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Stand Tall - The Rise of Harry Potter
Chapter VI
Unforgivable
Golden liquid oozed temptingly over the perfectly cooked pancake, magically kept at just the right temperature - all thanks to the elves, Hermione made sure to remind them but mercifully, ate them anyway. The hubbub surrounding the first breakfast back at Hogwarts was subdued and Harry realised that most of the other common rooms must have held similar festivities to his own. The larger part of the cohort were as utterly engrossed in their breakfast as Ron was - even Harry was eating steadily, despite how distracted he felt.
His eyes found their way to the back of Luna Lovegood's head once more, and he couldn't help the frown of consternation that found its way to his face. Something about the girl last night felt deeply wrong to him. Unsettling, despite the fact that he couldn't really pinpoint why. Of course, the girl disappearing was a mystery in and of itself, but that kind of thing came part and parcel with exploring Hogwart's famed corridors by night - it was part of the reason Harry loved it so much.
No, there was more to Luna Lovegood than just her vanishing act - he was certain of it.
"Harry, is something the matter?" Hermione queried from across the table, clearly worried. Harry appreciated the thought, and nearly told her what he had seen, but for some reason held himself back. On the surface of things, it was the perfect thing to ask for Hermione's help with - deny it she might, but the girl loved a good mystery just as much as he did. Something about that idea however, didn't sit right with him.
"Not at all." He said, pushing a smile onto his face to reassure his friend. "Looking forward to defence first thing?" He asked, moving the conversation on quickly. Ron picked then to interject.
"Mad-eye Moody's supposed to be nuts." He said idly, dishing himself several more rashers of bacon - the idea appealed to Harry and he did the same. "But Dad always said that in the last war - no-one caught more death eaters than he did. He's supposed to be incredible at defence. Hell of a lot better than Lockhart I'd say." His face pinched strangely when he said Lockhart's name, as though he was tasting something incredibly sour.
"As long as he prepares us well enough for our OWLS next year - among other things - I'll be happy." Hermione added, fixing the boys with a significant look when she mentioned other things. Harry resisted the reflex to nervously put a hand against his unusually quiet scar, expecting pain to come just from referencing the dark wizard. Ron had stopped chewing his bacon. They all knew how seriously they needed to take Defense Against the Dark Arts this year.
"Shall we meet tonight, Hermione?" Harry asked.
"I have a place and a plan ready." She replied briskly, nodding. "It's as good a night as any."
Harry nodded grimly, catching Luna drifting out of the Great Hall in the corner of his eye. Her entire countenance by day was different to how it been the prior night. She still held a dream-like quality to her expression, but now it was lucid, like she was actually aware of what was going on around her. He noticed that, once more, she didn't have shoes and he felt his eyes narrow defensively on her behalf.
Impulse drove him as he stood, eyes focused in on Kevin Entwhistle - the only Ravenclaw he knew even vaguely.
"Harry?" Hermione queried, startled by his sudden movement.
"I'll be back in a moment, Hermione." He was too short for the girl to take that as casually as he really wanted, but he would deal with whatever inquisition she would begin when it came to it. For now, he was allowing an ever building anger drive his actions perhaps a little too much.
"Kevin." The sandy-haired boy turned sharply, surprised by the briskness of Harry's tone, and the fact that Harry Potter was actually speaking to somebody not in Gryffindor. "A word please - outside." They had the whole of Ravenclaw's attention now, but Harry paid it no mind. Kevin blinked owlishly, but nodded his assent and followed him regardless out of the main doors, and rounded a corner for added privacy.
"What's the problem, Potter?" Kevin asked, the walk obviously giving him a chance to adjust to the situation, and apparently a little put off by Harry's tone.
"Nothing with you, as far as I'm aware." Harry started, trying to make sure he didn't get the boy's back up, despite his own feelings. "Luna Lovegood - what's her story?" There was that owlish blink again, the conversation veering wildly away from Kevin's expectations once more.
"Err- I don't really know her to be honest. People think she's a little weird I suppose, but being a muggleborn, she's about as strange as your average wizard to be perfectly honest."
"And the lack of shoes today?" He pressed, fairly confident now that Kevin at least, was not involved in what he feared was going on.
"Ah." The boy responded. He may not be involved - but he was aware of something going on. Kevin looked supremely uncomfortable now, and Harry guessed that he would rather be anywhere else talking about any thing else. "I don't know any names but there's a selection of girls in the house across a few year groups that don't think she belongs in her house - that she isn't... conventionally academic enough." He sighed, looking anywhere else besides directly at Harry. "From what I can tell, they take her things and hide them, write mean stuff on her homework. The whole muggle 'bully' stereotype."
Harry's entire demeanor was threatening now, tense, as though ready to lash out. Kevin knew nothing about Harry Potter really - he was quiet, a bit stand-offish. Always seemed to be involved but never directly the cause of trouble. Well, now Kevin knew something for certain. The-Boy-Who-Lived really didn't like bullies.
"No-one's done anything?" He ground out, and Kevin quickly shook his head.
"She won't accept any help - just says a whole bunch of weird stuff about narbles or something." He paused, as the girl in question left the hall, several books in hand heading towards the library, before adding. "Cho Chang - the year above us - went to Flitwick about it in Luna's first year. Luna denied it was even going on. None of us really know what to do about it, to be honest."
Harry fumed at the lack of a resolution, but knew full well what it was like to be in Luna's, well, shoes. Everything he found out about the girl added another layer of mystery to the whole affair, and the fact that he hated what was happening her but could do nothing about it was really not helping calm his frustration.
"Are you going to try and find out who's doing it?" Kevin asked, and Harry's head jerked towards Kevin in surprise. "It's just..." Kevin paused, suddenly unsure of himself under the fresh scrutiny. "It seems to me that whenever something major is happening, you seem to play a part in sorting it out. No-one knows exactly what happened in second year - but everyone knows it was you who rescued Weasley when she went missing. Plus there's that whole business in first year with Professor Quirrell... I dunno, I just thought you of all people would be able to help her." To be truthful, Kevin hadn't thought this at all as they started this conversation. Seeing his reaction to Luna's treatment - indignation and anger on behalf of someone else like that couldn't be faked. Harry bloody Potter was stood here making sure a girl he had never met from a different house was okay, and was beyond angry that he had found out she wasn't.
On this evidence - and good Ravenclaws prided themselves on thinking based upon evidence - Harry Potter was good people. Even with this small amount of proof, Kevin was more inclined to believe some of the more favorable versions of the stories regarding Harry Potter's time at Hogwarts.
"I'll - I'll try, Kevin. If Luna asks me to stop, I'll have to respect her wishes, but at the same time - I really do hate bullies." Just the word brought about images in Harry's mind of his fat pig of a cousin and the particularly niche sport 'Harry Hunting'.
"Thank you - I really mean it. Trying is more that most of Ravenclaw has done for one of our own - myself included." Harry nodded somberly in response.
"Thanks for the info, Kevin. I'll do what I can."
Harry Potter walked away, back into the castle itself to prepare for his first period. Kevin Entwhistle returned to Ravenclaw table, bringing fresh evidence as to the nature of Harry James Potter.
Mad-Eye Moody's first lesson as Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor was, well, mad.
Quite frankly, Harry didn't think he would encounter one of the Unforgivables until Voldemort's return, where Harry would have to learn to defend himself from them for real. Moody proved him horrifically wrong, as he took the class on a borderline sickening tour of the three taboo curses as seen through the eyes of an arachnid. The spider suffered through the imperious curse - designed to control a person; the torture curse, Cruciatus; and finally, the one that Harry often saw when he dreamed of his mother - the sickly green killing curse.
The class were still recovering from seeing the spider draw it's final breath, when Moody announced his special dispensation to perform the curses extended to upon the children themselves. One by one they were put under the Imperious Curse by Moody and were made to do things that resulted in varying degrees of humiliation. Until of course, they got to Harry. Harry heard Moody's voice, just as everybody had been describing. He felt the calming sensation, putting him at ease and forcing him to lower his guard. He even felt the almost irresistible urge to do exactly as he was being instructed.
Except Harry could resist. It took some effort, but Harry found he was able to completely refuse to do what Moody wanted. The second time the ex auror tried, it took a little less work - the third, was easy. Moody gave him a look that Harry couldn't read, before patting him firmly on the back and awarding him twenty points for resisting his curse.
As they left for a free period, Harry noticed Moody keep Neville back. The man had obviously noticed the same thing the Harry himself had - Neville's intense discomfort - moreso than any of them - during the demonstration of the Cruciatus Curse. Thinking quickly, Harry told Ron and Hermione that he would meet them later as he too wanted to have a word with Moody about his scar. The other two, understanding of the sensitivity of the topic, left him to it and Harry was free to wait for Neville. He wanted to keep this conversation as private as possible.
Before long, the messy haired Longbottom emerged from Moody's room, clutching a book and looking incredibly flustered.
"Everything okay, Nev?" Harry asked easily, as Neville took on a look akin to a rabbit gazing at the car hurtling towards it.
"I- Professor Moody wanted to talk to me about my parents, that's all - he knew them when they were still-" Neville stopped, suddenly looking morose. "He knew them." He finished glumly.
Harry put a hand on Neville's shoulder, but said nothing. Harry knew better than most that Neville wouldn't appreciate being pushed right now. A few moments passed, and Harry was proven right to wait.
"It still seems weird to me that I talk about them in the past tense when they're not actually gone." Neville said, awkwardly slouched over, his entire body downcast. Harry tried not to look too surprised - he had no idea that Neville's parents were still alive. He had always just assumed he and Neville were in the same boat. "It's just that the bits that are important are. Tortured away by that- that curse."
Harry found that his mouth dried up as he tried to imagine himself in Neville's shoes. Parents not dead, but not really alive either. He didn't know the details really, but Harry supposed they must be at a wizarding equivalent of a mental institution. Lockhart had supposedly ended up in the long term spell damage ward at St Mungos, so perhaps they were there. Did they even recognise Neville? Just how far gone were they? At least Harry had no sliver of hope to cling on to that his parents would be back one day. No shadow constantly just over his shoulder.
Neville Longbottom might just be a stronger person than any of them.
"Dad was an auror you know - apparently he was amazing to watch with a wand. Mum too, though Gran talks about her much less." Neville looked a strange combination of wistful and embarrassed as he spoke about his parents, and Harry wondered if he was the first person his age he had spoken to about this. "I'm using Dad's wand now - I'm, erm, not really following his example with it though."
Harry couldn't stand it any longer. He spoke finally, before Neville could bring himself down even more. "Everyone's different though, Neville. You're Dad might have been good at certain things - but so are you. I've never known Professor Sprout to be as excited to have someone in her class as she is you - you're a natural." Harry paused as Neville blushed faintly, before carrying on. "That said, Me, Ron and Hermione are starting a little Defense Against the Dark Arts practice group. It was going to be just the three of us - you want in?" Hope bloomed in Neville's eyes, and Harry could spot the moment he quashed it.
"I couldn't, I wouldn't want to impose."
"If you would be imposing, I wouldn't have invited you. It's just going to be some friends practicing some spells and getting better together. You're my friend Neville, so you'll fit in just fine." Harry said with some finality.
For a few moments, Neville didn't look like he knew how to respond, but eventually he smiled softly. "I think I'd like that Harry. Thanks."
Ardentus Valdi. Nasty piece of work really, depending on the intent you cast it with. It created sores on a person's body - all over - that burned deeply. It could be incredibly painful, or just very sore and irritating but either way it was borderline dark magic. Harry noted it down out of Noland's Compendium of Offensive Magicks anyway, wand movement, description and counter curse. It wasn't the most useful in a fight - the wand movement was a touch too finicky, and casting it with any degree of control or precision was harder than other spells that were equally effective at distracting opponents or creating openings to attack. Really, it was more of a vindictive spell for when you're catching somebody off guard.
It was however obscure and uncommon enough that if he could cast it, his opponent would likely not be able to perform the counter curse.
He cast an eye upwards, making eye contact with the hawk-like Madame Pince. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously but did nothing, though refused to look away. Harry was using a rather expensive and valuable tome for his research, and Pince was ensuring he looked after it properly. To roll his eyes was to invite trouble, but he was sorely tempted anyway.
Pince's eyes flashed suddenly in a different direction and found a new target, and Harry was spared from resisting his temptation any longer. Blaise Zabini was the new victim, a lanky Slytherin with a dark complexion who Harry had heard speak maybe three words in total. Ever. He too, had a well aged, presumably unspeakably valuable volume to hand, and was studying it intently. He most likely had felt Pince's gaze upon him, and was doing a phenomenal job of ignoring it; studiously carrying on his study alone.
Harry stood and started walking, taking his scribbled notes and copy of Noland's with him, before he had even really realised what he was about to do.
"Zabini."
"Potter." The git hadn't even looked up.
"Mind if I sit here?" He asked, gesturing idly at the empty second seat at Zabini's table.
Now he looked. Calculating grey eyes met Harry's own, and for a minute they were locked there, as Zabini's gears turned. "Why?"
"Well, we were both working alone, maybe we could combine our minds and get things done a little quicker." Zabini wasn't really one of Malfoy's crowd depsite him being with that group on the train, and passed on the opportunity to throw an insult - a good sign.
"I'm working on Ancient Runes." The boy said shortly. The point was clear - I'm working on something that you couldn't help me with.
"I've always been curious," Harry pursued slowly. He wasn't exactly sure why he was trying quite so hard to make this work. When Mr Weasley had suggested to make more friends, Harry knew full well he hadn't meant he needed to try and make them in Slytherin. "Would you possibly be able to get me started enough to self study?"
"Ask Granger."
"Are you insane, Zabini? You have heard Hermione talk about magic, right? I wanted a few pointers and a nudge in the right direction - not to be slowly suffocated under an evergrowing pile of Runes textbooks."
Blaise's mouth tweaked at the corners despite his cool facade. "Sit, Potter." Harry sat with a grin, and no sooner had he gotten his things placed and looked up than he was met by calculated smirk - something akin to a spider who has just caught a fly in his intricate webbing. "I hear you're not bad at defense, despite the atrocious instruction at this school. Quid pro quo, Potter."
Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud in the deathly silent library, disrupting several groups of students working, and enraging the librarian. Zabini had known what he wanted out of him, even as he was letting Harry persuade Blaise to allow him to sit on the same table. Cliche didn't even begin to cover just how Slytherin that had been.
Still, Harry couldn't quite help the fact that, as much as the 'Ron' side of him didn't want to admit it, Harry was certain that he and Blaise could be friends somewhere down the line.
Obviously, Harry agreed to help Blaise with whatever problems he was having with defense as best he could. In return, Blaise left the table briefly, returning with several books.
"Ancient Runes as a subject is both fairly simple, and incredibly dry. The school curriculum until we complete our OWLs is almost entirely based around translating ancient runic languages, and learning the magical properties of the most basic. If you're looking to take the class, Spellman's Syllabary and Advanced Runes cover most of what you'll need to catch up." Blaise pushed the books at him, and Harry noted that he already owned Advanced Runes courtesy of Remus. Blaise seemed to hesitate before sliding another set of books his way. "However, I assume some in your position would have more of an extra-curricular interest in the subject."
Combat Warding: A Compendium, Thieves of the North - The Protections of the Vikingr and a particularly worn copy of a book called Golinard's Field Cursebreaking Manual compiled by a wizard referred to only as J'bern; were now sat in front of him, and harry raised an eyebrow at Blaise questioningly.
"My position?"
Blaise rolled his eyes - the actual motion was minute, but the sarcasm still hung heavy in the air between them. "My mother has warned me that the winds are changing once more in the wizarding world, and you are pretty intent on getting yourself killed with or without the Dark Lord's help."
That was probably a fair point from a Slytherin point of view. Harry would never be able to operate on a favour for a favour basis - no matter how dangerous the thing he was doing was. He didn't want to concede the point however, so simply changed the subject.
"What was it you were needing in defense then?"
"My knowledge of the theory is more than sufficient. My spellcasting however, is bordering on the embarrassing. I'm hoping that this agreement will go some way towards rectifying that."
Harry frowned in thought. "I have a few ideas, but we'll need to meet, and I'll take it you don't fancy spending time learning with Ron or Hermione, so my first suggestion is immediately off the cards. Pick a time and a place Zabini, and I'll see what I can do to help you out - fair's fair and everything."
"Fine. Study the first paragraph of Norse Runes in Advanced Runes - be comfortable translating at least six or seven by then. We'll see how you cope with anything else after that." Harry just looked confused. "You really thought that I was going to make you work on my spellcasting with me in exchange for some books that Pince could have recommended to you? I'm a Slytherin, not a bastard Potter - see you at our first meeting."
Harry hadn't even noticed Blaise gathering his things, but he had, and was halfway across the room before Harry could even formulate a response. Suppressing a smirk, Harry started packing up his things as well. He had some time before transfiguration, and he wanted to make good on his promise to look into Luna's situation.
Across the room, in a slightly darker corner and unbeknownst to Harry, Ron and Hermione watched him leave.
"What the hell is he doing Hermione?" Ron hissed darkly, narrowed eyes never leaving Harry's retreating back. "Zabini is a Slytherin!"
"I'm aware, Ron. Personally, I think it's about time some of us realised that not all Slytherins are like Malfoy - the sorting hat keeps singing about inter-house unity, it's about time somebody started making it happen."
"But Slytherin Hermione. It's one thing to talk to a Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, but hanging out with a Slytherin? No thank you. Everybody says that wasn't a wizard who ever went dark that wasn't Slytherin - there's just something about that house that you can't trust."
"Peter Pettigrew was in Gryffindor Ron - you know, the man who betrayed Harry's parents, joined Voldemort, killed thirteen people and framed Harry's godfather. Not to mention transformed into a rat and lived at your house for a decade. Not all Gryffindors are good, not all Slytherins are evil."
Ron didn't argue the point, but he continued seething. That was his best friend, getting all pally with a Slytherin of all people. It wasn't right in Ron's eyes - the Weasley didn't want Harry getting caught up with the likes of them. Harry had been through enough without making friends that would one day betray him. He wouldn't argue with Harry, but he cared too much to let something like that happen to his best friend.
Daisy Betteridge crept stealthily along the corridors not a ten minute walk from the entrance to Ravenclaw common room. Most had long gone to bed, and Daisy knew full well that Snape stalked the corridors around the Gryffindor common room more than anywhere else. The worst she had to compete with was Mrs Norris and Filch - but that should be fine, as long as she was careful and fast.
The castle was starting to get terribly cold in the halls at night - Hogwarts: A History details how the warming charms that warms the castle are lowered in strength as the sun sets in unessential places to preserve power and Daisy could see her breath cloud out around her mouth as she walked as swiftly as she could to her first destination. One of the castle's many suits of armour stood a little ways down the corridor she was moving through, torchlight reflections holding merry festivities upon it's surface.
She stopped in front of it, deftly sliding open its helmet's mouthpiece and stuffing a bundle of Hogwarts robes inside. Smirking, she slid the armour shut again and set off through the castle once more, pausing briefly a few minutes later to apply a sticking charm to a shoe and banish into the tall Hogwarts ceiling.
The items in question belonged to Luna Lovegood, Ravenclaw third year and house pariah come shameful secret.
Simply put, the girl was not fit to wear their uniform. She floated about the place, blathering her nonsense about creatures that only existed in her and father's empty little heads. Ravenclaw was a proud house of logic, reason and intelligence; and Loony Lovegood possessed none of those qualities. So her and some of the other older students had taken upon themselves to persuade her to leave the school.
The girl couldn't even take the hint.
Daisy withdrew her next item with some considerable relish. It was one of the girl's more ridiculous items of clothing. An awful mockery of a necklace constructed out of cheap gemstones prized by muggles and butterbeer corks. The girl damn near never took the thing off, but in a moment of brilliance, Daisy had managed to hit it with a rather perfectly cast switching spell. It was time to really make things clear and with a simple painting charm, Daisy began to scrawl the words Loony Lovegood Not Welcome Here in clashing multi-coloured writing, and sticking the necklace to the wall just below before preparing the pièce de résistance.
She aimed her wand at the necklace.
"Reduct-"
Her curse was cut short as she felt a cold jab of wood in the back of her neck, the easily recognised tip of a wand.
"Who on earth is-"
"Ardentus Valdi."
Daisy Betteridge was aware of nothing else but horrible, burning pain under her skin, almost immediately sending her sprawling to her knees as she tried in vain to stop the sensation of her flesh boiling under her skin. She writhed for an eternity consisting of a few moments, before a quiet whisper of "stupefy" ended her suffering.
