Chapter 13: Plants

"Magic is real, and dreams can come true." - The Good Witch's Guide to Wicked Ways

~ ~ ~

The second brass creature to rise out of the potion, the purple liquid streaming off it and dripping back into the cauldron, was a bat, its wings open wide as if in flight, and its tiny eyes focused on finding food.

"A pipstrel bat," McGonagall said quietly, without Harry having to ask. It hovered just above the potion, perfect in detail, every individual hair visible if viewed closely. Placing the cobra down on the desk behind him, Harry reached to take hold of this new metallic form, which was just as tall and light as the previous.

Harry sighed as the water started to send up a few bubbles. Obviously not only was the Transfiguration professor right about him being an Annumagus, but he was going to be here for a while yet.

~ ~ ~

An hour later, after Harry had rushed out of the classroom to find Ron and Hermione, McGonagall had shrunk the fifteen brass figures to make them easier to carry and brought to Dumbledore's office, explaining the situation.

"It certainly is quite a problem," the headmaster mused, a faint twinkle in his eyes. "How on earth is Harry going to keep all of these clean?"

"Albus!" McGonagall snapped, irritated. "Mr Potter has just destroyed not only several widely-accepted theories about the workings of abilities, but he has also destroyed at least one theory about the Animagus form as a whole. No one, Annumagus or Animagus, has transformed into a magical animal. It's impossible!"

"Obviously not, Minerva," Dumbledore smiled politely. "As Mr Potter has managed to do these things, it quite obviously is possible. Most surprising, certainly - but possible all the same."

The teacher sighed in exasperation, and rubbed her forehead. "Albus, what are I going to do?"

Dumbledore took a lemon drop from the packet on his desk, still admiring the rather attractive (and wonderfully shiny) brass. "Do as you would have done if his form had turned out to be a mere fly; train him to turn into his other forms. I'm sure you'll manage. After all, why should turning into a magical animal be any different from turning into a non-magical animal?"

McGonagall couldn't find an answer to this, so she kept quiet.

~ ~ ~

All Ron could say when Harry finished describing what had happened, was "Bloody Hell, mate."

"Ron, that's not at all helpful," Hermione scolded, not really bothered with his uselessness - she was too busy drooling over the idea of the research that could come of this, and the idea of looking through half the books in the school library. "Harry, that's absolutely amazing! I think I might have an idea of why you're an Annumagus as well, although I could be wrong. I'm hardly an expert, after all."

Harry's face lit up. "Great! Come on, you could be right - it's worth a guess."

Hermione frowned as she though how to explain it. "It's like - oh, Ron, you probably won't understand a word I'm saying, but it's genes - DNA. There's traits that are dominant, and ones that are recessive; like if a person with black hair and a person with blond hair had a daughter, she would most likely have black hair - because black is dominant, so it wins over blond. Understand, Ron?"

"I get the black hair, blond hair bit," he agreed.

"Right." said Hermione, thankful she wouldn't have to spend an hour and a half explaining DNA. "Now, here's my idea. Maybe like hair colour or eye colour, abilities - like Annumagi, or Seers - are linked to genes. That would explain why abilities are usually passed down through families. Now, obviously, some abilities are recessive, and some are dominant -"

"And my Annumagi ability was in my family's genes - but it was lying dormant until it finally came back in me!" Harry finished ecstatically. "Hermione, you're a genius - but does that mean that every ability still exists?"

Hermione was silent for a moment, leaning back in one of the Gryffindor Common Rooms armchairs. "I don't think so - I mean eventually, some abilities would get weaker as the blood got more diluted, until it disappeared entirely; but for it to wipe out of everyone who was descended from those who had it in the first place would take a long time; so probably most abilities still exist, even though people think they're gone for good."

Harry pulled a face. "How are Wizards with stuff like that, anyway?"

The girl gave an apologetic look. "Pretty rubbish, actually. Most Wizards and Witches basically want to leave Magic with the Magic-users and science with the Muggles, so practically no-one in the Wizarding world knows much about DNA - if they did, they might have researched whether abilities were genetic or not."

"Well, it's likely," Ron added, "because abilities are usually hereditary, so it must be something in the - DMA, did you say?"

"DNA," Hermione corrected him. "Anyway, you said your forms were a cobra and a bat, and that there were some magical animals; shouldn't there be fifteen, if you're an Annumagus?"

"Yeah," said Harry, not sure whether to be despondent that he was even less normal than he had thought, or excited that he could turn into more than just one creature. "After the bat, there was a Basilisk, and then a lion -" He paused so his friends could finish their gasps, "a Phoenix -" (he had to allow another pause here) "Will you please stop gasping? I'll never get done at this rate. After that was a Kneazle, a Hippocampus and a shark - I'm not sure which type, I'll have to look it up - there was a Gryffin, a raven, and a Granian - the type of winged horse - and..."

He paused again, frowning. "To be honest, I don't know what the last four were. I've never seen anything like them... nor had Professor McGonagall."

"What did they look like? Hermione'll probably know," Ron mentioned as he made himself comfortable.

"Well..." Harry started, trying to remember exactly how the figures had looked, "They were all brass, so I don't know what colour they should have been, but... well, the first one was sort of like a sea serpent; it had a really long body, but its head was like a dragon rather than a horse. It must have been a sea creature, because though it didn't have arms or legs, it had huge fins like wings on either side of its upper body. For a tail, it had long fins, like a Merperson." He waited for this to sink in, but Hermione shook her head.

"I don't know - I'll have to research it. What was the next one?"

"The second one," and Harry could remember this easily, "was like a mix between a dragon and a Volucris daemon. It had dragon-like wings, and a long tail which split into two at the end, like a stretched out snakes tongue. Its neck was long and thin, and its snout was shaped a bit like a beak; from between and just below the eyes, there was a horn pointing at a slant. Oh," he remembered suddenly, "and one of the really weird things about it was that its legs could be bent like a humans', instead of a Volucris or daemons'."

Hermione looked fascinated, but annoyed. "I don't know that one either! Harry, just tell us the last two and I'll stop you if I recognise them."

"Right," Harry agreed, and pushed himself further into the seat, screwing his eyes up as he recalled them. "The third one was a bird; it looked pretty small, about the size of a blackbird perhaps. Its tail had a few feathers at the end that were long and thin, and drooped down like on a Phoenix tail. On its head, there were plumes of about six feathers, just as thin and long as on the tail. These came straight out of the back of the head, the three nearer the top of its head starting to point in that direction, and the other three starting to fall downwards."

He paused, but Hermione gave no mention that she knew it. "The fourth one," he continued, hoping she would have some hint as to what this was, "was like a ferret. It looked pretty vicious, and the only unusual thing about it was that with its tail, which was really long like the others', it ended a bit like a rattlesnakes' tail."

Hermione shook her head dejectedly. "I don't know any of those, and if McGonagall doesn't either - then I don't know where we can research them. They're not Muggle animals, that certain."

"Maybe they're extinct?" Ron suggested.

Hermione frowned. "I don't think you can have extinct animals as an Animagus," she said slowly.

Ron snorted. "Well, Harry's trashed enough of the rules, why not that one?"

"Actually, you can have." Harry added. "McGonagall told me when my Gryffin appeared that it was possible - apparently there was one Witch a few decades ago who turned into a woolly mammoth."

"Hold on!" Ron butted in, "When you say 'Griffin', you mean 'Griffin' with an 'i', not a 'y', right?"

Harry gave a weak smile. "I mean Gryffin with a 'y'. The now-extinct variety."

Ron looked impressed. "Cool!" he exclaimed, and seeing Hermione's puzzled look, explained. "Gryffins - although it should really be said 'Gry-fon', but most people just say Griffin - were really closely related to Griffins. They looked just like them - the head and front legs of a giant eagle, and the rest of them lion, but they had wings as well. The problem was that the feathers and bones from their wings were really powerfully magical, even more than Unicorn tail hair or Dragon heartstring, so a couple of centuries ago, they were all hunted to extinction. That was before we started getting our act together and trying to prevent that sort of thing happening."

Hermione now looked more thrilled than melancholy. "That's amazing! Harry, where are the figures?"

Harry shrugged. "McGonagall took them to Dumbledore. I'll get them back tomorrow, apparently; actually, I was thinking of shrinking them and sticking them on a charm bracelet. What do you think?"

Ron burst out laughing, but Hermione snapped out, "Harry Potter!" and began ranting out a lecture about taking the situation seriously. It didn't take too long; it was now ten thirty, and ignoring Hermione, the boys looked at each other, shrugged, and then started up to their dormitories, leaving a very angry Hermione behind.

~ ~ ~

Harry did get the figurines back, the very next day; McGonagall came into the Gryffindor Common Room early in the morning, and left them contained with a large package with a note on it addressing it to Harry, so that it would attract less attention if she gave them to him in lesson or at the breakfast table.

There was no time for Harry to bring the figures out to show them to his friends; they had to rush to get to History on time (although to be frank, Harry couldn't see why they would want to go to History in the first place).

Professor Binns, the ghost teacher of History of Magic, managed to set a new world record in boredom that day; he was so dull and 'dispirited', if you'll excuse the pun, that he even managed to make Hermione have a ten minute nap, which the other students were quite astounded by.

"Well, that wasted an hour of my life," Ron grumbled as they left the lesson. Binns was still droning on back in the classroom, unaware of not only the fact the bell had gone, but also that he was trying to teach a roomful of empty chairs and desks. "God, what I wouldn't give to play a good Quidditch match right now."

Harry looked pointedly out the window. "In this weather?" he asked amused, as a layer of frost covered everything outside, and Professor Grubbly-Planks was rumoured to be smashing the ice that had covered the lake overnight. "Wait until the right season, mate, or you'll be turned into a snowman."

"Yes," Ron corrected him, "but I'll be a snowman on a broom, and that's what matters."

"Exactly a week until the Halloween party," Hermione remarked. "Harry, you're going with Cho - Ron, you and I need dates. I knew I shouldn't have waited so long, Lavender and Parvati have had dates for weeks."

"It's not as if you need a date," Ron argued as they crossed down another corridor so they wouldn't have to go past Peeves. "I mean, Dumbledore didn't say anything about having to have a date like last year - just go by yourself, that's what I'm planning to do."

It was obvious that Hermione was having great difficulty in keeping her mouth closed, so that she wouldn't bite out a sarcastic comment about whether it might have more to do with the fact that nobody wanted to go with Ron, so Harry decided it might be nicer to rush in and rescue her.

"Well, the party may be in a week," he said, racing for a topic, "but there's forty-three days to go until Hagrid's wedding. What are you going to get them?"

Hermione gave him a look of thanks. "I was thinking of something for their new home; I mean, it's not as if they're going to live together in Hagrid's hut, are they?"

Harry couldn't believe that hadn't crossed his mind. It looked like there was to be no more running down to Hagrid's hut in the evening, to pretend to eat the stony rock-cakes, drink tea, and talk about Norbert or lessons. At this, another thought, more shocking than disappointing, ran through Harry's mind, and he stood, stock-still, in the middle of the corridor. The pair looked at him, surprised.

"Hermione, Ron - what if he moves away?"

Now they looked confused. "Well; that's really the point," Ron commented. "That they go and live together."

"Not like that!" Harry burst out, annoyed, "I mean, what if they move away. Not like, into Hogsmeade or somewhere, but if Hagrid moves to France with Madame Maxime? I mean, he might quit his job and go live with her, and we'd barely ever see him!"

Now Ron and Hermione were frozen. "He wouldn't do that," Ron finally decided, "You know how he's so thankful to Dumbledore for letting him stay on and everything - he wouldn't just up and leave, when he's finally got his teaching post, and all his friends."

Hermione looked uncertain of this. "I don't know, Ron; I mean, he knows that Lucius Malfoy and the rest all want him out of his job, and love does do funny things to people..."

"Well, I won't believe it," declared Ron. "And neither would you, if you thought about this properly. The next time we see him, we'll ask him ourselves, and then that'll prove he's not moving."

Although Ron sounded confident, Harry and Hermione couldn't help feeling anxious as they went with a heavy heart to their Transfiguration lesson, knowing there was a very real chance they might lose one of their friends.

~ ~ ~

At the end of Transfiguration, McGonagall announced that Animagus lessons would be at the usual time next in the next week, and everyone - she stressed the word - would be starting to learn how to become their form. The trio caught this hint, and Harry was thankful that he wouldn't be dragged off for private lessons, or anything else.

Lunch time, Harry spent up in the dormitory. It was now common knowledge to the others in the dorm that Harry was eating healthily, and Neville had also decided this would be a good idea, as it would help with the Auror training, which he was not entirely fit enough for. Neville, however, had his delivered in the Great Hall, so that he could sit with the others, so he wouldn't miss any announcements.

After he had finished, Harry left the plate and glass on the bedside table for the House Elves to collect when they came in to clean, and switched on the laptop, slotting the rod in as it booted up.

There was nothing about the four unknown creatures in the 'Information' section, although Harry did gather information on the rest of his forms (apparently his shark form was that of a great white), and he also found several pages worth of information about Annumagi. Deciding not to waste the remaining space on the rod, Harry also filled the rest with information on various plants (he was still only average in Herbology), and used the rod.

Unfortunately, he had forgotten what had happened the last time he had used a completely full rod, and ended up with a splitting headache. He managed to calm it down after lying face down on his bed with the curtains pulled round, and by one thirty, there was barely a pang left.

COMC was next; it was a nasty reminder about Hagrid's possible leaving, and though the lesson on how to rid your garden of Horklumps was quite interesting, Harry fiercely determined that Hagrid could do much better, and that no teacher could ever replace him. He soon realised he was being quite ridiculous, since there was no actual proof that Hagrid would be leaving at all, but decided that it was better to be safe than sorry.

It was impossible to get into the library after lessons had finished, as the corridor it was situated on had to be declared impassable by Filch; a thick mist was filling the corridor, only contained by the wards that had hastily been put up by Flitwick, when it had been discovered. Apparently two of the students who had attempted to walk through it had been turned into Gnomes, and while half the teachers tried to work out ways to either turn the students back, or get rid of the mist, the other half were busy searching for Fred and George, who had (suspiciously) last been seen running in the opposite direction from the corridor. There was no doubt as to who the culprits were.

Ron was now competing in the unofficial Inter-House Chess Tournament (the next match would be early next month), and Hermione had the brilliant idea of how to spend their free time. She dragged a protesting Harry down to Hogsmeade, where she pointed out a quite modern looking shop called 'Skife and Brim Engravers'.

"The finals of the Inter-House Chess Tournament are going to be in January," Hermione explained, "So we can pool our money together and get a present for the whole school - a cup, so that the chess champion can actually win something, rather than just a title."

The shop not only did engravings, but also sold cups, shields (not the armour kind) and statues to commemorate events. As it was getting closer to Halloween, there was several deals going on in-store; cups were on a 'buy now, pay next month' offer, while shields were offering free enchantments.

The pair scanned the shelves for half an hour, finally selecting a large, gold-coloured one, with a plaque at the base. It had two ornate handles, but was otherwise blank. They left it with the storekeeper (Mr. Skife), with orders for the plaque to say 'Inter-House Chess Champion', as well as engravings of tiny chess pieces around the rim.

The total came to fifty-one Galleons and two Sickles (or just under a hundred and twenty-eight pounds) of which Harry had insisted paying thirty Galleons, after Hermione had firmly told him that she wasn't going to let him pay the full cost. The money would be subtracted from his account next month.

Before they went back to Hogwarts, Hermione raced into the bookstore to buy a new book they'd just got in; 'The Practice of Conjuration' which looked incredibly dull.

"There's charms or enchantments, which affect things already there," Hermione explained eagerly, "And transfiguring things uses what's already there to make different things - but conjuration is a lot harder and far more complicated, because when you conjure something, you bring it forward out of absolutely nothing."

This sounded to Harry exactly like what he'd done with the Techno-Magic ice spell that he'd sent at the daemon, but he didn't mention it; it looked like he was strong enough to conjure things with no trouble, and his new wand - which was good for conjuration - would amplify that.

They returned to school just in time for supper; Harry quickly fled to the dormitory, so that he wouldn't be tempted by the succulent pork and juicy cutlets that were covering the table.

In the dormitory, he researched a bit of staff-fighting on the laptop, before turning it off and wondering what to do now. He wasn't in the mood to read, or research anything he didn't need to - there were no clues to follow up as to the whereabouts of the Myrrh Cage - he had no homework to finish - neither Sleepless nor Rhiannon were online - he couldn't fly, because a light snow had started just before they had returned - there was really nothing to do.

Sighing, he tapped his fingers on the package of Animagus forms, before he decided to practice changing. He knew how it was done in theory, thanks not only to his usual lessons, but also to the rod of 'The Tiger's Book of Transformation', and 'Animagi: The MOM Authorised Guide'.

Opening the package, Harry closed his eyes and picked one of the figures at random. It was the lion, frozen in the middle of a ferocious roar, crouched down and about to pounce. Harry cast the counter-spell to the shrinking one already on it so that it grew back to the size it had originally come out as, about half a foot tall.

Wrapping it in his Invisibility Cloak, Harry made his way through the school corridors until he came to the unused classroom he had first met Levina in. Placing the lion on one of the desks, he locked the door with a spell, and mentally ran through the basics of the Animagus transformation.

He focused on the lion figure, getting every detail imprinted in his mind. Once he had managed to change one part of himself - whether it was a single hair, or a whole paw - he would be able to change it easily the next time he tried. Once he had managed to change every part of his body, no matter how long it took him, he would be able to then change entirely into his other form with no trouble at all. Changing back would be quite easy as well, because the body would naturally want to return to its true form as soon as the mind let it.

Deciding that he would start extremely small, and try to change his eyes to the amber ones of a lion, Harry shut his own, and concentrated on what it would be like to have those eyes; how they would feel, the sort of detail that could be seen with them, how far away he could see things; when he'd done that, Harry opened his eyes and tried to actually see like a lion - he told his body that he was a lion, that he could view things just as they could, and layered these thoughts with a hint of magic to make it more convincing to his brain.

As his brain started to believe that he could see things as a lion, Harry started concentrating on what a lion would think of the things it saw - how it would classify them, or whether it would ignore it. Now the change quickened, and he felt a tingle in his eyes as the magic got to work.

The muscles holding his eyes became more powerful and his vision became slightly blurred as the cones and rods that helped sight became stronger as well. A second later, his vision cleared out again, not stopping at his old human sight (which now seemed so inferior), but increasing until he could see each engraved hair on the figurine's body, and every dent in the wooden desk.

Blinking to get his eyes adjusted to this new level of sense, Harry looked slowly around the room, carefully noting that he could see where each ray of light fell. "Wow," was all he could whisper, as he tested himself by telling his body that as a human, he could never see as much as this. Instantly, there was a tingle, and his super-sight vanished. Now telling his body that if he could see once as a lion, then he could do it again, the sight returned.

Harry grinned triumphantly. He'd done it - mastered part of the transformation into a lion. There was still a lot more to go, however; taking it upon himself to attempt the claws, Harry did the same as he had done with his eyes - convince the brain that his nails were actually claws because he was a lion, and that he could sheathe or unsheathe them at will. This was a lot harder, because rather than simply increasing what he already had, Harry had to change much of the physiology of his fingers - in the end, he discovered that he couldn't do it, because his mind insisted that as lions had a claw on each of the three 'fingers' on each paw, Harry obviously couldn't be a lion; Harry had to remedy this by giving up on claws, and changing his whole hand instead, which took far longer - obviously there were limitations to this sort of thing.

When he finally did manage to transform his right hand though, it was much easier to convince his brain to change his left hand - after all, he told it, if my right hand is a paw, why not my left? - and with them came the claws, which he could bring in or out of the velvety padding at will.

He was quite surprised however, by the fact that the fur on his paws - instead of being the golden of every other lion - was a deep, rich black, like a smooth, inky pool.

By the time he looked at his watch and realised that he would have to run if he were to make it back to the Room of Requirement before Filch started his rounds, Harry had managed to change both his hands and wrists into paws, his eyes into lions' eyes, and he had also managed to increase his hearing, although to do that, he had been forced to change his whole ears - which although he couldn't see, he guessed had the same black fur as his paws; he could also feel that they had taken the shape of lions' ones, and had moved up his head until strands of his hair nestled around them.

He made it to training right on nine o'clock, and Levina - as always - was already there waiting for him. "I don't suppose you heard about my little Animagus problem," he said by way of a greeting, before she even had a chance to open her mouth.

Levina raised an eyebrow. "Hello to you too. What Animagus problem?"

"Well, more of an Annumagus problem," Harry admitted, and told her the whole story from the Animagus lesson to his practice just a few minutes ago. Levina didn't seem too astounded; instead she appeared quite pleased.

"Good, I can help train you in that." she said matter-of-factly, as though turning into fifteen animals was the most normal thing in the world. "Now, have you researched any more about sword-fighting?"

Harry stared at her. "Um - hello? Can you perhaps give me a hint as to why the Heck I'm an Annumagus?"

Levina looked at him, annoyed. "Honestly. It's as I said before, I don't know everything. One of your great-great-great-great ancestors probably had it, but it missed a few generations. Only people with power above a certain level can receive an ability; probably only Enchanters and above can have the Annumagus ability, and you were the first Enchanter for a while in your family. Anyway, it doesn't really matter."

Harry didn't quite see her reasoning for the 'it doesn't matter' part, but he decided to accept it for now and continue training. He was increasing the amount of time before he was beaten each session; however, he was still losing against Levina, and she insisted that he had to win five fights in a row against her before she'd take the sheathe off her sword and fight with the poison blade, and five more fights after that before she'd declare him fully trained, and move on to staff-fighting and then hand-to-hand fighting.

"I've added some more sword-fighting techniques to the laptop," she told him after their forty-seven minute fight, as Harry nursed several nasty bruises and a cut on his arm. "They're of a different fighting style to the ones from the books by Chal d'Sparrn, so if you're up against an opponent who's worked out your moves, switch into a different style to confuse him. There's a particularly nice backward thrust in the new information, as well."

"Yes, because that's really my priority right now," Harry grumbled, though he didn't mean it. "Thank you for cutting my arm off, it's a big help to my training."

"No, that comes next week." Levina told him. "Oh, stop whining, you can heal that in a second."

Harry gave up trying to gain sympathy and used some Techno-Magic to quickly heal the gash, which had been caused by Levina running the slightly angular edge of her scabbard over it when he had left an opening. "Yeah, but that's not the point," he bemoaned jokingly. "Hey - are we still going to train during the holidays?"

"Of course!" Levina snorted, as though he were an idiot to be unsure of it. "Oh, and that reminds me; I don't want you to have anything unhealthy at the Halloween feast."

Harry's jaw dropped. "But - but includes just about everything!"

"What a pity. Looks like you'll have to miss out," she said politely, smiling pleasantly. "Just ask the House Elves to bring you a nice salad or something up, because the second you enter the Great Hall, I'll be keeping my eye on you. Oh, and at Christmas dinner, you can have a slice of cake, but that's it."

Harry could do nothing but gawp, and the woman glared at him. "Would you destroy everything you've working at, all the days of discipline, just so you can stuff your face at the feast? I saw you sneaking that bit of chocolate at lunch a while ago -" (Harry pretended he hadn't heard that part) "- and I was nice enough not to tell you off because you'd done so well the rest of the time, but if I let you do as you want at the feast, we'll have to start over from scratch. You'll have your meal before you come into the Hall, got it?"

Harry muttered an affirmative, and wondered how he was going to get through Christmas dinner with only a slice of cake to celebrate the day, and not even that much at Halloween, both days of which food was a big part of.

"Also," Levina said loudly, giving no sign that she'd seen his despondent look, "I think you do more exercising as well. It's all very well eating healthily, but that's not going to build the muscle you need to make your attacks powerful; if you hit someone with a sword, it's not going to do much good if it just gives them a bruise."

"I play Quidditch," Harry defended himself, but the woman was having none of it.

"Well, you're not doing it when it isn't the right season, are you?" she pointed out. "And besides, letting a broom do all the work isn't going to increase your stamina; and having these lessons just twice a week will only help a little. I think you need to do some proper exercises; just start off with a jog in the morning before breakfast, that sort of thing." Seeing Harry's dismay, she smirked. "I've been far too lenient with you, letting you use rods to learn; now you're going to have to work hard to better yourself, and believe me, it has to be done. You can know every fighting technique in the world, but if you can't do it, then what good is it to you?"

Harry had to admit that this was true, but that didn't mean he had to like it. "Fine," he submitted finally, wondering whether Levina was actually a personal-fitness trainer in disguise.

~ ~ ~

Thursday passed without incident, but Friday was the day that an official-looking owl swooped into the Great Hall at breakfast time, along with the rest of the post owls. Harry had already finished his breakfast (a small bowl of fruit and some kind of 'low fat cereal' stuff which tasted like cardboard) in the dormitory, and had finally forced himself into a ten minute jog around the school grounds, thanking whoever it was that invented warming charms.

He was now sitting with Ron and Hermione, waiting for the Daily Prophet to arrive and arguing over which Chocolate Frog cards were the rarest (Hermione was keeping out of that conversation), as the tawny owl gave a deep hoot, and stuck out its leg so that Harry could untie the letter it was carrying.

"Who's it from?" Hermione asked interestedly, as the bird took flight and left.

Harry licked his lips nervously, his heart suddenly pounding. "It's got the Ministry seal in the corner," he told them. "It's my OWL result." Hermione and Ron exchanged identical looks.

"Open it then!" Ron urged, "Come on mate, it can't be bad - you had those rods to help you, and you said you found it really easy, right?" Harry nodded, feeling a little more confident.

"Yeah, you're right. I mean, I'm practically fluent in all three of the languages; how could it be bad?" he said, more to reassure himself than to explain away his fears. Summoning up his reserve of Gryffindor courage, Harry tore the envelope open and brought out the folded parchment. His hand hovering over it he took a deep breath, and unfolded it. "Here goes nothing," he said, trying to sound cheerful, and began to read.

Dear Mr. H. J. Potter,

The results of the Magical Languages exam at Ordinary Wizarding Level, higher tier, taken at 0900 on Monday, 22nd October at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, are as follows:

Written Exam: 95 % Outstanding

Aural Exam: 91 % Outstanding

Total (Median Average): 93 % Outstanding

These results have been noted by the Ministry of Magic, Education Department, and you have been recorded as an Outstanding pass on this subject, or an 'O'.

Yours sincerely,

Murray Mackindle

(Head of the Education Department of the MOM)

Slowly, Harry's mouth grew into the widest beam possible. "You won't believe this," he said, barely able to force the words up his throat. "Just look at this!"

He practically thrust the paper at his friends, and Hermione grabbed it and read through, before letting out a high-pitched scream of delight which made everyone else in the room jump. "You did it!" she shrieked, not caring who was watching, and Harry felt himself growing a bit embarrassed as the other students watched the trio in curiosity, and more than a few whispers went round.

"Er - right," Harry said, wondering how Hermione could be even more excited than Harry about his own score. "Look... do you think you could maybe, I dunno, sit down? Everyone's staring Her- Hermione? Are you listening? Oh, good grief." He gave up as Hermione raced over to the staff table to show his score to Professor Clayton.

"I think she's finally snapped," Ron said conversationally. "By the way, well done mate. I'll make sure not to mention it to my Mum, or she'll send you a whole wardrobe instead of a sweater for Christmas."

Harry was about to respond, but Professor Clayton had just reached him, and now clapped him on the back like an old friend. "Well done, Potter! Miss Granger's just shown me your result - looks like you won't be coming to the lesson today, will you? Use the extra time well; we're expecting great things from you."

Harry almost winced as he said something similar to that which Ollivander told him when he bought his first wand, but caught himself in time. Thanking the Professor, Harry glanced over his shoulder at the staff table. 'Carnaena' was smirking, Snape was scowling heavily, and the other teachers were looking suitable impressed and proud. The headmaster gave him a small nod and smile, and as he did so, the realisation of what he had just achieved caught up with him, and Harry's grin returned to his face.

By lunch-time, everyone knew that the reason for Hermione's outburst at breakfast, and people were now giving Harry the thumbs-up as he went past, or in the case of the Slytherins, glaring at him with such force he felt that if looks could kill, he wouldn't just be six foot under, he'd be halfway to the centre of the Earth and partially decomposed by now. Harry just gave them a cheerful smile and sarcastic wave in reply.

"You know, I wouldn't mind being the centre of attention if people reacted to me like this, instead of hero-worship or trying to run away," Harry commented as the trio passed Filch, who was having a fit after someone had charmed a permanent 'PROFESSOR POTTER: SULTAN OF THE SMART!!' into one of the walls in multi-coloured, sparkly paint. The Weasley twins had been suspected, but as they had been in detention for the fog-filled corridor prank when it had appeared, it was likely the culprit would never be discovered.

The last two hours of the day were Magical Languages for Hermione, and Herbology for Ron. There was a choice for Harry now that he wouldn't have to take Magical Languages: use the free time to study, do homework and revise, or go to Herbology with the Gryffindors who weren't taking Magical Languages.

Harry eventually decided that he could use the spare time, so at one thirty, he was left alone in the Common Room whilst every other student (except the transfigured ones in the Hospital Wing; apparently they'd turn back after a week) went to their next lessons.

Feeling a little guilty that he'd turned down Herbology, Harry made up for it by researching several dozen species of magical plants and their properties (with the help of the laptop and rod), and finished his homework before wrapping up in his Winter cloak, casting a warming charm, and going for a twenty minute run around the school grounds, cursing Levina will all the breath he could muster once he'd finished, which wasn't very much.

There was still an hour of lessons before the other students returned, so Harry spent the rest of the time researching some Techno-Magic spells and some of the new sword-techniques that Levina had mentioned. When the others did return, Ron was absolutely appalled by the fact that Harry had been studying.

"Why did you waste your time like that?" he asked, amazed. "It wasn't as if any teachers were checking up on you, mate." Hermione was much more pleased, and since he had completed his assignments during his free time, Harry was left by himself again while his friends tried to complete their own. He'd offered to help Hermione with her Languages homework, but she had looked horrified at the idea of not doing it by herself, and shooed him away.

Harry and Ron managed to sneak into the kitchens to have their lunch early (they were quite thankful Hermione wasn't with them, as the House Elves seemed a little wary of her after she had begun the whole S.P.E.W business) before they went to Basic Auror Training, which was - much to the students' dismay - outside in the snow.

Harry didn't mind too much; he'd brought his Winter cloak with him, and cast a warming charm over himself and Ron before they went outside. After ten minutes, when the Aurors still hadn't arrived, Harry, Justin and Angelina went around putting warming charms on the others, at which the Aurors finally arrived, praising them for showing initiative; it seemed the 'wait outside for the tutors who aren't coming' had been a test of teamwork and helping others, and they were allowed to go back indoors and into one of the usually unused classrooms, which had now been cleared out and cleaned in preparation for the class.

There were no seats; the students stood and watched as Captain O'Keifer demonstrated several strategies and tactics employed by Aurors for planning raids on suspected strongholds or Dark artefacts storage places, with the help of moving models of buildings and Wizards, and why these strategies were made.

"And there I was, thinking they just blew in the door and ran in screaming for everyone to drop to the floor," Ron mused as they left the lesson. "Seriously though, I thought it took maybe a month to plan a proper raid, but two months? I mean, bloody Hell, the Dark Wizards could have destroyed the whole building and evidence by then."

"I know," Harry agreed. "I mean, they're trained well for fighting and everything, but there's so much paperwork and red tape - that's another reason why I'd hate to be an Auror, having to get permission from about five different superiors before I could stop a bunch of Death Eaters from killing someone."

"Someone ought to change the system," Ron contemplated. "Hey, why don't you be a politician, Harry? You could be Minister of Magic in a year - your publicity's already done, and you'd care about what laws should and shouldn't be changed, instead of your own popularity, like Fudge."

Harry grimaced. "Thanks Ron, but I have no interest in becoming one of the living dead." he said, pulling a face, as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Aragorn," he told her, and she swung away revealing the entrance. He brightened up. "On the other hand, if I did become Minister, I could make a law banning the Head Boys and Girls from choosing daft passwords."

"Go for it," Ron said half-seriously, and they made their way up to the dormitory.

~ ~ ~

Saturday was spent in pure recreation, Harry starting to develop a spell in Spell Creation class that would make his wand light up when he was near a Witch or Wizard or above; it basically reacted to magic that was contained within a human, so it couldn't sense Squibs (who had no, or very little magic in them), nor any of the levels up to Witch and Wizard. As they had learned in magical theory, a never-ending pool of magic existed everywhere in the universe; creating a spell was the art of taking the right types of magic from the pool and refining it, then binding that spell to a trigger - such as a wave of a focus and an incantation, or simply concentrating (though most spells had an incantation as a trigger, as the caster could make it easier to control the power of their spells by using more forceful motions, or a quieter voice).

The 'pool' of magic was not like a stagnant pond; it was a flowing stream, and a magic-level was really not how much magic a human contained, but how much they could control; the more powerful the caster, the more magic they could 'absorb' from their surroundings and use to create a spell. As soon as they 'absorbed' the magic, focusing it with a trigger action, called the spell locus, it gained their own magical signature and the spell was cast.

As soon as the magic was gone from one place, taken in to be used for a spell, the cross-dimensional magic stream would rush in like water to fill the empty space.

Some spells - mainly Forbidden ones - left empathic signatures instead of magical signatures. This was because with some spells, the body didn't act as a conduit to the magic, and then have it forced out to the wand (or in wandless magic, just out as a spell). Instead, the magic was pulled through the mind - as the soul to the body, so was the mind to the brain - and then straight out to take effect, without passing through a focus. An imprint of the mind, like a fingerprint, was left by this type; and instead of existing only as the spell was cast, and then vanishing, like magical signatures, the empathic signature stayed around for a long time, from a few hours after the spell had been cast, up to several months for the most strong ones.

Harry also went to training that night, where Levina gave him a few more rods containing useful books; 'The Chameleon's Book of Beasts', which was in the same series as 'The Tiger's Book of Transformation', and worked in much the same way, except that it listed thousands of magical beasts rather than transfigurations; 'Demonology and Daemon Summoning Volume Two', and 'Enchantments for the Journeyman'.

Sunday continued successfully as well, partially due to the fact that Dumbledore announced that the wards had managed to be breached by the daemon because they had not (obviously) been strong enough - but now several professionals would be collaborating during lessons the next day to put up wards designed specifically against daemons, which meant there was no chance that any daemon would ever be able to enter school grounds.

There were loud cheers at this piece of news (though why the students thought another daemon might attempt to enter school grounds - for the media was telling everyone that the one that had killed Trelawney was dead - Harry didn't know), and the trio and those of the teachers who knew the daemon was still alive were most relieved.

Monday passed around, and as it arrived, Ron pointed out that they had only a month until the Christmas holidays began (and just two days until the Halloween party, Harry sighed happily as he thought of Cho Chang). "Boys," Hermione snorted, annoyed. "Holidays and girls. Is that all you ever think of?"

"There's Quidditch!" retorted Ron, and took another swig of Pumpkin Juice, reminding Harry that he'd have to stop coming down to meet the others after he'd had his own breakfast. "And food, of course." Ron added.

"Me more than anyone else," Harry said glumly, and Ron patted him on the back.

"Well - we'll try to sneak you some food from the feast," Ron said, not sounding entirely certain it would work.

Harry shrugged. "Nah - don't bother. I mean, I'm doing this for a reason... it's not like I want to destroy what I've been working for." Hermione looked impressed by this.

"Well done, Harry!" she praised, pleased that at least one of the boys was thinking without their stomach.

Harry was about to mention the fact that he was sure his tutor would find out somehow, anyway, but Hermione then realised that lessons started in five minutes, and she and Ron were forced to abandon their half-finished breakfast, and run to the next lesson before they were late.

Magical Languages was the first hours worth of lessons for Harry - but no longer taking it, he instead practised turning into his lion form learning how to change the rest of his arms, and also change his hair into a mane. This took much of the time, and the remaining few minutes were spent watching out the window as the specialised wards were put up. Only Captains O'Keifer and Marcella, and no Unspeakables (except for Professor Figg) now guarded the school, and all three were out along with Dumbledore, the temporarily returning Embeller Adoric and several Ministry Ward-Creators around the edge of the grounds, each creating a 'wall' every hundred yards which would be joined on to each other before the adults moved on to create new sections.

The entire process looked as though it would take the rest of the day - excluding breaks for them to rest, as well - and Harry quickly grew bored of watching the repetitive actions.

After break was Defence Against the Dark Arts. They had long since finished daemons, and were now focusing on Vampires, half-Vampires and Wraiths, which Harry learned to be quite different from the Muggle horror films that Dudley occasionally watched. Lunch was after that (Harry kept Ron busy while Hermione sneaked down to Hogsmeade to collect the Chess Cup), followed by Charms.

Harry, who had of course learned the entire book (actually, so had Hermione, but she didn't remember the page numbers now, did she?) quickly whipped through the spell they were being taught, and at Flitwick's request, gave a demonstration of the next two they were meant to be learning - a spell to learn the exact time and date, and a more powerful form of Wingardium Leviosa, which would make the caster float a foot or so off the ground.

All anyone was talking about once lessons had ended was the Halloween party the next day; Ron and Hermione still hadn't found dates (personally, Harry suspected they wanted to go with each other, but were too afraid to ask - well, he'd let them do it in their own time), Harry was still daydreaming happily about his date with Cho - when Seamus pointed out, 'It's not really a date, is it? I mean, you're not going anywhere, you're just wandering around the Great Hall with each other', Harry told him to sod off - and Ginny was going with Ivan Gregor, one of the transfer students who had asked her to accompany him.

Ron wasn't happy about this (Gregor had been sorted into Slytherin), but Harry and Hermione finally managed to shut him up by pointing out that he'd only be there for the year, which had less than eight months to go, anyway.

In Amulet Making, Harry finished his plans, and started collecting the materials needed to create the amulet. 'Finally,' Harry thought, satisfied, as he made his way back up to the dormitory; 'A chapter that doesn't end on a cliff-hanger for the readers.' Wondering what he'd meant by that fourth-wall-breaking thought, he was interrupted by the far-off sound of the entrance hall doors slamming open, and the raised voices of strangers entered the school.