This chapter is long, sorry, blame KrisB-71854. This chapter was inspired by you mate. Keep it coming. Enjoy.
xXxXx
Book I :: Chapter 9 :: M.U.K. - 137
Harry awoke feeling lighter than he had felt in months. His body ached, but not the 'I just got the snot beaten out of me' kind of ache; it was more 'I just got a five-star massage' kind of ache.
Closing his eyes Harry felt the warmth of his magic. It was stirring within him in a smooth circular motion, tranquil and powerful it carried a weight like that of an unforgiving deep ocean. It felt like it was capable of crushing boulders under its weight, yet in contrast to its fury, felt complete calm upon the surface. Delving deeper into the sensation it felt invigorating, powerful, and vast.
This unfortunately left Harry in a state of varying confusion. First why did he somehow feeling better than he ever felt before and secondly, why was he in the hospital wing again?
Staring at the window the nocturnal greeting of luna met his gaze. His limbs were weak from lack of movement and although felt fresh also felt like lead. Whatever happened to him, land him there and whatever then was clearly happened some time ago. As he laid there wondering why he was there, he tried backtracking from what he did remember. God his head throbbed.
He recalled leaving the Hospital Wing after charms, walked around, and heading to the feast, a professor ran in and shouted-
And like that it all came back.
It was sudden; All the images of Halloween returned with unforgiving clarity and force to him. Harry remembered the Troll attacking Hermione and his body tensed. Realization forcing his clearly strained and opposing body upwards, wrenching itself and himself up from the bed.
His forward momentum was however halted by the firm elderly hand of the hall's proprietor. That firm hand shoved him back down, stilling his instincts both with its gentle touch and firm confidence.
Turning, Harry's eyes greeted the residential owner, Madam Pomfrey. She stared at him both disapprovingly and happily. It was both comforting and worrying at the same time.
"I see you are awake Mr. Potter." Her smile firmly present.
"Stay still." She ordered leaving no room to argue. Waving her wand about, Harry forced himself to calm down. Madam Pomfrey was here, both calm and collected. If Hermione was injured, then she would have been her focus instead of him.
On the other hand, if she was hurt, then she'd likely have been so hurt she'd need to be sent away to Saint Mungo's or worse into a casket. That sobering thought hurt more than he expected, like enduring seppuku all over again. In either case, there was nothing Harry could do to help Hermione.
"I distinctly remember telling you not to use magic until after you returned to see me. You walk out and tackle a Mountain Troll. Good grief. That's the last time I leave you unsupervised again." She said as her wand every now and again prodding him. A knowing, pessimistic smile down on him gently.
"I'll make curtain of that." She commented confidently, silently promising she'd be quite strict with him in the future. "Care to explain why you disobeyed my instructions?"
Slightly irritated at the incessant poking of her wand Harry sarcastically joked unwisely, "Well I wanted an excuse to come see our beautiful and talented nurse in action. I was out cold last time and I must say the rumors don't do you justice. The incessant probing is certainly to die for."
His reward was a particularly sharp jab to his rib cage that caused him to buck over in pain. Rubbing it Harry swore he saw a slight blush on the head nurse's face behind her exasperated expression. Harry wasn't sure if it was from his comment, a memory, or even if she was actually flustered.
"As much as I enjoy my work and receiving such praise Mr. Potter," she informed him ruly, "I must ask that you not go out of your way to see me by injuring yourself deliberately."
Harry mirthlessly retorted, "Then please don't ask why when you already know."
He was rewarded with another jab of her wand. "Such a mouth. Just like your father I suppose. He also thought himself a lady's man. Next time you tell me how to do my job Mr. Potter I'll leave you to suffer painfully."
"Like he wasn't already," Harry thought to himself rubbing his side. With no shortage of cheek Harry unwisely countered, "You wouldn't do that, you like me too much to leave me hanging."
His response was a gruff sigh from Madam Pomfrey, "Just like your father. For now, leave the cheek alone while I take care of you." Harry nodded as he laid back, his body now elevated by an assortment of pillows curtesy of Pomfrey's wand.
Harry smiled as he felt this. The women could be vexed six days till Sunday and she'd still prioritize the wellbeing of her patience.
As he relaxed Harry looked around and not seeing Hermione in one of the other beds let out collected sigh of relief. That was either a really good sign or a really bad one. While he was haunted by the possibility of the latter, the former brought him some ease. Something that Pomfrey herself seemed to have noticed too if her words were any indication.
"Yes, thankfully Ms. Granger's condition was less significant than yours. She stayed no longer than an hour under observation just to be safe. A simple head wound. She is well and fine, and you will be glad to know, not a patient at this time."
Harry visibly relaxed. He himself was unaware of how tense her condition was making him.
"You on the other hand," she snorted, "could have ended up far worse. Thankfully your outburst of magic and subsequent unleashing of your Obscurus has expunged your excess magic."
"Say what now?" Harry did a doubletake. Unleashing of his Obscurus, did he hear that right?
"Yes, Mr. Potter. Thankfully no one was… critically hurt." she said, giving him a firm eye indicating his current condition.
"Thankfully no one else with the exception of Ms. Granger saw your obscurus."
Pomfrey proceeded to explain to him the events of that hollow's eve and the events witness by the Professors upon their arrival.
It at first left a gaping hole in the story of the time from the time he blacked out to the point when the Troll was beaten. This hole was filled in based on the witness testimony of Hermione. She explained how she wasn't sure what happened but went to great lengths describing how Harry saved her, even when he transformed into that weird black mist.
Harry fell into thought at that. Aside from being shell-shocked, at first, Hermione apparently wasn't turned off or away from him because of what he was or more accurately possessed.
In all likely hood if he had to guess, she was likely in the library looking up what exactly his transformation was in a bid to either help or make a decision. Even more likely than that, Dumbledore would have already stepped in to contain that tidbit of information from spreading. Harry could easily see him informing her of the basic points of information while hiding the darker details. If he thought that would stem her curiosity, he clearly didn't know her very well.
With Hermione safety firmly recognized in his mind he recalled something Pomfrey had mentioned previously. Harry looked at her bewildered. "Excess Magic?"
Madam Pomfrey looked at him with a look that showed she expected him to be interested in that piece of information.
"Yes Mr. Potter. Magic build up as it's more commonly called. It's when magic builds within a witch or wizard as they go about living in life, usually under stress."
Taking a seat on the bed next to him, for the first time Harry saw the nurse take on a new profession, not one of medicine, but that of a professor, an educator.
"Did you know Mr. Potter, that magic growth is most prevalent during the ages of eleven and sixteen." She asked. Harry shook his head, this was the first he had heard of this.
Nodding she continued, "During puberty, magic growth is strongest during this time. It grows in tandem along with a witch of wizard's body. Magic grows throughout a wizard's life, but growth is most prevalent during this period of seven years."
"In many circles there is a vast debate within the medical field on if magic is more like a muscle within the body, or more similar to that of um… oh what do the muggles call them… bad-dairy, I think. Yes, yes I think that's what it was called."
She eyed him carefully making sure he was still listening. Naturally Harry was not like most witches or wizards his age. Harry hung on to every word which pleased the witch.
"Regardless of which it is, it has been proven that magic reacts in similar ways to both. Sometimes growing, other times storing. During puberty magic is most receptive to the witch or wizards' body and the trials you face as you grow. As a result when you expect something to happen, usually something stressful, say an exam, your magic will sometimes gather and be stored away like a muggle bad-dairy to be called upon later. In other cases, such as repeated exercise or use, similarly to a muscle, your magic will be used up creating a vacuum that your body will quickly try to fill up thus putting stress on your magic, increasing it. For now, remember that magic is gathered in order to prepare for and responded to an outside stimulus.
Harry had to hold back his laughter, he wasn't sure if he should interrupt her to inform and correct her that it was called a battery, not bad-dairy. He didn't get the chance to anyway as the air around them became more serious. With a flick of her wand the privacy curtains for his bead rolled around them, isolating them from being heard.
"Your very smart for your age Mr. Potter so I'm sure that you can figure out why we teach our students this far out of the public eye."
Harry didn't answer immediately. He had an idea but no evidence to back it up. Hogwarts's design seemed to employ and support 'it'.
"It wouldn't be because hormones also have an impact on our magic would it?"
Pomfrey smiled, pleased with his answer. "That is correct Mr. Potter, five points to Slytherin. Huh, I don't think I've ever given points out before now."
"I'm glad I can be your first Professor," Harry said with a sultry cheeky grin, "but can we focus on my lesson."
Pink rose up from her neck and Pomfrey had the humility to look embarrassed. "Oh, um yes." She stuttered out.
"As I was saying, during these years' things such as biology and societal stress influence the development of magic. These trials can sometimes be a very heavy influence in its development. In high stress or high demanding environments, magic grows and develops in response. To much stress present can sometimes, like a muscle, break it down instead of strengthening it. Needless to say, if done carefully the more challenges a wizard faces, the more a wizard's magic grows within them and the stronger they become. Keep in mind the magic itself doesn't actually change, merely your connection, the pull as it were. To be more easily able to draw upon magic is what it means to grow as a wizard. With me so far."
Harry nodded.
"Now during these years, I mentioned previously, a witch or wizard goes through puberty." She let off a low cough to clear her throat. "I assume you, being muggle raised, you know about this topic already."
Again, Harry nodded.
"Good," she stated looking slightly pleased.
"During this time, a great deal of stress, mentally and physically, is produced. As a result, magic tends to stockpile and grow during these times. This is why the first-year course load is so spread out and open at the first few months, so new witches and wizards can ease themselves into the stress and demands that will be expected of them. Naturally that means as puberty sets in and they develop a witch or wizard will more likely stockpile magic within them. When this happens sometimes it will lead to what is professionally addressed as M.U.K.-137; more publicly and commonly called Magic Build-up."
"M.U.K.-137 ma'am?"
"Yes Mr. Potter, M.U.K.-137. The condition was first recognized in a witch named Marica Uldwin Keldmitch, during the first world war. She was a patient in the 137-medical ward. The healer tending to her was the first to recognize officially the correlation between magic and stress.
Unfortunately, the name stuck as a result of the war. Being in a war-zone at the time, apparently there wasn't any time to waste on a proper terminology. Instead most of their discovery was written as plainly as possible. Regardless it was learned then that magic could and usually built up within a witch or wizard and cause multiple negative side effects when under heavy stress."
Madam Pomfrey paused to take a breather. Taking her wand, she summoned a pitcher with water in it and filled two glasses with it. Taking one herself she handed the other to Harry before continuing.
"The more you use magic the more it develops your core much like a muscle would. When you expect a problem to appear, your magic builds up in preparation. Keep in mind however that magic does both of these actions naturally. Even if a witch or wizard does nothing, they will subconsciously use magic as it flows within them. It is no different from breathing or one's heart beating, a witch or wizard simply does it."
"Is there a difference between M.U.K.-137 and accidental magic?" Harry asked.
While surprised Madam Pomfrey was pleased. "Yes, there is." She said putting her empty glass down. The pitcher magical refilling it on its own. "Accidental magic is different, but the causes are similar. I am glad you noticed that. As children, we are less attuned to magic. Instead of being bound by our intent, magic is bound to our impulses. This is why sometimes you will see cases where a blanket is shifted by a baby's magic. The baby feels cold and the magic responds to solve it. The same can happen even in later years when under extremely highly stressful situations. Sometimes a child will use magic unknowingly. During these youthful periods of accidental magic, magic hasn't had the chance to sync completely with the wizard or witch intent, usually resulting in unpredictable results that weren't intentional."
"Becoming an Obscurial; Is that what happens if M.U.K.-137 isn't taken care of?" Harry asked with a hint of concern.
Pomfrey was taken aback by this question recovered quickly to deny the implication. "No Mr. Potter, though I can see the confusion. M.U.K.-137 is a natural process. Remember it is no different from breathing, its natural. An Obscurus as you know is formed under very strict conditions. A wizard must be under immense stress for a very long period of time. They must identify their magic as the cause of that stress and for only a moment must reject that magic in order for an Obscurus to form. Yes, one can argue that magical back up is involved, but it is not the only thing. Obscurus, Mr. Potter, are formed under the most extreme of cases of hatred directed towards our gifts. Allowing those conditions to flourish is inexcusable and why I don't think I'll ever truly forgive Albus for allowing upon you." She stated soundly.
Taking a breath and a dip of water, Harry took his time digesting everything she told him.
Everything she said could explain why his magic was so unstable and chaotic. If he thought of his body like a dam, when he circulated his magic its volume from use would increase, as if filling up the damn. The result of that buildup came to a head when his life was at risk. Stress acted like a lid, building up pressure. When he later accepted his magic, and he hit puberty, it grew faster than he predicted it would.
The buildup became worse as his body became of age and the excitement and stress of school took hold. While he couldn't say his stress was heavy or unbearable, Harry did have a great many things to stress over. Small, yet numerous things, yes.
He didn't even need to think of the likely war looming over the horizon. Hermione alone was stressful enough to him. Plus, constantly and consciously maintaining his occlumency to prevent his mind from picking up and being raped by the thousand of random thoughts born of his fellow students; yeah that wasn't stress making material at all, he thought sarcastically.
"I follow you so far Professor Pomfrey," Harry said teasing a little bit, and didn't that ring nicely in her ear, "but, you mentioned side-effects if left unchecked. I assume that means there is a method to alleviate magic buildup and that there are consequences for not doing so."
"That is correct. There are consequences and methods of alleviation do exist. Now there are no books on this so listen carefully." She said warning him.
"Both a wizard's magic and body are interlinked, symbiotic. While the body is sometimes linked to magic, magic is always linked to the body. This of magic as thread and your body a spool.
"That pull you feel when using magic is like unspooling thread from that spindle. The spool can affect the threads movements, how it's stored or comes undone for example, but the thread cannot change the spool. Magic buildup is like when we allow that thread to grow unchecked. It can become entangled, unruly, in worse cases spill over the spool." She began explaining.
"On a side note, in some cases, when one focuses on their magic, they can feel it flowing within them. In my simile that flow can be thought of tracing and organizing the thread."
"Or likewise stimulating in cases, when one circulates magic internally around an image within their mind." Harry added to himself.
"Much like when a spool overflows or nots it becomes difficult to use, so too do problems occur when a wizard's magic builds up to much. These problems tend to be physical ailments that can't usually be distinguished. These can range from something as small as body aches and difficulty focusing to more disastrous results, like levitating people in your entire class." She sported with a humorous smirk. However, Harry wasn't laughing as the spool analogy had a darker implication, of what happens when the thread becomes too entangled.
"Or passing out and I'm guessing in extreme cases the loss of one's magic." He suggested morbidly.
This statement killed the smile on her face. With a somber atmosphere she nodded seriously. "Yes, Mr. Potter. You were lucky. For whatever reason your magic, even as backed up as it was, was surprisingly fluid. Normally there would be marks of stress or fatigue, but instead of a damn bursting your magic flushed out like a held breath desperate for release."
Harry internally thanked god for his mana circulation exercise. One of the culprits to his problem turned out to have possible saved his live. Using the analogy as a parallel, the circular exercise while increased the problem also organized the thread. When the pressure was released, the thread or magic as it were came undone with ease.
"As you experienced yourself, magic backup can be harmful to yourself and those around you. Thankfully your episode was triggered by a levitation spell. Another spell could have resulted in a far worse fate for those around you. Similarly, when you expelled that magic, you used up almost all of it. How you manage to draw thread from an empty spool is beyond me Mr. Potter."
Harry had to wonder how dry his well was. He didn't feel empty, not even back then. Was this a byproduct of the Obscurus? "So, this is just another part of being a wizard then." Harry merely stated.
"Yes."
Harry sighed as he considered this. "Why isn't something like this more widely know? Medical journals, magic customs, anything? I know I grew up as a na-muggle but should it be written or explained somewhere?"
"It was." She said, sparking Harry's look of curiosity.
Madam Pomfrey sighed. "This is a bit of history so maybe Professor Binns could tell it better." She explained.
Harry held back the desire to scoff at that. Professor Binns, the ghost who taught wizarding history, was by far the second worse teacher of Hogwarts he had met, Snape taking first place for his… lack of teaching.
The morbid and bland spoken ghost only talked about goblin rebellions, and even those events historically filled with blood, gore, and deception, were transformed irreversible into boring and dull retellings in his class. An amazing feat really.
"Around the early 1830's two events were paramount to shaping Wizarding culture. The first was the unveiling of a cult of twenty-one witches that surrounded a wizard named Rudemoff Xixis who called themselves The Coven of Sixty-six. During this time a division existed between magic. This division was between the powerful families that had lived for centuries in England and witches and wizards immigrating into the country from around the world. England was at the pinnacle of the wizarding world back then and many magical individuals, both capable and powerful, were brought into England."
"Brought?" Harry quickly picked up; A red flag sprouting up faster then his broomstick was fast.
"Brought, not came… 1830… English expansionism, so that's it." Harry pieced together.
Unaware of Harry's thoughts Pomfrey carries on none the wiser. "The tensions grew between the Oldblood of England and the Newblood pouring in. Eventually a war broke out in England between them. At first the Oldblood were losing, at least up until the 1830's. You see, Xixis and his Coven used a particular form of magic to empower themselves and overpower the Oldblood families. It wasn't until the Coven's identity was found out and their subsequent collapse when an error in one of their practices occurred did the tide of the war turn in favor of Oldblood. Thus, without The Coven of Sixty-six, and their magic's supporting them, the Newblood lost, ending the war in the Oldblood's favor."
"In short it was a war between the native families and the foreigners coming in." Harry simplified. "A coup d'etat except with foreign families who wanted to do things their way."
"Blunt but not inaccurate." Promfrey agreed. "Needless to say, this war framed the Oldblood in a poor light. All their skills in magic, and they were inhibited during the war by a group of sixtysix witchs and a wizard. As they were losing and only won because their opposition did themselves in it wasn't inspiring historically wise. As a result, information on this is hard to come by as much of it was considered taboo. Back then being caught sharing the history of the conflict was usually followed by unlawful imprisonment and the seizing of family assets.
"I'm guessing your telling me this because the Coven's methods are similar to the methods used to alleviating magic buildup or backup." Harry asked.
"Yes, it is. You see Harry until then magic was a rather liberal thing. Most magics considered forbidden were not so, merely taboo, frowned upon. However, after this war, one form of magics was made almost made illegal. Sex Magic."
Harry nearly choked on his water, okay that was not what he was expecting.
"The Coven you see used magic to amplify their own magic abilities by sharing magic between each other through sexual activities. The Oldblood tried to make such magic forbidden but failed. This is were the second event comes in."
"Vagrancy Act 1824." Harry guessed correctly.
Madam Pomfrey just looked at him with an impressive look of shock. "We learned about it in muggle school." Harry explained. "Its not a far jump that they tried to use muggle law to get their way is it?"
"No it isn't, I'm just 're correct. That act caused a sudden shift in muggle society and in order to remain hidden, Wizarding society had to learn to mimic it. The Oldblood's used this to their advantage. By forcing wizards to follow the muggle laws and culture, they were able to establish a taboo on sex and succeeded were legally they failed. Sex magic was never made illegal amongst wizards, but wizarding society began to view sex in the same way as English muggles did. Soon it was taboo."
"Until the 1914's…" Harry speculated.
"Technically 1917, Mr. Potter, but yes you are correct. However, by that time, the culture created just shy of a century had taken root in wizarding society."
"Which results in sex being frowned upon publicly but underneath it all its actually practiced quiet freely." Harry concluded.
Madam Pomfrey nodded with a smile of acknowledgment. Standing up she fussed around with her uniform until it was presentable again as a nurse. The kind professor of medicine returned back to her actual profession.
"All of what I told you is usually told at the end of first year to the new students after exams." Promfrey explained. "However, you Mr. Potter are very powerful and have 'that' to deal with. To hell with what Albus thinks, I believe you need to know this for your health."
Holding up two fingers she said, "Magical buildup and all its folly can be taken care of by two methods."
"The first method is by using magic in a safe practical environment and taking breaks. This method usually works for when a wizard comes of age and doesn't usually suffer magic buildup very often."
She folded one of her fingers in, leaving the other clearly indicating the more important solution. One was second this one was primary.
"The latter is via performing sexual acts. Magic is more free-flowing and active in such activities as both your magic and physiology are effected. To date it is the method of treatment for magic buildup. While publicly we match are Victorian roots, it is no secret between the staff and your seniors that sexual acts are performed on a regular basis, especially by fifth and seventh-year students."
Harry remained quiet, soaking it all up like a sponge. Madam Pomfrey brought her hand down rested it on her uniform, shifting it into her other hand. "Do you have any questions?"
After a while Harry looked up and nodded. "Several. The first, Not all families believe this to be factual, do they? I'm assuming several pureblood families believe such things to be frowned upon and that its complete horse talk and rumor based.
"Yes, some families have made it a topic of taboo. My position however as a Medi-witch means I have a magic bound responsibility to enact and inform my patients of the best possible treatments known. While they would like me to say nothing, every year I inform students of this truth." Pomfrey answered before she paused to consider something. "Well, as often as I can. Sometimes it's put off or canceled because of some incident at Saint Mungo's so I shouldn't say every year. I'm the only healer here and am the only on qualified so its unfortunately a secondary concern job wise."
Harry accepted that as he nodded. "Essentially to maintain my health as I develop, I'll need to perform sexually in order to prevent magical buildup. This is allowed, but will result in punishments if every caught, spotted, or witnessed by a professor, adult, or student?"
"Yes and No. If public, it will get you detention, heavy punishment, and point deductions. If alone and not in a public venture were no one is around, the professors and prefects will most likely tell you to hurry up and move along. In Hogwarts unless it involves talking to me there is a strong, don't ask don't tell atmosphere, about it. Most that don't believe or suffer from magic buildup usually don't adhere to this principle though. Most being muggleborn."
"You mentioned puberty sped up the rate of buildup, not caused it. Does this mean magic buildup can be expected even after I graduate from Hogwarts?"
"It is a life long condition with magic. So long as you use magic and have stresses in life, magic buildup will be a thing. For some it's not a problem as it only appearing every so often. For others they stop acquiring buildup after puberty. For them I believe their married life satisfy their needs before it becomes a problem but that is speculation. There's currently no correlation between a wizard's strength or power and the rate they suffer magic buildup, but as the topic is taboo, it hasn't been studied heavily.
Albus I know hasn't suffered Magical buildup in years. However, I met this one poor child her suffered from it nearly every week and was quite magically… um pathetic I suppose."
Harry considered that for a moment. It was no wonder he was magically backed up. A ritual that forced his magic to revert into an eleven-year-old body, the stress born of wanting to correct and learn any and all magic that he could, and constant stress from focusing on keeping his occlumency up, it was a wonder he hadn't exploded.
That wasn't the only stress either. Now that he thought of it, she never said mental stress. Quidditch was quite stressful too. The stress he put on his body alone trying to fly like he wanted to, was sure as hell not quelling his magic. It also explained why nowhere was there a rune or enchantment that prevented sexual activities.
Hogwarts was made almost a thousand years ago. Well before the reform act. Harry had no evidence but, in all likelihood, sexual acts were encouraged between witches and wizards. There was no shortage of magical methods to prevent pregnancies.
Plus, if his speculations were true, magic protected families from genetic flaws born from incestual relationships… to a point. The Gaunt's if the genology book he found, if it was correct, were mentally fine if a bit corrupt and very Malfoy-ish for the six generations. After that… well whatever prevented the mental decay fell to pieces leaving the house in ruins.
Harry wondered if magic that flowed between families had some way of protecting the family from genetic ailments.
As far as he knew there were no wizarding families that fell victim to cancer or autism. In fact, none of them even seemed to be aware of such illnesses. Harry knew magic could be passed down through blood, but was that the only thing? Harry resolved to look into this further.
"Madam Pomfrey," Harry asked looking back at her. "Just so I'm clear, same sex relations or actions will also relieve magic buildup, is that accurate?"
Madamn Pomfrey's face scrunched up at this. "Well someone's not bias." Harry teased.
"Now look here Mr. Potter." She began in a foul and harsh tone before she took a step back to calm down. "Understand Mr. Potter, it is strongly discouraged to engage with one of the same sex."
"Discouraged," Harry commented, "Not forbidden?"
"Forgive me Harry but I have to ask. Are-"
"I like witches ma'am. I'm not into guys. I'm simply asking a question regarding the topic." Harry interrupted firmly, not wanting a false rumor spread.
"I see." Pomfrey commented slowly. "Well, understand that it is, heavily frowned upon. A witch's witch, a witch who loves another witch are heavily looked upon with shame. S-sometimes they are called scarlet witches. Do not say that word Harry, it is a very cruel and insulting term to call a witch."
Taking a shaky breath she continued, "This goes further back, before even Hogwarts Mr. Potter. The wizarding world you see Harry is not a balanced ratio. It is roughly quarter male and three quarters female. Simply put it is more likely that a girl will be born then a boy. In the last three hundred years our people have been on the decline Harry. Between the world wars, and You-know-who, our population has dropped heavily. There are now more males then females, globally. Witches, Harry are expecting to be-"
"You called me Harry again." Harry interrupted.
"What?" Pomfrey asked in confusion.
"Just now, you called me Harry." She never did that.
She was caught flatfooted by his comment. Taking a second to collect herself she apologized.
"Forgive me Mr. Potter. As I was saying witches are expected to bare the heir to other families. It's not just our laws Harry, Magic is passed down to the males of a family. While a family's magic can continue down via a female child its ownership is only passable by a male heir.
Right now, there is a real fear that our society will go extinct Harry. All over the world. To be a… witch's witch means a witch isn't devoted to propagating or ensuring the continuation of magic. By not producing heirs, it ensures fewer heirs to magic are born. It's the same for a wizard's wizard Harry. Not producing heirs is considered shameful and is more heavily despised if said wizard is a last heir. To be either is wrong and is considered a mark of shame. A sign that you willingly promote the decay of magic.
Harry nodded in understanding. He didn't like it, but he understood why. Then suddenly it clicked.
"You're a witches witch…" his voice was soft and held no bite, but Madam Pomfrey stood still as if she had just stared into the eyes of a Basilisk. Harry spoke again, more confident as he looked her dead in the eyes.
"You like-"
"DON'T SAY IT!" Pomfrey all but screamed in frantic denial. Harry felt his ears ring in agonizing pain. Her shout was loud enough that without the wall of cloth canceling out the sound from within, the whole school would have heard her.
Harry stared at her sharply, not budging. Neither budged and what felt like minutes passing was only a second long. The first to buckle was Pomfrey. Her voice all but turned into a whimper of shame.
"Don't say it." She repeated. Tears were now threatening to come out.
Harry nodded, but knew he had to say something. He considered the pros and cons and viewing the pros, Harry let go of his barriers and peaked into her mind.
"You're attracted to Professor McGonagall."
Harrys words held no accusations, but they tore down the Nurses defenses like rice paper.
"Minerva and I went to school together, we've endured so much, learned magic together." She said passively.
"She fell for someone else and you for her." Harry added. She nodded, weak and vulnerable.
Even a child, crying wolf could do great harm with the write words. Her life, her future, if she was publicly proclaimed a witch's witch there would be little evidence to dissuade the minds of the wizarding society. She would be shamed, crucified.
Harry reached Madam Pomfrey and placed his hand on hers. "I will never tell anyone your secret. I do not think any less of you Madam Pomfrey. Who you love is up to you and should only be up to you. This, what you feel, is between you and Professor McGonagall."
His soft-spoken words touch Pomfrey deeply. "Thank you, Mr. Potter." She rubbed the tears from her eyes as she spoke. "I'm sorry, I should be more professional here."
"I was the one who spoke out of turn Ma'am." Harry said gently.
Regaining her footing, Pomfrey turned back to Harry proudly again as if nothing happened.
"To answer your question, yes, so long as it is pleasurable to the individual, same sex interactions will alleviate magic buildup. I know many students experiment and cross wands so to speak. However, the stigma does exist strongly in the wizarding world. I've heard some muggle society's have been loosening up and becoming more accepting of such relationships, but keep in mind what I've told you today.
Harry shook his head in understanding. Pomfrey still appearing shaken. She hovered over his bedside table, seemingly unsure as were to go now.
Attempting to throw her a life raft, Harry tired to ask her another question that would change the subject.
"Ma'am, on a completely different topic, I was wondering if you could answer a few medical questions regarding Wiggenweld Potion."
She turned to look at him with a discerning eye. "Well after I learned about it in my text book I started thinking about how and why it was made the way it was. For example, instead of using gingreek root, the potion instructs have us to use lionfish spines. Gingreek root and lionfish spines hold similar properties, however wouldn't gingreek reduce the number of additional steps regarding flobberworm mucus?"
Pomfrey nodded, "It would, but it would also make the potion toxic to those with low blood pressure." Madam Pomfrey informed him."
"Even, if you change the ratio of gingreek root and lionfish spines to 2:3?" Harry countered.
The debate regarding Wiggenweld was quite successful in Harry's mind. By the coming of the rising sun their academic discussion of potions had both distracted Madam Pomfrey from her worries and had impressed her with his knowledge of potions and herbology.
Harry also learned a bit regarding potions as well, specifically that he could reduce the volatility of Wiggenweld potion by using a 2:7 ratio of gingreek and lion fish during its production; something he was looking forward to trying out later. He was also unfortunately given more homework in making and brining to her several vials of Boil Cure, a first-year potion he had yet to touch in class but had made several attempts at improving via experimentation during his free time in his trunk, usually in the middle of the night.
Freed from the Hospital wing, and currently loaded by the knowledge he had just learned, Harry made his way to the library. Entering Harry walked from isle to isle, row after row. Again, and again, Harry plucked one book and then another. With a stack a meter-high Harry found a remote table in the early morning and set the books apart.
Three piles were made. History, Genealogy, Potions. In his mind he had a few questions he wanted answered.
What was the general course of wizarding history? How did it effect or relate to the development of wizarding families and lineages? Lastly, he wanted to correct and compare his noted on Wiggenweld as well as the prior notes on the uses of gingreek root that he had written down previously. This was secondary.
Almost all the books stacked were on History and Genealogy. As Harry skimmed through them, checking and comparing records and statistics, he noticed several things of vital importance.
First Madam Pomfrey wasn't exactly wrong. According to the written texts, the wizarding population up until the last four hundred years was roughly a one to four ratio, 25% male and 75% female.
However, that was not based on birth but instead population. It was almost magically locked. At any given time until about four to five hundred years ago, the population was locked at one to four.
Harry noticed or rather identified that if the records were true, if the overall population didn't match that magical ratio, then there was a drastic shift in the births present. A prime example was noted around 14th and 15th century. A massive drop in female witches appeared all over Europe. No surprise really considering what happened then. What was surprising was according to the Wizarding Records of Pureblood Families Around the World, during that time, the birth of witches over wizards increased globally and the birth of male heirs became sporadic.
The only place globally that this wasn't the case was in England owned settlements and over in China.
Harry had to wander, was this an outlier or more cynically, was the demand for a male heir so great that they chose to forgo their daughters born?
That thought force Harry to swallow the buildup of vile in his mouth and trudge forward. Looking back further Harry tried to find the origin of certain families, but the book only went back as far as 300 AD.
Defeated Harry closed the books in front of him and pinched the bridge of his nose.
The books here most likely didn't go back that far. Most magics from that far back were ancient and only performable by the most powerful of individuals.
It was the age of gods, the time when magic was supreme.
It was an age of legends.
Harry should have known that information that far back wouldn't be sitting on a book shelf so easily accessible. It would be locked within a family home or sealed away in a vault with powerful magics.
It was what he did after all.
During the war he would travel around with cookbooks he made, cleverly designed and coded to appear like regular cook books, but in actuality hid the instructions and notes of his alchemical and potioneering knowledge.
With so little knowledge of spells and wandcraft left to the world, encryption and code cyphers were the next best thing for concealing that knowledge from hostile forces.
Looking at the clock Harry realized it was almost ten. If he waited too long, he'd have to deal with his fellow house mates in bulk.
Packing up Harry made his way back to his dormitory. Harry had to admit that it was a worthwhile learning experience. More importantly it gave him something to sink his teeth into.
Harry had to admit despite how backwards Wizarding society appeared there was almost always a reason why. Corruption, culture, or their very way of life, it was a necessity. There was always a reason for something, nothing was coincidental.
While Harry didn't agree with the social stigma behind homosexuality in the wizarding world, he understood why it existed. If what he found was true, and so far, no evidence proved otherwise, being a homosexual essentially constituted socially a betrayal of magic, an active willingness to not promote and propagate the next generation of magic.
He didn't agree with this since if a contract to breeding was made, one could easily donate themselves to give birth for another family. While not the best solution, it was a solution. This way it wouldn't be considered a betrayal. However, there were some things Harry didn't know yet. How magic for example effected the equation. Family, social bounds, public views, even emotions certainly had impacts as to the reason why.
All the same Harry knew now that homosexuality like heterosexuality acts could relieve magical buildup. While Harry himself was straight he could already see where a problem could arise.
Pleasure was needed, if it wasn't pleasurable, then magic wouldn't be released, the problem would remain unsolved.
"Being straight was tough as a partner is needed of from the opposite sex…" Harry considered to himself as he walked.
"That could also be an influence. On top of the Victorian culture and generally low male population, a straight man with magic buildup would need a female willing partner to join with.
Likewise, a straight female would need a male to elevated build up. In both cases homosexuals would not be interested in the fairer sex. Less partners to go around and Harry could easily see frustration and grudges becoming an issue. In this case, bisexuality was a plus for the witch or wizard. However sexual preference isn't a choice its who you are. And as women are nearly three times more likely to identify as bi, that left the male population limited. A woman was more likely to seek out another female rather than a male. In almost all cases the males got the short stick.
"Damn. Vicotira England really fucked this up…" Harry commented. Or perhaps it was magic at fault.
The whole thing left a sour taste in his mouth. Then again, he didn't have to like it. Harry never liked living eternally alone. He just had to live with it and find a solution that better solved the problem.
Entering the Slytherin Common room behind through the disguised stone corridor door, Harry paused in motion to his room as the lone couch in the corner of the room caught his eye. Pomfrey's reaction to his words slammed hard into the forefront of his brain. His eyes widening.
"Son of a natural's whore." Harry shouted eliciting at least two looks of confusion from his housemates within the room. Harry didn't notice them and simply flung his hand to his face.
He'd have to keep a look out now for the two he spotted earlier that year. If there was such a heavy taboo on same sex partnerships, Harry could only imagine what must be going through the minds of the two who partook in such relations and got caught by an unknown individual.
As Harry departed for his room, all he could do was try to remember who the two Slytherins were. He'd have to subtly give them word that he would keep their relationship secret. It also begged the question how deep that relationship was and exactly who was comforting who.
Entering into his trunk Harry pulled out several vials and started setting up his cauldron. The day after Halloween he had History of Magic. Deciding to skip, Harry focused on pulling out all his ingredients, some quills and parchment, and setting up his blast shield.
The makeshift bed sheet enchanted with blood and runic arrays to protect from nearly any blast hanged proudly from the ceiling even as acidic substances still ate through it like tinfoil.
Pulling a gas mask, he appropriated from the come-and-go room, Harry began to experiment with potion, Cure for Boils.
Pulling up the instructions he looked at the page for Cure for Boils within Magical Drafts and Potions. Page 72. The page was a yellowish tan and was as clean as the day he got it from Flourish and Blotts. With ink and quill in hand he was going to fix that.
"Okay then, following the traditional way first… here we go. Step one, warnings, let's see… ah there it is at the bottom, again. Cauldron must be taken off fire before adding quills. Cauldron will explode if coated with Bulbadox powder. That's good to know. Okay clean Cauldron and step one is, add six snake fangs to the motar."
That night after several experiments and close call explosions, Harry slept soundly for the first time in days. Even the aches from the earlier exposure of viciously sprouting boils on his leg didn't bother him in his sleep. Soon he would awake and be ready for whatever the magical world had to throw at him.
These were his lingering thoughts as he slept as beside him ten vials sat comfortably. Nine completely filled with a clean blue liquid that admitted a pink smoke within the enclosed vials.
How forgetful he was. Handle any magic the world had to throw at him. Sure, Harry could do that with a smile.
Unless that magic was the joys of Snape's Potions lessons, take two, return of the Potions Master.
Harry was not looking forward to the return of potions now that its cruel dictator had returned from being incapacitated. Even as he made his way to the Dungeons, Harry swore that if Snape even tried to enter his mind again - punishments be damned - he'd leave the man comatose.
Even as he thought that, several dark spells danced at the tip of his tongue just waiting to entertain the slimy git.
Sitting in the dungeons Harry kept an eye on Snape who hovered near the corner of the room.
The man threw inquisitive glances at Harry. A mix between glaring snarls and flashes of peaked curiosity. Once everyone sat down and all students were present the man began to roam around the room. Hovering over each student, lingering forebodingly each time, before standing over Harry.
Harry calmly held his hostility in check. As much as he earlier agreed to hexing the prick it Harry would only strike if provoked. Biting his tongue, he tempered his wand in favor of sharpening his mind.
"Well Mr. Potter it seems you do not have the standard pewter cauldron that was listed as 'required' for this class." Snape drawled out eyeing his cauldron with interest.
"That is correct, sir." Harry calmly retorted back even as internally he imagined his wand arm being severed right off. Not even two minutes into class and the man was already itching to pick a fight. However, anything short of physically hurting Hermione, or attempting to read his mind again; Harry resolved to at least act impassive.
"Tell me then, Mr. Potter. Did you think yourself more superior than everyone else when you chose to buy what was clearly not on your list? That it would be a good idea to flaunt your wealth with a silver lined cauldron and utensils?"
"No." Harry curtly stated even as his teeth ground against themselves like twin whetstones. "Silver lined cauldrons are preferred in potion making since they don't react with most potion ingredients and produce purer products as a result."
The slightest of smirks flickered on Snape's grim features. "You mustn't let fame cloud your decisions Mr. Potter. That cauldron is a hazard and won't last past your third potion."
Harry retorted sharply. He could take statements that were true, but that comment coming from a Potion's master was outright false. "It is good for a total of three hundred potions Professor, so long as it is maintained!" he nearly shouted barely retaining his calm demeaner even as he invoked numerous stirs from his fellow classmates.
"5 points from Slytherin Potter for your outburst. Sit down." Snape ordered his sickening tone practically melting over the room. Just saying Harry's name seemed to give him indigestion.
Still fuming Harry sat down as Snape walked away. Turning he glared at the rest of them. "We'll? Why aren't you all writing that down!"
Everyone, Harry included, were stunned. None of them were sure what he meant by 'writing this down'. What was 'this' he spoke of?
As they did nothing Snape lectured down at them with a gaze that clearly was a look of upmost contempt. His eyes practically saying, what utter and useless morons you all are.
"Your standard pewter cauldrons will indeed allow you to make tolerable potions in my class. But no master would touch such things. Silver is non-reactive and magically repelling to certain potions and potion ingredients. Good for no more and no less than three brews, a Silver cauldron must have its silver coat reapplied to main the purity of any potion made within it. And like all cauldrons must be cleaned after every use."
Quills sped furiously as Snape drawled on. Not even glancing at Harry he continued, "Ten points to Slytherin for proper potions equipment."
This left Harry dumbstruck and confused. Did Snape just give him points? Not in a million years after that first dreaded encounter would Harry have assumed such a thing possible. The man gave every indication that he hated him. Then again, he also gave the impression that he swallowed a Sourpatch for ever point deduction he took from him.
"All of you open you texts to page 72." Waving his wand, the instructions appeared on the chalkboard for how to make the Cure for Boils draft. "Your potion is to be handed to me by the end of class, you have two hours." The last part his said with a scoff.
Not even looking to see if anyone obeyed him Snape perused the room overshadowing everyone's work.
Harry didn't even bother reading the instructions. He had already brewed this potion nearly fifty different ways the night before and had altered the recipe. It was so different that it might as well have been a different potion recipe. However, like the recipe, the potion was successful as his fully recovered leg proved the previous night.
Making his potion Harry mentally read the instructions along with his alterations.
Ignore the cauldron fire, it will not explode, ensure water moisture does not coat the cauldron's interion. Use a Spermwelt sponge to ensure a completely dry surface.
Recalling the original instruction Harry looked up at the board only as a mental reminder of the original.
Part one, Add 6 powdered – via crushing – snake fangs in four measures and heat mixture to 250 for ten seconds, wave wand, leave brewing for 33-45 minutes.
Harry ignored this step. Lighting his cauldron, Harry waved his wand and broke off 8 measures of snake fangs crushing them into powder. He then mixed it into a solution one-part sodium chloride and three parts mercury resulting in a silvery gelatin like lump with white specks.
Making sure the gelatin was a transparent silver and that his wand was clearly visible when he looked through it, Harry moved it into his cauldron. Stir two minutes clockwise he then waved his wand and waited ten minutes as he read the originals next step.
Part two, add four horned slugs.
Ignore that step. Use mortar and grind up porcupine quills. Experiment shows horned slug was used as a calming catalyst in preparation for Porcupine quills which also resulted in explosive results when on fire. Mixture of one-part salt and three-part mercury ensured similar calming effect and was only explosive when water made was introduced. That problem was solved with a spermwelt sponge during preparations.
Take cauldron off heat before adding quills.
Once again, unnecessary. Keep on heat. Stir ten times clockwise. Then add 6 horned slugs after drying them out next to cauldron fire. Provides increased potency and ensures no allergic reactions to end product. Add powdered quills to mix, tap wand once, stir 5 times clockwise, then tap again twice for completion.
Tapping twice injecting magic. Apply higher quantity at first tap and ensure less magic is used on second tap. This will make the potion thicken up upon contact with boils making it easier to apply to wounds.
The result… a perfectly brewed Cure for boils complete with pink smoke rising from the cauldron along with a clean liquid blue color.
Unlike the textbooks, this batch would leave no slight burning sensation upon use and was resulted in nearly three times the product. Upon contact with boils the liquid potion would congeal into a creamy paste for ease of application further reducing amount needed for healing. Could be drunk or applied directly.
Bottling the potion in a silver crystal vial, Harry was about to hand it in before realizing Snape had been hovering over him. His eyes a mix of burning hatred and… impressed?
Looking around the entire class was looking at him. Snape eyes glaring down at him. "Mr. Potter. Do you think you are above following directions?"
Harry unsure if this was a jab at him or something else like last time answered, "No, sir."
"Then tell me what you think you were doing just now?"
"Following your instructions, sir." Harry replied cautiously.
"And when did I tell you to completely disregard the instruction placed on the board and within your text?" Snape asked.
"Roughly four seconds before you told us that our potion was due in two hours' time." Harry said casually as he started to have fun with their conversation.
The two glared at each other. For a time, sparks could be seen by the other students between their heated glares. Harry thought the man was debating whether to enter his mind or not but was shocked when he moved aside.
"Two points from Slytherin Mr. Potter for your cheek," he declared moving out of Harry's way, "and another ten points for completion of your potion and listening to instructions carefully."
Harry stood there for a moment and deciding against looking a gift horse in the mouth, placed his potion on Snape's desk. Returning to his seat Harry was about to store his remaining contents for Madam Pomfrey but Snape had beaten him too it.
"The remains of your potion shall be delivered to Madam Pomfrey myself Mr. Potter. I am sure you have no qualms about that." he stated as he walked past him. A wave of his wander found the contents of his cauldron banished into eight large jaws upon his desk.
So long as she did get it Harry had no issue with that. If he wanted to try to take credit for his work, that was fine, the nine vials in his pocket were going to reach her long before his cauldron's contents ever did. Pomfrey certainly would know who the maker was by the logic of first come first server.
Harry wisely and without a word began to clean the silver lining of his cauldron as well as the utensils he used to clean it. When Harry was done, he noticed that everyone who was on the last step of part one watched him maintain his equipment.
Packing it away Harry made to leave when Snape's voice drifted towards him. Not looking up from his desk he merely said, "2 points, Mr. Potter for proper dedication to your craft. Now stop disturbing the class and get out of my sight." He bit out.
Leaving the classroom Harry was left to wonder what the hell that was about. As he walked down the halls a voice called out to him.
"Mr. Potter what are you doing out of class?"
Turning around Harry politely greeted on of his favorite professors.
"Good evening Professor McGonagall, I just came from Potions ma'am."
"Classes aren't over for another hour and a half."
"Yes ma'am." Harry replied. He was starting to get what the other students were talking about when they described being interrogated by the Transfiguration Professor as soul crushing. She was intimidating as hell.
"I finished my work early and was let out. I was on my way to deliver a potion to Madam Pomfrey by her request."
McGonagall's eyes blinked twice as if to perform a doubletake her neck refused to perform.
"So, you're saying Professor Snape let you leave early?"
Harry nodded, "Yes ma'am, I finished early, and he told me to go."
McGonagall curtly nodded, "Come with me Potter." He did so, stepping in line with her. "Is there anything else you wish to add regarding your class?"
"Well as I said, I was heading to the Madam Pomfrey just now. She gave me an assignment to make six vials of Boil Cure and interestingly that was todays class subject. I have the six vials; however, I admit I am concerned. Snape said he would personally deliver my remaining potion to her and I wanted to both hand in her assignment as well as let her know that Snape intended to deliver to her my potion contents."
McGonagall stumbled in her step, turning to stare incredulously at Harry. "Is that true?"
Harry nodded trying his best to appear as honest as possible. He saw the smile grace her face as she accepted his word. "Ten points for Slytherin then Mr. Potter."
Harry looked up curiously. "You don't think I'm lying Professor and why ten points?"
"If you are Harry it is the most blatant and boldest lie, I have ever heard." She informed casually.
"Professor Snape would never give Pomfrey a potion that did not meet his standards which is borderline perfection. I'm sure you can see why saying that he is delivering your potion to her is such an outrages statement. For all those who know Professor Snape it is unthinkable that he would regard a student's work so highly."
Harry grinned at this, he couldn't help it. The sense of accomplishment was overwhelming. Not surprising, simply overwhelming. His knowledge was useful, hundreds of years of trial an error tended to help in that regard.
However, Harry had put in an all nightery experimenting to make a better version of Boil Cure. That he succeeded in a single night was both shocking and exhilarating for Harry. Harry didn't expect the potion itself to be so easy to make and identify.
The reaction and connotation between ingredients were easy to identify if you already knew how said ingredients reacted with each other. Again, hundreds of years of trial and error tended to make that almost stupidly easy. Had potions been utterly useless, he probably would never have tired. Unfortunately, or fortunately they were shit stupidly useful at healing wounds that would kill someone. Or, in Harry's case, heal wounds that were stupidly annoyingly painful and didn't kill him.
"If you keep up the good work, Mr. Potter I believe the you will go very far even under Professor Snape's... grueling conditions."
Harry snickered at this comment and walked into McGonagall's office behind her. As she closed the door she turned and asked quite casually. "Now, how are you handling the fact you will be required to release your magic periodically?"
Harry froze uncomfortably. "Ummm... I don't know really. Madam Pomfrey gave me the 'talk' but I guess I'm still rapping my head around it." he said using quotations on the word talk.
Walking into McGonagall's office Harry stood in front of her desk as she sat down. "I mean the fact that wizarding society understands and even excepts a certain amount of sex is still a little... unbelievable. I mean the culture I've seen contradicts heavily and if I'm honest I'm still left with questions such as why and how. Historically I mean. I mean I'm still reading up on the why but it's still... It's a lot for someone who's not even at the age of puberty yet." Harry tried to explain.
It was times like this that Harry really had to wonder if he was a shit ass smart child or a really, really, young old guy. Moments like this Harry felt like the former.
McGonagall nodded in understanding from her chair a little impressed at his maturity. "That is quite understandable. Forgive me for my lack of tack in asking. It is simply a matter of importance both for you and everyone else. And with the Quidditch match coming up it is important you understand what could happen if you don't manage your magic. Speaking of which, how are you feeling about being on the Gryffindor Team?" McGonagall asked.
"The picture of excellence. I'm actually looking forward to seeing the rest of my house's reactions on the pitch. Although, I think I might want to lie low for a while afterwards. Honestly I just want to fly freely again." Harry said. "Thank you again for letting me join the Gryffindor team, Professor. I never got to say that to you. Flying means a lot to me."
"I believe those are words I should be saying to you. I look forward to win the Quidditch Cup this year with your talents." McGonagall said with no shortage of hope hidden in her voice.
At that moment a knock sounded from the door and a young lady with pink hair dressed in Hufflepuff robes walked into the office.
"Wotcher Professor."
Smiling McGonagall greeted her in kind before returning to Harry.
"Harry this is –"
"Ms. Nympho Dora Tonks from Hufflepuff right?" Harry stated. The girl had caught his attention long ago, enough so for him to investigate her name. She could perform human transfiguration without a wand. Something both amazing and dangerous to him. Harry upon seeing it made a mental note to watch her and eavesdrop for her name.
Nymphodora Tonks at that exact moment tripped on her own feet in response to Harry's comment. Professor McGonagall lip tightened before she corrected him, clearly trying to not burst out laughing herself.
"Ms. Nymphadora Tonk, Mr. Potter. She is six years your senior – a seventh year Hufflepuff. Ms. Tonks this is Harry James Potter, your junior by six years."
Stumbling back up Tonks held out her hand. "Wotcher Harry," she stated and as she shook his hand gripped it tightly till circulation was threatened. "And if you ever call me that again I will hex you to oblivion.
Harry shook her hand ignoring her hostile grip. She was easily a foot taller than him and had a personality to match. Cheery, optimistic, and with her bubblegum colored she appeared to be very individualized person as far as first impressions where concerned. Getting back up she walked up to Harry and held out her hand.
"Call me Tonks. Don't ever call by my first name. I hate it." she said smiling sinisterly with no warmth behind it. Her hand grew tighter and tighter as she continued to squeeze Harry's after he took it. Evil grew behind her smile.
"Then I suggest you perform hex's you know that counters too. I'm quite used to repelling them," Harry said forcing her hand to his lips, planting a chaste kiss before saying as cheekily as possible, "My Lady Nympho"
Tonks's recklessly casting of a hex of unknown origin in response had Harry wisely leaping out of its way. He didn't know why but he felt an incredible desire to tease this woman to no end. Harry wondered why he also felt so vexed and at ease around her too.
"Ms. Tonks!" McGonagall shouted in utmost disapproval, evoking Tonks to at least look abashed. Points were lost and she glared at Harry who smiled innocently.
"I'm gonna get you kid." She grumbled and Harry smiled.
"Careful, I'm friends with the Weasley Twins." He whispered back.
"You're either really ballsy, powerful, or confident to say that at me with a straight face at me Harry."
"Which, you're name or being friends with the Twins. Plus, can't I be all three?" Harry asked cheekily. Both laughed together while McGonagall muttered under her breath, clearly frustrated and possibly regretting having these two meet. "It's like James all over again."
Harry thought it was the latter.
"Ms. Tonks. I assume you are here for your studies." McGonagall asked trying to reacquire control over the room.
"Yes, Professor, I need more practice with potions and am asking for a place to work. I want to make sure I get an Outstanding in my NEWT's so I can get accepted. My grades are okay for now but, I want to make sure –"
"I understand Ms. Tonks, however Potions is Professor Snape's field of expertise not mine." McGonagall stated much to Tonks distress.
"I know Professor it just... he isn't exactly the most...um, open Professor to extra lessons. Or to handing out rooms to practice in." Tonks stated conservatively. Harry nodded in agreement,
Snape wasn't one who many could get along with. He knew a lot of unlikeable people, several of which he decapitated in battle. Snape seemed to top most if not all of them. The man was just unlikable. Which vexed Harry as he had that damn gut feeling that seemed to praise the ground he walked on.
McGonagall thought about it and seeing Harry she wondered. "Mr. Potter, have you read any of the books regarding potions above your year?"
Tonks looked confused at the question. Harry was a first year, why ask him if he knew higher grade potions she wondered as Harry answered, "I've only read up the third year and have experimented up to half of the potions in my first-year text. I do have an understanding of some advance potions which I've succeeded in making though. I've made Polyjuice and Veritaserum and a few others."
Technically he could make both masterfully having recovered them from the vestige of time and had ample time to experiment with them. Both were incredibly useful.
McGonagall expression was a mixture of shocked disbelief and reassured confidence. "Mr. Potter do you think you are capable of studying Potions with Ms. Tonks?"
Harry tried not to laugh as Tonks looked at McGonagall's mouth as if a Runespoor had sprouted out of it.
"I'm not sure. I'd like to think I'm a fast learner." Harry stated modestly.
"Professor surely you don't think –" Tonks began to interject not believing Harry was up to. let alone capable enough, to work with her let alone help her. However, she was silenced by McGonagall's raised hand.
"It is only until I or you have found a better alternative. I am not dismissing your request only wishing to find a better solution. Just this morning Mr. Potter received a glowing, albeit indirect, recommendation from Professor Snape himself if word is to be believed."
She had also seen his notes but wasn't going to make any mention of them. Those notes within his text books showed a far greater understanding for the subject then even she possessed and hinted at a speed of understanding she'd never seen before. While she had her suspicions, she was currently convinced Harry like his mother was a potion's prodigy. He was a Potter after all.
"I would like you to give Mr. Potter a chance to see if he can help you. Even if he can't make the potions his insight into theory should help quite a bit." McGonagall said trying to both clarify and persuade Tonks into giving Harry a shot. That and she had a suspicion that Harry might prove to know more about potions then they believed was possible.
"Not only that-" she continued on, "-with Harry to keep an eye on your clumsiness, I can feel more secure about letting you work within one of the unused classrooms."
The last thing she wanted was to give Ms. Tonks, the Hufflepuff Weasley, unsupervised access to a classroom with potions. Yes, McGonagall believed her desire to improve her work was real but even so, her rep wasn't in her favor.
Turning to Harry she asked, "Mr. Potter would you be up to helping Ms. Tonks out?"
Harry nodded, "I'd like a week to read up on seventh year material and for that other thing I have going on Professor."
The professor nodded, "That should be fine Mr. Potter." Taking a slip out from her desk she wrote out a note and handed it to him. It was a permission slip for access to Seventh Year materials and access to the forbidden section of the library for two books, The Alchemy of Change by Nicholas Flamel and Complex and Dark Remidies by Durk Rugbitt.
"Take this and please don't let my faith in you be misplaced Mr. Potter. I give you both permission to use one of the empty classroom on the fifth floor for your studies. Please inform me of which room you take over."
Taking the note Harry nodded. Before rushing out he grinned at Tonks, "Should I meet you in the Great Hall next week?"
Hesitantly Tonks said, "Maybe we should meet in front of the abandoned classrooms on the fifth floor. Maybe the one on the left after you get off of the moving staircases."
Harry nodded at the suggestion and rush out of the Office. It was nearly time for classes to end and Harry was eager to use this golden ticket to make the more exciting seventh year potions as well as access to the forbidden section itself.
It was nice that he now didn't have to sneak into the forbidden section like he thought he'd have to eventually to gain access to the books within. Now he legit reason and permission to access it. Sure, he'd likely have to sneak in again, but at least he'd be able to scout that section freely.
xXxXx
GOD DAMN IT ITS DONE. This chapter was practically re-written from the ground up. It sucked and now is a hundred times better. This chapter goes out to KrisB-71854, for sparking the inspiration of wizarding history and its impact on modern wizards and forcing me to suffer rewriting nearly 30 pages. Wands off to you mate. This chapter is dedicated to you. Also, you can blame its long as length on him. This was the shortest chapter to date. His inspiring words, he did it =P. KrisB-71854 you already know how much I loved that review of yours, thanks again. Love how this chapter rolls now.
Onto the next chapter.