Chapter 2 – Preparing for the Task

Harry tried a lot of spells, be it curses, jinxes or charms taken from several books the room provided for him. The results varied a lot. From good enough performances to outright failures and everything in between. The last one on his list, Confringo, blasted the dummy statue he was practicing on all right, but caused shrapnel of stones to fly in every direction. A chunk of stone even flung itself straight back at Harry. He was tired, out of focus, and he was entirely too late to protect himself or evade the fast-flying piece.

"Dang it!" called out Harry in frustration as it painfully crashed into his face and he fell down, dazed. Now Harry's vision was in shambles, his cheeks and brows were bleeding and his dizzy head hurt from the impact as well.

"Damned hell. Where are my glasses?" asked Harry, wishing he knew where they flew off. Stupid glasses. He hated constantly taking care of them, but couldn't imagine his daily life without them. He barely saw some fuzzy shapes without them sitting on his face. Nearly blind, Harry swept the ground area somewhere in the direction they flew off, until his hands caught onto something that wasn't stony rubble.

"Aha! Finally!" Exclaimed Harry as he put them on his face. At last, he was able to see. That took way too long and wasted his time.

"I should head back." muttered Harry, tiredly. Harry was worried about students and teachers noting his absence and make someone suspicious, snooping in his business. It wouldn't do for anyone to worry about where he went and, worse, report it. He wanted to keep a low profile and this room to himself as long as possible, as it was brilliant. Calling the end of session, he went on the way back to the dormitory.

Hmm. Was it his imagination, or did everything look a smidge sharper now? Despite the blood on his face, he felt like he was seeing better and focusing on his surroundings without issues. Nah, he was overthinking issues that weren't there. It was probably nothing. Harry dismissed that notion from his mind and plowed through the corridors without interruptions at a fast pace. Well, some people whispered behind his back as he passed them, but that wasn't exactly new. As he made his way through the portrait of the Great Lady, somebody called on him from the common room.

"Harry! What happened?" shrieked Ginny in high pitch, with a worried expression on her face, pointing toward his head. Harry felt his ears twitch from the irritating sound she made. Headache, just the thing he missed. Harry hoped he could get away from her soon.

"Nothing, just a bit of accident trying out a new spell. Don't worry about it, I'm fine." answered Harry dismissively and hurriedly continued on his way. She was shouting back something about Pomfrey, but he wasn't listening, already taking stairs up by two. Sooner he got away, the better. And as a plus, she wasn't Hermione, so he wouldn't have to fret about her stomping right behind him.

Weird. It almost seemed like there was a number floating above her head. Eh, whatever. Either it was her spell, a prank of sorts, or he was just seeing things. In any case, he had different things to care about than her.

Harry went to the bathroom and washed his face. Thankfully, it was just a shallow cut here and there, nothing serious. There was less blood than he expected. Placing his glasses back onto his face, Harry looked into a mirror mildly miffed. Something wasn't quite right. The picture of his face was odd. What was it? The scar? It was there as usual. Hair? Still the mess. Harry observed carefully and finally noticed it. The glasses were slightly different shape, with less volume overall, and their oval shape, nearly round, gave up to a more angular, sharper look. They certainly weren't his own. How? Where did he pick these up?

The Room. He must have taken different ones by mistake. He wasn't even aware the Room could give items on a whim or a vague fleeting need. There wasn't any other explanation about where the switch had happened. His glasses were literary off his face then. Was his need for glasses so great that the room provided them instead of his own? If he was more clear-headed after the impact, he could have simply tried to summon them, even though he just discovered it. Oh, and clear himself up while he was still in the room. The hindsight is a terrible thing; it reminded him of all the situations he handled poorly or plainly wrong. He could have done so many things differently if he knew better.

To be honest, the glasses looked rather stylish, and he was actually seeing better with them. It wasn't a huge difference, but the things he looked at were more clear now. Even details of his face. Eww, he had more pimples than he thought, and was those blackheads on his nose? Oh joy. What was what Vernon called it again, puberty? He hoped wizards wouldn't get those, but as usual, his hopes were squashed soundly.

New look aside, he would definitely keep them. They looked better on his face than Vernon's second hand found for sure. Well, as if Vernon would ever spend money on Harry so he would look good. The sound of the door opening interrupted his budding narcissistic thoughts.

"Hey Harry. You okay?" asked Neville carefully. Why was he there?

"Hmm, what?" asked Harry eloquently, confused.

"Eh- Ginny asked me to check on you." elaborated Neville. "I heard someone smashed your head?" asked Neville curiously after. What the hell? That did not happen, not at all. Is this how the rumors start? He wouldn't be surprised.

"Nope. I had a minor issue with testing a new spell. A piece of stone roughed my head a little, but I'm fine now. See? Don't worry about it." tried to dissuade further probing Harry, showing him the cut on his face that had already stopped bleeding.

"If you say so. You should check that with Madam Pomfrey, anyway." advised Neville. Harry had no intention of doing so, but kept that to himself.

"Sure, sure. I'll go if I have any problems." answered Harry. Maybe he should go after all. Check for concussions or hallucinations. He was seeing a floating number quite clearly now. It was shining with a pale blue light on top of Neville's head, displaying number 14. Odd. It was Neville's age, but why would that number show that and why? All he was left were more questions as Neville went away and left Harry alone in the bathroom, pondering about it.

-o-

It was more than the oddity. By now, he was seeing floating numbers above heads of many people around, assuming they were close enough. Harry changed his opinion on the floating numbers. He was reasonably sure it didn't show ages, but something else. Still, there were limits, maybe about 3 or so meters around Harry. Outside of this range, no more numbers. Also, Harry felt fine. Maybe even better than fine. His usual eye strain to see clearly was gone. That offered an obvious conclusion.

Must have been the glasses. That explanation made the most amount of sense. He would have a hard time testing it though, because taking them down was not a valid option. Sure, he would see the numbers no more, but also every other feature on the faces of the students. Making a blur of everything didn't exactly help and depending on how close, not even recognizing the faces. This test was entirely inconclusive. He would have to look particularly close above the head of someone, without his glasses, and without it looking like he was a weirdo and a creep. That would be tough. How was he going to achieve that? Then a brilliant and dumb idea at the same time struck him like a lightning. Instead of that, he could try to fetch his old ones. That would also work.

Leaving future comparison aside for a moment, Harry was more interested at the connotation of what the numbers could mean? Most people he went past in the hallway were pretty low, barely past zero. Some went around ten at most and he had seen 17 on some girl from higher year. But people he knew better had higher numbers, much higher. Ginny was sitting at a solid 64, highest he had seen so far. Harry quietly contemplated about it, in the history class, when he had nothing else to do, of course. Nobody paid attention in this class. Well, maybe except for her. Glancing toward his left, he saw an attentive Hermione writing notes, with 57 floating above her head. The second highest number he has seen so far.

Ron was sitting too far away to check his own, but Harry had no need. He was with Dean and Seamus, quietly whispering about something. Harry wasn't able to look at his number now but he passed him earlier at the entrance of this classroom and Ron's number showed only 11. Still marginally more than the boys he sat with, but it was odd that even Neville had slightly more. What could Ginny and Hermione have more of, then practically all the rest of the students he met so far? It couldn't be magical power, right?

It wasn't until the end of the class he got the first clue about what these numbers could represent.

Harry dragged Hermione off to the side and entered one of the adjacent abandoned classrooms. He had to speak with her alone, without anyone bothering them. About the upcoming task, dragons, Sirius, everything. He couldn't deal with the pressure all alone and just keep going. He needed her. It was now or never. The task was next week, after all.

He really wanted some advice, or at least talk about it with someone, maybe get a second opinion, anything. All he had was a haphazard bundle of spells that might or might not work, even if he could cast them successfully. And hell, Harry only achieved to cast successfully just a few. Poorly used spells might equally exhaust him immensely instead. Trying to overpower the highly magically resistant dragon was no joke. He mentioned most of the spells he found and his training, too. They talked together for a long time, and Harry was glad to have her back after the strain within the past weeks. Hermione offered her help immediately and was already making a list of spells that should be usable against the dragons and those that were unlikely to help based on what she and Harry knew about them. She was going to research them in detail later in the library, of course. Harry was honestly relieved that Hermione asked nothing about the books Harry found in the Room as they disappeared into the thin air when he moved past the room. Not the glasses, though, oddly enough.

Harry mentioned nearly everything, even names of the curses he got from these books. All except the Room and his new glasses. Especially the glasses. Why was he so secretive about them? As if revealing it was making him nearly physically ill. Was he cursed? No. He was surely just paranoid. Harry was going to figure it out, and he was going to do it himself. Prove that he wasn't dumb and that he could do stuff even without Hermione two steps ahead of him every time. And he hoped she kept her focus on the Task and help him there, not run off on a tangent about this brilliant room and what everything it could do, and how his glasses were dangerous and-. His imagination was cut short as Hermione demanded his full attention once again.

"I've been meaning to ask, have you changed your glasses, Harry?" asked Hermione suddenly after staring too long into his face. Harry was mentally panicking. He did not want to mention his glasses were of questionable origin and wanted to avoid talking about Room, Dobby, all of it.

"Yes. Sirius send me those. They are great." answered Harry, a bit too woodenly for his liking. He didn't sound genuine at all. What the heck was he doing? It was the first idea that came into his mind, trying to diverge the attention. It was a pretty weak excuse, to be honest. He wasn't ready to tell and lie about where he found them. With his rather innocent lie, he created an additional problem. What if Hermione asked Sirius about it? Well, trouble for the future Harry, he would deal with it when that happened.

"Really? What do they do?" asked Hermione with a suspicious glint in her eyes. Harry's tension visibly dropped as she believed him. At least he hoped so.

"Any magical effects? Oh, do they have runes? Charms on them? Could you see through the walls? Maybe they help to read quicker?" barraged him Hermione with several questions, Harry unable to break a word in as she closed in on him.

"Show me!" exclaimed Hermione full of vigor, yanked them from his face and suddenly Harry found himself near blind the second day in a row. He opened his mouth, but no word escaped his lips. Harry glimpsed the top of Hermione's head, losing the number along with the focus. Fuzzy Hermione's mane was still there, but the floating number wasn't. Realization hit Harry. So the glasses were behind the numbers, after all.

"Hmm, I don't see any engraving on the sides. Nothing on the rims, either. Are you sure they-?" Hermione paused her voice mid-speech. If Harry saw her face right now, he would see her eyes widening.

"Ah. Sorry." Hermione apologized out of nowhere.

"I should have asked first. Here, take them back. Sorry again." muttered Hermione apologetically as she carefully handed the glasses into Harry's open palm.

"It's okay. I was just surprised." said Harry back at her. He truly was more surprised than angry at her. Still, it wasn't nice of her, taking them without asking.

"I was so excited-" started to say Hermione, but Harry interrupted her thoughts.

"If you want, you can try them on. Maybe you will see something I don't about the enchantments?" threw out Harry after getting the idea. Perhaps Hermione would see the numbers as well? It was worth the shot. Something was screaming at the top of his head to not do it, but he extinguished the thought. He could trust Hermione. What's the worst thing that could happen?

"Ah!" screamed Hermione as she put the glasses on. Then Harry more of felt then saw them tumble off to the ground. Somewhere. He heard a noticeable crack as they bumped to the cold, hard floor and skidded along.

"The glasses shocked me! That does it! The next time I see Sirius I'll seriously pay him back for this prank!" huffed Hermione indignantly, only then realizing what she had done to Harry's glasses. Not apologizing again, she went and gingerly picked up the now grounded glasses. No more shocks for her, thankfully.

"At least now you know, they are decently resistant to fall damage, among other things." nervously said Heroine, fidgeting on the place as Harry put the glasses back on. They worked fine for Harry. What was it that rejected Hermione just now, and why?

Harry wasn't sure what to think, but he wasn't angry at Hermione about the glasses. Especially when she looked so hilarious now. She had red lines painted all over her face, following the past contour of the glasses themselves. Hermione looked so funny, like masquerading for an owl, badly. It was simply hilarious.

"Buhaha!" Harry burst into a full laughing fit, unable to hold it in with just a snicker.

"What is it?" asked Hermione cluelessly, looking behind her and Harry could only point at her face and laugh some more.

"If you are not going to talk, so be it. I have places to be…" continued Hermione as Harry was still unable to respond due to his laughing fit.

"Like searching on the information you told me, you know, just for your First Task!" shouted Hermione angrily as she pushed the door to the room open and shut it with great force.

*slam*

With that sound, Harry woke from his laughing fit. He also heard someone shouting a muffled "jerk" right behind the door. He really saw something strange here. The glasses seemingly refused to be worn by anyone else if the shock was to be believed. That, and Hermione's number changed. It has risen to 59 when they were talking, but when she fled away, it dropped to 56. The question was, why?

Author's note:
There was less talk than I intended at the start of this chapter, but I had nothing substantial to add or change with Harry's talk with Hermione about the task and Sirius from the canon, so I left that out.

Guessing continues. Only one correct guess so far from 2 readers. I will count it toward the 3 required votes. Both of them can try again in this chapter.

Numbers to pick from are: 3,7,13,21,37,42,69,127. Pair them with the girl you think is hidden behind the number from the picture to reveal her image.

Tip for this round. The numbers truly do not represent magical power and are indicating something else. If you want to read about magical power creeping numbers… May I introduce you to Artificer Potter? The entire name of that fic is: Harry Potter and the Artificer Legacy, written by Kairomaru. You can check that out.

The next update will be probably on Friday. Until then.