Merry Christmas! Have a (late) chapter.

Chapter 15- An interactive introduction to ancient history

"Good morning class. My name is professor Velvet and…" Upon hearing his name, one of the brutish looking Slytherin boys began to guffaw. Waver Velvet uncorked something beneath his robes and a silver liquid poured out onto the floor. It formed a large ring around the professor's feet and rippled unnaturally when he spoke an inaudible word. Then, in the blink of an eye, long and narrow spikes formed and perforated the area around the chuckling boy. The spikes remained in place for a moment before retracting and becoming a pool at the professor's feet once more. There was dead silence in the classroom.

"As I was saying before being so rudely interrupted, my name is professor Velvet and I am an associate professor from London's Clock Tower Institute. If you do not know what that is or why it is significant, that's fine, you'll be learning about it this afternoon. Now I am here to teach you all history, both magical and mundane. I am sure that some of you have older siblings who have told tales of professor Bins the Boring, a ghost who did nothing but prattle on about goblin rebellions and repeated the exact same lesson every year for every grade word-for-word. You will not need to worry about things being boring with me in charge."

Several students shivered involuntarily. The rest remained silent and motionless, so professor Velvet continued: "History, in its earliest days, made no distinction between magical or mundane, or even between wizards and magi." A Ravenclaw student raised his hand- it was only shaking a little. "Yes, I will explain that distinction later. I am aware that many of you don't know much, if anything, about magi. Be patient. Now, as I was saying, the world was in turmoil and many gods reigned supreme. This period was aptly known as the Age of Gods. We will be covering much of this time period this year, starting with the earliest known myths and legends and continuing on until about 500 B.C. with the rise of the Persian Empire."

The silver puddle by the professor's feet began to ripple once more, causing the class to collectively flinch, before taking the form of what appeared to be a maid. Waver handed it a stack of papers and it (she?) began to distribute them to the students who accepted the sheets hesitantly.

"Now, if I just stood here and lectured you all day, you wouldn't learn a thing. Lecture and 11 year olds…" There was a shout from someone in the room of "I'm 12!" Waver leveled a glare at the child causing them to quail, then cleared his throat and continued, "11 and 12 year olds just does not mix. You will find it boring and learn absolutely nothing. So, we will be very interactive. Much of what we know of this early period in human history comes in the form of various myths and legends. We will be acting them out. Now, many of them can be rather explicit, so we will be toning those parts down. It wouldn't do for your parents, or the other professors, to become angry with me on my first day would it?" There was a smattering of nervous laughter and one cry of "No, don't censor the good bits!"

"All right, we will be starting with the Epic of Gilgamesh, the earliest known written story. It tells the tale of Gilgamesh, king of Uruk, who lived at about the same time as the Egyptians built their first pyramid. Now before I go any farther, I need a volunteer to play the role of king Gilgamesh."

Waver surveyed the room. No one volunteered.

"Very well then. You, blond Slytherin kid," Malfoy stood up and pointed to himself looking surprised, "Yes you. You look the part. Come on down here."

As Malfoy made his way down to the professor, said professor drew back the curtain showing a large stage with numerous props on it.

"What is your name?"

"Draco Malfoy, sir."

"Very well Malfoy. You are, for the rest of this class, Gilgamesh. Go put on the crown and the golden breastplate. Now," he continued, turning back to the rest of the class, "while Gilgamesh equips himself, allow me to set the stage for this story. King Gilgamesh was the strongest person on the surface of the Earth. He was two-thirds divine and no one could stand up against his might. The world was his plaything, and he believed that everything in it ultimately belonged to him. It didn't matter if someone else had it, if he saw something he wanted, he would take it. He was arrogance personified."

Malfoy had finished putting on his costume and had even found a red cape to go with it. Turning to him, Waver gave him some instructions, "Gilgamesh, strut arrogantly around the stage. No, not like that, more arrogance, more swagger. Puff up your chest and put a condescending sneer on your face. The whole world is beneath you and you know it! That's better. Just keep that up for a little while as I continue to narrate the story.

"Now Gilgamesh, being supremely arrogant and unable to be stopped, was a terrible tyrant and greatly oppressed his people. You four," Waver said, pointing at three Gryffindor boys and a girl. "You are the people of Uruk who are being oppressed. Come down to the stage, and each of you take a few pieces of the treasure," there was a box full of cheap jewelry and a few bits and pieces of armor. "Now Gilgamesh, you cannot be stopped and are their rightful ruler, so take what you want from them! It is yours. You four, be oppressed and cower in fear!"

Malfoy strutted over to them, pushed them around a bit with a sneer as they cowered, then took a gold chain necklace, putting it on while saying "This belongs to me you mongrels!"

"Perfect! You're spot on with his character. Now, the gods saw Gilgamesh oppressing his people and decided to do something about it, so they created a wild man named Enkidu. Gilgamesh and cowering citizens of Uruk, can you go stand over on the right side of the stage? Thank you. Who wants to be Enkidu?" A Ravenclaw boy put up his hand. "Very well, come on down."

"Enkidu was wild and uncivilized. He ran around with the wild animals and foiled the hunters. He broke down fences and released cattle and was over all a nuisance to the people of Uruk." As he was saying this his volunteer (who Harry would later learn was named Henry) ran around the stage crazily making sounds like an ape.

"All right, next volunteer. I need a girl this time." Again, no volunteers. "Very well, you- Ravenclaw with the bushy hair who is attempting not to be noticed, come on down." Hermione stepped onto the stage, aghast. Being well-read, she knew what the next part was.

"You have been sent by the oppressed people of Uruk to befriend Enkidu, to teach him how to be civilized: how to talk, how to eat with silverware, how to read, that sort of thing. Think of yourself as being like Jane in Tarzan. When you have done so, you are to lead him back to Uruk to confront the out-of-control Gilgamesh." Hermione let out a breath in relief, and the lesson continued.

Lunch that day saw a very rare occurrence, one almost never before seen in the halls of Hogwarts: every first year student sat at the same table. The lessons they had just finished, the way they had been taught, and the things that had been implied made many of the class positively giddy with excitement. So, when a black Gryffindor student suggested that they all eat at his house's table so they could discuss the lesson, there were no objections (the Slytherins grumbled some, but went with the rest anyway). Teachers and students alike were shocked when five minutes later the crowd of firsties descended upon their target table like a voracious plague of locusts stripping the platters clear of food in what seemed to be seconds and forcibly relocating most of the table's original occupants elsewhere.

Their hunger temporarily sated, the devouring swarm switched its attention to other matters.

"So Harry, how do you know the professor?" Asked one of the other students who had visited Diagon Alley with Harry that day at the end of July. Harry thought his name was Thomas, but wasn't sure.

"Huh? You know the professor?" This time it was the redhead from the train. What was his name… Rob? Rod? Lon? Harry couldn't quite remember. He'd been introduced to so many new people in the past few days that their names just weren't sticking in his memory very well.

Glancing around Harry noticed that the entire class' attention was now on him. He fidgeted a little. Being in the spotlight like this made him somewhat uncomfortable. Taking a breath to calm his nerves, and tell himself that it was stupid to feel like this when he'd faced down far greater things like that dragon way back when or his teacher Lorelei after he'd gotten too caught up in playing around with Illya and forgotten to do his work. This was nothing! He opened his eyes… when had he closed them? And prepared to speak-

"Well Potter, what can you tell us about the professor? I must say it was a most enjoyable lesson." Malfoy cut him off before he even managed to begin. Looking sharply at the blond, Harry opened his mouth and was about to speak-

"Ooh! You must tell us! I've been dying to find out! He was all dark brooding and mysterious at Diagon Alley and now he's super cool? And what was with that silver maid thing? Was that a golem?" Hermione burst out, as she could contain her excitement and curiosity no longer. Harry deflated.

"Now, now, give the poor boy some space," Daphne spoke up. Harry gave her a grateful smile. He was about to start, again, when she looked him in the eyes and continued: "He's just a bit shy, that's all. It's just a bit of stage fright, nothing to be ashamed of. Completely normal for him to feel like that being crowded around by you lot." Harry's gratefulness shriveled up and died as he gave Daphne the fiercest glare he could manage while the table erupted into a cacophony of sound at her declaration. She was laughing at him behind her stoic façade, he could tell.

Giving his classmates a moment to settle down again, he began: "Well, I don't know professor Velvet very well personally, though I have heard good things about him. He's a rather new lecturer at the Clock Tower Institute, but he's already been proving himself quite adept at both research and teaching. I had known that he was here to tutor me in a subject I'm certain we will hear a lot about this afternoon, but am as surprised as the rest of you to see that he's our history professor."

"This Clock Tower Institute, what is it exactly? I've never heard of the place," a Ravenclaw boy asked.

"I'm not surprised since its members are rather reclusive. It is a center of mystical research and learning hidden in plain sight in London. If you aren't part of the organization and don't have the specific magical talents they are searching for, you'd never hear of it."

"So how do you know about it?" A Gryffindor boy with an Irish accent asked.

"I was raised by an… associate of the Institution and have been a member since I was 6."

"Oh? Is that usual?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. Usually one does not join the Clock Tower until they are an adult and are trained by their family before that. I'm only a member because I was taken on as apprentice by a prominent member of the institute due to my unusual circumstances. Enough about me," Harry continued changing the subject with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, "what did you all think of the class?"

Before they knew it, lunch was over and they were all filing back into the classroom excited to learn what their next lesson would be. Waver Velvet swept in behind them and took his place at the podium.

"We have two more periods together today. This morning we discussed history and I briefly mentioned that there are two major branches of magic: magecraft and wizardry. This afternoon we will be discussing my branch of magic- magecraft. I am a magus and I normally teach at the Clock Tower Institute which also happens to be the main branch and research institute of the Mages' Association, the worldwide governing body for those who practice magecraft. I am not capable of using the wizardry school of magic."

"A magus? What is one of your kind doing here?" A condescending voice interjected. It was Malfoy.

"You can thank Harry for that." All eyes turned to Harry, again.

"Harry, as you are most likely aware, was born to a family of wizards with the name Harry Potter," a few muffled gasps rang out. It seemed that much of the class had not been aware of that fact and now Harry was even more the center of attention. He could see the schadenfreude in his professor's expression and vowed vengeance.

"However," Waver continued after letting Harry stew in his discomfort for a moment, "he was not raised by wizards. Harry was raised by a very powerful magus and trained as a magus. His master- to whom he has been apprenticed to for five years- is one of the most powerful magi to live this century. In order to have Harry attend school here Dumbledore had to enter negotiations with the Clock Tower. My presence at this school is a direct result of said negotiations. If you object, you can take it up with either your headmaster or the Clock Tower's Vice Director."

"Now, our class this afternoon is titled 'Introduction to Magecraft'," Malfoy and some of his friends seemed very unhappy at this announcement. "We will start by learning about what magecraft is, the organization of the Association and its branches, the culture of those who practice magecraft, and some theory on how it works. In our second period we will be dealing with the practical portion of the course. Now most of you, perhaps even all of you, will be unable to use magecraft to any significant degree just as I am unable to use wizardry. For this reason, after today the second period of 'Introduction to Magecraft' will be voluntary. Magecraft is a difficult and dangerous discipline and if you don't have the aptitude there is absolutely no reason for you to stretch yourself thin by trying to learn yet another new subject. The first class, today's class, is mandatory as I need to test each of you for your potential."

"Wait, you can test someone for their potential? How does that work? Is it like forcing someone to use accidental magic?" A Ravenclaw girl asked.

"Yes, you can test someone for their potential, and no it is nothing like accidental magic. A magus' abilities and potential are set from birth. We have an extra set of metaphysical organs, which are partly physical and partially spiritual, which we call 'magic circuits'. These circuits are what allow for the generation and processing of the type of magical energy used in magecraft. Because they have a physical component, it is fairly easy to scan a person for their presence and determine both their quality and quantity. Should they prove to have ability in magecraft then they are checked for their element to see what type of magecraft they are capable of. You would all be at a major disadvantage compared to the typical magus as you would most likely be first-generation magi and thus have relatively few circuits of low quality and have to start from scratch. We will be performing both scans, as well as one to check for any additional special abilities known as sorcery traits, next class. I am unsure how these things influence wizardry but am certain that your element will have some sort of influence, which is why both will be performed regardless of your magecraft potential.

"Now, you must understand that magi are greedy for knowledge and hoard it. It is not freely given. The majority of a magus' abilities are based upon generations of research done by their family. Older families have more research and tend to have cultivated their abilities to a greater extent and thus are more powerful. They also have access to more powerful Magic Crests- sort of a physical embodiment of said research that is passed down from generation to generation.

"I understand that old families are also important to wizards. You may think that these are roughly equivalent. They are not. The main benefit to old wizarding lines is accumulated wealth. Through wealth they have power. Of course, there is more to it than that, but any sufficiently motivated and talented first-generation witch or wizard- what you all call a 'muggleborn'- can become as powerful as the patriarch to an ancient wizarding family. That can never happen to magus. I am only a 3rd-generation magus and no matter how clever or talented I am, there are hard limits to my abilities coded into my very soul. A member of an ancient and powerful family, such as a Barthomeloi like Harry's master, can never be defeated by a magus like myself. It may sound depressing, but that's just how it is for magi."

After a short break following the class, the students returned for the second period. There was already talk about whether they would or would not continue to take the class before any testing of potentials had been done. When they filed back in they found Harry and professor Velvet checking over three magic circles that had been drawn with a special chalk upon the stage. Once they were both satisfied with their quality, they turned to the class. Waver stood at the podium, and Harry on the stage over to the side.

"Welcome back. Harry will be my assistant when we deal with the practical class as he is already well-versed in magecraft. I will be asking you to come down to the stage one-by-one in alphabetical order. Simply stand in the center of the circle, one of us will activate it, and the scan will be complete in a few seconds. Once you have been through all three circles return to your seat. After you are all done, we will return the results to you and most of you will be dismissed early. Some of you, depending on the results of these tests, may be asked to remain here for further testing.

"Now first: Abbot, Hannah. Please make your way down and stand in the center of the circle to the left."

As the students filed down one-by-one they noticed that the color the second circle took was different for different people. It always began by lighting up white. Then the color would shift to something else- a red or blue or green or purple or something. Occasionally it would shift to multiple colors, and for one student the circle became a veritable rainbow. Following that Harry, who was in charge of the second and third circles, would say something cryptic like "interesting" or "huh, didn't expect that" and write on his notepad. Nearly an hour later and they had finally finished, many of the students were fidgeting about in their impatience. Malfoy was loudly stating to anyone that would listen that he already knew what his results were and that they were the best results.

Finally, Harry and Waver had finished conferring and began to pass out papers. There were many sounds of confusion or disappointment when students finally took a look at the results. Malfoy turned rather pink and snapped "None of your business!" when someone asked him if his results were, in fact, the best.

"If any of you have questions regarding their results, please either find and ask myself or Harry and we will explain them. I only teach class on Wednesdays and Saturdays so feel free to come find me whenever you want. You may see me from time to time observing various classes, but I can usually be found doing research in my workshop two rooms down from here. It is clearly marked."

"Professor, if you only teach on Wednesdays and Saturdays, who is teaching everyone else history?" A blond Gryffindor girl asked.

He turned toward her with the succinct reply of "A wizard" before turning back to the rest of the class. "Some of you have notes on your papers asking you to stay behind for more testing, please make sure that you do. As for the rest of you, be sure that you have decided whether to stick with this class or not by the end of the month. You can drop it immediately if you wish, but if you do you will be unable to rejoin us should you change your mind later. I…" he broke off with a suppressed grumble, another interruption. This time it was Daphne.

"Professor, what about if we wish to take the class, but do not have any potential for magecraft?"

Waver was surprised. He did not expect any students without the ability to be interested in taking the practical class. Hiding his surprise with a scowl, he answered, "A fair question. Normally I would tell you to leave as you would simply waste both of our time. But it may be possible to use some amount of magecraft- perhaps only formalcraft, that is ritual casting using magic circles- using your wizarding magic as a substitute for prana. I will need to research the subject before I can give you a definitive answer which could take months or years." Harry walked over and said something quietly to him. The class only heard the clipped reply of "Are you sure?" and Harry's nod in response.

"Very well then. If you wish to pursue magecraft despite lacking circuits, join Harry and myself during our Saturday morning sessions and drop this class." A number of students were listening intently to the professor's words. "We will be meeting once a week on Saturdays beginning immediately after breakfast at 8:30 and continue until 12:30 when we leave for lunch." There was a sudden lack of interest in the student body. "If you are still interested then meet us at breakfast in the great hall in three days. Now the rest of you, be off!"

There was a great scraping of chairs as all but 11 students filed out of the room, talking animatedly.

"Those of you who remain either have a non-standard element that requires a different test to divine, a sorcery trait, or both."

"But I thought we already tested the sorcery trait," a Hufflepuff girl complained.

"We tested for the presence of a sorcery trait which is quick and easy," Harry replied. "They are rather rare and it takes a longer and more involved ritual to determine what that sorcery trait actually is should it be unknown. Typically, they are a characteristic that runs in families such as the Edelfelt's Ore Scales which enables them to have two successors to their magecraft instead of only having one as is the norm."

Hermione found Harry in the library an hour later (he had accidentally stumbled upon it while trying to make his way downstairs, she had had its location mapped precisely in her mind from the very first morning). "Explain," she demanded thrusting her results paper into his face.

"Explain what?" He asked, unable to make much sense of anything with the paper touching his nose.

"Explain this," she ordered pointing at a spot on the paper.

He took it from her hand, moved it to a comfortable distance to read, and asked "Your element?"

"Yes. 'Average One'. What does it mean." Hands on hips, Hermione loomed over him.

"Exactly what it says," he answered with the hint of a smile threatening to break free.

"And what is that?" She asked, her eyes narrowing and her voice becoming dangerously soft.

"That you are an average one."

"That explains nothing!" She exclaimed snatching the paper back.

"What do you think it means?" He asked.

"I don't know and that's the problem! I saw the sheets of a few others and they said predictable things like 'fire' or 'earth' or 'water and ether'. Elements seem to be based upon Aristotle's ideas about the makeup of the universe. I even understood what element they had was probably based on the color the circle flashed. But my circle flashed rainbow. Rainbow! And the results say 'average one'. Is it good? Is it bad? Is it just average? I have no idea what it means! You didn't even ask me to stay behind despite it being so odd, so spill!"

'She really is very sharp,' Harry thought. Deciding that he had irritated her enough, he finally gave a straight answer. "It is good. Very very good. In every generation there are perhaps two or three magi who are average ones. They are always spectacularly talented. That is because an average one is a person who is capable of using all five elements. I myself am able to use two elements: wind which is standard and blood which most definitely is not. We, that is to say professor Velvet and myself, do not yet know how elements influence wizardry, but I suspect that with your element you will excel at whatever branch of magic you wish."

Hermione stood frozen in place, shocked. Then pink crawled up her cheeks and she blushed at the compliment. Gathering her wits, she asked: "What about the rest of it? It says I have potential and gives some numbers but without context I don't know what they mean."

Harry took the paper from her and looked at it. "12 circuits each capable of channeling 17 units of prana giving a total capacity of… 204. Not bad for a first-generation magus." Harry returned the paper to her. "An average magus has 20 circuits each capable of channeling 20 units of prana giving them a total capacity of about 400." Hermione began to look downcast, but Harry continued before her pity party could begin. "An average magus also has between 5 and 10 generations of research and circuit cultivation through careful selection of marriage partners to reach that point. Most first-generation magi have a total capacity of under 150, or even under 100. As I said, not bad for a first-generation magus."

"But it's so low in comparison!"

"It is, especially when compared to truly spectacular magi- I believe my master's capacity is well over 10,000. Then again, she is the most prominent member of the most prominent magus family in existence which has the highest quality magic circuits possible, circuits that are so good they are practically a sorcery trait and have their own name: Blue Blood Noble Magic Circuits. She is called 'The Queen of the Clock Tower' for a reason. Pretty much no one can compete if compared against her. But you must remember that despite your lowish capacity for magecraft, you are still an Average One and far more versatile than most magi will ever be. You are also a wizard with all of the perks that entails. And, it may become possible, with the proper research, to increase your capacity using wizarding magic or to entirely substitute magic for prana. It is not an area of study that has ever really been explored."

"What? Why not? Surely someone had the idea to study it!"

"I'm sure someone did, but they never really had a chance to. You see, wizards and magi aren't exactly friends…" Harry smiled as he began to recount their factions' troubled past, glad he had distracted Hermione from possible feelings of inadequacy, and that she hadn't thought to ask him about his own circuits.

Dinner found Harry swarmed by the rest of the Hufflepuff first-years. They all wanted to know more about the results they had been given. Harry, being both wise and hungry (but mostly hungry), told them to wait until after. Upon hearing the clamor from their juniors, many of the older students expressed interest in also being tested, if only out of idle curiosity. Harry agreed, having been extensively drilled in the creation and interpretation of the proper circles by Altrouge in preparation for this very event (though he had not known it at the time).

Reactions to the revelations provided by the first-year students differed at each table. While Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were eager and enthusiastic, Gryffindor and Slytherin were not. A number of Gryffindor students from older families had been raised on stories of the villainy and danger of the evil magi, tales which Harry would not have been able to fully refute had he been at the table to discuss them, for magi could be horrific people of the worst sort willing to do anything to further their research. At the Slytherin table many students from prominent pureblood families were expounding upon the superiority of the wizard and the worthlessness of pursuing inferior forms of magic. There were, however, a number of dissident voices at that table who focused on the potential power such knowledge and abilities could grant them. In what was certainly a coincidence, whether a Slytherin first-year was for or against learning magecraft was closely aligned with whether they had the ability to use it or not. Regardless of what was being said at each table, the topic of magecraft dominated the conversation.

After everyone had fed and watered, they lumbered back to their common rooms feeling rather bloated. Harry found himself at the center of attention once more and he was quickly growing tired of it. However, this time he was the center of attention of an entire house instead of just his class. 134 pairs of eyes were fixed upon him as he sat in an armchair by the fireplace, his house arranged around him in a semi-circle several rows deep. A sudden silence fell upon the common room broken only by the crackling fire as the Hufflepuffs were suddenly hesitant to speak first.

In this moment of silence Neville stepped forward. Noticing the many eyes upon him, he hesitated, then began to talk in a weak and stuttering voice. "C-could you t-tell me what the elements m-mean?"

Harry's throat was dry. He attempted to respond and found he could not. Someone brought him a glass of water. "Your element is simply the type of magecraft you are capable of using. Each element is not only the ability to physically use that element, but also a number of concepts associated with it."

"Can you give an example?" Neville's voice was stronger now.

"Certainly. My element is wind. It not only deals with spells that involve the air," a wave of his hand and a breeze ruffled his listener's hair, "but also in spells that involve energy, kinetic forces, and static movement."

"Cool, my element is also wind. Think you could teach me something?" A girl- he thought her name was Emily- asked.

"Depends, what is your potential?

She blushed, looked down, and said softly "Zero."

"No, I can't teach you anything at the moment. Maybe with some research it will be possible, but not right now, sorry." Emily slunk back into the crowd.

"Hey, what about my element? This says that my element is 'ether'," Ernie Macmillan interjected.

"Ether is an odd element, think of it being a substance that combines itself with a different element to enact a spell. On its own it can't really do that much, and I don't know that much about it."

"That's lame."

"Neville," Harry said turning the conversation back to his friend, "what's your element?"

"Earth."

"In magecraft earth deals with grounding, the cultivation of energy, and energy embedding. I'm not sure how that would translate to wizardry, but if it is similar in effect then you may be gifted in warding, enchanting -objects not people- potions, and herbology."

"Wouldn't potions be water?" Someone asked.

"Yes, but some of the properties of earth can apply. Again, this is only if the element affects the same concepts in wizardry as it does magecraft. What is your potential Neville?"

"Er, it says 3 circuits with a quality of 35. Is that good?"

"Well your circuits are certainly of high quality, but you have almost none. You'll be capable of some magecraft should you decide to learn it, but your strict limits on the amount of energy you are able to use will mostly relegate you to formalcraft. Other questions?"

"Yeah," it was Cedric. "Can we be tested too?"

"Give me a room to set up in and enough time and I'd be happy to."

Setting up the room took the better part of an hour. First the furniture had to be cleared away, then he had to meticulously draw and check the circles.

"This line is off by a centimeter and that symbol is reversed. If you use the circle as it is, it'll be testing to see if your subject is a duck instead of whether they have a sorcery trait."

Harry returned to the circle he had just checked. Maybe the lines were off by a bit, but it would still work just fine. Wait, several of the symbols had mysteriously changed since he last checked the circle. He didn't know if it would check for duckness or not, but it would not be working as intended. Looking up he found Altrouge sitting across from him laughing. Sighing, he fixed the circle and found that his next circle had also been altered. Altrouge was laughing even harder. It seemed she was in a mischievous mood this evening. She was always difficult to deal with when like this.

A good while later Altrouge finally settled down and let Harry finish his circles (with slight nearly unnoticed improvements). He was finally ready to begin testing the other Hufflepuff students. Altrouge was still there leaning back in a chair seemingly nonchalant, but she kept glancing at him expectantly.

"Do you want to help me test my housemates?"

Eyes sparkling she jumped up, her chair clattering to the floor. She virtually teleported to the door, opened it, and called: "We are ready to begin, who is first?"

To Harry's great surprise, it was professor Sprout who entered first. "I've been hearing all about the day's lessons this evening, I hope you don't mind if I wish to join in so I'm not left out entirely," she said with a chuckle.

"No, not at all, come on in," he hurriedly replied.

Professor Sprout, it turned out, had the dual elements of earth and ether, but no talent for magecraft or a sorcery trait. Most of those that were tested that evening were similar. It seemed about a sixth of the house including the already tested first years- 23 people in total- had some degree of magecraft potential. Harry noticed that there seemed to be few purebloods among their number. On the other hand, there were 6 individuals with sorcery traits that Harry could not make heads or tails of, and all but one were members of old pureblood families. His scan gave him some information, but it was like nothing he had heard of before. Perhaps these traits only applied to wizardry in some subtle fashion. It was another topic that required research.

Testing complete, it was nearly midnight when Altrouge finally ordered him to go to bed. She would work on analyzing the data with Waver Velvet and would inform Harry when they had results. Harry's job, she said, was to learn wizardry. He could always do research during the summer.

Thursday

"You all right Harry?" Cedric asked the yawning boy as he sat down beside him at breakfast.

"Yeah I'm *yawn* just sleepy. I was over excited last night and stayed up too late."

"Well chin up, you get your first flying lesson today!"

"Flying? On a broomstick?"

"That's right. It's only the most amazing thing ever."

"No thanks, you can count me out."

Cedric's mouth dropped open. "What."

"Yeah, I mean flying in the air on an uncomfortable little stick? Count me out. If I wanted to go flying I'd get myself a glider."

"No. Stop right there. You can't just dismiss this. Ah-ah-ah-ah," he said holding a hand up to shut down Harry's attempted interjection, "no talking. Flying is amazing. The freedom of cutting through the air with only your own skill and a multitude of enchantments keeping you aloft is exhilarating like nothing else. Besides, flying is in your blood. Many Potters have been excellent flyers, some even went professional and became sports stars! Not to mention your element."

"What about it?"

"Wind. The same as mine. The same element every person on the Hufflepuff quidditch team has. Flying is in your blood." Cedric took a deep breath to calm himself as he had been getting louder and louder as his passion for flying had gotten the better of him. "Now, this is what will happen this afternoon. You are going to go out to your flying class, you are going to get on a broom, and you are going to love it, understand? Good. When I see you at dinner I expect to receive a full report."

The morning's classes were the same as they had been on Monday: writing and maths with the Gryffindors. In writing they were still working on the art of using quills and Harry's chicken scratch was nearly legible by the end of the period, unfortunately his hand was cramping (why oh why couldn't he just use a pen?). Meanwhile in maths they were moving through a general review of basic maths at breakneck pace. While many of the students were solid on basic addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, and fractions, some were not and had quite a lot of revision to complete for the following Monday.

Soon Harry found himself back at lunch. He'd only been turned around a couple of times on his way, but still didn't trust the central staircase shaft thing and had found an alternate route down. Harry was about to sit at the Hufflepuff table when he felt a sudden weight on his right arm. Tracey had attached herself to it quick as a limpet and was slowly dragging him in a different direction. He let himself be dragged along and soon found himself at the Slytherin table sitting between Daphne and Tracey across from Neville and Hermione.

"And so the man of the hour arrives at last," Daphne said as he was placed beside her. "You've been the talk of the school for the last day."

"And because we're often seen with you our housemates have been pestering us about things we have no idea how to explain," Tracey continued.

"So spill," a new voice spoke up from beside Daphne. It was a boy of Mediterranean descent that Harry had not yet met. Pulling out a paper from his bag he handed it over.

"Now that we have successfully acquired the target, thanks Tracey," Tracey smiled widely at the girl who had just sat next to her, "we can get down to business."

Within seconds Harry was mobbed by the entirety of the Slytherin first year students, Malfoy included, all of them shoving their own papers at him asking for explanations. So much for his plan of having a quiet lunch with his friends…

Charms class that afternoon was much the same as it had been on Monday. They were still focused on learning basic wand movements while professor Flitwick went from student to student giving pointers and correcting stances. The novelty quickly wore off and by the time class was halfway complete most students were listlessly flicking their wants about. Flitwick, upon seeing his class's lethargy stepped into the center of the room, made several complex motions with his wand that included a lot of twisting and spiraling, muttered an incantation, and suddenly in front of every student a cube appeared. It was about one foot on each side and composed of what seemed to be a gray mist. His class was suddenly paying him close attention.

"Listen up!" He said as loudly as he could manage without using an amplification spell. "Before each of you is a Trymian cube, a training device used by duelists. The cube will give you a wand movement to perform," a bright white diagonal line appeared in the center of the cube, it curved up slightly at the end. "Follow the line as well as you can with the tip of your wand." The class did so and found their wands traced a blue line through the mist. Once complete the cubes glowed a number of different colors and a number appeared above them in red. "Those numbers are a representation of how precise your wand movement was. How fast was it? How smooth was it? How well did it stay on the line? The higher your number, the better. At the end of class the top three scorers will be given prizes of their choice," three different types of wizarding candies were upon his desk. "Ready? Begin!"

With renewed enthusiasm the class sprang into action. In the end Hermione took the top prize, just barely beating out Susan Bones and Terry boot.

Defense was… bad. Still. While Quirrel wasn't a terrible teacher, his stutter made it difficult to follow the class and simply reading the textbook and taking notes from that was more helpful than trying to parse what the poor professor was saying. He even managed to miscast a number of spells when attempting to demonstrate them due to that stutter, unintentionally driving in Flitwick's lesson on the importance of proper enunciation.

Afterwards the class trooped outside for the first of their weekly flying classes. There were two lines of brooms along the ground- old but well maintained. Madam Hooch, a sharp-eyed witch with short grey hair, was standing at the end of the line waiting for them.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" She barked as soon as they were all there. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Harry did as he was asked and glanced down at his broom with a feeling of unease. Flying. On a broomstick. What a ridiculous thing to do. At least his broom seemed to be well cared for- or at least nothing about it stood out as being wrong. He eyed it with suspicion.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted, some with more enthusiasm than others.

Several brooms jumped right up into waiting hands. Harry's made a half-hearted attempt making it about a foot into the air, then gave up as if the whole flying thing was too much of a bother and flopped back onto the ground. Harry wondered if it was somehow able to sense his distaste for the idea of flying on a broom. Cedric had convinced, or coerced, him to give it a go, but he really didn't want to. Glancing around he noticed that Hermione and Neville appeared to be having more trouble than he was getting their brooms to behave. A second attempt with a bit more force in his voice- blocking out his misgivings- and his broom almost appeared to teleport into his waiting hand.

Once they had all managed to magic their brooms to their hands (as simply bending over to pick it up was too much work… and their magic had to be activated), Madam Hooch showed them all how to mount their brooms and then walked around correcting their grips. Once she was pleased with them all, they continued.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," she said. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle- three, two, one, FWEET!"

At the whistle they all kicked off and lifted gently into the air. Well, most of them did. Neville kicked off far too hard and reflexively pulled up on his broomstick which leapt into the air. He was twenty feet up and rising fast before anyone realized what had happened. Horrified, Harry froze as Madam Hooch tried to talk the panicking boy through stopping his ascent.

What could he do? What could he do? What could he do? He could try flying up to help him, but that would only end badly for both of them. He could try to cast a spell, or use a mystery or…

Neville was falling off his broom- now at a height of over fifty feet. He plummeted towards the ground and certain death. But Madam Hooch reacted like lightning and cast four spells in the blink of an eye slowing Neville's descent and placing him gently on the grass with his unruly broom next to him. Harry had frozen, Madam Hooch had not.

"That must have given you quite the scare dear, why don't you spend some time resting. Just watch what the others are doing and when you feel up for it join in as well. No one is going to get hurt under my watch."

After that bit of excitement Madam Hooch had them all practice taking off and landing so they got the hang of it and how to avoid having their brooms make a break for the stratosphere like Neville's had. After that she had them fly around a bit- no more than a few feet off the ground- and practice turns.

It was easy. It was far too easy. Harry didn't even have to think about what he was doing- flying was surprisingly intuitive. It was also far more comfortable than it appeared. There was some sort of charm that meant that rather than having a piece of hard wood stuck between his legs and likely ending up in a great deal of pain if he ever hit turbulence, Harry seemed to be resting on a cushion of air just around the broom. It somehow didn't interfere with his grip and was, if not comfortable, manageable.

Something about flying was also quite relaxing. It was freeing floating there, even if he was only allowed a short way off the ground. Harry could see why others found it fun. Going fast on a broom would likely be much like riding Prim as it charged through a forest but with the ability to control your own direction- a huge adrenaline rush.

Neville rejoined the others after twenty minutes and was far more successful this time. He was unwilling to move faster than a snails' pace, reach a height where he toes no longer touched the grass, or release his death grip on the broom, but he was successfully flying. Harry spent most of the rest of the lesson, in which Madam Hooch gradually allowed her class to do slightly more advanced things- like turning while going slightly up or down- drifting along and talking to Neville or Hermione.

Cedric was waiting for Harry when he entered the castle with an expectant look on his face. He didn't say anything, just looked at him.

"It was ok."

Cedric raised an eyebrow.

"It was decent."

Cedric raised his other eyebrow.

"It was better than I expected."

Cedric narrowed his eyes.

"Brooms aren't as bad as I thought they were."

Cedric crossed his arms.

"Flying is surprisingly easy."

Cedric was not impressed.

"All right, fine! I had fun!"

Cedric Looked at him.

"You were right and I was wrong. I shall bow to your superior wisdom in all matters for I am but a lowly firstie who does not know what I am talking about."

Cedric was smug. "Now don't you forget it! So, tell me all about it, how was your first time flying?"

"It would have been more fun if we were allowed to go faster than walking speed."

"Well, you gotta walk before you can run."

"But if you can run from the very start, walking is somewhat boring."

"Fair enough. How about you Neville, how was flying?"

"It almost killed me."

"He's being literal here Cedric," Harry said cutting him off. "If it wasn't for Madam Hooch's fast thinking he probably would have been killed by the fall."

"Oh dear, what happened?" Cedric asked in concern.

"I panicked when we first took to the air. The broom just kept going up, it was all I could do to hang on. And then I couldn't and I fell. But see! Not a scratch on me! Magic really is amazing isn't it?"

"It certainly is. Now, how about we head back to the common room and I'll show you how to outwit the 6th years next time you play Wyrms & Wizards!"

End Chapter 15

A/N: Sorry about the delay this time. I did have this chapter pretty much done back at the end of September and meant to upload it back then, but in my proofread I decided to rewrite part of it and then just became distracted by grad school and never got around to finishing it until yesterday. More chapters are coming, I will hopefully have them done soon (see my profile for details). I really need to allot some time every week to working on my story (instead of ignoring it for months) or it will never get to any of the places I want to take it.