A/N: I'm back! It's been a long six months, folks, but I've finally got my computer back! For those of you who weren't aware of my location for the last six months, let me fill you in. On April 27, 2004, I shipped out of Cleveland, OH, bound for The U.S. Army field artillery training center (USFATC) at Ft. Sill, OK. That's right, my friends. I joined the military, and went off to basic training. After a grueling 10 weeks of training, I was sent to Ft. Bliss, TX. That is where I am right now, by the way. I am currently attending AIT (Advanced Individual Training) to become a 14J. That's a radar operator, for those of you who aren't familiar with Army speak. I finally got my computer back, so I had to write this chapter out. I haven't written anything worthwhile in about six months, so please bear with me if it's not to your expectations. Let me know what you think, as usual. The chapters might start coming fast and furious, since the ideas have been spinning around in my head for such a long time. SIDE NOTE FOR FANS OF FOURTH POWER: It's been a long time since I last thought about it, but when I got my computer back, the ideas started flowing again. Look for another chapter coming soon!
Chapter 07: The Chase
The next morning brought a sensation to the Great Hall. The Gryffindor house was in total shock when they arrived at breakfast. The previous night, they had been given a very stern talking-to by their head of house, and were worried about one of their own. Professor McGonagall hadn't told them anything about the troll, but had told them that something had happened to Hermione as a result of them leaving her all alone in the castle while they went to the safety of their dormitory. Most of the Gryffindors assumed that she had been injured or killed by the troll, and they wouldn't see her. Most of the older students thought that she had been sent home with some sort of disability, since McGonagall had mentioned that Hermione's contribution to the house point game would stop, and she didn't know how the house would deal with the loss.
The sensation began simply enough. When the doors of the Greta Hall opened, the students gasped as one. The hall was decorated elaborately with the rich Magus-Purple, with an equal amount of Gryffindor-Red, ignoring the colors of the other houses. The Gryffindors were originally quite pleased to see their house color splashed around the Great Hall, but were less pleased when they noticed that the red banners also bore the Draconus crest, rather than the Gryffindor crest. They grins turned to looks of outrage when the banners took on a border of the Draconus house purple color as well.
Professor Dumbledore was seated at his normal place, and beckoned the children to their seats. "All will be explained in due time, children. Please be patient." Some of the older students looked like they wanted to argue, but Dumbledore silenced them with a look. He had a way of doing that. If Harry had been there, he would have seen the aura flare. The students couldn't see it, but their magic reacted, and made them uneasy. "I assure you, today is a very special day."
The students sat, waiting for the breakfast to be served. It was at about that time, when one of the older, more observant students pointed out the next sensational item on the list of sensations of the day. Draconus house was absent of the breakfast, which wasn't normal, but not too noteworthy. After all, breakfast wasn't a requirement. What was odd, however, was that the table was filled with food, even though nobody was sitting there. Not only that, but the table was twice as large as it normally was. That caused the biggest round of gasps yet. It was a well known fact that the tables of Hogwarts were enchanted to always be just large enough to fit the exact number of students in the table's assigned house. The fact that the table was twice as large as it had been meant that Draconus had acquired a new student.
Once again, Dumbledore knew what the houses were thinking, and spoke before the uproar could happen. "I see that many of you have noticed the odd size of the Draconus house table. As I said earlier, this is a very special day. Last night, while the rest of you were tucked safely in your dormitories, our young Magus helped us search the castle for the troll. Due to his strange ability to sense things, Harry Potter found the troll long before we did. Harry tried to reach help, but found himself trapped by the troll. He tried to fight it, and did as well as he could until help arrived." The entire hall was silent, anticipating the rest of the story. Dumbledore was an accomplished storyteller, and had his audience held completely captive. Now was the time to spin the lie. Hermione had told it the night before, but Dumbledore knew that it had not been true. He was a scanner, after all, and Hermione was not capable of that kind of magical output yet. He had no doubt that she would be, but she had not developed enough yet. "Oddly enough, help came from a very unlikely source. Hermione Granger was on her way to her dormitory, albeit a little later than everyone else, when she heard the sounds of the fighting. She ran to investigate, and found Harry trying vainly to defend himself from the troll's giant club. On pure instinct, she cast a simple levitation charm on the troll's club, and it jumped out of the troll's hand. Hermione may be a good witch, but that club must have weighed 300 pounds. She couldn't hold it, not even for a second. The club dropped, its full weight crashing down onto the troll's head. A troll may be a very strong creature, but there are very few things that can survive a blow of 300 pounds to the head. The troll was not killed, but it was knocked senseless. Hermione Granger saved Harry Potter's life last night, and Harry has chosen to repay her with an honorary membership in the Draconus house." Once again, the hall gasped as one. "It gives me great pleasure to introduce the newest member of Draconus house. Miss Hermione Granger!"
The doors to the Great Hall opened silently, which was odd for the normally creaky doors, and there stood a warrior clad in Gryffindor colors. Looking again, most students realized that it wasn't really a warrior, but Hermione, clad in Gryffindor combat robes. Her attire matched Harry's exactly, with the exception of the colors. The crest was the same as Harry's, but done in the Gryffindor colors, rather than the silver and purple that marked Draconus house. The sight of Hermione kept the shocked students quiet for a few moments, but the hall's deliberate change of scenery helped keep them quiet for a while longer. As Hermione took her first step into the hall, Harry stepped from behind her. At the same time, the banners took on a life of their own. Every one of the purple banners slid across the ceiling until they lined the walls. The red banners with the purple trim slid to the middle, creating a walkway straight to the middle of the hall, where the Draconus table was located. As the pair walked slowly towards their table, the hall lights, which looked like the morning sky, dimmed to almost twilight on the sides of the halls, and brightened to near noonday in the middle. The hall's light show proved successful to keep the audience silent until the pair of students reached their seats. As the lights changed back to normal, the hall pulled its last trick. As Hermione and Harry sat down, the food appeared on everyone else's table. The surprise and shock value of what the students had witnessed kept them quiet through most of breakfast, keeping their comments short, and whispered to each other.
Dumbledore himself was shocked at the display as well. It had been his idea to change the banners in the hall, but he hadn't had any hand in any of the rest of it. He knew Hermione would be wearing the combat robes, but he hadn't had a chance to have them made for her yet. The hall had changed on its own, and the food had not appeared in the manner he had ordered. Somehow, the Draconus house was tied to the castle more closely than even he was as the headmaster. It was not necessarily a good thing. As headmaster, he was very aware of the movements of the castle, and the idea that the castle could help hide two students from him was disturbing.
Breakfast was over quicker than most of the students thought it would be, and the students dispersed for their classes. Harry and Hermione once again stayed behind, at the request of Professor McGonagall. She led them to her office, and shut the door.
"I know that you lied to me, Miss Granger. I don't know what was done to that troll, but the Headmaster tells me that there's no way that you could have controlled as much magic as was used last night in that bathroom. That means that you, Mr. Potter, were responsible." Her head swiveled from Hermione to Harry. "Harry, I know that whatever you did last night was powerful and tightly leashed. I also know that you don't want others to know what it was. However, I need to know if what you did could be dangerous to you or Hermione." Professor McGonagall looked like she really didn't want to know the answer to her next question. "What really happened last night, Harry?"
Harry told her everything, including where he's come by the technique. "I really didn't want to use it, Professor, but the troll was out of control. I couldn't concentrate enough to form any kind of spell. I just reacted with the one thing I knew how to use to stop a large, moving object."
As Harry told his story, McGonagall remembered investigating a massive surge of magical energy being recorded in Little Whinging a few years earlier. The reason that it stood out was the fact that Harry Potter lived there, and it was widely thought that the surge could have been an attempt to break the protections that surrounded him. Dumbledore had told her, in private, that that much force could have broken the wards, if it had been properly structured and aimed. When she'd arrived at the scene of the surge, Harry was nowhere to be found, and the only evidence of magic being used there was the completely caved in front of a car.
"Harry," Professor McGonagall started, "how powerful are you? Do you have any idea? That spell, which you do quite naturally, would take an accomplished wizard several incantations and wand movements to perform, and perhaps more than a minute of intense concentration to gather the necessary magical force to even attempt to hit anything that hard." Her wand was out in an instant, and she quickly conjured a pyramid of wood. "Please demonstrate your ability for me, Harry. I'll ask you for this one demonstration, and then I shall do my best to forget that you even possess this power."
Harry got to his feet, and leveled his eyes at the wood. McGonagall felt the very air crackle with an unseen energy. He's not using his own magic. McGonagall could feel the air pulse with Harry's focus. He's pulling magic from the world around him. God, I hope he doesn't hurt himself. The next instant, Harry's hand curled into a fist, and he slammed it on the desktop. For Minerva McGonagall, the world slowed down to a crawl. The air above the woodpile began to fog over in a glowing mist. As the mist formed, it coalesced into a pattern very similar to the one that was found on the end of Harry's hand. Once the pattern had formed, energy flowed into it from everywhere, and it glowed so brightly that her eyes stung. Not a moment later, that power arranged itself into a force fit for crushing anything, and slammed down towards the wood. The wood did not crack. It didn't splinter, or even break. It was hit with such tremendous force, that it ground itself into sawdust in an instant. There was nothing left of the woodpile to examine. It was just gone.
Harry looked non-plussed. "I'm sorry Professor McG. I didn't mean to make it that hard. I was trying to just break the wood. I didn't mean to powder it." Professor McGonagall tried not to smile at the familiar abbreviation of her name. Harry's mother had called her that when she was in her seventh year, and it felt good to hear it again. "I'm not sure what happened."
"Well, I don't know either, Harry." McGonagall had an idea, but it would be dangerous to tell her charge what she thought. If the explanation was that simple, there was no telling how powerful that spell could have been.
Just as McGonagall finished cleaning up the mess left by the sawdust, Professor Dumbledore burst in to the room. His wand was up and ready, and Harry reacted without thinking. Before he had even seen who it was, there was a ball of that same white glow in his hand, and it was sent at Dumbledore. The aged Headmaster was a VERY accomplished dueler, and tried to deflect the spell. The charm that he used should have changed the course of any spell that came its way, but Harry's little ball of magic passed through it like the shield wasn't even there. Dumbledore jumped to the side, and the ball splashed against the wall. Harry was now fully aware of who was in the room, and made no further attempt to attack.
Professor Dumbledore put his wand away quickly, and surveyed the situation. In the room were two first year students, and a Professor with a smug expression on her face. He had the distinct impression that she was trying not to laugh at him in front of her students. Thinking about it, he wanted to laugh at himself too. He, the man who had defeated the Great Octavious Grindelwald, almost rendered senseless by a first year student. Minerva would be picking on him for a long time. Well that would happen later. Now, it was time for answers.
"What happened here, Minerva?" He asked, his eyes searching hers for an answer. "There was a spectacular surge of magic in this room, but there's no trace of it to be found now."
Minerva was an accomplished liar as well; Harry was about to find out. "I have no inkling of what you mean, Albus. I was speaking to my young magus and his friend about Hermione's change of status, and you burst in like a fool." Harry schooled his features into a straight face. He never liked to lie, but it was a little disappointing to know that he was the only one in the school that was forced to tell the truth.
Albus' eyes slid past Harry, and Harry forced himself to meet the gaze of the headmaster. You won't know my secrets, Headmaster. Professor Dumbledore jerked his eyes away from Harry, and moved on to Hermione. Her determined look met him, and he straightened. "Perhaps I was mistaken, then. I'm sure there is more to this story than you are letting on, Minerva, but I shall let the sleeping dog lie for now." The Headmaster bid them a good day, and strolled out of the room as if nothing had happened.
"Perhaps that wasn't such a good idea after all." Professor McGonagall said to herself. She then turned to Harry. "Are there any other major talents that you have that might bring the attention of the Headmaster like that?"
"I didn't know that he would feel that one, so I'm not sure." Harry said. "I think that's the strongest piece of magic I can do, so I don't think so."
"Good." The Professor said. "Harry, that spell had more magical output than most wizards can manage, and that's a fact. I don't know where the energy came from, but it didn't come from you. I want you to promise me that you won't do that again if you can possibly avoid it." She wisely didn't back him into the corner that he wouldn't EVER use it. As soon as he promised he wouldn't ever use it, a situation would arise that he would need it, and then he would become an oath breaker. There was no punishment for breaking promises, but it would be a stain on his honor, and Harry took his honor very seriously.
"I didn't want to do it the last two times." Harry said. "I give you my word that if I can avoid using the Hammer-Fist, I will."
"Good." The Professor said. "Now, I have a surprise for you. I know that you're disappointed that you can't play Quidditch like the rest of the school, so I pulled a few strings, and set up a chase game for you." Harry's eyes lit up with pleasure. "I thought you might enjoy it. Let's go, Harry. The chase is about to start."
"Wait, you mean right now?" Harry asked. The hammer fist was a hard bit of magic, and it took a lot out of him. Chasing something might put him over the edge, and he might pass out.
"Where did you think the rest of the school went on a Saturday, Potter?" The Professor asked him. "They're all set to begin the chase."
"Alright then, let's go." The light of battle was in Harry's eyes now. He would beat all of them, and win the chase.
Professor McGonagall led him down to the Quidditch pitch, where all four of the house teams waited. Harry was led to the center, where McGonagall explained the rules. "This is a very simple game, teams. There are no balls, no goals, and only one object. Your job is to catch Magus Potter, and it doesn't matter how you do it. You six," she pointed at the chasers, beaters, and the keeper, "your job is to make it as easy as possible for your seeker to catch Magus Potter. That means disabling the other teams' seekers as well. Wands out!" Twenty-four wands flashed from under robes. "Seekers, it is your task to catch Magus Potter. Give your wands to me." Four wands were pulled sullenly from pockets and given up. "Ready, Harry?"
Harry gulped. He had not expected to be the object of the chase. He glanced at Hermione. She had the warriors light in her eyes, and her purple aura shimmered with anticipation. She was going to help him, he was sure of it. Harry smiled in a very disconcerting way. It was time to battle. "Ready, Professor." He closed his eyes, and dropped into his battle stance. With a quick burst of thought, his wings once again erupted from his back, and he was in the air.
The Gryffindor team was hot on his heels, but they weren't tossing spells yet. Harry rolled in mid air, and changed his direction. He headed for the goal posts at the end of the field. Below him, The Slytherin team was now in the air, and already sending spells his way. Pulses of red and blue light whizzed by him, but he ignored them, merely trying to get to the goalpost as fast as possible. The Gryffindor team was falling back, and Harry slowed down. It wouldn't work if they had time to think about it. The team began sending spells at him, and he dodged the pulses of blue light. The seeker, with his quick broom, was pulling ahead of the pack, and was almost on his heels. Perfect. Harry reached the goal, and quickly changed directions as he went through the hoop. The bell that indicated a goal had not been turned off, and it sounded loudly. The sound distracted the Gryffindor seeker, and he turned his head in mid-turn. That was a bad idea. The front of his broom connected with the goal post, and he went into a flat spin, and ended up hanging from the broom by his arms only. Harry didn't give him much of a thought. He was worried about the chasers. Bright blue bolts from their wands were getting closer to him, and he had to duck and roll to avoid them. He felt one of the red spells splash against his robes, but the protections held. The spell had come from a Ravenclaw chaser, a well-aimed shot to take him while he was concentrating on something else. He swerved out of the way of another spell, and used his momentum to knock another Slytherin beater off course. The beater got control quickly, but caught a spell in the face, and fell off his broom. He didn't fall far before a levitation spell grabbed him, cast by the diminutive Professor Flitwick, and set him gently on the pitch. That was one down. Harry glanced over, and smiled widely. Hermione had the most evil smile on her face. She winked at him, and sent a quick red spell at an unsuspecting Hufflepuff. Another one down, and only twenty-six more in the air.
The play was getting dirty by the time everyone was up in the air. The seekers were doing as much dodging as Harry was, and the chasers were sending as many spells at each other as they were sending in Harry's direction. Harry couldn't get the smile off his face. It was battle, and he was ready for it. He wasn't only on the defensive. Everyone had seen him toss that ball of magic in the duel with Draco Malfoy, and he formed two such balls for use in his next aerial maneuver. He willed himself up, until he felt that he was well out of range of the battle below. He'd never done anything like this before, but if it worked it would be one to remember for the future. He turned, and headed for the ground. Fast. He dropped the connection to his wings, and fell like a stone. The crowd screamed as one, and all four teams stopped to find out what the problem was. Perfect. He flailed his hands, and the two balls of magic flew straight into the chests of two Ravenclaw chasers. Harry curled himself into a ball, and flared his wings again. As he finished his spin, he had two more balls ready. Snapping out of the somersault posture, he let the two balls fly again. He hit a Slytherin beater, but missed the Gryffindor seeker.
Harry's acrobatics and quick eliminations seemed to remind the remaining players that he was the target. In a temporary moment of truce, the fourteen remaining players took off after him. Hermione caught two in the back of the formation, dropping the number to twelve. The other players didn't realize that Hermione was playing the game yet, and she remained safe, sniping the players from the ground. Harry looked over at Professor McGonagall. She was enjoying herself, he could tell. The smile she wore was evident, and she kept yelling something, though he couldn't make out what it was. He couldn't help but smile in thanks that she'd arranged this for him. It was so much fun.
A flash of poisonous red caught Harry's eye. It was building from the teachers seating area, and Harry was sure it was evil. It was a ghastly color, and reminded him of something, although he couldn't remember what. Before he could think it through too much more, a giant ball of the poisonous light was sent barreling straight at Hermione. The light wasn't fast, but Hermione couldn't see it either. Without pausing to think, Harry went into the fastest dive he'd ever attempted. Not only did he let himself fall, he added as much forward thrust as possible.
He made it, but barely. He pushed Hermione as he touched down, and she went sprawling to the pitch. She fixed him with a look that was both hurt and furious, and we began to apologize. He never got to say a word. The pain hit hard and fast, and he curled up into a tight ball. He couldn't scream, it hurt so badly. The wings, which he had not released curled around him in a protective embrace, but it didn't help. His back started to hurt really bad right where the wings had originated. Harry's body started to shake with the pain, and he began to scream. It was like his insides were being twisted around and rearranged repeatedly.
Hermione didn't know what to do, but she could perceive that someone in the stands was making her friend feel pain, and she knew that the spell had been meant for her. She scanned the stands for a clue. There it was. Professor Snape had his eyes locked on Harry's form, and was chanting something. She screamed that she would find Harry some help, and ran for the stands.
Harry was screaming, but he could still think. Someone had tried to hurt his friend, and they weren't going to get away with it. Forcing his eyes to open through his pain, he followed the pathway of the spell back to the origin. Professor Snape was standing right there, and a smoky aura surrounded him. He was doing something magical, and Harry was sure it had something to do with the pain that he was in right now. The anger that coursed through his veins was unlike anything he'd ever felt. It was like someone had poured boiling water into his veins, and then stuck him in the oven for an hour. He was beyond angry. He screamed again, this time more rage than pain, and got to his feet.
Hermione had made her way to the base of the tower, still trying to figure out what to do. She scrambled up the stairs, knowing that she needed to get to the top in order to help Harry, even if she didn't know how she was going to do it.
Harry needed to be in the air again. He sent a concentrated burst of angry thought to his wings, and took to the sky. He was so angry that he didn't hear the gasps from the crowd. His attention was on Snape, and Snape alone. He couldn't really feel the pain anymore, but he was still going to pay for what he tried to do to Hermione. Blue blasts came from the players in the air, and Harry dodged them without effort. He sent balls of pure magic right back, and eliminated them without a thought. Many times, he didn't even look at them, just tossed a ball into their magical presence. He had his priority target.
Snape was staring in horror, but his attention was taken away from Harry by his robes catching on fire. He danced about, trying to put the fire out, and then ran down to the ground. He needed to escape those eyes. The look in Harry's eyes had reached into the depths of his soul, and carved a place for itself in his nightmares.
When Snape's robes caught fire, Harry was confused. Did he do that? He saw a flash of purple aura, and his anger dropped to nothing. He laughed out loud. Hermione had come to his rescue, even as he was trying to get revenge on her behalf. Good for her, he thought. He thought about the game that he'd been playing, and turned back to the pitch. It was empty. Looking down, he saw that each and every one of the players was down, and the ones who were awake were staring at him in wonder. A gust of wind drew his attention, and he gaped also. His wings were different. Instead of the glowing, pure white wings like a giant bird, a set of giant purple wings, like a dragon, with black skin stretched between the purple fingers, flapped slowly behind him. They were almost twice the size of the wings he had before. He descended to the ground, and let go of the connection to his wings. This time, unlike before, he didn't feel them dissipate. Instead, they folded themselves neatly, and wrapped around him, becoming his cloak. Harry thought it was a bit strange, but it did make for a cool effect.
Professor McGonagall strode up to him, and examined his eyes. "What happened, Harry? I saw you swoop down to Hermione, and then you fell on the ground. You screamed, then got to your feet. Your white wings exploded into tiny shards of magic, and those gigantic purple wings unfolded. Your eyes changed too. I could see them glowing from where I sat. Are you ok?"
Harry ignored her question's intent, and told her about his wings. "I'm not sure what happened, Professor. I wanted to go faster, so I could escape. Hermione was helping me from the ground, and someone sent a spell her way. It looked like it might be dangerous, but Hermione couldn't see it. She's not trained to defend herself yet, and until she is instructed, it is my job to protect her from that sort of thing. It's all part of me being her sponsor into my house." Harry paused to gauge his Professor's reaction. She was believing him, which was good. He needed her to believe this next one without question, because it was almost a lie, and if she caught him on it, he might have to lie outright, which would hurt. "The spell hit me, instead of Hermione. I guess it reacted badly with my magic, because it hurt a lot. I couldn't even keep my footing, it hurt so badly. I got angry at the pain, and tried to take off again. The pain stopped when I got airborne, and I started playing again. I wasn't sure who cast the spell," Harry braced himself for the pain that he knew was coming, but it never came. He quickly realized that he actually wasn't SURE that Snape had cast the spell. "So I tried to eliminate the rest of the players as fast as possible. I guess that it worked, Professor. Did I win?" Harry started to feel a little odd.
"Yes, Harry. Your team eliminated every single one of the opposing forces, and you didn't get caught." Professor McGonagall said with a major note of pride in her voice.
"Good." Harry said. There was almost no emotion in his voice. Hermione grabbed his hand, to ask if he was alright, but never got to ask. Harry's eyes rolled up into his head, and he passed out.
Professor Snape was hiding, and he wasn't ashamed to say so. What he'd just witnessed on the pitch had shaken him to the core. When Harry Potter had arrived at the school, Snape had taken an immediate dislike of the boy. He looked just like his father, with exception of his eyes. Those eyes came straight from his mother, and retained their ability to pierce his soul. Lily had been his beloved enemy in school. She was always just a little better than he was in her studies, and he hated her for it. However, he also couldn't have pushed himself as hard without her there as motivation, so he liked her. Her eyes always seemed to read him like a book, though, and he hated that. Harry's eyes did the same thing, but Snape hated Harry's eyes even more than he'd hated Lily's. Harry's eyes were his silent accusers, screaming his crimes into the depths of his mind.
Snape shuddered with the thought of what he'd just witnessed. When Harry had fallen over on the pitch, Snape had recognized the telltale signs of a pain-cage hex. He knew the counter-spell, and jumped to his feet to cast it. He began to chant the spell, but Harry started to climb to his feet. He was pushing the pain back with the force of his will, it seemed. Then he turned his eyes to Snape, and Snape realized the truth. It wasn't willpower that was forcing back the pain, but anger. Anger, which was directed at him. Harry, with that amazing scanning ability of his, had detected him casting a spell. His eyes were glowing with intensity, and promised more suffering than he could imagine. He would not sleep tonight.
"Master, I didn't know!" The squeaky voice of Professor Quirrel said. "The boy has never used his scanning ability actively in my presence before. I didn't know that he would be able to sense that I was casting the spell, or that he would sacrifice his safety to help the mudblood girl."
"Silence, fool!" A voice hissed from nowhere. "Your zeal to hurt the mudblood was admirable, but you've placed us in a very tight spot. The boy may have sensed where the spell originated, and may now bring your transgression to the attention of the Headmaster. We will have to tread carefully for a time."
"I understand, Master." Was Quirrel's only reply.
Harry's excellent performance was the talk of the school for the next few days. People he didn't even know kept coming up to him and congratulating him on winning the chase. Hermione was getting plenty off attention as well. Although the players hadn't seen her helping Harry from the ground, most of the audience had seen her firing spells from the ground. She got a few approving looks from the Gryffindors and Slytherins, because of her sneakiness and her care not to eliminate any Gryffindors, but the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws constantly shot her scornful looks. The Hufflepuffs were convinced that she was cheating, and hated unfairness. The Ravenclaws had been outsmarted, and they hated that. One of the older Ravenclaws decided to do something about it about three weeks later.
"Hermione Granger, I, Nathaniel Foxmoore, challenge you to a duel!" Said the boy. Hermione gulped. She didn't think she knew near enough to fight with a fourth-year student.
Harry answered for her. "I, Harry Potter, am designated as the protector of Hermione Granger." It was a formal statement of answer. Harry had been required to memorize them, in case this scenario ever came up. "If you have business with her, you may settle it with me."
The ball was now in the boy's court. He paled when he found out that he would need to duel the magus, but his pride would not let him back down. "Very well, Magus Potter. Your protected has dishonored the Ravenclaw house, and I will see its honor restored. I challenge you to a duel."
"Accepted." Harry replied. The light of battle made its way back into Harry's eyes. It was time to battle again, and he'd been practicing. He stared his opponent down for the rest of dinner. The young Ravenclaw boy kept glancing at Harry, and growing more nervous.
The dueling platform was set up after dinner, and Harry made his preparations. He was glad that it was a straight magical duel, because he wanted to try something that he'd been practicing for the last three weeks with the hat.
Foxmoore took his place at the end of the platform, and readied his wand. Harry drew two small circles in the air. In each circle, he drew a series of small symbols. He had been working on this trick for three weeks, and wanted to test it out. If he concentrated, he found that he could hold two spells at the same time. He could even cast them at the same time if he tried hard enough. As he finished writing the symbols, one of the circles turned bright blue, and the other a vivid green.
The bell rang to begin the duel, and Harry dropped into the familiar battle stance. The glowing symbols started to rotate around Harry's body, ready to be used at a moment's notice. The boy at the other end was gaping at the rotating circles, but shook himself out of it, just in time to dodge a blast of blue light from Harry's fingertip as he passed it through the blue circle. He sent a bolt of red energy at Harry, crying "Expelliarmus!" Harry wasn't sure what that was supposed to do, but brought the green symbol to the front, and touched it as the spell reached him. There was the sound of a gunshot in the Great Hall, and the red spell launched itself as if it had been fired from a cannon. It hit the ceiling of the hall, and exploded in a shower of red fireworks.
The boy was staring at the fireworks, and Harry took advantage of his distraction. Summoning the blue symbol, he fired off the spell at the boy, who was just remembering that Harry was still a threat. He dropped his eyes back to Harry, just in time to yell in surprise as the beam of blue light struck him square in the chest. His eyes widened in surprise, then slammed shut. He fell to the ground, and the fight was over.
Professor Flitwick, who had been the official, examined the unconscious boy. "He's asleep!" He squeaked. Harry smiled. That had been the fun part, developing that spell. He'd used the patterns that he's seen in Snape's class, and the hat had helped him develop a less powerful version of the potion in a spell. Professor Flitwick was amazed. "I've been dueling for longer than most of the Professors here have been alive, and this is the first time that anyone has used a sleeping spell to win a duel! Well done, Magus Potter!"
It was time to be formal again, and Harry answered the Professor with a statement to the entire Ravenclaw house. "The battle is done, and my opponent fought honorably. Let the business that laid between our houses be settled, and the incident forgotten."
Professor Flitwick responded as formally as Harry. "The business between our houses is done, Magus. This battle has brought peace for the moment. It is my hope that this peace may live forever."
Harry made his way to his dormitory, asking the castle to make sure he wasn't followed. Professor Dumbledore had informed him that his Aunt would be coming in a few days to talk to him about his parents. She would stay until the Christmas holiday started, then would go back home, leaving Harry to enjoy the freedom the castle allowed him. He'd considered going home for the holidays, but his magic would need to be contained while he was home, and he was not sure he could put a lid on it for long enough.