one of the Slytherin boys grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him toward the door. "Who," Snape went on, "is responsible for this?"
"Sir," said Nott, glaring at Hermione, "she did it! She dropped wombat saliva in his cauldron!"
"Did she now?" Snape said, his gaze fixing on Hermione and flicking, for only a second or two, toward Ron and Harry. "Tut, tut, Miss Granger. Ten points from Gryffindor and detention. See me after class."
Just then, the bell rang. Harry hastily bottled up his lethargy potion and sat the flask on Snape's desk. Hermione had to stay behind to arrange her detention with Snape, so Ron and Harry went ahead to the Great Hall and saved her a seat. She appeared a few minutes later, and slid onto the bench next to Ron, frowning.
"What's he have you doing?" Ron asked, eagerly. "Disembowling frogs? Scouring bedpans?"
"No," Hermione frowned. "I have to inventory and label all the potions ingredients in the cupboards. It'll take ages, but at least it'll be informative."
"That git," Ron muttered. "If it had been one of us, he just would've yelled at us for getting it wrong."
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Anyway, Draco deserved it. Wonder what that potion'll do to him?"
"If I did it properly," Hermione said, half-smiling behind the chicken wing she was eating, "then it'll grow porcupine quills on his face. Madame Pomfrey will have to pluck them one by one."
Harry and Ron grinned appreciatively at Hermione.
After dinner they headed for the library. It was crowded with fifth year students, all of whom were busily scribbling on long pieces of parchment.
"I wonder if Ginny is here, too?" Ron said idly, looking around at the crowd.
"She'd better not be," Harry said. "She's supposed to be teaching Eva how to score tonight."
They looked around for a place to sit, and eventually spotted an empty table in a dim, dusty corner of the library, behind a shelf of particularly dull-looking books about predicting astronomical angles and extinct magical species. They sat down, and Harry began pulling books from his bag.
Care of Magical Creatures was now, honestly, one of Harry's favorite lessons. The departure of Umbridge seemed to have heartened Hagrid, and he was covering the many varieties of spirit creatures with a fervor he usually reserved for horrible, deadly monsters. Over the last month, besides the Wraiths and Wailers, they had done just one other benign spirit, the Deeping Specter, a horrible looking thing with the slimy, greyish skin of a toad's belly.
Just as they had gotten used to the idea that these bizarre creatures were constantly around, watching, Hagrid had moved them up to Active creatures. They had started with Water Elementals, Undines. They were beautiful, with soft, round faces and translucent skin like a jellyfish. Unfortunately, they were also very bad-tempered, and had a tendency to spray salt water at the eyes of anyone who came too close. Air Elementals, Sylphs, were hard to keep visible. Their bodies were as insubstantial as a whiff of smoke in the breeze, but they had a better temper than the Undines, at least. They could be persuaded to guide a person to a lost item or toward a place where they should be. From there they had moved on to truly nasty spirit creatures. They had started on a little spirit called a Picket. The Picket was a strange little spirit that looked like a large, smoky ball with a wide mouth. It was a thief, and the Gryffindors quickly learned to empty their pockets and leave everything except their oldest quills and bits of parchments behind before they had lessons with the Picket. The only way to get back something it had stolen was to reach into its belly through its mouth, which was so unpleasant that it was much easier to just give up on the items as gone.
Hagrid had also begun giving them homework on a regular basis, something which he had never really bothered with before. The essay they were working on tonight was meant to compare all of the creatures they had seen thus far. They were supposed to draw each one, describe its traits and characteristics, and detail the spell used to see it. They spread their parchment over the table, and opened their textbooks to the chapter on Spirit creatures.
"Right," said Ron, writing the title of the essay at the top. "Shall we start with the wraiths?" Harry and Hermione nodded, and their quills began scratching back and forth across the page, sketching the ghastly shapes of the European Wraiths. Harry wrote a few sentences about the Wraiths, diagrammed the wand movements of the 'mannes acclarare' charm, and moved on to the wailers. By helping each other along, they zipped through the Wailers and he Deeping Specter fairly quickly.
"Oh, hello," said a dreamy voice behind them. Harry turned, and spotted Luna Lovegood, her wand tucked behind her ear, and a teetering stack of books in her arms. She had her hair in a ponytail, and she had put her quill just behind the elastic, so that the feather stuck straight up in the air.
"Hello, Luna," Harry said. He moved to set down the textbook he was holding up as he flicked through the illustrations for a picture of a undine. "Do you need any help with those?"
"Oh, no. We're just working on a History of Magic essay," she said, nodding toward a table a few shelves away, where four Ravenclaw fifth years were bent low over their parchment.
"That's nice," said Hermione.
"Yes, isn't it," said Luna, dropping the stack of books on the edge of the table, so that all their ink bottles rattled and Ron's roll of parchment rolled away. She peered over Harry's shoulder at the illustrations in his textbook. "What are you working on?" she asked. "Oh, spirit creatures! How exciting! I've heard all about them from my father, of course. I really like them—especially the Kell."
Harry frowned. Ron looked over his book with a worried expression. "What are the Kell?" he asked. "They're not another elemental, are they?"
"There's no such thing," said Hermione in a bored voice, without even looking up from her parchment.
"There is," Luna insisted. "They're spirits of time. If you can find them, you can persuade them to go back and change history."
Harry dropped his book. It banged loudly on the table and Madame Pince hissed viciously at them from some hidden recess of the library. "Are you serious?" he asked. "They can change history?" Suddenly, blood was rushing into his head. If there were creatures that could change time, and he could find them, there was so much he could do. He could save Sirius—no, he could go back and catch Wormtail in their third year and stop Voldemort from rising again—or better yet, he could go back to when he was a baby and stop Voldemort from killing his parents in the first place—
"There's no such thing," Hermione said in a more stern voice. She sat her quill down on her parchment. "First off, you can't change time. You just can't." Harry knew that the firmness in Hermione's voice came from her experience with the time-turner—she knew more about meddling with time than any of them. "And I happen to have heard of the Kell. They're the spirit creature that the wizard who invented the time-turner claimed to have made contact with. According to him, they're energy beings who live in the dimension of time, rather than space. He claimed that they were out there, but we just can't find them because they live on such a different plane of existence."
"Wait—" Ron said, frowning. "If you can't contact them, then how would we even know they exist?"
"Exactly," Hermione said, picking up her quill. "The whole thing was wishful thinking. But it did inspire the time-turner, so at least some good came of it."
Luna scowled at Hermione. "Everyone knows how he knew—he met a man who used to be Kell."
"That's ridiculous. That's like saying you met a man who used to be a hippogriff," Hermione said. Harry tried not to chuckle. Ron, however, looked doubtful. He muttered something about "animagus" under his breath.
"You just don't believe in anything until you've read about it in a book," Luna said, still scowling. "I bet you don't even believe in Hydropicties."
"Of course I don't," Hermione said, "because they don't exist either."
"Hydropicties?" Ron asked.
"Water spirits. Supposedly, they can save the drowning, raise sunken ships from the sea, that sort of thing," Hermione said. "Wizards crossing the oceans used to do spells and bring them gifts to try and befriend them, but never once in all of recorded history did anyone ever see one. It's just more wishful thinking."
"Well where did they come from, then?" Harry asked. "The story had to come from somewhere."
"They're invisible," Luna said. Her voice had lost its dreaminess entirely, and had an edge of irritation. "But when you're in the hull of a boat on a still night, you can hear them whispering."
"It's just distant whale song," Hermione said.
Luna had picked up her books again. "I have to go," she said briskly. "I'll be over there," she added, nodding toward the Ravenclaw table, "if you need me. I know all about spirit creatures, you know."
"Thanks, Luna," Harry said. "If we need help, we'll call."
Hermione watched her go, barely hiding her frustration. She seemed to hold an inner battle for a moment, and then threw down her quill. "It's no use. Luna just gets right under my skin—I can't concentrate on this now."
"It's due Thursday," Ron pointed out.
"Then I'll work on it tomorrow," Hermione said quickly. "Harry, I brought 'Charmes, Spelles, and Enchantmentes' with me, if you want to go over a bit of it."
"Sure," Harry said, dropping his own quill across the freshly drawn sketch of an undine. "We can finish this later."
"Hey—" Ron protested feebly.
"You can help if you like, Ron," Hermione added quickly.
"Er," said Ron, perhaps a bit warily.
Hermione summarized the first chapter for them, and they started practicing the Evasion charm, a charm that drew a map to the nearest exit in midair. Hermione, who had been practicing already, demonstrated it, and a perfect, shimmering gold model of the library appeared at the end of her wand, her position marked in red, and the best escape route picked out in glimmering green. Ron tried it next, and a map appeared, but his was neither as detailed nor as accurate as Hermione's. Harry's attempt was no more successful as Ron's, but she assured them it was a good start. After a few more tries, they opened the book to the second chapter, which was all about self-vanishing spells. Hermione was nervous about trying that one without a teacher to watch, but Ron was all for it.
"It's like disapparating, isn't it?" Ron said, impressed. He tried vanishing himself, and overbalanced, falling into a chair.
"Of course it isn't," Hermione said in frustration. "How many times do I have to tell you? You—"
"—can't apparate or disapparate in the school," Harry finished. "Yeah, we know. It's in 'Hogwarts, a History,' right? But Ron's right, isn't he? It is a bit like apparating."
"Well, not really. It's an entirely different principle. With disapparating, you're actually traveling, right? Moving through space. With vanishing, you just make yourself disappear. You can only vanish yourself a little way—"
"But you still disappear and reappear somewhere else," Ron objected.
"Anyway, it's a very different principal from apparition," Hermione went on, "You don't control when and where you land, distance is limited, and it's just enough to give you a head start for a good run in a fight. Besides, you aren't traveling, really, you're vanishing yourself. Same as you vanish frogs and things."
"I thought that when we vanished things, they disappeared," Ron said.
"They have to turn up eventually, don't they?" Hermione said, flicking to the next chapter. "Nothing just vanishes forever."
Harry wondered about all the odd things they'd vanished in the previous year. He imagined piles and piles of snails and mice appearing suddenly in Aunt Petunia's kitchen. He hoped they landed on top of Dudley.
In the end, they agreed that Harry should ask McGonagall for help with the self-vanishing spell before they tried it. They went on to practice the spells in the third and fourth chapters, one that made you speed up so you could run faster and one that made you very flexible, so you could slip into small spaces. Harry managed to fold himself up small enough to fit neatly into a suitcase, although he found it decidedly uncomfortable. By that time they had made enough noise that Madame Pince came over, her face red, and chased them unceremoniously from the library.
It was nearly nine, so they retreated to the common room, intending to continue their practice. Even Harry had to admit that it was fun learning such strange and useful charms, but, unfortunately, someone had let off a Weasley's Wailing Whiffer—a nasty little device just like a dungbomb except that it also made a loud, crying noise when set off. Hermione shot a silencing charm at it, but that only made it louder, so they said goodnight and hurried up to their dorms. The wailer was quieter there, but still obnoxiously noisy. Dean and Seamus were sitting in bed, reading with earmuffs on, while Neville was asleep with his head under a pillow.
"Somebody tried to Silence it, didn't they?" Dean said over the whining. "We tried that. It just gets louder every time."
"Fred and George will be chuffed," Ron said, although he didn't look at all pleased.
"Yeah," Harry said. "What did they say about the Evolving Fluffblasters?"
"Nothing," Ron said, dismally. "I sent them the owl ages ago, but they haven't replied. I expect," he added, his voice growng bitter, "they're too busy to bother."
"Give them a bit more time," Harry suggested. Privately, though, he thought it strange that Fred and George hadn't answered Ron's owl. If it had been Percy, he wouldn't have wondered—
That brought another thought to mind.
"Ron," he said quickly, "what happened with Percy?"
"Him," Ron said, his voice getting even harsher. "Still hasn't apologized, has he? Even now that he's been proven wrong, he still won't go to Dad and say he's sorry. Fudge still disapproves of Dad, and Percy's still standing behind Fudge." He scowled. "But if Fudge's popularity keeps falling, he won't be Minister much longer."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "You think so?"
"Yeah," Ron said. "And then Percy will be out of a job, and I'll bet my broomstick that he goes running back to Mum and Dad, apologizing." Ron looked so glum now, that Harry tried to change the subject.
"Speaking of broomsticks, the, er, first quidditch match is coming up soon—" he began, but, just then, the wailing-whiffer had grown twice as loud.
"Stop Silencing it!" Seamus bellowed at the door, and Neville's leg kicked violently in his sleep.
"This is hopeless!" Harry said, pressing his hands over his ears. "Somebody throw it out a window!"
"Then Filch will try to get us all expelled!" Ron said, half-shouting over the noise. "And it'll wake up the whole castle!"
"What?" Dean shouted.
"WAKE UP THE CASTLE," Harry shouted back.
"Yes, it is a hassle," Dean shouted back, "and at this rate, it'll wake everyone up, too!" Ron shook his head, disgusted.
There was a knock on the dormitory door—actually, it was more of a loud banging, like someone had kicked it hard with their foot. Harry got up to see who it was, but this meant he had to lower his hand to open the door. He felt like his ears would bleed from the loud, high-pitched noise. He pulled the door open to find Hermione. She was wearing a pair of fuzzy lavendar earmuffs, and carrying several more. She said something that Harry couldn't hear over the wailing.
"WHAT?" he shouted. Hermione lifted one side of the earmuffs slightly off her ear.
"I'VE HAD A THOUGHT!" she shouted back. "THESE ARE SPELLED! PUT THEM ON!"
She handed Harry a pair, and he pulled them on. Instantly, the wailing stopped. His ears still throbbed from the racket, but it was such a relief.
"Thanks," he mouthed to Hermione.
"Don't mention it," she mouthed back, handing him the earmuffs. Harry closed the door, and tossed a pair to Ron, who looked at him doubtfully before pulling them on. His whole body seemed to sag with relief. Harry tossed pairs to Dean and Seamus as well, who eagerly pulled them on. Seamus took the spare pair and slipped it over Neville's sleeping head. Neville's foot kicked again.
The earmuffs blessedly knocked out the noise, but they also meant that all conversation had ceased. It was a bit early for bed, but, as there was nothing else to do, Harry flopped down. He pulled out the huge book of spells and began to read ahead a bit. It was rather dry—Hermione's summaries were much more interesting—but he read the explanations behind the charms and spells in the next chapters with interest. He read until well after everyone else had dropped off, and, at last, he read himself to sleep.
******
Reviewer Responses:
Wynjara: No kidding. The big slacker.
MulledMead: And I could've gotten away with it, if it weren't for you meddling kids!
Caught me red-handed. I was hoping nobody would notice Katie Bell's conspicuous absence… but I ought to know that HP fans are too quick on the uptake for that. Okay, here's what happened.
I started writing this right after I moved to Japan in August. At that point, I'd read Order of the Pheonix twice, but somehow I missed Angelina's commnet that Katie would still be there the next year both times. Up until then, though, I couldn't find a single place where it listed (explicitly) what year Katie was, so I decided to make a good-faith guess. In Philosopher's/Sorceror's Stone, Lee Jordan says that Katie was a reserve player "last year." First-years never make the house teams, and I assumed that would extend to reserves, so, for me, that pegged Katie as a third-year, which would mean she'd be gone by this book. Obviously, my logic was flawed. *sigh*
After I had already written the first ten chapters or so—and begun to post them!—I reread OotP and caught that quote.
"Oh, smack," I said to myself. "If Katies on th team still, then I bet she'd be captain, not Harry. But it's too late to edit all that out of what I've written/planned. What will I do?" So I was left with two options—abandon the fic—or go on and hope nobody mentioned Katie.
You can see how well that turned out.
So, my apologies on this glaring error in my text, and curses (kudos?) to you for catching it. It's too late for me to fix, so let's… um… assume that Katie's family was kidnapped by Death Eaters over the summer. Or… she transferred to Beauxbatons. Or… she took a Kwikspell course and graduated early. Pick your unlikely explanation. :)
Sasinak: Yeah, me too! Just think of all the Ron/Dean friction that leaves for me to play with…
Wiccan PussyKat: I AM SO SORRY. I don't know how that happened—but rest assured, it wasn't intentional!!! Please don't be offended. I apologize most sincerely. I'm glad you found that chapter interesting! I once found all the quidditch stuff boring too, but I've grown to like it over time. Still, it won't take up HUGE amounts of text here, besides the games, of course. I was happy for Kirke coming back to the team, too. Hope he lives up to our expectations.
EriEka127: Thanks!
I'm considering doing some illustrations from the fic, beyond the drawing of Mira (available at http://www.tokkiproject.com/~neoepiphany) If you would be interested in that, please let me know, because I don't wish to bother if no one would look.
Thanks much,
Neoepiphany*****
Chapter Fourteen
Spelled and Misspelled
Their first quidditch practice as a new team worked out better than Harry had hoped. Since all three of the chasers were new, Harry spent a lot of time forcing them to run drills to get used to flying with one another. Kirke wasn't too bad, although he still had a tendency to get intimidated by the opposition and fly in the opposite direction. Eva Gregory was an impressive flier. She had a new Cleansweep, and she knew how to use it; she could zip around the people on the field, circling them easily. Ginny was pretty good, and, although Ron tended to be much harder on her when she made a mistake, she had a good attitude and spent a lot of time helping her fellow chasers. He insisted on two pracitices a week, the dates of which were constantly readjusted as the balmy, late-summer weather became chillier and rainier autumn.
As busy as he was with the DA and his quidditch captain duties, Harry barely noticed when September suddenly became October. They were covering really difficult subjects in their lessons, and Harry's homework had begun to mount. Tonks had assigned them the task of constructing a complicated and difficult ward as homework, and then promptly moved on to a series of difficult curses and counter-jinxes. McGonagall had them conjuring more complex items now, and, after a transfiguration lesson, the classroom was often full of bizarre objects ranging from fluffy slippers and wooden stepladders, to brightly colored plastic beach balls and trays of frosted muffins. Professor Flitwick, meanwhile, had finished with barrier charms—each Gryffindor could now draw an Age Line, a Gender Line, a Height Line, and an Identity Line—and had started them on linking charms.
"Ooh, Harry," Hermione said excitably, as she magically linked her banana to a mango across the room, "this charm is the basis of all the linking spells in 'Charms, Spelles, and Enchantmentes.' Once you've got this down, they should be no problem for you!" She paused, and looked suspiciously at Harry. "You have been practicing those charms, haven't you?"
"Er, right," Harry said, as he tried to link his own pineapple to one on Professor Flitwick's desk. In truth, he hadn't really thought about the charm book. He had two and a half weeks left until his meeting with McGonagoll, and his mind had been too full of DA meetings and quiddtich techniques to worry much about it.
Hermione pursed her lips. Harry thought for a moment that she was going to lecture him about getting behind, and idly considered shooting a silencing charm at her, but Ron spoke before Hermione.
"How are we supposed to know when this works?" he said, scowling. "You can't tell any difference between the fruit before and after, can you? So how are we supposed to know when we've done it?"
"Like this," Hermione said. She aimed her wand at her banana. "Reducio!" The banana detonated, spraying Hermione, Harry, Ron, and everyone sitting behind them, with sticky white banana pulp. Meanwhile, across the room, the mango had exploded as well, showering Professor Flitwick with sticky juice. He didn't seem at all daunted, however, and congratulated Hermione on her accomplishment.
Harry was reasonably sure he'd managed to link his pineapple up to the other one, so he pointed his own wand at it. "Reducio!" A shower of pineapple juice and bright yellow pineapple meat sprayed across his and Ron's already banana coated robes. Hermione had dived under the desk, and so the blast of juice hit Lavender Brown, who was sitting behind her. Unfortunately, the other pineapple remained resolutely whole.
"Keep trying," said tiny Professor Flitwick pulling a coconut out of the box of fruit on his desk and setting it in front of Harry. "Tricky magic, this. You'll get it eventually."
"It's not so hard," Hermione added, encouragingly. "And once you've got it, you can do loads of other linking spells! Really, it isn't hard at all once you—"
"It's easy for you to say," Ron muttered. "You've been doing the Protean charm for ages, and that loads harder."
"Oh, Ron," Hermione said, but she looked pleased with herself.
By the end of class, Harry and Ron each successfully managed to link up their fruit with the one across the room. Professor Flitwick swished his wand and all the mounds of fruit pulp, seeds, and rivers of sticky juice vanished. Still, the sixth years still smelled decidedly like fruit punch, and their shoes had a tendency to stick to the floor as they walked down the corridor. Harry's spirits had dropped significantly during the lesson, though; his difficulty in mastering the linking charm had made him worry about the charms he was supposed to be learning for Professor McGonagall.
"Hermione," he said, "how much of that book have you read?"
She shrugged, swinging her bag higher onto her shoulder. "Twelve chapters or so. Why?"
"Do you want to work on the charms together?"
Hermione smiled brightly. "Of course! I was hoping you'd ask—I was afraid you'd put them off. We can start tonight, if you like."
"Hang on," Ron interrupted. "We've got our Care of Magical Creatures homework due tomorrow. We have that entire essay to write."
"Oh, of course," Hermione frowned. "If we get to the library straight away after dinner, then we might be able to finish the essay in time to practice the first chapter or two."
They hurried on to their potions lesson. They were starting a new potion that day, one that induced lethargy in whoever took it without actually putting them to sleep. Snape had reverted to ignoring Harry's existence, and, although Hermione's grades must have risen since they weren't working in partners any more, Harry knew that his were barely hovering at the passing level.
Draco Malfoy and his fellow Slytherins had been unusually quiet for the last month, and Harry couldn't help thinking that they were planning something. Sure enough, once they'd gotten started on their potions, the Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy began looking surreptitiously at the Gryffindors and laughing as though they knew something. After three-quarters of an hour of this, Harry threw down his crocodile heart in frustration, and, turning toward Malfoy, hissed, "What?"
Malfoy grinned. "You're going to regret having a go at my father, Potter," he said quietly.
"Nah, don't think I am," Harry said, dismissively, turning away from Malfoy.
"Oh, you are," Maloy drawled. "I know you are. You'll regret it for the rest of your short little life."
"I'm terrified," Harry said casually, adding half a cup of wombat saliva to the mixture. "You and your chums going to teach me a lesson, are you?" He looked over at Ron out of the corner of his eye. Ron was watching Malfoy, his wand hovering slightly above the surface of his potion. Ron looked as though, had Snape not been standing just feet away berating Seamus Finnigan for adding his rattlesnake skin too soon, he would have lifted his wand and conjured something large and heavy over Malfoy's head.
"We don't need to," Draco said ominously.
"Think your Dad and his Death Eater chums are going to escape, do you?" Ron said, tossing his diced hawk's liver into his cauldron with a loud splash.
"The dementors are on our side," Malfoy snapped back, eyes bright, a knowing smirk on his face. "There's no prison that can hold my father back. And once he's free, your little friends will start to disappear—one by one."
"Oh, do shut up, Malfoy," Hermione snapped suddenly. "You're not scaring anyone with your empty threats."
"Empty threats?" Draco said, raising an eyebrow. "You'll be singing a different tune soon, Granger. It'll be the mudbloods who go first—"
"You'll pay for that, Malfoy!" Ron said, plunging a hand inside his robes. Hermione grabbed his elbow, shaking her head slightly.
"Leave him to me," she whispered. Malfoy turned around, toward Pansy who was the last of his cronies in the lesson. They were laughing and muttering something under their breath. Hermione grabbed her measuring cup full of wombat saliva, and emptied it into Malfoy's cauldron with one quick, furtive motion. "Stand back," she whispered, and Ron and Harry both took a slow, long step backward.
Draco's cauldron rattled loudly as the potion went from green and fluid to a sticky pink mass like cotton candy mixed with used chewing gum. Malfoy turned back around to check the potion, one eyebrow slightly raised. He peered into the cauldron for a moment. Then, with a loud "Hwoof!" the potion burst out of the cauldron and plastered itself over Malfoy's face and clothes.
The Gryffindor side of the room exploded in laughter at the sight of Draco Malfoy covered in thick pink goo. Malfoy started to squeal in pain and Pansy shrieked shrilly.
"Take him to the hospital wing," Snape said, and one of the Slytherin boys grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him toward the door. "Who," Snape went on, "is responsible for this?"
"Sir," said Nott, glaring at Hermione, "she did it! She dropped wombat saliva in his cauldron!"
"Did she now?" Snape said, his gaze fixing on Hermione and flicking, for only a second or two, toward Ron and Harry. "Tut, tut, Miss Granger. Ten points from Gryffindor and detention. See me after class."
Just then, the bell rang. Harry hastily bottled up his lethargy potion and sat the flask on Snape's desk. Hermione had to stay behind to arrange her detention with Snape, so Ron and Harry went ahead to the Great Hall and saved her a seat. She appeared a few minutes later, and slid onto the bench next to Ron, frowning.
"What's he have you doing?" Ron asked, eagerly. "Disembowling frogs? Scouring bedpans?"
"No," Hermione frowned. "I have to inventory and label all the potions ingredients in the cupboards. It'll take ages, but at least it'll be informative."
"That git," Ron muttered. "If it had been one of us, he just would've yelled at us for getting it wrong."
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Anyway, Draco deserved it. Wonder what that potion'll do to him?"
"If I did it properly," Hermione said, half-smiling behind the chicken wing she was eating, "then it'll grow porcupine quills on his face. Madame Pomfrey will have to pluck them one by one."
Harry and Ron grinned appreciatively at Hermione.
After dinner they headed for the library. It was crowded with fifth year students, all of whom were busily scribbling on long pieces of parchment.
"I wonder if Ginny is here, too?" Ron said idly, looking around at the crowd.
"She'd better not be," Harry said. "She's supposed to be teaching Eva how to score tonight."
They looked around for a place to sit, and eventually spotted an empty table in a dim, dusty corner of the library, behind a shelf of particularly dull-looking books about predicting astronomical angles and extinct magical species. They sat down, and Harry began pulling books from his bag.
Care of Magical Creatures was now, honestly, one of Harry's favorite lessons. The departure of Umbridge seemed to have heartened Hagrid, and he was covering the many varieties of spirit creatures with a fervor he usually reserved for horrible, deadly monsters. Over the last month, besides the Wraiths and Wailers, they had done just one other benign spirit, the Deeping Specter, a horrible looking thing with the slimy, greyish skin of a toad's belly.
Just as they had gotten used to the idea that these bizarre creatures were constantly around, watching, Hagrid had moved them up to Active creatures. They had started with Water Elementals, Undines. They were beautiful, with soft, round faces and translucent skin like a jellyfish. Unfortunately, they were also very bad-tempered, and had a tendency to spray salt water at the eyes of anyone who came too close. Air Elementals, Sylphs, were hard to keep visible. Their bodies were as insubstantial as a whiff of smoke in the breeze, but they had a better temper than the Undines, at least. They could be persuaded to guide a person to a lost item or toward a place where they should be. From there they had moved on to truly nasty spirit creatures. They had started on a little spirit called a Picket. The Picket was a strange little spirit that looked like a large, smoky ball with a wide mouth. It was a thief, and the Gryffindors quickly learned to empty their pockets and leave everything except their oldest quills and bits of parchments behind before they had lessons with the Picket. The only way to get back something it had stolen was to reach into its belly through its mouth, which was so unpleasant that it was much easier to just give up on the items as gone.
Hagrid had also begun giving them homework on a regular basis, something which he had never really bothered with before. The essay they were working on tonight was meant to compare all of the creatures they had seen thus far. They were supposed to draw each one, describe its traits and characteristics, and detail the spell used to see it. They spread their parchment over the table, and opened their textbooks to the chapter on Spirit creatures.
"Right," said Ron, writing the title of the essay at the top. "Shall we start with the wraiths?" Harry and Hermione nodded, and their quills began scratching back and forth across the page, sketching the ghastly shapes of the European Wraiths. Harry wrote a few sentences about the Wraiths, diagrammed the wand movements of the 'mannes acclarare' charm, and moved on to the wailers. By helping each other along, they zipped through the Wailers and he Deeping Specter fairly quickly.
"Oh, hello," said a dreamy voice behind them. Harry turned, and spotted Luna Lovegood, her wand tucked behind her ear, and a teetering stack of books in her arms. She had her hair in a ponytail, and she had put her quill just behind the elastic, so that the feather stuck straight up in the air.
"Hello, Luna," Harry said. He moved to set down the textbook he was holding up as he flicked through the illustrations for a picture of a undine. "Do you need any help with those?"
"Oh, no. We're just working on a History of Magic essay," she said, nodding toward a table a few shelves away, where four Ravenclaw fifth years were bent low over their parchment.
"That's nice," said Hermione.
"Yes, isn't it," said Luna, dropping the stack of books on the edge of the table, so that all their ink bottles rattled and Ron's roll of parchment rolled away. She peered over Harry's shoulder at the illustrations in his textbook. "What are you working on?" she asked. "Oh, spirit creatures! How exciting! I've heard all about them from my father, of course. I really like them—especially the Kell."
Harry frowned. Ron looked over his book with a worried expression. "What are the Kell?" he asked. "They're not another elemental, are they?"
"There's no such thing," said Hermione in a bored voice, without even looking up from her parchment.
"There is," Luna insisted. "They're spirits of time. If you can find them, you can persuade them to go back and change history."
Harry dropped his book. It banged loudly on the table and Madame Pince hissed viciously at them from some hidden recess of the library. "Are you serious?" he asked. "They can change history?" Suddenly, blood was rushing into his head. If there were creatures that could change time, and he could find them, there was so much he could do. He could save Sirius—no, he could go back and catch Wormtail in their third year and stop Voldemort from rising again—or better yet, he could go back to when he was a baby and stop Voldemort from killing his parents in the first place—
"There's no such thing," Hermione said in a more stern voice. She sat her quill down on her parchment. "First off, you can't change time. You just can't." Harry knew that the firmness in Hermione's voice came from her experience with the time-turner—she knew more about meddling with time than any of them. "And I happen to have heard of the Kell. They're the spirit creature that the wizard who invented the time-turner claimed to have made contact with. According to him, they're energy beings who live in the dimension of time, rather than space. He claimed that they were out there, but we just can't find them because they live on such a different plane of existence."
"Wait—" Ron said, frowning. "If you can't contact them, then how would we even know they exist?"
"Exactly," Hermione said, picking up her quill. "The whole thing was wishful thinking. But it did inspire the time-turner, so at least some good came of it."
Luna scowled at Hermione. "Everyone knows how he knew—he met a man who used to be Kell."
"That's ridiculous. That's like saying you met a man who used to be a hippogriff," Hermione said. Harry tried not to chuckle. Ron, however, looked doubtful. He muttered something about "animagus" under his breath.
"You just don't believe in anything until you've read about it in a book," Luna said, still scowling. "I bet you don't even believe in Hydropicties."
"Of course I don't," Hermione said, "because they don't exist either."
"Hydropicties?" Ron asked.
"Water spirits. Supposedly, they can save the drowning, raise sunken ships from the sea, that sort of thing," Hermione said. "Wizards crossing the oceans used to do spells and bring them gifts to try and befriend them, but never once in all of recorded history did anyone ever see one. It's just more wishful thinking."
"Well where did they come from, then?" Harry asked. "The story had to come from somewhere."
"They're invisible," Luna said. Her voice had lost its dreaminess entirely, and had an edge of irritation. "But when you're in the hull of a boat on a still night, you can hear them whispering."
"It's just distant whale song," Hermione said.
Luna had picked up her books again. "I have to go," she said briskly. "I'll be over there," she added, nodding toward the Ravenclaw table, "if you need me. I know all about spirit creatures, you know."
"Thanks, Luna," Harry said. "If we need help, we'll call."
Hermione watched her go, barely hiding her frustration. She seemed to hold an inner battle for a moment, and then threw down her quill. "It's no use. Luna just gets right under my skin—I can't concentrate on this now."
"It's due Thursday," Ron pointed out.
"Then I'll work on it tomorrow," Hermione said quickly. "Harry, I brought 'Charmes, Spelles, and Enchantmentes' with me, if you want to go over a bit of it."
"Sure," Harry said, dropping his own quill across the freshly drawn sketch of an undine. "We can finish this later."
"Hey—" Ron protested feebly.
"You can help if you like, Ron," Hermione added quickly.
"Er," said Ron, perhaps a bit warily.
Hermione summarized the first chapter for them, and they started practicing the Evasion charm, a charm that drew a map to the nearest exit in midair. Hermione, who had been practicing already, demonstrated it, and a perfect, shimmering gold model of the library appeared at the end of her wand, her position marked in red, and the best escape route picked out in glimmering green. Ron tried it next, and a map appeared, but his was neither as detailed nor as accurate as Hermione's. Harry's attempt was no more successful as Ron's, but she assured them it was a good start. After a few more tries, they opened the book to the second chapter, which was all about self-vanishing spells. Hermione was nervous about trying that one without a teacher to watch, but Ron was all for it.
"It's like disapparating, isn't it?" Ron said, impressed. He tried vanishing himself, and overbalanced, falling into a chair.
"Of course it isn't," Hermione said in frustration. "How many times do I have to tell you? You—"
"—can't apparate or disapparate in the school," Harry finished. "Yeah, we know. It's in 'Hogwarts, a History,' right? But Ron's right, isn't he? It is a bit like apparating."
"Well, not really. It's an entirely different principle. With disapparating, you're actually traveling, right? Moving through space. With vanishing, you just make yourself disappear. You can only vanish yourself a little way—"
"But you still disappear and reappear somewhere else," Ron objected.
"Anyway, it's a very different principal from apparition," Hermione went on, "You don't control when and where you land, distance is limited, and it's just enough to give you a head start for a good run in a fight. Besides, you aren't traveling, really, you're vanishing yourself. Same as you vanish frogs and things."
"I thought that when we vanished things, they disappeared," Ron said.
"They have to turn up eventually, don't they?" Hermione said, flicking to the next chapter. "Nothing just vanishes forever."
Harry wondered about all the odd things they'd vanished in the previous year. He imagined piles and piles of snails and mice appearing suddenly in Aunt Petunia's kitchen. He hoped they landed on top of Dudley.
In the end, they agreed that Harry should ask McGonagall for help with the self-vanishing spell before they tried it. They went on to practice the spells in the third and fourth chapters, one that made you speed up so you could run faster and one that made you very flexible, so you could slip into small spaces. Harry managed to fold himself up small enough to fit neatly into a suitcase, although he found it decidedly uncomfortable. By that time they had made enough noise that Madame Pince came over, her face red, and chased them unceremoniously from the library.
It was nearly nine, so they retreated to the common room, intending to continue their practice. Even Harry had to admit that it was fun learning such strange and useful charms, but, unfortunately, someone had let off a Weasley's Wailing Whiffer—a nasty little device just like a dungbomb except that it also made a loud, crying noise when set off. Hermione shot a silencing charm at it, but that only made it louder, so they said goodnight and hurried up to their dorms. The wailer was quieter there, but still obnoxiously noisy. Dean and Seamus were sitting in bed, reading with earmuffs on, while Neville was asleep with his head under a pillow.
"Somebody tried to Silence it, didn't they?" Dean said over the whining. "We tried that. It just gets louder every time."
"Fred and George will be chuffed," Ron said, although he didn't look at all pleased.
"Yeah," Harry said. "What did they say about the Evolving Fluffblasters?"
"Nothing," Ron said, dismally. "I sent them the owl ages ago, but they haven't replied. I expect," he added, his voice growng bitter, "they're too busy to bother."
"Give them a bit more time," Harry suggested. Privately, though, he thought it strange that Fred and George hadn't answered Ron's owl. If it had been Percy, he wouldn't have wondered—
That brought another thought to mind.
"Ron," he said quickly, "what happened with Percy?"
"Him," Ron said, his voice getting even harsher. "Still hasn't apologized, has he? Even now that he's been proven wrong, he still won't go to Dad and say he's sorry. Fudge still disapproves of Dad, and Percy's still standing behind Fudge." He scowled. "But if Fudge's popularity keeps falling, he won't be Minister much longer."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "You think so?"
"Yeah," Ron said. "And then Percy will be out of a job, and I'll bet my broomstick that he goes running back to Mum and Dad, apologizing." Ron looked so glum now, that Harry tried to change the subject.
"Speaking of broomsticks, the, er, first quidditch match is coming up soon—" he began, but, just then, the wailing-whiffer had grown twice as loud.
"Stop Silencing it!" Seamus bellowed at the door, and Neville's leg kicked violently in his sleep.
"This is hopeless!" Harry said, pressing his hands over his ears. "Somebody throw it out a window!"
"Then Filch will try to get us all expelled!" Ron said, half-shouting over the noise. "And it'll wake up the whole castle!"
"What?" Dean shouted.
"WAKE UP THE CASTLE," Harry shouted back.
"Yes, it is a hassle," Dean shouted back, "and at this rate, it'll wake everyone up, too!" Ron shook his head, disgusted.
There was a knock on the dormitory door—actually, it was more of a loud banging, like someone had kicked it hard with their foot. Harry got up to see who it was, but this meant he had to lower his hand to open the door. He felt like his ears would bleed from the loud, high-pitched noise. He pulled the door open to find Hermione. She was wearing a pair of fuzzy lavendar earmuffs, and carrying several more. She said something that Harry couldn't hear over the wailing.
"WHAT?" he shouted. Hermione lifted one side of the earmuffs slightly off her ear.
"I'VE HAD A THOUGHT!" she shouted back. "THESE ARE SPELLED! PUT THEM ON!"
She handed Harry a pair, and he pulled them on. Instantly, the wailing stopped. His ears still throbbed from the racket, but it was such a relief.
"Thanks," he mouthed to Hermione.
"Don't mention it," she mouthed back, handing him the earmuffs. Harry closed the door, and tossed a pair to Ron, who looked at him doubtfully before pulling them on. His whole body seemed to sag with relief. Harry tossed pairs to Dean and Seamus as well, who eagerly pulled them on. Seamus took the spare pair and slipped it over Neville's sleeping head. Neville's foot kicked again.
The earmuffs blessedly knocked out the noise, but they also meant that all conversation had ceased. It was a bit early for bed, but, as there was nothing else to do, Harry flopped down. He pulled out the huge book of spells and began to read ahead a bit. It was rather dry—Hermione's summaries were much more interesting—but he read the explanations behind the charms and spells in the next chapters with interest. He read until well after everyone else had dropped off, and, at last, he read himself to sleep.
******
Reviewer Responses:
Wynjara: No kidding. The big slacker.
MulledMead: And I could've gotten away with it, if it weren't for you meddling kids!
Caught me red-handed. I was hoping nobody would notice Katie Bell's conspicuous absence… but I ought to know that HP fans are too quick on the uptake for that. Okay, here's what happened.
I started writing this right after I moved to Japan in August. At that point, I'd read Order of the Pheonix twice, but somehow I missed Angelina's commnet that Katie would still be there the next year both times. Up until then, though, I couldn't find a single place where it listed (explicitly) what year Katie was, so I decided to make a good-faith guess. In Philosopher's/Sorceror's Stone, Lee Jordan says that Katie was a reserve player "last year." First-years never make the house teams, and I assumed that would extend to reserves, so, for me, that pegged Katie as a third-year, which would mean she'd be gone by this book. Obviously, my logic was flawed. *sigh*
After I had already written the first ten chapters or so—and begun to post them!—I reread OotP and caught that quote.
"Oh, smack," I said to myself. "If Katies on th team still, then I bet she'd be captain, not Harry. But it's too late to edit all that out of what I've written/planned. What will I do?" So I was left with two options—abandon the fic—or go on and hope nobody mentioned Katie.
You can see how well that turned out.
So, my apologies on this glaring error in my text, and curses (kudos?) to you for catching it. It's too late for me to fix, so let's… um… assume that Katie's family was kidnapped by Death Eaters over the summer. Or… she transferred to Beauxbatons. Or… she took a Kwikspell course and graduated early. Pick your unlikely explanation. :)
Sasinak: Yeah, me too! Just think of all the Ron/Dean friction that leaves for me to play with…
Wiccan PussyKat: I AM SO SORRY. I don't know how that happened—but rest assured, it wasn't intentional!!! Please don't be offended. I apologize most sincerely. I'm glad you found that chapter interesting! I once found all the quidditch stuff boring too, but I've grown to like it over time. Still, it won't take up HUGE amounts of text here, besides the games, of course. I was happy for Kirke coming back to the team, too. Hope he lives up to our expectations.
EriEka127: Thanks!