The Potter Timeline
Chapter 18 - Tests and Revelations
The day after their ordeal in the Hall of Reflection, Harry and Hermione walked with Dean, Neville, Seamus, the Patil twins, and Lavender Brown to the fourth floor for their Defence Against the Dark Arts class. At lunch, Harry and Hermione privately wondered what awaited them in the final class of the day as no notice had been given the class was cancelled due to the permanent absence of its teacher. When the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin first-years entered the classroom, they were struck by surprise.
Instead of a dark, dreary room reeking of garlic and incense, the space was bright and clean. The two casement windows were open, allowing cool Spring air inside. Several candles hovering around the ceiling threw off not only a warm light, but also a fragrant scent of patchouli, giving the room a pleasant, mystical quality. The astonished students all took their seats and gawked at the room and each other.
Where was the professor?
"Good afternoon, students," a voice chimed at them from behind.
Everyone spun in their seats to find Professor Dumbledore standing at the back, his hands clasped behind him, and a smile on his face as he gazed over his charges. Harry and Hermione were puzzled. The man wasn't there when they entered the classroom. Where did he come from?
Dumbledore walked between two aisles of desks to the front. He then turned and faced the students.
"I'm sorry to inform you that our dear Professor Quirrell has met with an unfortunate accident and will no longer be with us," the man stated while throwing a knowing gaze at Harry and Hermione.
Whispers broke out among the students as to what may have happened to the jittery, turban-headed man. Malfoy snickered. The professor gave Draco a severe stare while clearing his throat. The now red-faced kid and his fellow pupils went silent. Dumbledore continued.
"As such, I will be assuming duties as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for the remainder of the term."
Stunned looks from the students followed. The old wizard walked along the front of the class.
"Now, as you can see, I've opened the windows and brightened the place up a bit. Learning how to protect yourself against the Dark Arts doesn't necessitate having to do so in the dark. In fact, light is the best weapon against darkness. It can expose that which is concealed and grant us a clearer path to understanding and overcoming evil. And the best kind of light doesn't come from a window, candle, or even a wand. It comes...from within. Now, let's begin..."
The headmaster started his first lecture which, Harry noted, annulled various assertions made by Professor Quirrell during his lectures excusing the behavior of dark wizards and witches. Defence Against the Dark Arts took on a very different tone with Professor Dumbledore at its helm. And to nearly every pupil in the room, it was a welcome difference.
It still took a few days for Harry and Hermione to adjust to school routine after their encounter with Quirrell and Voldemort. But they found that focusing on their academics was just the thing they needed to move on from the trauma they both experienced. With their final exams looming on the horizon, the pair worked extra hard at learning their class material. And Harry was true to his word to Hermione.
In an effort to motivate himself, he pretended he needed to know the material from each class in order to defeat Voldemort successfully. How could he utilize transfiguration, potions, mechanics of wand movement, and even astronomical calculations to overcome the dark lord and his wicked servants? Approaching the subjects this way made even their boring Herbology work seem interesting. He discovered to his amazement that through mere "play acting", he was able to retain many facts and principles he would normally have forgotten once it was no longer necessary to pass the class.
This revelation was powerful.
Though Hermione initially frowned at his methodology, as she needed no extra incentive to work hard herself, Harry was thrilled - the academic side of his schooling didn't seem like so much drudgery now.
They also joined their fellow first-years in a joint study session in the Gryffindor common room twice a week as well as studying with them during short-session Fridays in the Great Hall - this, affording the opportunity to ask the more advanced students for tips and pointers. Harry and Hermione also spent a few evenings a week working on their practical skills in the Spell Room.
One particular evening they were going over the material for Flitwick's practical exam.
"According to Fred and George, Flitwick had them enter his classroom individually for the exam," Hermione informed Harry.
"What did he have them do?"
"Demonstrate the moving, rotating, and levitation spells. Then, he had them make a pineapple dance across a desk without falling off."
Harry's eyes went wide.
"How exactly do we do that?" he wondered in alarm.
"I imagine by using a combination of all those spells and coordinating the wand movements between them," Hermione stated, "we could..."
They were both startled at the door to the classroom opening. In walked Professors McGonagall and Flitwick. The witch in emerald robes and her fellow professor both smiled at them.
"Good evening, Harry, Hermione," she spoke.
"Good evening, professors," the two returned wide-eyed.
"May we join the two of you?" Flitwick asked to their surprise.
"Sure," Harry replied, Hermione nodding.
"As I once promised, Filius and I decided to stop by and see how you are progressing with your spellwork. Would you mind demonstrating what you've been working on?"
The kids stared at each other and swallowed hard. Their practice session suddenly felt like an exam in its own right.
"Of course...professor," Hermione answered nervously.
McGonagall and Flitwick retrieved a couple of chairs and sat down. The two pupils pulled out their wands and went through every spell they had worked on since the previous term: the locking and unlocking spells, the light spell, the reducing and enlarging spells, the moving, rotating, and levitation spells as well as a brief demonstration of "magical catch" from their first session. They finished with the fire spell, the silence spell, and the blasting spell. Along the way, each professor would give them helpful tips as well as a rudimentary understanding of the magic behind each spell. When they finished, Hermione and Harry stood in silence while McGonagall and Flitwick discussed something privately. This made the first-years nervous. When the professors rose and walked toward them, their hearts were beating out of their chests. The woman smiled.
"I must say, the two of you have made great progress. Well done!" McGonagall told them.
"Yes! Excellent work from you both!" Flitwick chimed while clasping his hands in delight.
The first-years beamed.
"Now," Professor McGonagall said while stepping a little closer to them, "normally we would award House points to pupils who go beyond the call of duty in their studies. However, we thought we'd reward you in a different way."
The woman looked at Flitwick.
"We'd like to introduce you to some defensive spells which are generally not taught to first-years," the man informed them, "but due to recent events and how well the two of you are progressing magically, Professor Dumbledore requested we give you a head start on the retrieving spell, the shield spell, and the disarming spell. If you wish, that is."
Harry and Hermione gawked at one another wide-eyed before throwing huge grins at the professors.
"Yes, professor!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Definitely!" Harry added.
Flitwick and McGonagall exchanged amused looks.
"Very well," the woman replied, "but keep in mind that mastering these spells requires magical power you may not fully possess yet. And, we will only teach you these spells with the understanding that you not share this with your fellow pupils - let this stay between the two of you, for now. Further, per the request of Professor Dumbledore, neither of you is to attempt to use these spells on any suspected dark wizard unless said wizard threatens your lives first. Is that clear?"
"Yes, ma'am," they responded at the same time.
"Excellent!" Flitwick exclaimed, "let's begin..."
~HP~
The following week, during dinner, the pair were listening to Dean coach Neville on the list of basic potions required for Snape's final exam. As the kids went on across from them, Harry thought of something and paused with a frown before taking another bite of his shepherd's pie. Hermione noticed this and leaned toward him.
"Harry, what is it?" she asked quietly.
His face scrunched up in thought.
"It's been over a week since Fluffy's funeral, and we haven't heard a peep out of Hagrid. I'm worried about him."
"You're concerned about his dragon," she stated with a worried look herself. Harry nodded.
"Yes. By now the thing is probably several feet long, at least. I wonder how he's keeping it under control...if he is."
"I don't know. Hopefully it hasn't burned his hut to the ground though. Perhaps we better check on him."
"Definitely. Once we're finished with dinner, let's pay him a visit before tonight's study session."
Hermione nodded. Once they finished their meals, they excused themselves from their House mates and exited the Great Hall.
After departing the castle, the two hurried in the direction of Hagrid's hut at the edge of the forest. As soon as they turned the corner of the south wall, they both glanced in the direction of the gamekeeper's domain. There was no smoke rising out of the chimney top.
"Well," Harry spoke while focused on the circular house in the distance, "his hut is still intact, though it looks like he isn't burning a fire tonight."
"But it does look like he has a light on...sort of," Hermione added with a frown.
They both noticed orange light moving around through the windows in the hut as though someone inside was walking around with a lantern. This was strange. The kids sprinted across the grounds and stopped just at the steps beneath the big door to the house.
CRASH!
The sound of something falling over inside was followed by a horrific screeching noise as though Hagrid had accidentally sat on a large bird. Harry and Hermione gawked at one another. Harry, swallowing hard, stepped up and knocked on the door. There was the sound of someone fumbling around, another ear-splitting screech, a flash of orange light through the window, and then the sound of Hagrid's big feet moving toward the door. The door opened and the giant peered out with a look of fright. The two first-years were taken aback. His face had black smudges all over it, both his hands had crude bandages wrapped around them, and part of his beard looked...singed.
"Harry! Hermione! Er...what are you two doin' out here this time o' night?" he asked hurriedly while throwing a worried glance back inside before staring at the pair.
"Hagrid, are you okay?" Harry started, "we were concerned about..."
CRASH!
SCREECH!
Another flash of orange light lit up the inside of the hut and the big man's eyes went wide. He turned to pat out a few small flames on the bottom of his shirt. Harry and Hermione were gobsmacked.
"Don' you two worry...I'm alright."
"It doesn't look like you're alright. You're on fire!" Hermione scolded the giant.
The sound of a dog yelping from inside was suddenly followed by Fang bolting out of the house and bounding down the steps. The great boarhound ran to Hermione, turning and leaning up against the girl while gazing back at his master, whimpering. The brunette petted the poor animal in consolation. The man continued.
"Oh no...I'm okay...it's just...er...Norbert's misbehavin'...that's all."
"Misbehaving?" Harry asked incredulously, "Hagrid, look at you!"
CRASH!
SCREECH!
The man turned to look inside again. As he did, Harry and Hermione were finally able to get a glimpse of the dragon. At only four feet from head to tip of tail, the beast looked fearsome already. Its charcoal-black color was broken up only by the maroon-tinged ridges along its back. Its wingspan was wider than the creature was long and with a swift flick, as though Norbert was attempting to fly, the rush of air under the wings knocked over Hagrid's rocking chair and shattered some ceramic bowls on a nearby shelf. It then screeched again, and a yellow-orange flame shot out of its nostrils.
The giant looked perplexed and helpless, though he gazed at his pet dragon lovingly, like a mother at a child...who was throwing a tantrum.
"Hagrid, you need to do something!" Hermione stated, "any bigger and that dragon will reduce your house to ashes!"
The big man appeared quite unhappy, but recognized the girl was right.
"Okay, okay! But what can I do? I can't just toss Norbert out into the forest!"
The kids looked at each other in thought. Then Harry's face lit up.
"Hold on! At Christmas, Fred and George told me their brother Charlie works with dragons in Romania. Maybe he could take it or knows someone who can."
Hermione smiled at the boy. They looked back at Hagrid.
"Hang on, Hagrid. We'll find a proper home for him," Harry said.
The giant reluctantly agreed, and the pair rushed back to the castle with a mission to find the twins. After arriving in the common room twenty minutes before the Gryffindor study session, Harry and Hermione were elated at seeing Fred and George lounging on the sofa. The redheads were each reading from one of their textbooks when the first-years approached them.
"Harry!" George uttered.
"Hermione!" Fred added.
"Hey, guys!" Harry replied, "we need to ask you a big favor."
"Nothing doing, I'm afraid," Fred said.
"Yeah, we're pretty busy with our schoolwork right now. Got more than we can shake a wand at," George threw in.
"Right. It would have to be something so spectacular we would actually want to shove aside our already overloaded schedule," Fred finished as though they were looking for an excuse to do just that.
Harry and Hermione exchanged knowing glances. They then stepped in closer, and the twins leaned toward them, clearly intrigued.
"Well, spectacular it certainly is," Hermione whispered.
"In fact," Harry added, "it's not only that, it's downright dangerous!"
The eyes of both redheads went wide, and they gawked at one another.
"Dangerous!" George uttered quietly to Fred.
"Ooh!" Fred replied.
"Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?" George stated.
"We're in!" they both shouted while simultaneously tossing their textbooks onto the sofa.
The four exited the common room to talk privately in an adjacent hallway below the fifth floor. When Harry and Hermione regaled them of the tale of Hagrid's dragon, the twins' faces both lit up with glee.
"Sure!" Fred exclaimed, "we'll owl our brother in Romania and come up with a way to get the little bugger to him. This is exciting!"
"Yeah, we just need to figure out how to control it. Dragons are a right nasty lot and this one sounds nastier than usual," George chimed.
"Okay," Harry responded, "get that owl off and we'll figure out a way to handle it."
"It's a deal!" the twins uttered at the same time. The redheads turned and headed off, excitedly discussing ideas about the venture as though they were planning to rob Gringott's. Harry and Hermione chuckled before heading back to the common room for their study session with their fellow first-years.
"Any ideas on how to control Norbert without getting fingers bitten off or clothes set on fire?" Harry asked the girl.
Hermione's face scrunched up in thought.
"He'll have to be put in some kind of box or crate - they don't want anyone seeing the thing, that's for sure."
"Yeah, but he might burn the box or crate up before they could even move it."
The two pondered this puzzle in silence. Then suddenly, Harry's face lit up.
"Hermione! Remember that potions class where Snape complimented you?"
"How could I forget?"
"Well, what about the potion he had you describe?"
Hermione's eyes went wide, and she stopped, turning to face the boy in amazement.
"'Turnbull's Sleeping Draught'!" she exclaimed. Harry nodded at her with a huge grin.
"Of course!" Hermione went on, "I might be able to get the ingredients for it from the student lab in the dungeon. However, we have to be careful. As I mentioned in that class, if a portion the size of a thimble could knock out a full-grown dragon, Norbert can only be given no more than a drop, otherwise it might kill him."
"Maybe they can put a drop in the mouth of one of those dead rats Hagrid is feeding the thing."
"So that's what that horrid smell was coming from inside his hut."
"Yeah, I happened to see a whole crate full of them just before Hagrid closed the door."
The pair resumed their march toward Gryffindor Tower.
"By the way, Harry," Hermione spoke, "despite our busyness, I did finally look up the location of that book in the Restricted Section."
"Okay, great!"
"Strangely, it's an older edition of our current Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook. The one we have is called The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, 5th edition and the one in the Restricted Section is called The Dark Forces: A Guide to the Other Side of Magic, 1st edition. Both are written by the same author: Quentin Tremble."
Harry thought about this.
"We've both looked through our DADA textbook, and there's only those few, rather general sentences regarding the killing curse. If the first edition is in the Restricted Section, that suggests it might contain more detailed information."
"Exactly. The question is why Tremble would omit that information in later editions unless he or someone else didn't want first-years to see it."
"Well, we'll find out when I go look at the book."
Hermione stopped and turned to face the boy, causing him to stop and gaze into her pretty, brown eyes.
"Alright, Harry," she uttered with a serious expression, "just be careful!"
Harry chuckled.
"Don't worry. I will."
~HP~
The casement window to the Restricted Section opened and a soft evening breeze blew in. But that wasn't the only thing to blow in. After Harry passed through the window and hovered a few feet from the floor, he dismounted his Nimbus and removed the invisibility cloak.
He had returned.
Placing the cloak and broom by the window frame, Harry pulled out his wand and lit it. The spooky books of the Restricted Section appeared once more, though he'd become so used to them by now they didn't creep him out as much. He scoured the aisles for the specific location Hermione indicated and after a few minutes browsing, found the Dark Forces book.
Pulling it off the shelf, Harry sat down on the floor and cracked it open. Flipping to the section concerning the Unforgivables, Harry's eyes went wide at the information this edition had on the killing curse. In particular, he was struck by a specific passage.
"...While the killing curse is the most widely known of the Unforgivables, what is not readily known is the effect the curse has on its user. Evidence has demonstrated that those who utilize this highly illegal magic can physically and mentally degenerate over time. A prisoner in Azkaban who was tried and found guilty of numerous murders using the spell stated during an interview that it felt like he was being torn apart each time he did so. And while no physical effects have been known to appear on victims, evidence has also demonstrated the curse can leave a magical residue, some believing that residue to be a part of the very person who used it..."
Harry looked up in shock.
Is that why his scar burned whenever Voldemort looked at him? Did a part of the dark wizard attach itself to him during his attack on the boy when he was a child?
"Find what you're looking for?" a voice suddenly spoke from behind.
The boy jumped in fright and dropped the Dark Forces book onto the floor. Harry spun around to find Professor Dumbledore gazing down at him with a smile.
"Professor!" he uttered in shock.
He gulped and slowly rose from the floor, picking up the book in the process.
"My apologies for startling you, Harry," the headmaster said with a single nod, "I shouldn't have waited until I was nearly behind you."
"No problem, sir. I...wasn't expecting anyone here, that's all."
"Of course not," the man stated with amusement, "who would linger in the library at this late hour, after curfew?"
Harry gulped and his eyes went wide in concern.
"Sorry...sir. It's...just that..." he started in an attempt to come up with a valid excuse for breaking the rules. But the headmaster waved his hand at the boy.
"No need to explain, Harry. I understand. Sometimes curiosity and the thirst for knowledge can override our more...logical sensibilities. When I was your age, I was terribly curious and yearned for as much truth and knowledge as I could attain. And, believe it or not, I broke a few rules myself in the pursuit. Our rules are meant to bring order to our world and protect one another from undue harm. But that doesn't mean those rules are infallible. Now, as to your being out after curfew and breaking into the Restricted Section, generally speaking I am required to mete out punishment..."
Harry's face lost all color.
"...However, in this case, I'll let it slide. You are, Harry, after all, a special case yourself whose situation and circumstances are more unusual and demanding than your average Hogwarts student - all because of that."
At this, the man pointed at the scar on Harry's forehead. The boy nodded.
"Yes, sir. That's why I'm in here, in fact. I want to know what this is..." he said while pointing at the scar himself, "...and why it hurt when Voldemort was present."
"Of course you do, young man. And it's your right to know. Especially with the expectations our world has placed on you. And did the book you were so engrossed in give you information to that end?"
Harry handed it to him.
"Some. It indicates that when a person uses the killing curse on another, a part of that person can become...lodged in the victim. Maybe that's what happened when Voldemort tried to kill me when I was a child."
The headmaster gazed at the boy and gave him a smile of pride.
"I must say, Harry. For someone whose life has thrown him for a curve, as it were, you've turned out to be a very bright young man. I'm most impressed. I can see Miss Granger has rubbed off on you as well."
"Yes, sir," Harry answered with pink cheeks and a smile. The man continued.
"As for the answer to your question, I will tell you that 'yes', a part of Voldemort was lodged in you, as you put it, when he attempted to kill you."
Harry was gobsmacked. The man went on.
"However, I believe it to be more complicated than that," Dumbledore said while returning the Dark Forces book to the shelf. He then turned back to the boy.
"Would you accompany me, Harry, to the fifth floor? There's something I'd like for you to see."
"Sure, professor," he replied with a nod.
The headmaster smiled at him and started away from the aisles, Harry following after. But before reaching the roped barrier, Dumbledore stopped and pointed to the far window.
"Don't forget your broom and cloak, by the way. You may need them both in the future. If you find you need to enter another window under cover of invisibility, that is."
Harry's jaw dropped at this as he nodded once more. The old wizard indeed knew everything happening in his school. The kid ran to the window and retrieved the objects. They left the library and headed further up into the castle.
~HP~
Upon reaching the fifth floor, the professor opened the door to an empty classroom and the pair walked in. The space reminded Harry of the Spell Room as both the teacher's and pupils' desks and chairs had been set to either side of the room out of the way. Dumbledore waved his hand and the candelabra at the ceiling lit up the room. Harry was amazed.
'Wandless magic? How did he do that?' the boy wondered.
Looking around the room, Harry now noticed something against the far wall that seemed out of place. It was a large floor mirror with a very old wooden frame. The gold embossed frame was quite ornate, however, and above the arched top of the mirror, strange words were etched. Harry screwed up his eyes to try to understand the words, but he could make neither heads nor tails of them. His curiosity was piqued.
"Sir, is that mirror like the ones in the Hall of Reflection?" he queried the wizard.
Dumbledore walked over to it and gazed into the reflection.
"No, Harry. This mirror is quite different from those. Come. Take a look."
Harry walked over and stood before the mirror, its height stretching almost double Harry's own. The professor then moved aside, out of the reflection, and Harry found himself alone in it.
"Now, tell me what you see," the headmaster stated with a tinge of curiosity in his expression.
The eleven-year-old focused on his image in the mirror and waited. Being so used to gazing into the mirrored surfaces in the third floor corridor, he was half expecting people to suddenly show up inside this one, despite what Dumbledore said about it being different. But after several moments, nothing happened.
"I...see...just myself, sir," Harry finally answered.
The professor, an odd look of puzzlement on his face, sat back against the teacher's desk and placed his hand on his chin in thought.
"Hmm...are you sure? You see only yourself and no one else in the mirror?"
Harry gazed hard at the reflection now, wondering if he was missing something. The boy shrugged.
"No, sir, I only see...wait..."
At this, Dumbledore perked up. Harry now gawked at the reflection before him.
"It's...me, professor, but I'm...older. I'm holding a wand in one hand and large book in the other. And my robes are..."
"Are what, my boy?"
"They're...grand, I guess. I'm not sure how to describe them."
"Hmm. Very curious," the headmaster intoned, "and you don't see anyone else in the mirror?"
Harry stared at his older reflection and was just about to answer 'no' when something else appeared - figures both beside and behind him.
"Actually, I do. I see others!"
"Who are they?"
The figures now came into focus and Harry's eyes went wide.
"Hermione! She's older too, wearing robes like mine and she's standing next to me. And also...Neville, Dean, Seamus, the twins, many others...Professor McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid, and...you, sir!"
"Hmm. Very curious indeed, Harry," Dumbledore replied with a slight smile.
Harry looked at the man.
"What does this mirror do, professor?"
The wizard now stepped back in front of it.
"It's called the Mirror of Erised, Harry. And it shows only the deepest desires of the heart. To those who have gazed into its enchanted surface, it reveals what that person wants most in life. In which case, seeing your friends and your teachers with you is apparently what you desire most."
The boy looked down in thought. He then looked at his reflected self again.
"Yes, sir. I mean, I have a real purpose in life here, learning magic and how to be a wizard. I'm really enjoying that. I have good friends among my House mates and my Quidditch team mates. And I have a really great best friend, a girl who's stuck with me all along. I also have good professors and even Hagrid. Everyone's helped me a lot."
Dumbledore seemed almost teary-eyed at these words as he gazed at Harry and nodded.
"I see. But what about your parents?"
Harry's face was slightly downcast at this, and he recalled the image of his mother singing to his younger self.
"Well, I certainly wish they were still alive. But I can't say I miss them - I never really knew them. I only have bits and pieces of memories from when I was little and they're rather vague at best. But there is one I remember more clearly - my mum singing to me as a child."
"The lady you heard in your Confundus dream?"
"Yes, sir. And I saw her when I was unconscious after...Voldemort passed through me in the Hall of Reflection. But since my parents aren't here, I have to find family where I can. I guess you could say my friends and teachers here are like family to me now and Hogwarts honestly feels like my home."
The headmaster nodded.
"Harry, you are wise beyond your years. I have met many people in my 110 years of existence and among them I have known only a few who discovered the kind of contentment you seem to possess. Many fritter their lives away over what might have been or what once was. A wrong decision they regret, family members they miss and yearn for, desires for wealth, power, or fame which always seems out of their reach. But as you demonstrate and as the Mirror of Erised reveals, for it cannot lie, you possess that rare quality already. Never let contentment slip from your grasp, Harry. Always remember, as you presently do, what you have, even who you have, and how precious your life is because of them."
Harry threw the man a humble gaze at these words.
"Yes, sir," he replied with a firm nod of understanding.
Silence came over the two momentarily. Dumbledore looked in the mirror.
"Is there something else you'd like to ask me?" the professor queried.
Harry looked at his reflection in the mirror.
"Yes, sir. What exactly happened the night my parents died, the night Voldemort tried to kill me? How did I survive?"
The headmaster turned to face him.
"There are many stories concerning the affair - many different views. Much of what happened is still unknown, however. But what we do know is that Voldemort went to your parents' house in Godric's Hollow and killed your father who was trying to protect both you and your mother. The vicious man then tried to kill you. But your mother, Harry, jumped in front of you and took the curse in your place. As for your survival, there are just as many theories concerning it as there are people to theorize. I have my own belief on the matter."
"What's that, sir?"
"That it was your mother's sacrifice, her love, that protected you. The curse Voldemort intended for you was rebounded on the dark lord himself as a result - his body was vanquished and you survived...with a mark, of course. And now you know most of it. However, as I stated before, the matter is more complicated. But right now is not the time to discuss such things. You are out past curfew, and I am way past my bedtime!"
Harry chuckled.
"Yes, sir. And...thank you. I've learned a lot tonight - a lot I need to think about."
"You're welcome, Harry. And as you grow and mature, hopefully, you'll find all the answers you seek to the riddle of your life. As such, please know that my door is always open for you if you ever feel the need to talk."
"Yes, professor. Thank you again."
"Very well, Harry. Shall we?"
Harry nodded at the man, and he smiled as they departed the classroom.
As Harry lay in bed that night, gazing at the ceiling of his four-poster, thoughts of what he learned about his scar, the curse, and what Dumbledore had told him swam in his dizzied mind. It was all so profound and...scary. But the image of his older self in the Mirror of Erised also appeared in his thoughts. And strangely, that reflected image seemed to communicate to him without words - that he would make it, he would become someone important one day, someone who had the strength, knowledge, courage, and wisdom to prevail over the darkness that had begun encroaching into his young life once more. And with his friends, his...'family' at Hogwarts, he knew he would succeed.
~HP~
Final exams had arrived...finally. They took place over two days with half their classes on one and other half on the second. Despite the inordinate amount of work they had put into their studies, Harry and Hermione were both nervous. These exams would determine whether they qualified for a second year. Nevertheless, they dove in with courage as each one unfolded.
During the first, in Basic Transfiguration, Harry had finished writing his exam essay on "How Transfiguration Could Improve Wizarding Society". He was rather astonished to find himself the first one, in fact. Even Hermione was still scratching away at her answer with nearly a page and a half to Harry's paltry three-quarters. This bothered him that he might not have written enough. But utilizing his method of pretending he was using transfiguration as a way to fight Voldemort or any dark wizards who threatened wizarding society, he felt he couldn't add anything more to it.
Feeling a bit nervous, Harry stood from his chair. Hermione stopped writing and threw him a stare of disbelief. A few other students did as well. Swallowing hard, the boy walked up to Professor McGonagall who was busy with paperwork at her desk. When Harry arrived before the woman, she gazed up at him with surprise. The eleven-year-old handed his parchment to her and gave her a brief smile, though his heart was beating hard. He then turned, sat down at his desk, and waited for the others to finish.
But his heart hammered even more when he saw the professor peruse his paper in curiosity.
'Oh boy!' he thought to himself in alarm.
He watched as she read through his answer and at a certain point, the woman's eyes went wide. Harry's own went wide. McGonagall then threw a shocked look at him.
"Mr. Potter!" she exclaimed with her telltale severe look, "please step forward!"
Every student in the class stopped writing and stared at him. Harry gulped and slowly rose from his chair, his face etched with fright. He saw Hermione's face full of fright as well as he walked to the professor's desk. She stared hard at the boy.
"Mr. Potter, what's the meaning of this?" she quizzed him while lightly shaking his parchment, "what are you about, young man?"
Harry's heart sank at these words.
"Well...professor...I..."
"In all my years of teaching transfiguration, no student has answered this essay question the way you have..."
The boy was ready for the big slam. She went on.
"...this is excellent, excellent work!" she exclaimed.
Harry thought he might faint. The air in the room suddenly went deathly still as every pupil seemed just as stunned as he was. She continued.
"Keep this up, young man, and you might just find yourself Head Boy someday."
A very astonished Harry nodded at her.
"Yes...ma'am."
He turned, walked back to his desk, and sat down, grinning from ear to ear. Hermione threw the boy a look of surprise, shook her head, and finished writing her dissertation for the exam.
The practical portion of their potions exam was relatively simple as they were required to concoct a brew for curing insomnia. Snape judged each pupil's work based on the color the potion took when finished. While Harry's was slightly pinker than the blue concoction was supposed to be, Snape seemed strangely…pleased. In Flitwick's class, the little man indeed had each pupil make a pineapple dance across the professor's desk. Harry and Hermione had worked extra hard on this and when Harry's pineapple finished its little jig, the boy had the fruit do a backflip and land upright on the desk. Flitwick laughed and clapped at this extra display.
"Well done, Harry! Well done!" he exclaimed.
The rest of their exams were mostly just question-based, with an essay for their DADA exam thrown in. Harry and Hermione had reviewed their History of Magic material from previous term too as they had been told in advance Professor Binns was to hold an exam for that class as well. By the end, Harry was exhausted and yet relieved. The only thing left now was to wait for their exam results, which, it was announced, would be released after the end-of-term feast. But before both of these, a very special event was to take place: the Quidditch rematch between Gryffindor and Slytherin.
The following day, the pitch was packed to the brim with students and staff. Hogwarts castle was literally empty as everyone at the school eagerly waited for the match to begin. Harry and his teammates waited inside the staging area beneath the stands in anticipation. Wood was giving them his best inspirational speech and everyone was nervous, especially Harry. When the whistle blew, the doors to the staging room opened, allowing sunlight and warm air to pour in. As the Gryffindors marched onto the pitch floor, Harry's heart hammered, and he gulped as though he was a gladiator heading out for battle in an old Roman coliseum.
Everyone took their places in the air and Madam Hooch along with Professor Snape both blew their whistles.
The battle between the snakes and the lions had begun...