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Chapter Three—Spellcrafting

"Please pay attention, class."

More than one pair of eyes snapped to the front of the room, and Tom gave a thin smile. That included students who wouldn't have paid this much attention just a day ago. It seemed that a lot of them were waiting breathlessly to see what class would be like with a professor who had an acknowledged lover.

Harry was sitting near the back, Esmeralda coiled around the legs of his desk, eyes wary and quiet.

Tom raised his eyebrows a little. He wouldn't interfere in where Harry wanted to sit—for now. But he wasn't going to simply accept Harry slumping back into the shadows and making a pretense that he was weak.

"You know that your Defense NEWT is now less than two months away," Tom began. "I am proud of you all, and do expect you to pass it. But for these last few months, we will concentrate on your individual skills and strengths that might give you an edge over other students and a chance for extra points. I am convinced that you are capable of doing the more basic studying on your own."

Harry's eyes narrowed. He was no doubt trying to figure out the angle. Tom gave him a demure smile and turned away to focus on Miss Granger, who had taken a seat near the front of the class.

"What do you think you're particularly skilled at when it comes to Defense, Miss Granger?"

"Research."

Someone near the back of the class laughed. Miss Granger blushed, but lifted her head and kept her eyes focused on Tom.

"I wish I had more students who knew their own strengths as well," Tom murmured. The laughter stopped abruptly. "Well, Miss Granger, how do you think you could show your knowledge of research on the NEWT, besides simply answering questions correctly?"

"I could—go into depth in my answers? Demonstrate that I know the history and theory behind the spells?"

"Very good. Two points to Gryffindor." Tom lifted his eyes to study the rest of the class. "Keep this in mind. While the examiners will ask you to choose certain answers to questions, they are also always looking for more, for knowledge of theory and clear explanations and relevant information. It is how they separate an Exceeds Expectations from an Outstanding, and on occasion, an Exceeds Expectations from an Acceptable.

"Other people's forte, of course, will be more the practical part of the examination than the written, and that is as well. It would be boring for everyone, including the NEWT proctors, if all of us were able to do the same things."

Harry sat up, his eyes widening. Tom smiled at the section of the class that included him, and if Harry wanted to think that smile was particularly targeted at him, then he could. His being right did not mean that Tom was going to admit it.

"For example," Tom continued, almost idly, "any sign of spellcrafting ability is valued highly on the practical portion of the exam. Even a minor modification to an existing spell can count highly. It is not enough to merely cast an unusual spell, the way it was on the OWL exam when some of you mastered the Patronus Charm."

"But someone told me the Patronus Charm was NEWT-level magic, Professor," said Ernie Macmillan, who had gained a spot in Tom's class more because of his performance on the written portion of the OWL than the practical.

Tom nodded to him. "Technically, it is. But you are students in NEWT-level Defense who have had two years of instruction many people never receive, and it is assumed you would have that charm not only mastered, but thoroughly explored and understood. Now you will be expected to do something else."

Macmillan looked a little confounded Well, let him. If the boy had been depending on the Patronus to carry him past another lazy practical performance, that was his problem.

Granger's hand rose. Tom nodded to her, and she blurted, "But, well, they wouldn't expect spellcrafting of us, would they, sir? I mean, it's just not a discipline many people know much about! You have to have expert-level knowledge of the field you want to craft the spells in, and Arithmancy, and magical theory…"

Harry was slumping further and further down in his seat, scowling at Tom. Tom gave him an angelic smile back and said to Granger, "Of course it will not be expected, Miss Granger. But it is an example of something that would earn you a high mark on the NEWT practical, and we do happen to have a student in our class who has demonstrated substantial skill in spellcrafting."

Miss Granger looked around as though expecting someone to crawl out from beneath a desk. "Who's that, sir?"

"If you will please come up to the front of the class, Mr. Potter?"

Miss Granger made a loud gasping sound as she stared over her shoulder at her friend. Harry stood up and walked up to the front of the classroom, but his eyes were steady in a way that said he wouldn't easily forgive Tom for this. Tom simply smiled back. Harry had kept his abilities to craft spells secret because he didn't want to do well in Defense, for fear of attracting Tom's attention.

Now, there was no reason for him not to stand on his two feet and attract the respect of everyone involved in Defense.

"Potter did that?" Macmillan was whispering to Bones. "I don't believe it! He must just be depending on Professor Riddle's favoritism to make it look like he did!"

Tom ground his teeth together without making a sound, but kept his gaze fixed on Harry. He didn't think it was his imagination that Harry's eyes were darkening, too, or that his hand twitched towards his wand.

"Show us what you can do," Tom whispered.

He really wants me to do well.

Harry wanted to reply to his thoughts that Professor Riddle wanted him to do well because he was angry about being fooled for so long, or to make himself look good because his partner was magically skilled. But he couldn't deny the feeling that welled up in him, the appreciation and the longing.

He had held back in Defense because he had to, and knew he had to. It would be too easy for his parents to hear that he was doing well in that class and connect it to a desire to impress Riddle, even if they hadn't known anything about the longing that drew Parselmouths towards other Parselmouths.

But it had hurt to hold back in Defense, to see Professor Riddle's eyes glaze when they swept over him or just look at Harry in utter indifference.

But now his secret was out. Now, he really had no reason to hold back.

Harry found himself smiling as he walked towards the front of the classroom. He caught Hermione's eye, and looked hastily away. But at least she hadn't looked at him with the same devastating kind of betrayal she had briefly in the corridor. She would figure out that he had kept this secret for the same reason as the other one.

"Mr. Potter, please describe to me under what circumstances you tend to invent new spells."

Harry blinked. He had thought Professor Riddle would ask him what kinds of spells he'd created. But he could answer this, too. He cleared his throat. "Under imperative need, sir. If I really wanted to keep someone from finding me, for instance, I would invent a concealment spell."

Professor Riddle nodded, a smirk working its way across his face. Harry didn't glare, but it was a near thing. Yeah, I invented that kind of spell, and you found me anyway. Laugh it up.

"I would like to see what kind of spell you can invent under the pressure of a duel," Professor Riddle said. He ignored the way that Harry was struggling to keep his mouth from opening. "I will give you five minutes to think. Then I will launch curses of the kind that could leave you in the hospital wing for a week. Create a spell that would allow you to end the fight at one blow."

"With all due respect, sir," Harry growled, "you're much stronger than I am, and you have your familiar with you, so she could aid you in—"

"I promise that Nagini will not help me," the professor said, holding his hand up, and Nagini hissed and settled back around the legs of his desk from where she had lifted her head. "And I do not accept the comparison of our respective strengths when winning a duel depends on so much other than raw magical power. Four minutes and fifty seconds, Mr. Potter."

Harry clenched his fists. Yes, he'd assumed that Professor Riddle wouldn't let him hide in the back of the room anymore, but not like this.

But it didn't seem like he was going to get out of it, and if he had to show off his strength in front of the class, then he didn't want to be humiliated. He closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to ignore the feeling of a silent clock ticking away.

He had to end the fight at one blow. He had to do it without knowing what spells Professor Riddle would cast.

It couldn't be a shield, even a shield that reflected spells. Professor Riddle would be prepared for that. And some existing shields did that, or could, anyway, assuming that the spell landed centrally enough on the shield.

"Three minutes, Mr. Potter."

Harry felt a sharp prickling nervousness work its way down his spine, as he wondered for a second if Professor Riddle would turn away from him if he was unable to come up with the spell. But he pushed that thought away. No, the longing and the pull between them was too intense for that to happen.

It might mean that he was disappointed, though. And that was nearly as bad.

"Two minutes and fifteen seconds, Mr. Potter."

Harry felt the prickle of nervousness become one of anger. He hadn't asked for this! Yes, he'd wanted to stop being lonely and forced to deny his familiar, but that wasn't the same thing as wanting to be on display in front of the class or have his spellcrafting skill revealed.

And then something came to him. Professor Riddle was expecting him to do something stupidly complicated. But even Harry, as talented as he might be, would have needed a couple hours and a lot of Arithmancy to create a spell like that.

But a stupidly simple spell? Especially a spell that was a variation of one he already knew?

Yeah, he could do that. More to the point, he could use the spell he'd already invented and bend it a little so that the act of casting it would be a pure effort of will, without having to worry about getting unfamiliar magic to channel through his wand or his familiar link to Esmeralda.

"Thirty seconds, Mr. Potter."

Harry carefully focused his mind on the spell he'd created that smoothed out the rippling edges of his Invisibility Cloak's effect when he moved. Yes, the Cloak was a marvel, but it was possible to see the edges of it when they didn't cover Harry's ankles all the way, and if you were looking right at the area where Harry was standing in a brightly-lit room, there was a shine like light reflecting off water.

It probably wouldn't happen very often. Only two people had ever caught Harry like that, his mum and Professor Dumbledore. But it had still bothered Harry, and he'd invented a spell to counteract it.

"Time, Mr. Potter."

Harry opened his eyes, mind full of the weaves of the spell, and the numbers of the Arithmancy that had originally created it. He half-bowed his head. "Are we going to focus on the usual dueling strictures, Professor Riddle?"

"The bow and the count? Yes. I consider it fair when I will be at a disadvantage, Mr. Potter."

Fuck, I wish I knew if he really meant that. Professor Riddle's face was smooth in a blankness that gave nothing away. And maybe it was just a way to spare Harry's pride in front of other people, and maybe it was a vote of confidence in his new partner, and maybe it was a joke. Harry had no way of knowing.

He focused again on the weaves of the spell, and ignored the soft hiss from Esmeralda, who had slithered up to the front of the classroom with him but remained off to the side. It wouldn't be fair for him to rely on her when the professor had promised not to use his bond with Nagini.

"On the count of three, we will begin," Professor Riddle said. "Bow."

Harry bowed, in the position that Professor Riddle had taught all of them, one arm wrapped across his stomach and head tucked down so his chin touched his chest. Professor Riddle did the same.

The classroom had gone breathlessly silent. Harry didn't dare look at their audience.

"One."

Harry concentrated hard on the weaves of the spell.

"Two."

Professor Riddle's wand twitched.

"Three."

Harry shouted, "Sol personae!"

Professor Riddle cried aloud and clapped his hand over his eyes. His wand clattered to the floor. The silence erupted into cries, and gasps, and clapping, and Macmillan, who always had to make people hear his opinion on everything, shouting, "What did you do, Potter? What did you do?"

Harry swallowed. It had worked the way it was supposed to, then. He'd thought of bending the weaves that deflected light from his Cloak so that they would reflect light instead, in a huge flash that only one person would see.

His dueling opponent, in this case.

It was easier than inventing an entirely new spell, so Harry supposed in some ways that he'd cheated. But Professor Riddle had also cheated by dragging him in front of the class and only giving him five minutes, so it was fair.

Professor Riddle slowly lowered his hand from his eyes. He was blinking, but the first thing he did was glance at the rest of the class. "You saw nothing, then?" he asked.

"No, Professor," said Macmillan. "But I can surmise, from the incantation Potter shouted, that it had to do with light? Did you see light, sir? What was it like? How did you—"

"Be quiet, Mr. Macmillan."

Harry was grateful for the end of Macmillan's chattering voice, but he wasn't sure he liked the long, thoughtful look that Professor Riddle directed at him any better. He swallowed and tried to smile, but it probably came out as a grimace. "Does that count, sir? I think it's a new spell. I don't know of any others that have that effect. I mean, Lumos, but that shows up for everyone, not just the victim."

"You are chattering nearly as badly as the other," Esmeralda scolded him.

Harry bit his tongue. Professor Riddle continued to study him, and then smiled.

"It indeed counts, Mr. Potter," he said softly. "Fifty points to Gryffindor."

Harry gaped. Professor Riddle barely assigned points at all, and he certainly never assigned that many or to the House that opposed Slytherin. But he was smart enough to take it. He nodded hastily, scooped up Esmeralda, and retreated to his chair again, while Hermione started quizzing Professor Riddle on the practice of spellcrafting.

And he could take the chance to sit down, and breathe.

And grin to himself, because whether other people wanted to admit it or not, that had been pretty damn spectacular.

Tom felt as if he were floating when he dismissed his NEWT class. Harry was beyond amazing. Tom suspected he had probably employed a version of another spell he had invented rather than a brand-new one, but still.

To have thought of that, to have determined that it would indeed end the duel at one blow, and to have cast it wandlessly…

Tom sighed a little. There were excellent reasons for waiting until the end of the term to sleep with Harry, including obeying the law and keeping his job, but he would have liked to show Harry how much he appreciated him that evening.

"Tom."

Tom looked up with a blink. Albus had come to find him, which was something so rare that Tom's stride lengthened instinctively. Nagini hissed a wordless warning behind him, and Tom dropped a hand to beckon her on.

"What is it, Albus? Has something happened to Harry?" It seemed impossible, when Harry had left the classroom only five minutes before, but he was a seventh-year and a member of the rowdiest House. Tom had learned exactly how much trouble that combination could cause when Fred and George Weasley still attended Hogwarts.

"No." Albus's eyes were full of shadows. "In fact, I met him and directed him to go to my office. James and Lily came through my Floo five minutes ago."

Tom stared at him incredulously. "And you sent Harry up to face them alone? Or rather, with the snake familiar they might not know about yet?" He shook his head and began to run, ignoring Albus's startled shout after him.

There was no reason to suspect that Harry spending five minutes alone with his parents would be sufficient for them to persuade him to abandon his familiar, or Tom, or Parseltongue. But neither had Tom intended to let Harry face them alone, or so early.

Nagini hissed in agitation at being left behind. Tom cast the spell that would Lighten her and float her to him, and he wound her around his body without breaking stride.

You will not face them alone, Harry.