Because I like to discuss stuff I created a Forum for this story. You can ask me questions there.
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"It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it." –Aristotle
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Harry went to the table in the library he usually used and found Hermione already sitting there. She gave him a flat look. "First day back and you're already dueling in the corridors."
Harry frowned. "You heard about that?"
"Everyone's heard about it. You could have been gentler with him. Half the first years are terrified of you now."
"All I did was use the knockback hex."
"That's all?" She blinked. "I heard that Nott was positively terrified of you."
"Well, I used the shield charm to defend myself from Nott's fire spel,l but otherwise, yeah? Just that. What did you hear I used?"
She flushed "That doesn't matter. What electives are you taking next year? I couldn't decide. I wanted to take all of them, unfortunately I couldn't fit them into my timetable. Arithmancy and Runes are a must, but magical creatures sounds interesting and divination is supposed to be relatively easy. I suppose-"
"You thought I used dark magic on him."
She worried her bushy hair for a moment with her fingers, making him sigh. "What did Lisa tell you?"
"You know it's creepy when you do that. You always seem to figure things out with just a little information."
"Hermione, you can tell me how creepy I am in a minute."
"Fine. She told me you took some books from the library. She mentioned Nonfatal Curses and I looked the book up."
"And?" He prompted.
"Well the curses inside are just non-lethal, that doesn't mean safe, they just don't kill. Some of them are used for torture."
"Hermione," he said, using a sterner tone. "Voldemort will know these spells. I have to know them to be able to counter them. I have to." He paused. What was the best way to reach through to her? "Dumbledore knows, by the way. He knows I've been pilfering that section."
"Dumbledore knows you've been reading those books?" She tugged on her hair a little more and her mouth straightened into a line. "Well… I suppose if Dumbledore trusts you…"
"See Hermione, it's perfectly understandable. Now, I was planning on taking arithmancy and runes as well."
She smiled brighter. "I know you'll beat me in them, Hermione; now, what is this about me being creepy?"
She gave him an indignant harrumph before turning back to her Herbology text.
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It wasn't hard for him to track down Neville. The boy had brought his cactus with him to school and needed a place to store it. Professor Sprout was all too eager to allow her prodigy his special project.
Harry walked into the greenhouse and simply waited for the boy to finish mixing soil for his plant. When Neville did finally turn around, he jumped.
"H-Harry. What are y-you doing here?"
"Well I was hoping you'd tell me what was bothering you. You were withdrawn back at your gran's, and you didn't meet Hermione and me for studying."
"Well I th-thought that you wouldn't study with me, now that we're not in Herbology together anymore. Everyone knows I'm not much of a wizard. I-I can't do anything much, except for plants."
Mostly untrue. It had been a concern of Neville's, but it wasn't the boy's priority.
Harry just waited patiently, letting Neville grow more and more uncomfortable. "You still want to be friends, even after seeing my parents?"
Harry nodded and smiled at Neville – he didn't need more than someone who would stand by him, at least right now – and Neville gave a weak smile back. "It's a little late Nev, but I figured tomorrow we could meet up and you could help me with my Herbology essay. The one for the mandrakes. I'm a bit lost for which soil type is most beneficial for healthy growth when the adolescent mandrakes are developing. I'll show you the shield charm in return, if you want me to."
Neville nodded again, still quiet. There was no quick solution to Neville's problems; he himself would have to work at them. After saying goodbye, Harry left for Ravenclaw tower.
When he arrived, he plopped down in chair next to Lisa, who was so engrossed in her book she hadn't seen him come in.
"Hey Lisa." She jumped, and he gave a little chuckle.
"It's not funny," she whispered. It was normal to be quiet in the common room during this hour. In earlier hours it was perfectly acceptable to be loud, but after 7:00 it was expected that others would be studying or having debates. There were no debates tonight, but Harry had heard they would start at the end of the week about Professor Lockhart, over whether he was a decent teacher.
"Did you know, everyone wants you to give a lecture on what happened with Quirrell last year." Harry didn't, but also didn't particularly care.
"That knowledge belongs to my friends."
"Knowledge belongs to everyone." Michael sat down.
Harry sighed, "Then how does your mother make money developing potions? Congratulations, by the way. Furthermore, why aren't our school books free?"
Michael frowned but didn't have a good answer, so he considered Harry's point before rejecting it.
"Knowledge should belong to everyone." Harry nodded his approval. It was better, but not perfect. Not all knowledge and not just to anyone, but basic educational knowledge should be. Here and now wasn't the time for debate, however. He turned to his book, it was The Introduction to Augeomency under a glamor, so he was able to read it in public instead of hiding off on his own. At least, here in the safety of the Ravenclaw common room. If he tried in the library Hermione would demand to know more about it.
"Did you hear about the new girl?" It was Lisa.
Harry hadn't, but he didn't particularly care about new students after Colin. He shook his head, eyes not leaving the book.
"She's a bit barmy from what I heard," Michael replied over Harry. It was like having another Tracey around. Not that he didn't like Tracey, but much like any one of his friends, their eccentricities could get on Harry's nerves.
"Is that all you guys do? Gossip? Hermione was waiting in the library to lecture me about my duel earlier today." It had been all of five hours since the duel had happened and it now seemed to be common knowledge.
"I heard her dad runs an odd magazine company," Michael said, ignoring Harry.
"Dumbledore is also a bit barney too," Harry pointed out, playing devil's advocate.
"Yeah, but that's Dumbledore," Lisa countered.
"So great wizards are allowed to be off their rocker?" Harry asked.
"Well it is a bit different for him to say a few strange things at the start of the year than for some Loony first-year girl."
They sat in companionable silence for a few hours before Michael called it and went to the dorms. It was then that Lisa looked at Harry.
"I heard about Daphne."
Good Lord.
"Gossiping again? You also told Hermione about the books."
She shrunk back. "I didn't think I wasn't supposed to."
He sighed. "Sorry, she just grilled me. You know how she is."
She nodded. "It's okay. What are you planning to do about Daphne?"
He snorted. "Daphne will come back to me on her own time. She wanted to work on a new set of quills and she'll give the mirrors her best shot before she gets stuck and comes to ask me for help."
Lisa looked worried. "You're just going to ignore it?"
"Daphne knows where to find me."
"You're not even going to try and talk to her, you're just giving up."
Harry shot her an annoyed look, but she didn't shrink away this time.
"Waiting isn't the same as giving up, Lisa."
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The Gryffindor Quidditch team had booked the pitch as soon as possible the first week back and promptly had some sort of brawl with the Slytherins, so Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had to deal with the two rival houses and their petty power plays.
Colin hadn't asked Harry for a signature, nor even a photograph after the third day, despite Harry being "the youngest player in a hundred years!" which Harry found delightful. Harry had been in the library with Neville and Hermione when the boy had come up to Harry and asked if it was true that he hexed people who interrupted his studying. Harry affirmed that it was true and pointed his wand at the first year, causing him to scuttle off. Hermione had hit Harry with a heavy book about Transfiguration for that, but it had finally gotten rid of Harry's over-talkative shadow.
Of course, something so good meant Harry's weekend had to be spectacularly ruined. After Harry helped Neville practice some spells, he found Hermione out in the courtyard sitting alone. He could instantly feel that she was upset, so he moved forward and sat next to her. She was rubbing her eyes, which were slightly red and puffy.
I've been doing damage control all week.
He didn't say anything for a while. He just sat next to her and waited until she was ready. When she was she started talking about trying to convince her head of house she could take all the classes she wanted to next year, Harry just waited until she petered out.
"What happened, Hermione."
She sniveled once. "It was Malfoy he-" She choked slightly. "He called me a mudblood. I didn't even know what that meant. I didn't know there was persecution in the wizarding world like that."
Harry pulled back into himself. Malfoy needed another round of headaches and Harry was now able to push a lot deeper than before.
"He said I didn't deserve magic, tha-that I should just go back to the muggle world." Her sinuses seemed congested from her sadness. Harry hesitated, then put an arm around her to guide her back to the practice room. He locked the door with a charm and waited for her to calm down again.
"Thank you, Harry."
"You know. I suspect that Malfoy's father wasn't pleased you outscored his son. I'm willing to bet that's why he went and sought you out."
She nodded. She looked like she was feeling much better, but they still sat quietly for what must have been another half an hour. Hermione didn't want to go out into the rest of the castle yet, so they spent time practicing their latest transfigurations.
Harry needed to find a way to make Malfoy afraid of him again. He would have thought that his duel with Nott would have done the trick, but evidently the brat had found a new source of bravado. It would have to be snuffed out.
When he returned to the common room, he found Lisa reading in the corner. "I'm going out again tonight under the cloak. I figured you'd want to know."
She breathed deeply. "Getting some more reading material?"
He shook his head. "Just returning some; they were too advanced. I need to study runes and arithmancy more."
It was true, though it hurt his pride to admit it. The Alchemy of Blood and Sixth Element of Witchcraft described the properties of blood magic and, though he understood the basic elements of using blood as a powerful magical medium or a focus to bind certain magics, it was well out of his league to understand some of the actual steps necessary to achieve any of that.
"You're just returning some?" Her eyes were suspicious.
He nodded, and she sighed.
"You know you don't have to come," he offered, pre-empting her thoughts.
She nodded and gave a little huff. "Fine. You don't need a babysitter anyway."
Harry grinned. Maybe he could get one book. He had made healthy progress through the others.
Daphne did not come by later and Harry found himself more restless because of that, despite Quidditch practice starting up again. She was avoiding him a lot more than he had believed she would. She was giving him the full silent treatment and was dragging Tracey along too.
"You know you need to go talk to her," Lisa told him one day in the library.
"You really have to do it before it's too late." Hermione was trying to be diplomatic. "Besides, you miss working with her on enchantments and teaching her shortcuts with the spells."
He opened his mouth to tell her there were no shortcuts for spell work.
"Tracey told me she's waiting for you to talk to her." God, it was like a tennis match.
"Won't she just come back on her own?" Harry found he struggled to predict Daphne's behavior now that he didn't have access to her mind. Hermione just gave him a flat look.
"No. You have to go talk to her, show her what your friendship means."
"But I didn't do anything!"
Hermione hit him with a book, Lisa scoffed, and Neville gave harry a nervous thumbs-up.
He looked at Neville. "You're supposed to have my back."
Neville put his other thumb up and grinned sheepishly.
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He resolved to hunt Daphne down, which involved waiting in a different section of the library than he normally did; near the enchantments. Sure enough, she turned up and approached the section where she could find the auditory linking charms for the mirrors. It didn't take her long to notice the book was missing. Harry had been content to wait for her to show up even if it took all weekend, which was why he fortified himself with a restricted book and several others on spell theory.
He still hadn't finished creating a new spell, and it was creeping up his priorities list. It seemed like all the good spell ideas were taken, so he didn't know what to work on next. Last year, he settled on making a spell which would force the victim to spin one hundred and eighty degrees. Sure, it wasn't particularly useful or complex, but he had made it, and he would be lying if he said even creating such a simple spell had been easy.
He began working on his second spell when Daphne showed up to find her missing book. It was on Harry's table.
"Hey, Daphne." He held the book up, waggling it. She turned to looked at him and her nostrils flared. She made to leave but he hit her with his new spell and she quickly found herself facing him again. She huffed.
"Are you just going to keep hexing me?"
He shrugged. "Not if you have a seat."
"Well I don't see why I would."
He wiggled the book again.
"You'll have to return it eventually."
He sighed. "Come on Daphne, I've missed practicing with you and working on enchantments with you. Come and talk to me."
Her shoulders seemed to slump. "I missed you too."
"I also brought this." It was a folded-up bundle of liquidy silver.
"Your father's cloak?"
He nodded, and after a moment's consideration, she consented to sit in the chair. "What spell did you hit me with, anyway?"
He smiled. "I haven't named it yet."
"You invented a spell?"
He nodded. "I started last year. It's not easy at all, but…"
"Great wizards do it, and you want to be a great wizard."
He frowned. "You guys have really been talking."
She snorted.
There was a beat of silence. "Look, Daphne, I should have been more considerate about your loss; just because it doesn't bother me doesn't mean it doesn't bother you.
She shook her head. "It wasn't about my father really." He gave her an astonished look. "Well it was, but it wasn't. It also wasn't about the cloak."
"How do you guys have time to talk this much? I'm always around some of you."
She glared at him, but he knew she was resisting a smile. "Anyway, I just don't see how you could be over your parents' deaths so easily. Especially with how hard I've struggled."
"Well, I did have more time." She glared at him more earnestly.
"What? It's true."
"That's what everyone says, you know? 'Give it time.' or 'It'll hurt less as time goes on.' or my favorite: 'All wounds heal with time.' I've given it time. It's just not working."
He was glad they were off the subject of him, but he was in uncharted territory regarding her emotions.
"Maybe time isn't the answer." She looked at him. "What? He loved you and he's not coming back, time won't solve that." He said without any cruelty. "Just like my parents won't." Her lips quivered slightly, and he realized that this was the weakest that he had ever seen her.
"Time won't heal you, maybe. Maybe I had it easier because I never knew them."
"But your parents loved you!"
"I know that!" He almost snapped. He breathed. "It's abstract to me. I never got to sit on my father's lap or be kissed goodnight by mother. At least, not that I remember. So how could I miss it? It's just far more nebulous to me."
Daphne sniffled.
What is with this month?
"Daphne?"
"What do you think happens when you die, Harry?" Harry looked at her. Did she want his honest opinion, or some white lie? He realized she didn't know what she wanted him to say.
"I think when we die it's over for us, our souls don't appear to do anything more than fade away when they are outside of our bodies."
She nodded and cried. He muffled their area, reaching out to squeeze her hand. She looked up at him and they sat together for a long while.
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Tracey was ecstatic to find he and Daphne were talking again. She had a lot to get off her chest.
"You know that Daphne was all mopey waiting for you to come talk to her. I was worried that you wouldn't, but I managed to talk to Lisa and Hermione."
It was her!
"Of course, I heard about what Draco said to Hermione, and Nott is too terrified to go anywhere near you. I thought you beat him pretty thoroughly, but he seems to be seriously going over the top with it. Draco's just been avoiding you completely. He must have realized you might be furious about what he said to Hermione. What are you going to do to him when you catch him? Do you have a plan?"
Well, I can't try and lobotomize him with my mind. Dumbledore might not approve.
"Draco is Slytherin's seeker now, right?"
"Oh yeah, he totally bought his way on the team. They have a bunch of new Nimbus 2001s. Isn't Ravenclaw's first match against Slytherin this year? Do you have something planned? Are you going to knock him out of the air with your crazy wandless magic? You know everyone was talking about that, right? It was bloody amazing! You had Nott under your thumb, waving your hand and everything, and then you just took him out. Say, will you teach me some of your dueling spells?"
She was waiting for an answer this time.
He nodded. "Of course."
"Really? That's great! I wanted to learn the shield charm, and Daphne treid to teach me a little. Then she started throwing spells at me and I panicked, so it didn't work. She said it was how you taught her." Harry looked over at Daphne. She was pretending to study his cloak, but was actually just running her fingers through the fluid cloth and watching parts of her body turn invisible. He chuckled.
"Well that method won't work for you." He turned back towards Tracey. "Daphne's intent was all wrong, so she couldn't focus correctly." Daphne looked up at him with a huff.
"what do you mean I was 'unfocus-'"
"Right, let's see your shield charm first. Don't be aggravated with it if it doesn't come right away. Hermione's been trying to do it all year to compete with me, and she hasn't gotten it yet either. I suspect Daphne's talent with charms was the reason for her success."
"And you're Harry Potter, so of course you succeed." Tracey giggled.
"Naturally. Now let's see your charm."
"You're going to be a lot less thrilled when I beat your grade in charms this year, Harry." Daphne glowered at him.
Harry doubted that she would. He was already practicing several third-year charms, like carpe retractum and the cheering charm. His mastery over the disarming charm was also fairly impressive, but she didn't need to know any of that.
"I saw that look! You don't think I can, do you?"
"Why don't you practice your inanimate to animate transfiguration, Daphne? That way you can beat me in two classes."
He gestured at Tracey to show him her charm as she snorted. He read her mind as she performed it to measure her intent. She only generated wisps of yellow light.
"I know it's not the right color but-"
"-The color is fine, it's irrelevant."
Tracey giggled. "Daphne practiced for hours to get hers the same color as yours."
Daphne glared at her friend.
"She didn't have to; her shield was fine. Anyways, let's see your wand movement again."
Harry recommended an extra flicking motion with her wrist, his studies on spell creation had taught him that longer wand movements could help form more powerful spells because there was more time for the caster to focus their magic. The extra twist was to make her shield slightly smaller. She simply couldn't power a full body shield without more practice.
She tried again a few more times with Harry's encouragement, and formed a shield that was only a half meter by a half meter but was most definitely a shield. The yellowish quality had lightened somewhat, but it was still there.
"I did it! Thank you so much Harry! Wha-"
"How did you know those things would help?" Daphne stepped forward looking with interest.
He explained his theory and its basics from spell creation, and Daphne started to nod along.
"But I had the ability to form a bigger shield, and I'm not more magically powerful than Tracey is."
"It's true, our hexes usually land with the same power, we compare when we learned them and we had time this weekend. It's not an exact measurement but it's close isn't it?"
"You will be able to once you practice more. With consistent practice ,in a week or so, get rid of the extra flick and you'll be able to do it fine. Daphne was able to do it because she is talented in the field, Hermione won't manage it for some time longer, at least another month if I had to wager, because she wants to do it on her own, but she doesn't have the magical 'muscle memory' to make it happen."
Tracey frowned. "At least I'm a better potioneer than you, she told Daphne, who simply scoffed.
"I believe I came in right behind Harry last year."
"It's not my fault I got nervous! My hand was shaking!"
He let them settle into their argument.
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Daphne asked him several questions about how he would enchant the mirrors. He had been working on the project a little. He decided to change it slightly so that it worked by borrowing from the scrying ritual, except with the points connected. It was a more elegant method than passwords and several different charms tied to each mirror.
When October came, everything was interrupted. Filch's cat was petrified and the mysterious Chamber of Secrets had evidently been opened. Harry was the first suspect of the entire school, what with the way he scared away Colin and could speak parseltongue. It was obviously Harry despite, the fact he had a close muggleborn friend and that he had been at the feast along with everyone else.
Neville and Hermione suspected Malfoy, but Daphne and Tracey assured them that he was at the feast too.
"There's no way that moron is heir to one of the greatest sorcerers of his time!" Tracey explained in a strop when it came up. "He just wants everyone to think that he knows who did it. He has some stupid little package he keeps shaking. He said his father gave it to him, as a gift to the heir of Slytherin, but nobody buys it. Well, except his lackeys and his followers."
"Malfoy has followers?" Neville asked.
"His father has sycophants," Daphne elucidated. "Not quite the same."
Harry had been getting ready for the quidditch match on top of everything. He found he was getting better at juggling his friends, personal studies, schoolwork, and Quidditch. Lockhart was ever-eager to give Harry advice on being a seeker, but Harry avoided the man like the plague that he was.
Of course, when quidditch came around it was all up to him. His teammates would be constantly on the defensive and so Harry would have to try and score as soon as possible.
"It's all down to you Harry," Roger Davis told him with a lopsided smile. "No pressure."
When they kicked off Harry immediately flew up to find the snitch quickly. He squinted, searching the ground, stands and sky, and when Malfoy aimed to dart past Harry to show off the new broom, Harry dived at the same time. Malfoy's panic and their slight distance to the ground meant Malfoy was swerving to avoid hitting him. The manoeuvre almost put Malfoy in the ground.
"I'm going to burry you, Malfoy," he told the twat evenly. "Daddy can't save you here."
A bludger flew at Harry and he rolled backwards to avoid it, spinning neatly through the air. Instead of going after the nearest target, Malfoy, the thing changed direction until it pelted after him. Harry nearly swore and rolled again to dodge it.
He was getting the weirdest sense of déjà vu to a similar situation with a bewitched broom.
He snarled.
Harry put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the field. He could hear the Bludger whistling along behind him. What was going on? Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this; it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible, not to kill the seeker specifically.
He flew towards one of his beaters, who was gesturing at him to come her way, and the girl slammed the bludger. The bloody thing turned on a dime ten feet out, and surged straight back at Harry. Luckily, it couldn't change direction half as fast as Harry could and he found by zigging and zagging he was able to avoid it, if only just.
He twirled lightly to dodge it, but he misjudged its trajectory and it slammed into his arm.
Ouch.
His arm was most definitely broken.
He tried to move it to the other side of his chest to hold it there and almost passed out from the pain.
He refocused when the bludger came back towards his face and dived. There, next to Malfoy, was the snitch. The boy was too busy being delighted by Harry's suffering to notice Harry rolled towards Malfoy and put Malfoy between the bludger and himself. It smashed into Malfoy's torso and the boy fell twenty feet to the ground.
Harry pulled out of his dive, pursuing the golden ball, taking his hand off his broom to catch it. He lunged for it, diving forward. His fingers closed around the golden ball and its wings beat feebly in his hand, then Harry hit the earth hard and choked for air.
"We did it." He croaked softly to himself, gasping for breath.
I'm delirious.
Harry closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again there were people running towards him. He stood up, holding the thing, then noticed Lockhart was approaching him rapidly. He was a few paces ahead of Harry's friends.
That wasn't good. Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at his arm, focusing on the bone inside. How different could fixing and breaking a bone really be?
Likely, very.
"Oh, no, not you," he moaned, looking down; then Lockhart was on top of him.
"Doesn't know what he's saying," said Lockhart loudly. "He must be delirious."
Alright so Lockhart got that right. Monkeys and typewriters.
Not that it should have been difficult to guess.
-worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm."
"No!" said Harry. "I'll keep it like this, thanks..."
I suddenly rather like it this way.
He missed something being said. It sounded important. He tried to sit up, but the pain was terrible.
"Daphne? Hermione?" He crooned. "Literally anyone, get him away from me, won't you?"
Harry fell back in the mud, trying to roll over to get his arm out of the man's reach, but the man held him fast.
"Wait, sir, that's Madam Pomnfrey's job," someone said.
Merlin bless you.
"She's helping the boy with the broken ribs." Was another.
Heh, silver linings.
Harry saw Lockhart pull his wand and – he would later understand this was probably for the best – passed out in terror.
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"No, don't!" He sat up and almost passed out from dizziness.
Daphne jumped up next to him and Lisa made a frightened squeak.
He lay back down, eyes almost rolling in his head.
"Did Lockhart help me?"
None of the people by his bed said anything.
"That's a conspicuously loud silence."
"He er – he vanished the bones in your arm, Harry." Harry winced at Neville's prognosis.
"And Malfoy?"
"He had some broken ribs and fell along way but Madam Pomfrey can mend broken bones in a heartbeat. Madam Pomfrey let him out days ago."
Nice.
Someone laughed.
"Did I say that out loud?"
Hermione brought Madam Pomfrey in,
"Ah, you are awake Mr. Potter."
"Hello, Madam Pomfrey."
His peripheral vision was all wibbly.
"I can't feel my left arm," he informed them succinctly.
Why am I talking like this?
Someone giggled at that.
Oh good, they can hear my thoughts! Am I on something? Bloody hell, what did she give me?
"You're speaking out loud Mr. Potter and it's a mixture of Skelegrow and numbing potions."
"I still can't feel my left arm, isn't that a sign of a heart attack?" Harry reached over and felt his left arm with his right arm. He squeezed softly only to see the skin and muscles gave way under his fingers.
"Merlin," someone said. It might have been him.
Lisa stepped out in a hurry, and Tracey's face was rather green. Even Daphne turned away.
Skelegrow. She can grow this back, right?
"I can indeed Mr. Potter, but will take time, and it will be painful."
"I think I got that." He was still squeezing his boneless arm, morbidly fascinated, requiring someone to pull his hand away.
"I won the match then? Quidditch?"
A vague bushy blur seemed to nod.
Hail the conquering hero!
"Sorry Harry, we tried to stop Lockhart but he's a professor and..."
Harry attempted to stand up.
"Harry? Where are you going?"
He paused. "Where am I going? I don't know. Class? School?"
"What was in those potions, ma'am?"
"Don't stand there," Harry informed them confidently. "You'll fall."
"Give him more! Or less? He hasn't gotten the right amount yet, of whatever you're giving him!"
He was laying on his side now, and Madam Pomfrey swept in front of him to force something gloopy and disgusting down his throat.
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Hours and hours later, Harry woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness, and gave a small yelp of pain. His arm now felt full of large splinters.
Bones.
He found he couldn't move that arm. Movement might have somehow disrupted the growing process or something, so it was completely cast and immobilized. For a second, he thought that was what had woken him. He screwed up his bone regrowth! Then, with a thrill of horror, he realized that someone was sponging his forehead in the dark.
"Get off!" He looked. It was the elf!
The house-elf's goggling tennis ball eyes were peering at Harry through the darkness. A single tear was running down his long, pointed nose. "Harry Potter came back to school," he whispered miserably.
"Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah Sir, why didn't you heed Dobby? Why didn't Harry Potter go back home when he couldn't get on the platform?"
"That was you?" He pushed the elf off of him. He looked around for his wand.
Dobby mopped his bulging eyes and suddenly exclaimed, "Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his bludger would be enough to make -"
"Your bludger?" said Harry, anger rising higher. "What do you mean, your bludger? You made that bludger try and kill me?"
Not kill you, sir, never kill you!" said Dobby, shocked. "Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here, Sir! Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home!"
"You better get out of here before I find my wand and tear you in half."
"Dobby is used to death threats, Sir-"
"Harry doesn't care. You tried to kill me."
Turnabout is fair play.
"Dobby already told you he -"
"If that bludger hit my face it would have killed me almost instantly."
Dobby wailed in silence, wringing his floppy ears miserably, and Harry was almost disgusted to feel a stab of pity for the creature.
"Look, alright, if you're trying to save my life just tell the hHadmaster, or me, what you think is trying to kill me."
Dobby's eyes grew wide.
"I can't sir, I've been ordered not to."
"Is this about the Chamber of Secrets? Who opened it, Dobby?"
The still-sobbing creature vanished with a soft snap.
Dumbledore and several Professors came in not a moment later, carrying Colin Creevy. Harry learned from overhearing, that Dumbledore knew the chamber had indeed been opened, and he probably knew who did it too.
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When Harry was finally released he told his friends everything. He told them all about Dobby and Dumbledore's conversion over the petrified first-year.
"Hey guys, I know the chamber is important, but what did I say while I was drugged out?"
There was laughter all around at Harry's expense, and they assured him they were glad that he was safe; coincidentally side-stepping the question.
"You have a death wish, Harry." Daphne told him. "After you hurt Malfoy-"
Nice.
"-The slytherin team would have been forced to surrender. They wouldn't have a seeker and his broom was crushed. Madam Pomfrey would have healed you and you could have continued playing against some rubbish seeker."
"I also might have gotten my head taken off by the Bludger," he pointed out.
"You should have just surrendered!" Daphne almost through her arms up in exasperation.
"It was terrifying, the way you hit the ground." Neville told him. "You sort of… bounced."
There was good news, despite the fact that Slytherin's monster was loose, there would apparently be a dueling club. Harry wanted to practice his duelling, but also knew that he couldn't practice any of the actually useful spells that he had learned. He figured the puncturing curse might get him into some trouble.
"You're not coming to the dueling club?" Hermione was horror struck at the thought, "That's usually your kind of thing..."
"Who would duel me, Hermione?"
"I would!" She insisted. He gave her a nonplussed look.
"Can you do a shield charm?" Daphne asked Hermione.
"Of course I can!"
"When'd you do it?" Tracey asked.
"A week ago. Why?
"That's when Harry said you would figure it out." Tracey giggled.
Hermione sputtered indignantly.
"How could you have possibly known-"
"It was a guess based on your progress, Hermione. I saw you do it every day."
"When did you say that?"
"A month ago, when I taught Tracey to do the charm."
"You can do the charm?" Hermione turned to Tracey. "How?"
"I asked Harry." Hermione tugged on her hair at that.
She turned to Harry and glared at him. "How do you always do that? How are you always doing things like that with magic?"
"Hermione, when Harry isn't eating or playing Quidditch, he's practicing magic." Daphne informed her.
"Or studying magic," Neville added.
"Or finding out ways to study and practice magic," said Lisa nodding.
"Do you even sleep?" Neville asked.
"Madam Pomfrey did say you had a terrible sleep-wake cycle," Hermione mused.
"Lisa, you should get some of the Ravenclaw boys to watch him," Daphne tried.
"To watch him sleep?" Lisa asked almost laughing.
"No! To make sure he's sleeping." Daphne glared at him.
"Harry, when was the last time you slept for at least eight hours?" Hermione asked.
"Madam Pomfrey knocking you out doesn't count," Daphne clarified as he made to open his mouth.
He was brought up short at that, and hey were waiting for an answer from him.
"Why am I on trial here?"
"Weren't we talking about duelling?" Neville said, trying to shift the topic.
Attaboy Neville.
"Well, I would duel you," said Daphne. "You did mention you wanted practice."
What Harry really wanted was a pensive and a memory of Dumbledore's duel with Grindelwald, but Professor Flitwick's instruction might be the next best thing, even if he couldn't get Flitwick to show him anything.
Harry rubbed his jaw.
After some more 'convincing', they approached the crowded platforms set up for dueling in the Great Hall.
"So, you're going to join the dueling club?" Hermione asked him more excitedly.
"That depends. Is Flitwick teaching the dueling or is it-?"
Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes
of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Professor Snape, wearing
his usual black.
Harry immediately turned mid-step to walk right back out of the Hall, but was stopped by Daphne grabbing him by the back of his robes.
Harry watched Professor Snape's lips curl in a sneer at Lockhart's opening diatribe.
Do it.
Harry pleaded.
Blow him apart. I'll swear in court it was self-defense.
Harry cheered when Snape flung Lockhart against the far wall. Despite the incantation, Harry doubted that it was just a simple disarming spell. The man had put serious vitriol into the magic. Harry might have been the only non-Slytherin cheering.
Hermione elbowed him in the side.
"Hermione, I know you're a fan, but he vanished all the bones in my arm, and he pisses off every single other teacher."
Hermione frowned at him. "That doesn't give you the right to be rude."
Harry disagreed.
He ended up paired up with Ronald Weasley by Professor Snape. Weasley had a broken wand, and Harry chose to believe that Professor Snape was confident Harry would survive the imminent magical backlash, so paired him with Weasley over any other student. It was far more likely that Professor Snape hoped one of them would die.
Harry immediately shielded as soon as Lockhart counted down and hoped to weather whatever would happen. Ron Weasley was launched backwards by his own spell.
Seamus Finnigan then blew something up to Harry's right.
"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the Hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and quickly looked away. "Let's have a volunteer pair - Finnigan and Weasley, how about you-"
"-A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," Snape interjected smoothly. "Have you seen the state of Weasley's wand? And Finnigan causes devastation with the simplest of spells.
Harsh but true.
"How about Malfoy and… Potter."
I need to get Professor Snape something for Christmas.
"Excellent idea!" said Lockhart, gesturing Harry and Malfoy toward the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.
"Scared, Potter?" Malfoy snipped, looking a little pallid.
Harry smiled gently. "You look pale, Malfoy."
Lockhart attempted to demonstrate something but all he accomplished was dropping his wand.
Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Harry!"
Harry ignored the man.
Three, two, one, go!" he shouted. Malfoy raised his wand quickly and bellowed, "Tarantallegra!"
Harry shielded himself and gestured with his free hand, supplying force to Draco's stomach. The boy bent over gasping.
Harry smiled and waited for him to catch his breathe. Draco was panicking.
"Serpensortia!" The boy gasped.
Even as Harry read the other boy's mind he couldn't believe what the boy was about to do.
Harry blew the boy off the stage as the boy launched the spell.
"Don't move," he told the snake.
It landed amongst the onlookers.
"Did you forget?" He asked Malfoy.
Snape vanished the snake with a wave of his wand, before joining everybody in staring at Harry. He sighed. This was going to be one of those things.
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The next day, the school avoided Harry like the plague. The whole affair had been a grim reminder that he was a parselmouth, more than just a rumor. He must be the heir of Slytherin.
"You know it's creepy when you speak parseltongue." Hermione admirably tried to defend the harsh reaction. "You can't entirely fault them, given how rare the talent is. Plus, there's always been the rumors that you sneak around the castle at night. Which, you know, is true."
He groaned.
"But at least you guys know it can't be me."
"Of course we do, the chamber of secrets was opened fifty years ago, it couldn't be you." He looked at her. "What? It's in Hogwarts, A History."
"Hermione, you are the only person in the school who has read Hogwarts, A History."
"What? You haven't read it? I thought you-"
"There aren't any spells in that book Hermione. Why would I be interested?"
"Plus, you read books like- like that. Why wouldn't people think you're suspicious?"
"But I don't attack anyone."
"What about Malfoy?"
"In both our duels he consented, and Quidditch is a violent sport. I suppose I also got him for attacking Neville."
She frowned. "You have to admit that is a lot of violence, plus you attacked Nott."
"He tried to burn me, he summoned fire."
"People who bother you tend to get hurt. Colin was bothering you and now he's in the hospital wing."
"He hadn't bothered me since I told him off. I even fixed his camera for him."
She hmphed at him. He returned to his glamored guide to magical combat, Peace and Quiet. It introduced the concept of chaining spells together in duelling, based on the wand movements.
"Harry can you help me with something? You see there's a-"
"A spell you're working on?" He said at the same time as her.
"It's also unnerving when you do stuff like that, Harry. I want to summon a whip which lashes out and wraps itself around things. In a duel I could use it to tie up someone's legs or hands."
It took a lot for her to ask for his help.
"What wand movement were you using?"
She showed him.
"Why don't we try it outside the library?"
They went down to the room he had claimed. He was thinking about enchanting and warding it to make it a bit more personal, but couldn't imagine claiming a room as his own would sit well.
Though, what they don't know, can't bother them.
He just needed to find a way to make everyone else incapable of finding it. It was more than beyond him at the moment.
"My incantation is Flagelus."
"You're using an incantation?" She looked bewildered.
"Of course, didn't you?"
He shrugged. "I didn't need to, I already knew what I wanted." He gestured, and a desk slid into the middle of the floor. "Show me what you have so far."
A thick brown rope shot from her wand towards the desk's leg. It didn't wrap around the leg, or even stay connected to her wand.
He frowned. This would take some time.
They tried over thirty different wand movements before they left, but Harry suspected that the wand movement wasn't Hermione's problem. He didn't want to just come out and tell her that her intent was wrong though. The spell was fairly complicated, with several different parts happening in sequence. Rope was conjured, it met something, wrapped around it, then pulled tight.
Harry suspected that Hermione wasn't intending everything to happen at once when she cast the spell, but he wasn't going to come and flat out tell her that she was casting poorly when it took so much for her to ask for his help. How could he tell her she was performing her own spell wrong? He would sit down in the library with her and find a book on spell theory which argued his points for him.
She parted for the Gryffindor common room and he turned for Ravenclaw tower.
"Come . . . come to me. . . . Let me rip you. . . . Let me tear you. . . . Let me kill you. . . ."
He looked around, wand up. "Homenum revelio!" There was no feedback from the spell.
He climbed the stairs and came across something terrible. Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face. His eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling, and next to him was something even more horrifying. It was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half-off and his face wore an expression of shock identical to Justin's.
Peeves came along, making a racket, and people flooded into the corridor. Harry was worried someone would step on Justin and people kept standing in Sir Nicolas.
"Caught in the act!" Ernie yelled, his face stark white, pointing
his finger dramatically at Harry.
If I do not get expelled tonight, you have earned so many headaches.
"That will do, Mr. Macmillan!" said Professor McGonagall sharply.
"This way, Potter," she said.
"Professor," said Harry at once, "I swear I didn't —"
"This is out of my hands, Potter," she replied curtly.
She led him to the Headmaster's office.
"Treacle tart," caused the gargoyle to jumped aside this time, and there, at the bottom of the steps leading up to the Headmaster's office, was Trevor the Toad.
You couldn't have picked a worse place or time.
Professor McGonagall bade him to wait inside.
There was a strange gagging noise. Up on the pedestal – which had been empty last time he was here – was a mottled, chicken-like bird with dull-red plumage. It looked decrepit, making another gagging noise before abruptly bursting into flames.
A phoenix.
He stepped closer to watched it emerge from its ashes. It was still ugly, but it was tiny now. Pushing its way out and making a soft trilling noise.
"It's a shame you had to see him on a burning day," said Dumbledore, seating himself behind his desk. "He's really very handsome most of the time, wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have incredible healing properties, and they make highly faithful pets."
The way the Headmaster stressed his words was a little odd, and Harry knew better than to believe it was a simple pet. This was the headmaster's familiar. He looked at it. He found himself slightly jealous that the Headmaster was closely bonded with one of the most powerful magical creatures on the planet.
"Something on your mind, Harry?"
"It's a great familiar to have sir, you must be very proud."
"Oh?
Harry nodded. "A phoenix is very powerful, and they live such long lives. I've read they can also travel through most any wards."
Dumbledore nodded, smiling. "You are very well read then. Are you considering taking care of magical creatures next year?"
"I was considering it sir, but I am less interested in the care of the animals as I am with the study of their properties."
Dumbledore nodded, "like the legilimency a sphinx demonstrates, perhaps?"
"Yes sir, their natural talent caught my eye."
Dumbledore nodded. "Will you tell me what happened tonight Harry?"
"Would you like to see for yourself, Sir?" Harry asked.
"Kind of you, my lad." The man extracted a vial.
"Do you know how to retrieve a memory, Harry?"
Harry nodded. "Though, this will be the first time I attempt it, Sir."
Harry raised his wand to his temple and focused, slowly pulling the memory from his head before settled it in the vial.
"You don't want to view it, Sir?"
"Not at this moment." The Headmaster always found a way to put him off balance.
"Do you have anything you wish to ask, Harry?"
He did. He nodded. "Will you tell me who opened the chamber last time? Sir?"
"Former headmaster Dippet expelled one Rubius Hagrid for the crimes believed to be the work of the Heir of Slytherin."
There was a large pause.
"But who actually did it?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
"You will find that the head boy at the time, One Tom Marvolo Riddle received an award for special services to the school." Why could the man never give a straight answer?
"Is that all, Harry?"
"I'm worried about being a parselmouth sir. Every single extraordinary wizard I was able to find who possessed the ability were… well, they all possessed a certain lack of morals. Salazar Slytherin was likely the most moral of them and he was fairly bigoted, if the accounts of the time are accurate. Voldemort and Herpo the Foul were also both…" Harry imagined the man knew. Even if he didn't, one could certainly surmise from Herpo's suffix.
"No single talent is sufficient to drive any one wizard from doing what is right, Harry."
Harry paused. "What about multiple talents, sir?"
Dumbledore smiled softly. "I doubt any wizard who indeed felt anxious about where they might stand morally would questions things so thoroughly. Nor would they tell their Headmaster and Magical Guardian. I would, however, caution you to use your gifts sparingly, Harry, and to not abuse your peers."
Harry nodded. He considered asking Dumbledore for a copy of the memory of his famous duel. If the things Harry had read about the event were true, it was hardly acceptable material to give a twelve-year-old, regardless of the books said twelve-year-old frequented. Wizards had been simultaneously boiled, crushed, frozen and exploded, simply for standing too close. Harry even read one account that said all four deadly effects had been suffered by one particularly unfortunate wizard standing near Grindelwald.
"If that is all Harry, I would ask if there is anything you wish to tell me."
Harry thought about it. He had been pretty open with the man, though he kept the vision in the Mirror of Erised to himself. And it was that, he told himself, a vision, not a lie. It would happen.
Harry finally shook his head, knowing full well the silence between the headmaster's question and his response might seem incredibly suspicious. He chose to believe that Dumbledore would understand. "No, sir."
When he returned to Ravenclaw tower. He found nearly half the Ravenclaws there waiting with bated breath. He stepped past them inside.
Lisa was there, and he smiled. "Harry are you…?"
"The Headmaster never believed it was me." Harry said confidently. He stepped through them towards her to sit down, ignoring the stares around him.
Anthony Goldstein took a step back.
Muggleborn
Harry surmised as much from the boy's mind.
"I do have an alibi." He said a little louder than strictly necessary. "I was studying with Hermione."
Someone spoke up. "You weren't in the library."
Harry turned towards Cho Chang.
"I was helping her with a spell."
This isn't working.
Harry shook his head.
"I'll see you later Lisa, I think I'll turn in for the night."
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"A wizard could trust you because of the hellish future he could unleash on you if his trust was betrayed." - Terry Pratchett
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Here we are, at Christmas again. Some Luna Lovegood was teased but hasn't entered yet. I suppose I need to come up with thoughtful gifts and what not. Or I could skip over it. You could believe that Harry is capable of giving thoughtful gifts.
We're about halfway through the second year which is right where we need to be so that's good.
Here's the scoop. I won't be updating until finals are over at the earliest. For me that's 12/14/17. So don't expect an update until after that.
Because I like to discuss stuff I created a Forum for this story. You can ask me questions there.
-WG
Edited 1/31/17