Beta: Digitize27
This time I control F-ed through the page looking for instances of me or I. I really think I got them all.
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"He who strikes terror into other is himself in continual fear" - Claudian
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"-Madame Flamel awards him nine points." Badinter announced grandly. "And with that, Mr. Potter has been awarded by our judges a total of forty-six points. However, since, he slayed the beast, he is awarded an extra twenty points, bringing him into first place with sixty-six points!" His eyes gleamed. "Give it up for Mr. Potter!"
The crowd roared and their emotions surged, fluid, into Harry's mind. Harry capped them before they could overwhelm him, even as the force of it rocked him on his feet. His will was still greater and Harry held himself against the tide. This legilimency - practically empathy - worked a little on the large end of scale and the small end of result. It was wider than it was deep, but it was still as dangerous. Harry was willing as much magic as he dared towards the crowd in order to use their emotion as spells, more than he ever had for any individual in his life.
But he was still stronger and held the levies. Preventing the foreign emotions from overcoming him in a rush was a challenge but not one he wasn't prepared for.
Harry quickly withdrew into himself, feeling mind numbing exhaustion now that he was alone with his thoughts. The amount of will and focus he could manage was very low, leaving him just this side of conscious. Harry swayed and nearly collapsed on his feet, the will and power crafted around him faltering. He held his wand tight at his side. Using the collected energies which surrounded the focus, Harry did just that: focused.
It would be easy enough to grow addicted to that. The rush of power which came when Harry reached for the world and the world reached back was intense and when Harry channeled already existing powers to the exclusion of his own it was dangerous and not just from the mental side.
Holding that much power within himself was just dangerous because he couldn't control that much on his own. Reaching beyond his limits was like exercising any muscle beyond its capacity, there was a chance of injury. Except here it would be less tearing and more combusting.
He could do that with emotional energies now. Adding his own twist to Dumbledore's special brew. Harry was powerful enough to draw on the emotions of his enemies as a point for power, even as he affected the emotions in question.
He could paralyze his enemies with a look.
He could drive his opponents mad and use their own madness to fund his own energy supply.
He wasn't something your average wizard was ready for.
Certainly not his supposed competition, standing beneath him. The Veela's hair was bedraggled and Krum looked decidedly singed. They weren't good enough to stand at his level. They deserved to be beneath him.
How many wizards had developed such a skill in all of history? It was an ability as legendary as any of the ancient Hindu Gods' with more practice.
The Apauruseya chose to manipulate matter, Harry chose to manipulate minds, and everyone knows how that little idiom goes.
He knew his limits though, or thought he did. Harry was surrounded by men and women who had dedicated their lives to mastering their craft. Harry couldn't be foolish and show off everything he learned. Harrycould scare them though. Give them a taste of when he...
Did nothing.
Harry wasn't out to hurt anyone. He wanted nothing more than to study magic. That was the source of his power.
The intrusive cruel thoughts… they were a part of him but they didn't have to be. Harry has the power to choose - or perhaps the illusion of choice - and he chose to believe those thoughts came from beyond him.
He wanted to tell Dumbledore the truth sometimes, so that he might help, but then Harry remembered how he kept the truth about his connection to Voldemort a secret and just couldn't bring himself to trust the headmaster. Which was feeding into his misgivings because Harry wanted to trust him.
When he had gained enough strength Harry reached out and touched Daphne's mind even as he shook hands with people and was showered by congratulations. Her mind was filled with- fear? He thought-
He dove for her mind a little more and watched the memory unfold.
[Malachite stood opposite me, arms crossed.]
His talents allowed him to think faster than the average person. Augmenting his mind with Augeomancy allowed him to process that Malachite cornered a person who was… important to me? A person who he cared for and who cared for him. The only person, really.
Daphne is a lot to me.
He abruptly found himself shoved out of the memory and back into his own mind. Daphne had never done that before. Not even during practice.
Harry stumbled where he stood, mindlessly making his way out of the field and around the pitch to where he had seen and known Malachite to be from the memory. If Malachite thought she could get at Harry by threatening Daphne, then she could join her fucking daughter.
Harry thought furiously.
He collected himself and ran, pushing people aside. Daphne's life could well depend on it, and they meant nothing to him. Harry swept around and took in the view. A lightning spell on his lips as he rounded the corner.
Daphne was there staggering. Blonde hair ruffled, blue eyes shining. Her body looked strained as she leaned against the wood that made up the walls of the pitch but she looked unhurt, thank Merlin.
His fury didn't abate in the slightest. "Where is that bitch?!" His eyes swept the area in a moment, not detecting Malachite even with his ability to sense people, but that was something she already showed herself able to avoid- he assumed through her shape shifting. He looked at the base of the staircase Harry had been standing at in Daphne's memory.
"Harry." Daphne wheezed. "Nothing happened. I swear." She sounded afraid.
How dare she.
"Where is she, I'll put her in a coma!"
Through his power he felt the pang of fear and looked around. The emotion drove him forward and he manipulated the air causing Daphne stumbled towards him. He caught her in his arms and put her behind him. One arm still around her as he took it in the sight, expanding out with his senses.
He could feel himself shaking from fear or anger. There was power in that. Enough for him to forget his exhaustion and pull heat and light from the world around him. He would protect her.
A more rational side of him pointed out that Daphne couldn't possibly be worried about Malachite hurting her in this public area. Not with the rest of the crowd hot on Daphne's heels, coming down the stairs There's no reason Daphne should be afraid.
Except… of me… or for me.
Everything clicked into place. Harry whipped around. "Daphne it's alright. I believe you." He tried to say. Harry was so exhausted and running on fumes that it didn't come out quite right. The emotions drained from him and with it went the energy.
She must have been terrified that he would be angry. He needed to make her understand. He wrapped her up in both arms and could smell the shampoo she used like honey in nose. She reached out and put her arms on his shoulders.
He was had survived the monster, triumphed even. She was okay too. Malachite hadn't hurt her, just scared her. He had scared her too. She was fine. She would be okay.
"It's okay," Harry whispered right into her hair. "I trust you."
She shivered in his arms.
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The ghost of Daphne's arms left haunted surfaces across his shoulders all that night. Where his clothes touched those places,Harryburned. So it was understandable that it was hard to sleep.
He was up thumbing through his things as quietly as he could, so as to not wake his train-car-mates. He felt little warmth and wasn't sure if it was from within him that the cold came or without. He didn't care either way. He wasn't scared of his own power, not any more. Today, Harry had proved himself in a true gauntlet; as a true and exceptional wizard. He felt more alive than ever.
He gazed across neatly stacked books and his enchanted belongings. Books Harry had collected and borrowed amongst the items he had made, like his pensieve and mirror.
Harry had taken Grindelwald at his word and read about the brain, so he had some books on that. Harry was trying to figure out what it was physically that he hanged when he touched the mind of someone else. Harry had several theories, yet each made what he attempted so effortlessly look staggeringly impossible.
He cautioned himself. Was he really so arrogant as to think he was an expert in the field? There were those that spent years studying the mind arts. Especially in light of what he had done to Malachite's daughter, Harry had redoubled his attempts to learn more and more about the esoteric skill.
It was complicated to say the least but I'd-
His train of thought was interrupted by a soft vibration. He reached out and grabbed the mirror he had enchanted, sitting cross-legged on the floor with open books splayed out in front of him.
It was Lisa, and she didn't look happy.
"Well what do you have to say for yourself?" Her bright face demanded through the looking glass.
"About the Tarasque?"Harry clarified.
"No." She helpfully clarified with an unhelpful eye roll. "The Quidditch Pitch. Of course I mean the Tarasque."
"It was I or it."Harry responded, and it was true. If he hadn't killed the Tarasque before it set the whole pitch on fire, it would have killed him.
"But you didn't have to enjoy it."
"I didn't enjoy killing it,"Harry denied, though, that cruel part of him did, at least to some degree, but the rest of him wasn't happy it had died as much as gleeful that he was triumphant. So he told her the truth to some degree.
"Here you are, right here in the papers grinning about it?" Lisa held a paper up to the mirror.
"I was smiling because I was alive, not because it was dead," Harry affirmed. "Or do you not see the distinction. I'm sorry it's dead Lisa. Truly I am, but it was going to die anyway and I wasn't."
She looked frustrated but there didn't seem to be anything she could say to that. "I just…" She trailed off. She closed the mirror connection.
That was fine. Harry had Daphne. Even if all of the others abandoned him he'd still have her. So long as Lisa doesn't actually turn on him like Hermione did, Harry would be fine.
But if both of them did…
He ignored the intrusive thought. He would find a way to get back at Hermione. She had, after all, dragged Sirius Black into his life. She could do worse him if she wasn't stopped.
But the fact of the matter about Lisa was right. A cruel part of him had enjoyed what happened. A sicker part of him wondered if that was where he drew power from.
After all if something was different about him that let him draw upon magic differently, couldn't that be it? Whatever the case, it didn't feel like coincidence that he was both mentally different, and magically different.
Harry wondered if in Dumbledore there was a cruel part too.
He assumed that there was.
He was pretty sure he knew what it was too.
He reached out with a flex of will. A quill charmed to an inkwell and a particular piece of parchment from the box Daphne gave him.
These three items from your story, what do you and Dumbledore have to do with them?
There was no call from Luna this time.
He knew what he wanted.
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Susan met with him behind the train car early that next morning. Harry noticed that this time they had an audience. Malachite's man came to watch him play with magic. Harry knew it was him by the distant grating of his presence against his mind.
Next was his Hogwarts year. Ernie, Su Li, Michael, and Daphne. But there was also Astoria and another girl from Astoria's year with her.
Daphne brought him toast from the cafeteria which Harry chewed on as he began to think of what to teach Susan.
"Will you go talk to them." He whispered to Daphne. She gave him a nod and walked towards his year-mates.
He could see them all. Not with his eyes, but with his mind. With his magic.
"We'll work on redirecting spells,"Harry told Susan quietly. "If that's alright with you?"
There was a pause where she said nothing until she realized Harry was actually asking if it was alright with her.
"That's fine," she rushed out, intimidated by his presence. Harry could see the mark he'd left upon her mind clear as day. Not with his Legilimency, but by learning from him, being around him.
"Redirecting spells is easy, if you know the spell being cast and it can be blocked. Dodging is almost always a better option."
"So what if you don't know the spell being cast?" She asked.
"You can risk a deflection,"Harry answered. "But without knowing the properties of a spell it can backfire fast. Ideally a person casts the shield charm simultaneously with the intent to redirect, offering a bit of protection. The intent to defend and the intent to deflect are fairly similar so most people can get by with it."
"Is that what you do?" She asked.
In a real duel Harry had quite a few tools to bring to bear. It would take the rare Occlumens to surprise him with a spell. So long as Harry had eye contact he could bring out some fight ending weapons really fast.
He could stop someone or predict their every move like he was seeing the future. He could unmake their plans and engage in a multifront conflict on his terms.
He was the exception, though.
"When I do feel like redirecting."Harry nodded. "I'll show you how it's done. Cast a stinging hex at me, then practice with the shield charm and the intent to deflect."
Her eyes flicked to the side and Harry could tell there was something about the idea she didn't like.
Oh, that's right. People are afraid of me.
"Michael,"Harry said without turning around. "Can you cast a shield charm."
Harry felt him run a hand through his hair with the air currents around him.
"Not very well."
"Would you like to?" Harry asked turning around.
He smiled gently at his peers in his best approximation of Dumbledore's grandfatherly, kind smile.
He recalled what he'd had told Tracy about basic techniques of the shield charm second year. He went down the line and helped every single one of them until they could cast it. When he compared redirecting spells to transfiguration, no one questioned his wisdom. When he recommended that Su practice with an extra flick of her wand as he had told Tracy years ago, she accepted it wholeheartedly. They trusted his wisdom in regards to magic.
Magic governed their lives, thus, they came to Harry.
He brought the lecture around and accepted an apple from Daphne, deciding to make his way to the room he'd taken up in the library. Daphne following close at his heels.
She stuck around with him for a few hours before something or other took her attention. Harry assumed it had something to do with his presentation yesterday or this morning.
It was then when Harry was alone that it happened. Dumbledore came to find him. "Harry. I had rather hoped not to see Grindelwald's spells. I am unsure where you even saw those spells."
Harry looked at him like he didn't know, like Harry didn't know that in his possession was the famed elder wand, like he didn't know that he, himself possessed the cloak of death. That's why Dumbledore trusted it to hold against Malachite. That was why Dumbledore had it when his family died. But because of Grindelwald Harry knew. Grindelwald had been very thorough. It was his life's work to rival Dumbledore. To stop now would have grated the former Dark Lord.
Harry knew all that.
He also knew what answers would sway Dumbledore. "The space spell I used was his, but I think we can both agree I modified it."
"That we can." Dumbledore took a seat in the table. Harry could almost hear the professor's thoughts; his occlumency game was off, or perhaps Harry was just stronger now than before. Instead he made do with reading Dumbledore's emotions, which served as close echoes to his thoughts that Harry could feel wafting off of the headmaster. Concern, worry, and a little bit of genuine fear. "But that's hardly the point and I think we can both also agree on that. It's a dangerous path you are leaning towards."
Harry knew what Dumbledore saw. A prodigy gaining a following and power. A prodigy he'd seen before in Tom. But Harry also knew Dumbledore saw himself in him. He too had to know that he had no small following.
"We both know it's not that simple. All his spells were modified, elegant, and to save my life." Harry put the ball in the headmaster's court. "Or do we finally disagree?"
"Harry, I believe Grindelwald is a poor role model for you. On that we disagree." Dumbledore gazed into Harry's eyes, his own glimmering.
"Am I to think that I should never use a space-based spell? Like apparition?" Harry countered. "We agree that Grindelwald is a poor role model… ethically. Magically he's fantastic. I've been reading about Nurmengard, because it's only rivaled by Hogwarts in terms of wards," Harry finished. Let's see him beat that.
Except evidently he could. "The man begets the magic. Unless you can truly see past it, his magic will haunt you. Not to mention Malachite or others could recognize the same thing I had."
Harry was forced to concede his first and second points.
"She'll recognize it as a generic space rending spell. She couldn't possibly recognize that they were the same spell except modified. Besides, it's unlikely anyone will recognize Grindelwald's spells as readily as you can."
"True." Dumbledore gave Harry a point. "But then why did she leave campus afterwards?"
"What?" Dumbledore had caught him and Harry had to give the point right back.
"Yes," Dumbledore nodded finding purchase. "She left promptly after your show yesterday. Your actions have consequences Harry."
He had to concede. It was hard to deal with, given the extent Harry had betrayed Dumbledore's trust even as he sought to keep him safe. Even now Harry planned to meet with the headmaster's chief rival in the prison he himself had put said rival in.
The Dark Lord's desire to meet with him in person at his prison was all the more possible with the cloak in his book-bag. Harry still hungered for Grindelwald's private collection. Two of Dumbledore's spells had catapulted his power. A hundred of Grindelwald's…well, Harry could do a great deal with all that.
Before all of that was this tournament. This first task could have killed him and while the first task most likely kills the most people, that ironically doesn't necessarily make it the most dangerous. Simply by going first, the first task boasted the highest mortality rates of the tournaments Harry had looked at in the past. Still, Harry felt accomplished with what he had done.
Dumbledore couldn't take that from him.
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Dumbledore left and someone else swiftly took his place.
"Harry, can we talk?" It was Daphne sneaking up on him in the library. "You-uh- you haven't uh-"
"Been in your mind?" Harry waved a hand and a seat pulled out at the table he was at. She gave a tentative nod as she sat. "I don't think it's such a good idea for him to be in your mind."
"Harry, I don-"
"It's not because you talked to Malachite." Harry affirmed. Giving her an honest smile. "I'm-"
"Don't you even care?!" She snapped. "Every day I worry you'll toss me aside like you did Hermione and-"
"You need me," Harry finished. He knew she had plans. Plans she couldn't do without him so they were something he'd be involved in, but if it was for her, Harry could bring himself to care. He could bring himself to involve himself. He'd do a lot if Daphne asked. "I need you too, Daphne. It's okay. I told you I wanted to take you to the house I grew up in, didn't I? Dumbledore would think it's not wise but I'll do it with you."
"You still mean that?" Her eyes were shining and she wasn't looking at him. She wiped her face. Her outbursts had left her face red and her eyes bulging with contained tears. She was an ugly crier.
She didn't have to ask, though.
"Daphne I'm worried about the effect I'm having on your mind." Harry breathed in. "But that doesn't make us any less of friends. I actually wanted to ask for your help."
Her eyes widened slightly and she flicked her blonde hair back. "You want my help?" She couldn't hide her excitement. "What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to touch some stuff in my childhood house." Harry told her honestly. "I want to know how they died and I want to know if Pettigrew really did it."
"Of course I'll help you, Harry." She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. "When are we leaving?"
"Whenever you want." Her crystal blue eyes narrowed.
"Then about this morning...?" She trailed off. "You're trying to get followers."
He shrugged. "You recommended I gain a following."
"I asked if you were building followers."
"Isn't that what I said?"
"Not quite," she corrected; which Harry accepted without complaint.
"You already have a base. Just leave that to me." Harry could do that.
"I'm going to need it." If Harry was correct about how magic worked in general, then gaining followers would increase his power. Them placing him above them metaphorically would in turn place him above them literally.
"Then we can get it," she agreed. She was worrying her lip at me. "What made you change your mind?"
Perspective.
"I realized what I should do to make my dreams come true," Harry replied honestly. "Gaining followers and more powerful followers would make me more powerful. In a literal and magical way." Harry paused, but already felt confident of her answer. "Will you help me?"
"Of course." She gave a slightly sassy smirk. Lips forming a graceful line. "So about leaving when I wanted…"
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A girl in the street dropped her jaw at his appearance. Harry looked at her and saw her burying a cat, over five years ago. He cast his eyes away from the muggle as she stood to leave in order to tell someone what she'd seen.
Harry could well imagine how the ministry and Dumbledore would react to find out he was here. Which wasn't good to say the least in their respective ways.
If Dumbledore found out Harry was here, then he would be… disappointed, to say the least. So Harry really didn't want him to find out.
He would say it was a trap to come back here, and the truth was he could be right.
Harry didn't so much as look at the girl as she turned down the street and plucked the memory from her mind. He had no reason to get eye contact with a muggle. She immediately stopped running and cocked her head.
An intrusive thought wormed into his mind of a day five years ago where Harry stared at the creepy kid at school in his-her early youth.
He pushed it out and reestablished the clear boundaries between her and his own mind, crafting for her a quick compulsion to leave before moving on, pulling Daphne with him.
This was the plan. She goes in, touches some stuff and finds out how Pettigrew found and murdered his last remaining relatives, while he erased the memories of anyone they came across, then they went back to school for dinner.
He would find out what happened to his dead relatives and together they would approach stopping Voldemort from using mind magic on him again and or trying to kill him. While Harry also handled Malachite, breaking into Nurmengard, and the imminent threat on his life enforced by a magical goblet.
He was really struggling to deal with all that while trying to figure out who could and would betray him from his former and current friends.
He waved his hand and with a flex od will the door clicked open. A simple charm was all that was necessary to unlock the unenchanted entrance.
He held his breath, ignoring the feelings pressing into his experiencing as he raced into the not-quite-familiar building. It set his teeth on edge.
"Are you alright Harry?" Daphne asked. Harry finally exhaled.
"I'm fine,"Harry lied, feeling stressed by being in the current environment but obviously he couldn't tell her that even though he had invited her and her questions. It wasn't really a lie though, because she knew he was lying.
"Please just, let me see what you find?"Harry pleaded.
She tapped her temple. "You mean…?"
Harry nodded, clearing his thoughts as he leaned against the wall.
"Hello, is anyone there?" Harry heard from the bedroom above. A young man reached the top of the stares and looked down at him.
Harry met his eyes.
He turned around and went to lay down in Dudley's old room. One of Dudley's old rooms.
The man's housemates wouldn't be back for a while. They were a group of bachelors who were taking advantage of how low the renting cost was due to the murders, of course. Harry resolved to not worry about the group.
"Daphne, I have a lot I want to tell you," Harry said as she reached towards the cupboard handle. She made her decision of what to touch first well. An object with a lot of history of interactions was probably more dangerous but also had a deeper amount of information.
He was beginning to see a correlation between danger and knowledge in terms of magic. Not just for Daphne, but for him too. From Grindelwald to his own psychic powers this ranged true. The more minds Harry touched the more minds touched him back and became a part of a growing outside influence.
And for Luna too. She too receives the pure unalterable truth in exchange for the rape of her mind.
Which was more than concerning when put like that.
"Harry… What happened here?" She was looking at him next to that fucking cupboard. "Did… did they… did they hurt you here?"
Harry nodded at her.
"Oh, Harry."
"Stop please,"Harry begged. He caught himself rubbing his chin and relaxed his arm. "Just… let me know what you find out about how they died."
She nodded. "But will we… um…."
"We'll talk later," Harry promised. "Sure."
"Okay," she thanked him.
She traced a hand along the wall gently, wary of touching anything unexpected. Her eyes set themselves in a thousand-yard stare. "It was fast. Over, that is. Your cousin." She seemed to snap back here for a moment. She gave her head a quick shake, but when she opened her eyes again; she was gone. "I'll give you the memory later or you could go inside my head." She paused one more.
The knowledge must have taken a toll. She sounded exhausted as she swept along the stairs. Going up.
"I've seen the whole thing," she whispered. Her voice sounded… airy as she gently rested a hand on the stair handrail.
To be honest she sounded frightfully like Luna did. Over stimulated and drunk on knowledge. "We can leave now but this, Harry… the whole house. It's not like Hogwarts which has so much history I can't decipher much of it, here I can make and take whole memories. I've never tried this before. Searching for a certain point in time. It's...different." She began to babble and Harry grew concerned, his heart rate increased as Harry listened to her maddened tone. Her mood having flipped on the proverbial galleon.
It made him wonder less about what she had seen and more about what she had felt as she searched for the most brutal part of the house's history. It probably was not very pleasant.
He felt guilty. Harry had known these dangers and asked anyway but he trusted her to be strong. Harry had felt her legilimency defense when she accidentally repelled him yesterday and Harry knew she could take it, but that didn't mean Harry had to like it.
Besides they would talk later.
"Then let's go."
She nodded, making her way down the stairs and towards the door. She was very careful in not touching the banister or the walls. Her shoulders raised as though she was being compressed. It just made him feel guiltier watching her walk out almost shaking.
"I'm sorry an-"
"Harry," she interrupted, voice tense like a wire.
"-and thank you,"Harry mustered out over her as he stepped behind her outwards.
"Harry," she said louder and more urgently. Harry looked at her worriedly. Had the house affected her that badly?
His gaze swept the street following the direction of her stare.
There was a man there. Just standing in the street. He wore a set of dark robes, tarnished by use. He had a handsome face with well-trimmed hair, but he had a mad glint in his eyes that made Harry pause from looking into him.
"The Boy Who Lived," the man whispered. "Finally."
"Daphne get behind me." Harry stepped in front of her and out onto the former Dursley's driveway. Harry felt her step back into the house through the air.
He felt the anti-apparition ward the man had settled over the area. He had laid it with time and Harry hadn't noticed as he'd walked in. Anti-portkey too. Harry cursed himself. He should have noticed those, noticed him.
Didn't pay enough attention. I didn't think; and now Dumbledore had been right, it was a trap.
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Next is 'The Fool II'
-WG