Disclaimer: I don't own the name Harry Potter or the characters. Need I say more?
Harry Potter and the Potion of Devil's Tears
"Harry Potter, sir?"
"Go 'way…" Harry mumbled, turning over.
"Harry Potter must wake up, sir!"
"Huh…?" he groaned.
"It is Dobby, sir! Harry Potter has missed dinner!"
Harry's mind finally woke up. "Dinner? I've missed it? But that would mean I've slept for…" he checked his watch, "…eight hours!"
"Yes, sir. Mr. Wheezy is telling Dobby that you was missing…"
"Huh? Ron?" Harry finally gathered the strength to sit up. He rubbed his eyes. He looked down at the small elf, decked out in a knitted sweater and one of Hermione's knitted caps. He had what looked to be badly shrunken denims on, complete with mismatched socks.
"When did you see Ron?" Harry asked.
"He is visiting the kitchens, sir. He tells Dobby that you had gone to get your cloak, sir. Dobby offers to come and get Harry Potter, and I finds you here, sir."
The elf glanced briefly at Harry's stump.
"Dobby is sad for Harry Potter's sake. Dobby comes to get Harry Potter's robes from the hospital wing, and Dobby sees Madam Pomfrey standing over Harry Potter…" the elf gave an odd choking and gagging noise. Harry realized that Dobby had popped in as Madam Pomfrey was in the process of amputating Harry's ruined arm.
"I'm fine, Dobby. I just came here to get my cloak and…fell asleep," Harry finished half-heartedly. How many people fell asleep to take eight-hour naps?
"Dobby is glad that Harry Potter is not hurt, sir. Dobby must return to the kitchens; there is cleaning to do," the elf gazed up at him with tennis ball eyes, his bat-like ears sticking out from underneath cap.
"I'll probably come down in a minute, Dobby. Let me just grab my cloak," Harry said, standing and stretching.
"I will have something waiting for you, sir!" Dobby said with a smile. With that, he disappeared with a crack!
Harry rubbed the back of his neck, thinking about his attempt at the Third Arm Transfiguration. He had just barely managed it, but hadn't really finished the transfiguration, and he had passed out from the effort. Hermione wasn't kidding; it was tough.
He closed his eyes, envisioning the silver arm attached to him, the strength pulsing through it, concentrating fiercely upon it. He envisioned himself, with the stump, and let the image of the Harry with the silver arm flow onto the image of the Harry with the stump, bending his mind upon bringing them together smoothly.
Again, a shocking sensation permeated Harry's nerves, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep the mental image locked in his brain. He opened his eyes as he felt something like lava begin to flow from his left shoulder and down his arm. He looked to see a mirror-like sheen forming over the stump, continuing down slowly, rolling down his arm like silver molasses…
He gasped and fell to his knees, out of breath. The silver receded, traveling back up his stump and growing smaller and smaller on his shoulder, until it simply disappeared. It felt extremely hot, the silver. Harry groaned and got to his feet.
"Better than your first try, I must admit, Harry."
Harry about had a heart attack. He spun around to see Albus Dumbledore, standing in the corner, his eyes slowly surveying Harry.
"Professor! I didn't…"
"…see me here? I have told you before, Harry, I don't need a cloak to become invisible." Dumbledore looked at him very sternly.
"Do you know what it is that you are attempting, Harry?" he asked.
Harry looked back at him. "The Third Arm Transfiguration."
"And do you know what it is, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, still giving him a piercing stare.
Harry looked down at the floor. "Dark Magic, sir."
Dumbledore looked at Harry over his spectacles. "Are you aware of the destructive potential of the Third Arm Transfiguration, Harry?"
Harry was still speaking to the floor. "Yes, sir." He looked up at Dumbledore. "I wanted to see if I could do it…if it would work…"
Dumbledore's face took on a slightly amused look. "You wondered if you could perform a transfiguration like this? You, who mastered the Patronus Charm at thirteen, learned the Summoning Charm overnight, and are head of your class in Defense Against the Dark Arts?" He made it sound like a joke.
"Harry, I admit that I am concerned about letting you perform this transfiguration. Dark Magic is named thus because of the history of it's use. However, I am willing to believe that you will use it responsibly. I myself have even used Dark Magic on occasion. I think that you have proven yourself to be an honest, self-disciplined person. Please do not make me regret my decision." He gave a pause. "Your grade in transfiguration may improve if you can handle something like the Third Arm Transfiguration. We shall have to see." He gave a small smile. "I'd suggest practicing fixing the image of yourself in your mind for as long a time as you can before your mind wanders. I believe it will aid you in concentrating better." With that, he winked at Harry and left.
Harry sighed, and walked to the door, picking his cloak off the peg as he left. The book that Harry had found lay forgotten on the hearth rug, where Harry had dropped it.
Harry reached up, tickling the pear on the portrait. It giggled, squirming, and morphed into a handle, which Harry grabbed and twisted, swinging the portrait outward.
"Harry Potter, sir! Dobby has food for you, sir!"
Harry grinned as Dobby, followed closely by six other elves, teetered toward him. They were laden down with what looked like enough food to feed all three Dursleys to the bursting point. Harry quickly sat at a small table near the door to the kitchens, pulling himself a chair. The plates of turkey and gravy, stuffing, corn on the cob, with pumpkin juice, Yorkshire pudding and pomegranates. Harry couldn't help but smile at the elves looking up at him, waiting to be told what to do.
"Thanks to all of you. I can handle it from here."
The elves all scurried away, except for Dobby, who stayed standing by Harry's chair, scuffing his little foot on the floor.
Harry slowly ate, thinking about what Dumbledore had said. He admitted that even he would be loathe to allow someone to use a transfiguration like the Third Arm Transfiguration. Harry could literally take apart the castle if he lost his temper. However, it would be a great asset to him in Quidditch, and also eating, he realized, as he hopelessly chased his food around with his fork, trying to get it to sit on top of the tines.
Harry also remembered Dumbledore saying that even he had used Dark Magic. When and why did Dumbledore use Dark Magic? He thought that Dumbledore would vehemently denounce anything like that, but apparently Dumbledore was not above taking drastic measures. Then again, Dumbledore said that spells were classified as Dark Magic because of the history of their use, or abuse, Harry mused. So even some Dark Magic could be used in a good cause, if taken seriously.
Harry shoveled down the last bite of pie, and stood up.
"Thanks, Dobby, and the rest of you lot. Good cooking," he said, smiling. The elves all beamed up at him, as two immediately magicked the empty dishes into the air and over the other elves' heads.
"I'll see you later, Dobby," Harry said, swinging the portrait out. He climbed out, and it swung closed behind him. He began to trudge up the stairs towards Gryffindor tower.
He was on a landing leading to the sixth floor when he rounded a corner and collided with a red-haired someone. They both went sprawling in a tangle of limbs and grunts.
"Oy, what's the big idea?" Harry said irritably, attempting to pick himself up.
"That's friendly," came Ron's muffled voice from being pressed into the floor.
"Oh, sorry, Ron," Harry apologized quickly, rolling off and allowing him to stand up. Hermione was right behind him, giggling to herself.
"What's so funny?" Harry said, getting his feet under him so he could stand up.
"That's the second time you've literally run into each other today," she said through suppressed laughter.
"Ha ha," Harry said, smoothing his cloak. "What are you two up to, then? Come to find me?"
"Yeah! Where in the world were you, Harry? We were worried sick, and we couldn't find you. Plus, the Room of Requirement was gone, and we finally had to get Dobby to go and get you out," Hermione said, going from amused to irate.
"The door disappeared because I was sleeping, and didn't want to be disturbed," Harry said, having already figured this out for himself. He had remembered Dobby saying he had hidden Winky there when she was drunk, and Harry presumed that the magic of the room had done the same for him.
"Sleeping? For eight hours? Come on, Harry, you can't expect us to believe that…" Ron said, clearly in disbelief.
"All right, Ron Weasley, then what was I doing for the past eight hours?" Harry asked with a bite of impatience in his voice.
"You were practicing that transfiguration Hermione mentioned, that's what I think," Ron said, looking straight at Harry. Harry must have given a guilty look, because his mouth twisted into a superior smile.
"Well, you were right that I tried the transfiguration, Ron, but I was telling the truth. I tried it once, and I fell asleep because I was exhausted after the first try," Harry corrected him in as neutral a tone as he could manage.
"One try? You fell asleep from exhaustion after one try?" Ron asked.
"It's not easy, Ron. I had only just started the transfiguration when I lost my focus. My second try was only marginally better," Harry said, then bit his tongue.
"Your second try? Harry, you can't just use a transfiguration like that in Hogwarts! What would Dumbledore say?" Ron said, an accusatory edge to his voice.
"Ron, get a grip. Let's go back to the common room, where we're not in danger of being overheard," Hermione said, jumping into the heated discussion.
Harry realized that they had been carrying on in rather loud voices. He turned on his heel and climbed the steps, still a little angry with Ron for jumping down his throat. What right did he have to accuse Harry of…
Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He needed to keep a cool head. Getting wound up wouldn't lead to anything good. The arguments from last year had taught him that.
They reached the portrait hole, and after Hermione gave the password, they all climbed in. Harry picked a table in the corner, far enough away from everyone else that he could whisper without having to worry about anyone eavesdropping.
Ron threw himself into the chair across from Harry. Hermione sat to Harry's left, settling into the chair with an apprehensive look on her face as she looked back and forth between Ron and Harry. Finally she settled her gaze back on Harry.
"How far did you get into the transfiguration, Harry? What was it like?" she asked, a poorly concealed curiosity in her voice.
"Well, I did just what you said. I fixed an image of the silver arm in my mind, then I imagined the arm on me. The first time, though, I couldn't really find a way to start the spell. To release my will, I mean. Anyway, I thought about what you had said about incantations serving as a release of the will for many wizards, even though most spells require them. So I basically fixed that image in my brain and thought about it as hard as I could, then said, 'Now.'"
Hermione was staring at him with a rapt expression on her face. "So what happened?" she said anxiously.
"At first, I felt a really weird sensation, like scalding water pouring down my arm from my shoulder. That's when I lost it the first try. The second try, I managed to keep my concentration. It was like my arm was slowly being covered in silver. The transfiguration moves kind of slow, and I actually watched it move from my shoulder down to the end of my arm. That's when I lost it the second time." He paused for a moment. "It doesn't really look like silver, to tell the truth. It looks closer to a mirror, or the chrome Muggles put on their cars."
"Did you pass out the second time?" Hermione asked. Harry noticed that Ron was sitting with his arms folded, an extremely disapproving look on his face.
"No, actually. I didn't feel that tired the second time. I didn't have to say anything to get the transfiguration started the second time, either," Harry recalled.
"And what about the consequences, eh? What's going to happen when Dumbledore or McGonagall finds out that you've been doing Dark Magic?" Ron interjected, the accusation still in his tone.
Harry reminded himself not to retort, and looked straight at Ron. "Dumbledore said I could, Ron."
Ron looked like he'd been hit in the stomach with a bag of bricks. "What? When did he say that?" he asked, his accusation robbed of its target.
"Right after I tried for the second time. He was in the Room of Requirement with me, but I didn't know it until after I'd tried again. He was hiding, or something. I didn't see him. How he stayed invisible, I don't know," Harry admitted.
"And he just said, 'Right-o, not a problem, I don't mind'?" Ron asked incredulously.
"Actually, he said that he'd let me use it on the condition I didn't abuse it. I gathered that he was sort of going out on a limb for me," Harry told him. "Er…no pun intended."
Ron slumped in his chair, a defeated look on his face. "It figures Dumbledore would make an exception for you…"
"Cut it out, Ron. If there's anyone who would benefit from the use of the Third Arm Transfiguration, it's Harry," Hermione said in a snippy tone. "Don't start in on the whole 'Harry's the special one' argument. Who's the prefect here?"
Ron had the good grace to look abashed, and mumbled an apology.
"So, Harry," Hermione said, turning back to him, "can I…see you try it?"
"Now wait a minute! I don't think…" Ron said in an alarmed tone of voice.
"Ron! Will you please stop? Harry's not going to be turned into a monster if he uses the transfiguration. Calm down," Hermione said, exasperation dripping from her voice. She looked back at Harry, a hopeful look in her eyes.
"Please, Harry? It'd be fascinating to watch," Hermione asked, practically pleading with him.
Harry frowned slightly. "Hermione, if you're that desperate, why don't you give it a try?"
Hermione's face flushed, and she dropped her gaze to the table, mumbling something under her breath.
"What's that?" Harry asked, leaning in so he could hear her.
"I couldn't even get it started," she whispered in the smallest of voices. So she had tried, Harry thought to himself. Why would Hermione want to use such a Transfiguration? Then again, Harry felt sorry for her, knowing her zeal for excelling. Failing to even produce the beginning of a spell would not have had a good impact on Hermione. But why couldn't Hermione do something he could? She had always been able to do anything that he could manage. In many cases, she could do more. Harry took in the ashamed look on Hermione's face.
"Sorry, Hermione. I didn't know that," Harry said. He leaned against the table. "I guess I could try again. Try not to do or say anything, though. I have a hard enough time focusing as it is."
Harry pulled back the cloak from his left shoulder as Hermione practically dragged Ron's chair (with him still in it) in front of the table, so that the other Gryffindors wouldn't be able to see Harry, or what he was doing.
Harry stared at the table, fixing that image of himself with a metallic arm into his mind. He imagined the thrill of power that the transfiguration offered, and imagined himself flowing into the image in his mind.
He watched his arm carefully as a uncomfortably hot sensation started at his shoulder. A small patch of silver materialized on his arm. Harry fought to keep the mental picture rooted in his mind as the mirror-like substance engulfed his entire shoulder, circling around it, coming to just above his armpit. It slowly began to flow down his arm like syrup, the silver expanding.
Hermione's eyes were wide, and Ron's mouth was hanging open as the silver continued down, oozing over Harry's skin. Finally, it wrapped around the end of the arm, forming a silver-enclosed stump of Harry's arm. Then, like a snake rearing its head, the silver extended itself, coalescing into an elbow, then a complete joint…
Harry gasped, his mental stamina drained. He collapsed forward onto the table, his right elbow resting on the edge, as well as the silver left elbow. However, the chrome limb began to dissolve, and the elbow slowly melted away, until the end of the stump was resting on the table. Ron and Hermione continued to watch as the silver moved back up Harry's arm, shrinking back into the small patch that it started as, and then disappearing into nothing.
"Wow, Harry," Hermione breathed. "That was your third try? This transfiguration is on the level with the Patronus charm, even harder, maybe. And you've gotten that far after only three tries?"
"Still can't get it finished, though," Harry said weakly, attempting to gather his wits.
"I know, Harry, but really…" she said, clearly in awe.
"I think that it might be a good idea for me to go to bed now," Harry said, beginning to feel tired and sleepy.
"Come on, Harry. I'll help you up the stairs," Ron said, quickly standing and positioning himself on Harry's right side. He pulled Harry to his feet, putting Harry's arm across his shoulders (Ron had to stoop to do this, as he was a good six inches taller than Harry). He helped Harry hobble across the common room, to the curious stares of many, then up the stairs to the dorms. Hermione followed until they reached the stairs to the boy's dorms.
"Good night, Harry. That's really amazing progress you've made in only one day after three tries," she said again, turning and going down the short hall to the door leading to the girls dorms.
Ron practically dragged Harry up to the sixth years' dorm, as Harry was fading fast. Ron sat him on his bed, and barely after kicking his shoes and socks off and throwing his cloak on his trunk and his glassed on his bedside table, he collapsed onto his pillows, falling fast asleep without even changing into his pajamas.