Harry Potter and the Mind Mage

By James Milamber

A/N: Apologies for the exceedingly long wait, but I've just moved – AGAIN – and we've only just had Internet installed. On the upside, we're now living on 18 acres of Aussie bushland. Score!


The rest of the holidays went by quickly, once the Weasleys had left, and soon enough the halls were again filled with students. Harry had questioned the Headmaster about his strange encounter Christmas Day, but Dumbledore had simply told him that such an offer was made only once, and he should not abuse it. Hermione had immediately gone into research mode, spending the vast majority of each day poring over musty old tomes in the library, looking for any references to the "Royal Phoenix", as Charlie had called them.

Classes started once again, and Harry was glad for the distraction – there had still been no word of Padfoot, although Dumbledore assured him again that this was a necessary step of his "rehabilitation". Harry just wished he knew what his Godfather was going through – it couldn't have been easy to be returned to life stuck as a dog permanently. He did have to wonder, though, why after almost two whole months of being back, the Headmaster had seen fit to take him away.

The first lesson of the new year was Defense Against the Dark Arts. James entered the classroom looking rather distracted, and something of it lingered about his eyes as he addressed the class.

'Right,' he said in a no-nonsense tone that hushed the near silent room still further. 'The last thing I taught you before the break was how to harness raw magic, even if not many of you could do it right away. I'm assuming you've all been practicing?' There was a chorus of "yes" from the class. 'Right then, today we'll be going more in depth into that, and learning a bit about the origins of such magic. Can anyone besides Hermione tell me where raw magic was first employed in everyday use?'

Hermione blushed slightly as she lowered her hand from where it had been frantically waving in the air. Harry shook his head wryly – some things never change.

'It was originally used by the ancient Greeks,' Blaise Zabini supplied.

James nodded, and Harry's ears perked up. Hadn't Hermione said Hermes was one of the Greek Gods? He sat forward in his seat and paid close attention to what James was saying – he had a feeling he might need the information in the future.

'The original Greek wizards and witches set themselves up as Gods with the use of raw magic,' James explained. 'Back then, magic was much easier to control because there were not as many people around who could tap into it. As I'm sure you all already know, what we call "magic" is just our way of quantifying the elemental forces that govern life itself. Through the use of certain items, and ritual phrases, we can harness this power to do our bidding.'

The confused looks shared by most of the class confirmed that they had not, in fact, been aware of this. James assessed their expressions and shrugged.

'Not important, it might be a bit beyond some of you,' he said dismissively. 'The point is, the less people who actively use magic, the easier it is to control. It's a bit like flying a broom – it's very easy to keep the same course when you're the only one in the sky, but when there are fifty people in the air with you, it can be a lot harder. They interfere with your flight path, get in your way. Magic is the same, which is why in modern times we use wands to help us channel the magic.' He paused. 'Well, most of us, anyway,' he amended.

'Now, to business.' James clapped his hands together sharply, and an illusion appeared in the air in front of him: a large white and red cross. 'The Knights Templar. Who knows anything about them?'

'A group of Christian knights that fought the Saracens during the crusades,' Hermione answered immediately, although she looked slightly puzzled by the abrupt change of topic. 'They were greatly feared for their skill in combat and their dedication to their cause.'

'A text book definition, if you happen to be a Muggle,' James nodded. 'In actual fact, they were a group of wizards who took up the sword to fight in the Holy Wars. It was they who rediscovered the methods the Greeks used to harness raw magic, which accounts for the battle prowess Hermione mentioned. It's very easy to win a lot of fights in a hurry when your sword weighs next to nothing and your armour is completely impervious.' He clapped his hands again sharply, and the cross vanished. 'It is thanks to their efforts that we have the knowledge of raw magic we have today. No one knows exactly where they found that knowledge. Some speculate it was buried in a crypt under Jerusalem, although how on earth it got to Jerusalem from ancient Greece we'll probably never know.'

The remainder of the lesson was spent taking notes on the various uses of raw magic, which also included accidental magic. Harry remembered with a chuckle the boa constrictor he had inadvertently set free at the zoo. He wondered briefly if it had ever made it to Brazil.

'Next lesson we'll start to go over how to actually use this magic to aid your spells,' James told the class as the lesson drew to a close. 'Dismissed. Harry, a word.'

As the rest of the class filed out, Harry made his way to the front of the classroom instead.

'We'll start your training tomorrow night, seven o'clock, right here,' James said without preamble.

'Do I need to bring anything?' Harry asked.

James shook his head. 'Just yourself.'

Harry nodded, and swung his schoolbag onto his shoulder. 'I'll see you tomorrow night then.'

As Harry left the classroom he glanced around, looking for Ron and Hermione. Instead, he found a nervous looking Blaise Zabini leaning against the wall a few feet up the corridor.

'Potter,' Blaise said hesitantly. 'Can I have a word?'

Harry was immediately on his guard – just before the holidays, Blaise had been one of Malfoy's biggest supporters. Apparently things had changed. The Slytherin held himself as if ready to run at an instant's notice, and Harry noticed his hand in his robes where it was quite obviously wrapped around the handle of his wand.

Harry nodded slightly in answer, then followed Blaise as he headed up the corridor to an empty classroom. They both entered, and Harry closed the door and cast a silencing charm over the room. Blaise glanced nervously at the door, then prudently added a locking charm to the door.

'What's all this about, Zabini?' Harry asked coldly.

'Look, Potter, I'll be frank.' Blaise drew in a deep breath, and let it out with a sigh. 'I'm sure you're already aware that my father was a Death Eater.'

Harry blinked. This wasn't exactly what he was expecting. He'd also caught the past tense. 'Was?'

'He was killed over Christmas,' Blaise said shortly. 'Killed by the Dark Lord himself.'

'Why?' Harry watched the Slytherin closely. His expression was bitter, with an intense hatred seething just below the surface.

'The Dark Lord gave my father a mission. My father failed that mission. Failure is not tolerated within the Death Eater circles.' Blaise lowered his gaze to the floor.

'Why are you telling me this?' Harry asked curiously.

'Because, Potter, I want revenge on the bastard that killed my father.' Blaise looked up, and Harry saw the fire burning within his dark eyes. 'This summer, I was supposed to take the Dark Mark myself. There is no way in Hell I'm going to do that now. Way I figure it, you can help me, and I can help you. You want to take the Dark Lord down, and I want to help you do it. No one screws a Zabini and gets away with it.'

'What makes you think I can help you?' Harry asked carefully.

Blaise snorted. 'Don't play dumb with me, Potter. The Dark Lord fears you for some reason. I might not know why, but I do know there's something different about you. Dumbledore wouldn't single you out so much if there wasn't. Now, do you want my help or not?'

Harry didn't answer right away, just studied the Slytherin sitting opposite him intently. Blaise matched his gaze, not actively hostile, but rather fierce and determined.

'Come with me,' Harry said finally, standing and canceling the spells on the room. He left the room and headed down the corridor with Blaise following, towards the Great Hall.

He was in luck – he found the person he was looking for as she was about to enter the Hall for lunch.

'Isabelle,' Harry called, and the girl in question stopped and turned, sighting Harry. Her expression flickered for an instant when she spotted Blaise, but she was Slytherin enough to keep any outward show of surprise to herself. That was exactly why Harry had gone to her – she was still a Slytherin, regardless of everything, and she knew how their minds worked.

'What is it?' she asked.

'We need to talk, privately.'

'Of course,' she nodded. 'Lead the way.'

The three of them made their way up to the seventh floor, to the Room of Requirement. Isabelle kept Blaise back around the corner while Harry went ahead and opened the room. When all three were inside the replica of the Gryffindor common room, Harry had Blaise repeat his story.

Isabelle was frowning by the time her ex-housemate had finished. 'You say your father failed a mission. Can you tell us what that mission was?'

Blaise seemed to fight internally for a few seconds, obvious dislike for Isabelle written on his features. When he answered, it was grudgingly. 'I don't know,' he admitted. 'I only know it had something to do with Gringotts.'

'Makes sense,' Isabelle mused. 'If Voldemort can gain control of Gringotts, he'd control most of the money in the Wizarding world. At that point, I'd imagine most of the official resistance against him would collapse.'

Blaise shrugged. 'I suppose so,' he said indifferently. 'So, Potter, now that your tame little Slytherin,' he curled his lip mockingly, 'has given me the once over, are you going to let me help or not?'

'Isabelle?' Harry looked at her inquiringly, ignoring Blaise's tone.

'His story is genuine, as far as it went,' she shrugged. 'It's in keeping with the way Voldemort operates, and my contacts in Slytherin told me this morning that the Zabini name had fallen into disfavour. Whether he can be trusted…' She trailed off and shrugged. 'It's your call, Harry.'

'I knew you were going to say that,' he grumbled. He gazed thoughtfully at Blaise. 'What are you going to do?'

'Get revenge,' Blaise said flatly.

'We gathered that,' Isabelle said patiently. 'How did you intend to do that, exactly?'

'Any way I can.'

'I'm disappointed in you, Zabini,' Isabelle said mockingly. 'A Slytherin with no plan? Shame on you.'

Blaise scowled at her. 'I don't have to put up with your shit, Lestrange,' he said coolly. 'If you want the help of a Slytherin well placed to pass on information, smuggle materials into the castle, or out if you need it, then you can have it. If not, then stop wasting my time.'

Isabelle smirked. 'Firstly, Zabini, remember that you came to us. Secondly, we can already do all of those things, and far more reliably than you can. Now, do you have anything of value to add, or shall we leave?'

'Isabelle,' Harry said reprovingly. 'He wants to help, that's all.'

'Sure he does,' she muttered, but fell silent.

'Look, Blaise,' Harry started. 'It's not like I wouldn't appreciate any help I can get, but there are risks. For one, it was hard enough for the other Gryffindors to accept Isabelle, never mind someone who has openly associated with Malfoy for years. Ron especially wouldn't be happy. We'd have to keep any agreement a complete secret.'

'Am I supposed to care what Weasel thinks?' Blaise sneered.

Harry scowled at the Slytherin boy. 'That's exactly what I mean. Sorry, Blaise, but my answer is no. I'm not going to risk everything on the chance you might actually hold to your word.'

'Fine,' Blaise said shortly, standing and walking swiftly for the door. A second later, and he was gone.

Harry and Isabelle shared a glance, and the latter smiled wryly.

'That went well,' she said.

'I dunno,' Harry sighed, standing and beginning to pace. 'Did something about him seem off, or is it just me?' When Isabelle nodded to confirm, he went on. 'I believe his story about his father, but I don't think that's why he came to me.'

'Perhaps he's trying to prove he's worthier than his father by infiltrating the Order when everyone else has failed?' Isabelle hazarded a guess.

'Could be,' Harry granted. 'I think you'd better keep an eye on him.' He hesitated a moment. Something was telling him to tell her about the vision he'd had over the holidays. He'd only told Dumbledore so far, and the Headmaster had asked him to keep it to himself. He had a distinct feeling that it was relevant to Blaise's sudden "reversal".

'Have you ever heard of a Death Eater called "Williamson"?' he asked.

Isabelle brow creased into a frown. 'It rings a bell,' she admitted. 'I can't quite place the name, though. Seems to me I heard Malfoy talking about someone with that name once. He was bragging, as I recall.'

'When is he not,' Harry said dryly.

Isabelle flashed him a grin. 'I think he was one of the Death Eaters that escaped Azkaban with the Imperious plea,' she said thoughtfully. 'Why do you ask?'

'Oh, no reason,' Harry said with slightly exaggerated casualness. 'Come on, we'd better get to the Great Hall if we want anything to eat.'

'Harry James Potter,' Isabelle said flatly, standing and placing both hands on her hips. 'I am far from stupid, you know. What aren't you telling me?'

Harry winced – he should have known it was silly to try to hide anything from her, of all people. 'I had a vision over the holidays. I saw Voldemort talking to a Death Eater called "Williamson", saying something about him being competent.'

'And Dumbledore told you to keep it quiet,' Isabelle said flatly. At his reluctant nod, she threw her hands up in the air. 'More bloody secrets! For the love of God, does it ever end?'

'They were talking about being almost prepared for something,' Harry added, 'and that they needed more time to make sure Dumbledore couldn't interfere. I don't think Dumbledore wanted it made public that he knew about it, so they don't take even more precautions or something.'

'Which is fair enough, but how in Merlin's bloody name are we supposed to be ready for whatever it is if he sits on the warning?' Isabelle answered crossly.

Harry held up his hands to pacify the irate ex-Slytherin. 'Don't ask me, it was Dumbledore's idea,' he said hastily.

'Harry? Harry, are you in there? Oh, hi Isabelle.'

Ginny stopped abruptly as she noticed the expression on the dark haired girl's face. 'What's Alex done now?'

Isabelle gave her a startled look and then laughed. 'Nothing I'm aware of,' she said with a smile.

'In that case, he's waiting in the Great Hall for you.'

'I'd better go down, then.' She nodded at Harry, and quickly left the room.

'What was that all about?' Ginny asked Harry, worming her way into his arms.

'Nothing important,' Harry shook his head. 'Just…something.'

Ginny gazed at him levelly. 'That is a singularly unenlightening response, Mister Potter,' she said flatly.

'Just a little problem with a Slytherin,' Harry said carefully. 'Nothing Isabelle can't handle.'

Ginny raised an eyebrow skeptically, obviously not believing him, but she let it slide. 'In that case, are you coming down to lunch or not? If we hurry, we can still get something to eat.'

'You haven't eaten?' he asked as they left the Room of Requirement.

Ginny shook her head. 'Snape made me stay behind and clean up in Potions,' she said with distaste.

'Sounds like fun,' Harry deadpanned.

'Not really,' she laughed softly. She frowned slightly as they made their way down one of the moving staircases to the lower floors. 'He was acting a bit odd, though. He kept looking at me weirdly, like he wanted to say something but couldn't.'

'Probably trying to figure out the best way to insult you,' Harry snorted.

'Maybe,' Ginny's expression turned thoughtful. 'I did hear him muttering about Professor Milton – James – at one stage. Maybe he said something to Snape?'

'We could ask him, I suppose,' Harry shrugged, not really all that interested in Snape's odd behaviour. As far as he was concerned, the dour Potions Master could go jump off a bridge.


That afternoon was the first Advanced Defense class for the new year. Dumbledore had still not told Harry who would be taking the classes in his stead, and so it was with as much anticipation as the rest of the students that he headed for the classroom right after lunch. A space had been left clear right up the front of the room for Harry and his friends, and they sank down to sit on some of the numerous bean bags that had mysteriously appeared all over the room.

By the time the class was due to start, fully two thirds of the upper years of Hogwarts students were present. There was even a fair smattering of Slytherins in the group. Blaise Zabini sat staring stonily ahead, completely ignoring Harry – although no one noticed anything odd, as indeed there was nothing odd about this at all.

Finally, a door on one side of the front of the classroom opened and the new teacher strode in, a wide smile on his slightly worn features. Harry stared at him for a long moment, and then a massive grin formed on his face.

'Professor Lupin!' Hermione gasped.

'In the flesh,' Lupin chuckled, obviously amused at the various reactions. Most of the room was staring at him with shocked expressions. 'Now, let's clear a few things up right now. Yes, I am a werewolf. Professor Dumbledore has invited me here to teach you extra curricular defense material, which makes this class completely voluntary. Anyone who is uncomfortable being taught by me should leave now.'

Near the back of the room, Malfoy stood immediately and headed for the exit.

'Ah, Mister Malfoy. I am sorry to inform you that Prefects are still required to attend these classes,' Lupin said pleasantly, stopping the platinum-haired Slytherin in his tracks. With a sharp glare, Malfoy stalked back to his seat.

'No one else would like to leave?' Lupin asked mildly.

No one moved.

'Excellent! In that case, we'll start by going over some of last year's curriculum, just to be safe. Harry, could I have a hand please?'

Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Isabelle, Alex and Cassie stood and began to help Lupin divide the students into their year groups. By the end of the lesson, using a combination of practical testing and Harry and his friend's foreknowledge of the students, he had separated them not by year level, but by ability. The weaker and newer students were on the left side of the room, gradually getting stronger and more skillful as they moved along to the right.

'Now, I'd like you all to remember what group you are in,' Lupin instructed as the class was coming to a close. 'You will practice with the students in your group, and I would like to see you all putting in some effort out of class. The more practice you get, the more likely you are to be able to protect yourself. Dismissed.'

As the majority of the students left the room, Harry stayed behind. His friends stood by the door, making sure all the students left, and then quietly exited. Ginny was last, throwing an indecipherable look Harry's way. When the door finally closed, Harry enveloped the last Marauder in a hug.

'It's good to see you, Professor Lupin,' he said finally, pulling away from the bemused older man.

'Please, Harry, I have a name. When we're in private, I'd like you to use it.'

'But calling you "Remus" sounds…odd, for some reason,' Harry winced.

'Moony, then,' Lupin offered, indicating that they should head for the Great Hall with a motion of his hand.

'Better,' Harry smiled, holding the door open then closing it after himself and Lupin.

'I must say, it's good to be back at Hogwarts,' Lupin glanced around the corridor fondly, obviously reminiscing. 'I never did feel at home anywhere else.'

'I know what you mean,' Harry said softly. Lupin glanced at him sharply, but stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. 'I suppose I have the Weasley's, but even so…' he left it hanging.

Lupin didn't say anything for a long while, but he did wrap his arm about Harry's shoulders in a fatherly fashion. When he finally did speak, his voice was even quieter than usual. 'Harry, I know I can never replace your father or Sirius, and I certainly have no desire to. What I can do, however, is be here for you now.' He sighed heavily, and Harry felt his arm tense about his shoulders. 'I reacted badly to Sirius' death,' Lupin continued after a moment, as they turned a corner and headed down a flight of stairs. By now they were walking very slowly, and Lupin was gazing off into the middle distance. 'I wasn't there for you, and I'm sorry. I'd like to make that up to you now, if I can.'

Harry said nothing. He didn't really feel the need. Lupin was in the castle, obviously at least partially recovered from the loss of Sirius; he was back on reasonably good terms with Dumbledore, James was helping him develop the skills he would need to defeat Voldemort once and for all, Sirius was back, although he was still missing for the moment, and of course there was Ginny. Somehow, everything seemed right again.


A/N: And that's quite enough of that. For those of you who are interested, I've begun re-posting an edited version of HPMM in my Yahoo! Group.

Review Responses:

dress-without-sleeves: Nutter.

MsMissProngs: Maybe if you'd say something worthwhile, I'd reply to it:p

Larna Mandrea: One does one's best.

araya: Sure, you can do that.

Life Love Sanity: I planned to be finished before HBP – and then life intervened. –death glares life- So, it'll be awhile yet. I'm hoping to have the story complete in the next couple of months. Swimming…bleh.

Whispyraven: Actually, my knowledge of Hermes is completely off the top of my head…scary, eh? As to James and Snape, you're reading into it too much again – there's nothing there but mutual dislike, which is beginning to turn into grudging respect. You'll see. RE: H/G…you'll see. Harry's a bit thick, he'll get the idea eventually.

Junky: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them says that "a Phoenix can live to a great age". They're not immortal. As to the rest of your questions, all will be answered…eventually.

lexa: Things are about to take a distinct turn for the worse in the world of HPMM…but I'm not giving it away quite yet.

lalaluu: I'm rather proud of that line, actually. Cass and Fred might not last very long, and not for the reason you might think.

Laurie: Lol…put the pitchfork down, it's not necessary! –nervous grin- Glad to have you aboard!

Lourdes: As if anything is ever that easy for Harry…

Finbar: Living up to your name, I see.

Kordolin: Lol…probably a good idea, mate.

nebulia: But of course…Douglas Adams rocks.