Disclaimer: Anyone would think the fact that this is on a fan fic site would be enough to tell you all that I own nothing JK Rowling and the Warner Bros trolls own. That being said, I am also riffing off a story called The Power of the Press, whose author would know what is his.

Rating: I'm a little confused by this system. I suspect PG:13 would be best for anything I write, though

Notes: Don't expect regular postings, sadly. I write in fits and starts.

Chapter Four: Games and Groups

That night, Henry dreamed of dragons bursting out of stars to burn down a cottage he was living in for some reason. He woke up screaming, his throat already so hoarse his roommate could not even hear his cries enough to be woken by them. Sitting up in bed, Henry began to work on an essay about the movie version of Carrie that his cousin had forced him to watch recently, hoping that it would be good enough for his history class. All through breakfast, he only spoke in monosyllables, struggling not to snap at his classmates, as he was suffering from a pounding headache, probably from the screaming. He hated dreams.

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Half a world away, another dark haired boy was cursing dreams as well, though he knew why his were so terrible. No boy should have to remember his parents being tortured as his first memory. Now the screams still echoed in his head almost nightly. He sat up in his canopied bed clutching his pounding heart, feeling as always, as though band of iron were wrapped around his heart.

"Not that I am much of a faithful John, or anything," the boy muttered, "seeing as I've not got so much as one friend." Reaching over to a small table next to his bed, the boy rang a small bell.

"Master should tell the family about his dreams," said the small greenish being that appeared next to the table as the tinkle of the bell ended. "They are being much too frequent for Master's health, I say."

"The only thing that is affecting my health is my weakness, Sparky," the nine year old responded, "and I will conquer my failings, somehow. If I can't manifest in the arcane fields, at least I can make my body strong."

"Not without sleep, master," the creature cried, wringing its ears with long fingered hands, "as I live and breathe, you is an inch shorter than your father at this age, and wont be able to hide the bags under thy eyes from the family much longer, sir."

"I'll be fine once I can figure out why the dreams are coming so much more frequently," the boy tried to assure his servant for a few more minutes, before requesting his usual warm milk and washcloth.

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Henry slumped into Arithmancy, wishing for the first time in his life that it was the weekend already. He tired to muster up some enthusiasm for the young woman who was fast becoming his favorite teacher, but even she could sense his fatigue. "Now class, said Laurel, "I know you are all overtired from the excitement of last night, but now it is time for the ever-exciting world of Artihmancy."

With a start, Henry realized that he was hardly the only tired one around that day, as many of the other boys groaned audibly as their teacher continued in an unnecessarily perky voice, "I saw the Lenttz display was just as excellent as usual. And since we all know Anthony isn't here yet, any more than the rest of our returning students, perhaps Daniel will kick off this lesson by sharing the formula he used to ensure that his toys went off while he was in class."

Daniel, who never seemed to be called Dan, was just able to get over his usual shyness to sketch out a rough diagram of the pentagram he'd formed around the school grounds out of the fireworks. "I don't know how it works," he added, "I just got it drilled into my head by my brother before I left home last week."

Naturally, their teacher was able to fill in this information, at least in summary as a part of the day's lesson. So once again it was a very interesting and informative class. Their only homework for the weekend was to pick one arithmantic ritual they'd like to do someday and write a page on why they might be interested in the results. Considering that in light of the similar little writing assignment for history, everyone was very happy to get to their writing class.

"Nobody's ever given me any homework before that wasn't a worksheet," one boy wailed as soon as they were in the room, "you have to help us teacher, cuz now we have a bunch of onc pagers."

"By which you mean three, idiot," replied Crawley.

"Now boys, settle down," said the man in question, as he entered the room. Lowell then obligingly went over the basic outline formula for a paper, and promised to help anybody who came in with a paper during certain times over the weekend when he'd be in his office. Henry was just relieved that the teacher wasn't giving him any funny looks this time in class. Later, when history came around, they were all glad to find that they mostly had a free period, while the professor talked to each of them in turn about the topic, to make sure they'd picked something that would work and had a start on finding books in the library. Henry could hear at least one student get told directions to the library by their cheerful professor. When it seemed like almost everyone had taken a turn, he went to talk to Omagachi.

"Sir, what if I pick some kind of accidental magic one of my classmates told me about and explained what spells they might use to replicate the effects in a controlled fashion?"

"I'd say that you were jumping the gun on next week's assignment, little man," he said, clearly amused. "Tell me what exactly you'd use for each one, and we'll see how far ahead you can actually get in this class, if you want."

"Well, I'd probably just do Carrie for the first, as though it were a real event," he said, before rattling off a few possible spells, "even though it seemed more like an unplanned ritual, what with the blood and all. One of my classmates changed a bunch of people's hair into different colors at once, and I thought it would be neat to know how to do that just for fun, that's all."

The professor laughed at that, "thinking of pranks, are we? Go ahead, write both papers now, and I'll cut you some slack whenever the medics get around to dealing with the black magic infesting your forehead,. Does that sound good?"

"Okay, um thanks," Henry replied, somewhat surprised that the teacher was aware of his problem, "but don't be surprised if I only turn in one of them on Monday, sir. I've god another appointment this weekend."

"Good luck, then, Mr. Carpenter," Omagachi said, patting the boy on the back and toward his seat, before saying in louder tones, "now whom do we have left that hasn't come up with an idea to tell me, hmm? Come on down!"

The rest of the class passed in a blur for Henry, as he no longer had any reason to pay attention to what was happening with the teacher. He did work a bit on his paper, despite some distracting thoughts. Mostly, the fact that apparently the entire staff knew about his little problem. Especially because this wizard thought luck might be needed to resolve the situation. Or that he'd be missing parts of days again as a result.

So, now that he'd been wished luck, Henry was completely paranoid about his next check up with the healers and the others who would help examine him. Granted, there wasn't much he could do about it, any more than he could have helped the cosmetic surgeons who had once dealt with a scar on his forehead, besides continuing to take his nutrient potions, but he still worried. On the off chance he might spend the weekend unconscious or otherwise trapped in the hospital wing, Henry decided to spend his first Friday of the school year hastily finishing all of his homework, in hopes of finishing it all early. He completely occupied a table in the library, near the computers for easy access to typing, and almost missed dinner in his single-minded focus, only remembering in time because of the potions that had to be taken with meals. At dinner, it seemed as though almost everyone else had spent the afternoon occupied by a pick-up game of futball. He didn't even care, eating quickly and dashing off again.

The young wizard did not go to bed until all of his papers were done, and slept poorly, dreaming of someone who resembled Jack Skelington from the Nightmare Before Christmas, rising naked out of a cauldron in a graveyard and setting him on fire by looking at him. Henry kept waking up and screaming at this point, then falling back asleep and dreaming the same thing, with some modifications in the details, such as being tied to a grave stone or being held still by a stone angel, or that people in black robes were watching, but every time it was just as horrible. About two hours before breakfast, he decided to not try and sleep anymore, and instead wandered around the grounds, wondering if his life would have been better in another country, or if magic didn't actually exist, as was the dream of his relatives.

For one thing, he had a sneaking suspicion that the Dixons would have found a reason to hate him in any world, and that magic, therefore, could only help him, in any case. At that point, he found that he'd wandered into the aviary, were he stayed and petted the birds for the last half-hour or so before breakfast, which he barely tasted. Time to face the music, as it were. Henry headed off towards the medical wing of the institute.

"Ah, Mr. Carpenter, very good of you to join us, and very prompt as well," one of the same healers from last time met him in the doorway, "let's just get you measured to see how the potions are working for you."

The man waved his wand around the boy like a metal detector wand, before pointing it at the clipboard in his hand and muttering something that sounded like Latin. He then gestured for Henry to sit on the paper-covered bed in one of the little rooms before dashing off to fetch everyone else. Henry had just settled down when he burst back in, saying, "change of plans, my lad. We're not going to worry about scar removal or your eyes just yet—the nutrient potions seem to have jump started your own magical healing processes."

"So what are you going to do to me?" Henry wasn't sure whether to be glad or worried by this.

"Just follow me to the ritual chamber, and we'll be trying an exorcism on you, Mr. Carpenter," the medic said, seeming unnaturally cheery at the prospect, "I've never seen them do a real exorcism before. It should be very interesting."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Henry muttered as he trailed behind the healer, as they went down the hall. "What if it doesn't go well, will it possess me? Do you people even know what it really is?"

The healer did not answer his question, and they soon arrived at the ritual chamber, which was about the size of a half court in a gym, except with a huge pentagram painted on the floor instead of something related to athletic endeavors. The whole group who had worked on him the last time was already there, looking serious. "We just want to see first how you've been doing since the block was removed," said one of the women, "it is important to know that you are in complete control before we can continue."

"I guess I am," he replied, confusion obvious in his voice, "is there something you want me to do or anything to test that? You do mean my magic, right?"

"Yes, of course. Just a simple light spell with any focus you like, though none is best," the same lady said, "incant lumos. You need to focus on how much power you put into the spell—show us the ball of light shrink and grow at your command, okay?"

Henry nodded, then held his hands together like a little cage, and a ball of light appeared between them. He pulled his hands apart and it expanded to fit, till they were as far apart as he could reach, before he drew his hands back together till they touched and the light went out completely after shrinking down. "Is it okay that I didn't say the incant, or anything?"

"No, that's wonderful," one of the men in professorial robes responded, "now we just need you in the center of the seal. Your job is to keep all of your magic inside yourself while we chant to draw the dark thingy out of you. The last thing we want is for you to charge it up with your power, right?"

"Right, then what will you do with it, once it is out?" He grinned when the man held up a rubber ducky and squeaked it.

"The professor is going to try to trap it in the object for study," said the first healer, "and then he'll probably banish it to the dead where it belongs if it ever was a spirit, rather than a curse."

"Do you want me to sit, stand, or lay down?" Henry said after reaching the center of the room, where he felt very small. The adults were all busily arranging themselves around the outside of the pattern on the floor, which seemed to get more complicated every time he looked at it.

"Go ahead and sit, but do try to stay awake in there, lad," said the man who was placing the ducky in a small floating replica of the pentagram, or seal, or whatever they were calling the design on the floor.

Henry sat down Indian style on the hard floor, and began to concentrated on his magic being like that ball of light, only that it had to stay inside his chest. He could feel it pulsing as they began to chant, and then it felt like his head was going to explode from a dark and pounding pain that rose and fell with the tone of their chanting. Suddenly, it felt like the top of his head was being ripped off, and something long and scaly was trying to uncoil from being wrapped around his ball of magic. Henry groaned very softly, and then clamped down on this bit of magic as well, beads of sweat bursting out on his whole face. Then with a pop, the pain was gone, which surprised and relieved Henry so much that he fainted. The last thing he saw as the world seemed to tip sideways was the ducky turning from yellow to black and dropping down from where it floated to bounce off the ground.

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Far away in another large chamber, a similarly dark item lying in a dusty wardrobe let out a long, keening wail, before returning to its usual stillness. It glittered faintly through the aisles of junk surrounding it under the high ceiling. If any could have seen it, they would most likely had a hard time resisting the desire to pick it up and crown themselves with it, dark or not.

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"Hey Carpenter, you Henreee, Carpenter, wake up!" It actually sounded like Blake's voice, which was odd, considering the boy's perspective on the usage of first names. "I saw your eyes open, Carpenter, now lookie, a bunch of use are going over to the Lentz mission for church, since its their big Epiphany Sunday Luncheon bash, and we'll try to stick around for more fireworks." It was definitely Blake, now that Henry's eyes were open, and his roommate was actually bouncing up and down. "Hey, are you in, Carpenter, will they let you out yet?"

"I just woke up, how about you ask a doctor or healer?" He groaned, "I would like to go, providing I can even stand. Right now, I feel like I got hit by a truck."

"Oh, he's alright, just knocked himself out with a bit of magical exhaustion," interjected the cheerful healer, "so he's good to go if he feels up to it. I'll have one of the golems fetch him some clean clothes to change into."

"What's magical exhaustion? Just what it sounds like, or something worse?" Henry continued, "but I do want to come along Blake, if you can wait for me to get ready."

"You had it right the first time," the healer said, "it's nothing that won't get better with a good night's sleep, but really has nothing to do with your physical state right now, so you can go anytime, not that you're awake." When Henry nodded, he continued, " now, don't forget your potion box, we refilled it for you already, my lad."

"Can you send it to our room so we can go now?" Blake was very eager to leave, handing Henry clothes to hurry him as he got dressed in a regular school uniform. The healer agreed, after giving him one dose to take at dinner that evening. Honestly, considering the dream he'd had the last time he saw fireworks, Henry wasn't sure how excited he was, even if it would be a fun event. It wasn't as though his relatives had gone to church, or even made him go, so he wasn't all that interested in the rest of the day's events either. At least his homework was all done, he thought while lining up for "floo" powder to get to the mission (just throw in an even scoop and yell Lentz mission when you step in the fire). The end of the line was a large open pit fireplace in one of the courtyards.

Suddenly, it was his turn, and Henry found himself whirling in a cloud of green flames and ash, and feeling more than a little bit too dizzy to be able to run out on the other end, the only way to stay on his feet according to the teacher who'd explained the process. Then it was over, and Henry stepped forward and tripped down the pile of logs that made up one of the bonfires in a jungle clearing, landing heavily on Marie, who had gone before him. After apologizing hastily, he staggered away to look at whatever was roasting on the spits over the other fires. He couldn't quite figure out what it had been, but the smell of roasting meat was delicious in the air, so he decided that it didn't matter. It wasn't as though he'd be able to ask the cooks either, since they all seemed to speak only the local pidgin language. Most everyone else from the school seemed to have latched onto the nearest Lentz and were following them around.

Deciding that was lame, Henry wandered around the compound, trying to avoid going into the jungle, where he was sure he'd get lost immediately. Then he noticed that the whole crowd had disappeared into the largest building, so Henry followed, lingering in the doorway nervously when he realized that this was the church. At least, he thought it must be, since there was a big cross and one of those box-table things churches always had in front. This one was decorated with some drawings and things that looked like a kid made them, which he thought was kind of nice. He was just hoping the program would be in pidgin so he'd have an excuse for not understanding what was going on when an older man got up in front and started to talk.

"Let's all welcome the students who came today," then after a pause for scattered clapping, "now we're going to have this second service in English so you kids can understand—you have to come earlier on a day like this to get all pidgin!"

An older boy who looked just like Daniel had also gotten up and was translating into pidgin for the locals. After that, it was mostly songs, which Henry didn't even try to sing, and some readings about the wise men from the nativity scenes. What startled him was the blood ritual at the end, which had even his depleted magic buzzing, despite the fact that he and more than half of the students hadn't participated. Since nobody else seemed to have noticed the power, Henry decided to ask one of the Lentzes later, and not mention what he felt to his classmates. Perhaps they were used to it, since they'd participated before. When it was over, though, everyone was busy stuffing themselves with all kinds of food, and he forgot. At the end, right before the fireworks, a special cake was brought out, and Henry got one of the pieces with a coin in it, which he kept, since he hadn't seen any money from PNG yet.

These fireworks were even more impressive, which meant that they terrified Henry, especially when a giant flaming version of a moray eel bit him and actually singed his shirt. At that, he closed his eyes and focused on home, which already meant the school, his dorm room, with all of his might. With a pop and a twisting sensation, Henry felt an intense sucking sense of movement. When he realized that he could no longer hear any explosions, Henry cautiously opened his eyes to find himself in the entrance hall where they had all gathered his first day at the institute. It was dark and quiet, at least until a teacher burst in on him, gasping as though he had just been running.

"What are-! Henry, what are you doing here?" It was Lowell, the only teacher who seemed unwilling to call him by his last name, "weren't you on the list of kids going to the Lentz mission? They won't be getting back till eight at least, I heard. Who set off the apparating wards?"

"What's apparating? I don't see anyone else here, but I just popped in a few moments ago when I was thinking about the school," Henry chuckled in what he hoped was a rueful manner, "I was there, but the excitement really tired me out and I couldn't stop thinking about my bed."

"So, crack! And you were just here?" Lowell's tone was quite suspicious.

"No, pop! And I was here," he corrected, "except I didn't want to come to this room or anything."

"Apparating is what it's called when a wizard or witch just pops from one place to another, and the school has wards to prevent people from arriving anywhere but here," Lowell explained in teacher mode, "you must have done so accidentally—you won't learn how to do it for a few more years, at least officially."

"Ok, thanks professor, I'll keep my new skill on the down-low," Henry grinned, "goodnight," then skipped off towards his room.

"As if he'll be able to do it some other time on purpose," the teacher muttered to himself, "I won't be held responsible if he splinches himself all over the place."

Upon reaching his bed that evening, Henry slept easily and deeply, having no dreams, for all that he did wake up at his usual time, bright and early on Monday morning. The school was bustling with older students, who seemed to have all arrived throughout the afternoon the day before, while he and the younger students had been at the Lentz mission. At breakfast, the new students stayed in their usual cluster near the food serving line, but any time an older sibling came by, they would snatch away the younger one to come sit with them, at least this once. Some of them muttered things about parents wanting a report on how their "baby" was doing, or having to look out for them now that bigger kids were around. Most of their conversations were about summer activities, and how lame it was that the institute started so much sooner than regular shcools.

Despite the presence of all the older students, this week went much the same as the first, though with more people in the halls, and a much less tranquil library. Henry even had another episode with the Crawley boy, though this time he simply charged a stone in his pocket, keeping the altercation verbal. There were also a lot of posters staring to go up advertising various extracurricular activities and sports having meetings in the next week or so, or tryouts. Some of them definitely seemed more interesting to others, and Henry decided to compile a list for his own purposes, to help him decide which to try out or visit. It would be nice to finally be able to join a sports team, now that his cousin wasn't around to stop him. He was hoping, of course, that he wouldn't need parental permission forms, since it was a boarding school.

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Clubs

Chess

French

Art

Spanish

Latin

X Horse Riding

Russian

Gobstones

German

Video Games

X Fencing

Japanese

Archery

Sports

X Quidditch

X Quodpot

X Rugby

X Futbol

Cross Country

Cricket

Track and Field

Rowing

Dancing

X Dueling

X Mixed Martial Arts

Study Groups

Arithmancy

Ancient Runes

Defense

Charms

Ritual Magic

Animagery

Aboriginal Languages

Potions

Healing

Botany

Alchemy

Creatures

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All of the study groups and language clubs required that you be in a class of that subject in order to join, so Henry was eager for their next quarter, when they were offered their first foreign language choices. Most of the sports required parental permission, so he crossed them off this list, with an X, along with the horse riding and fencing clubs. At least permission wouldn't be needed once he reached a particular age for some of them, so he could maybe try later. He was only worried now that some of them would require prior experience, instead of simply teaching from the ground up. Otherwise, he'd only be able to go to study groups, and as helpful as they'd be for getting the good grades he'd need to keep his scholarship, Henry knew that people really made friends in sports, and he wanted to be in for once.

The first meeting he went to was the chess club, on Tuesday after dinner. They were a very friendly group, though mostly boys, but he wouldn't be able to join till he had some money again, as their only requirement was that he have a wizard chess set. He went to all of the study groups, especially since some of them had different names than his classes, and he wasn't sure which he could be in. The Arithmancy group got added to his schedule, along with the potions and botany study groups. Most of the others were for higher-level students. He'd actually found that out from one of the older kids in the chess club, and that it was best to just know when the study groups were meeting, so you could go when you did need help. They weren't actually like a club with membership or anything required.