Chapter Six: First Thursday
The Four dragged themselves out of bed at 7:30 the next morning, bleary-eyed and grumpy and definitely not kindly disposed towards Astronomy. As they trooped down to the Great Hall after quick showers, they agreed that they would drop the subject if they possibly could. The sight of their suffering classmates at breakfast did nothing to weaken this resolve.
They still managed to be quite early for Charms, and Professor Flitwick invited them in once more.
"Astronomy not treating you well?" he asked wryly, noting their wretched faces.
"Yeah," said Ron, "you might say that."
Flitwick grinned roguishly. "How would you like to not study Astronomy anymore?"
"We'd discussed that," said Hermione, deadpan, making Neville struggle to suppress a smile as Flitwick's gaze snapped abruptly to her face.
"You had?"
She nodded, serious now. "We had. It doesn't seem particularly useful or necessary, and it's far too disruptive."
Flitwick nodded.
"I can't promise anything, but I rather suspect that you four have had your last Astronomy class. Is there anything else you've discussed dropping?"
He swept a piercing gaze across the Four, which all of them were bright enough to notice.
Harry grinned impudently at the tiny legend in front of him.
"Well we haven't actually discussed this, but I don't think we'll be going to the Flying lessons anymore."
Flitwick's eyebrows jumped.
"Really? I'd have thought you'd all jump at the chance."
"Not quite," said Harry. "We'll definitely be flying with Madam Hooch, but it wouldn't make much sense for us to go to the regular lessons anymore. Ron's a good flier already, Hermione and Neville are OK, and apparently I'm so good that Nimbus is going to send me prototypes to test."
Flitwick staggered back a few paces and sat down heavily.
"What exactly did Rolanda say to you, Harry? She's an extraordinary flier herself, and knows everything there is to know about it."
Harry blushed.
"She said I was much better than her, for a start - she had me try out a prototype Nimbus Two Thousand, and she said she hadn't thought the broom could do what I made it do."
"Merlin." was Flitwick's only comment, and silence fell for a minute or two.
Finally Flitwick roused himself.
"I don't know why I'm so surprised - you've already shown that the usual rules don't apply to you - but I must admit that I really didn't expect you to be a flying prodigy also. For that you must be a complete natural, which is quite different from anything that makes you exceptional in my class."
Harry shrugged. "It just seemed easy."
Flitwick shook his head in disbelief, but let it pass.
"Mr Potter," he said after a moment, "shall I take from this that flying extremely well on a broomstick falls within your remit of achieving greatness?"
Harry nodded. "Of course. If I'm ridiculously good at it right from the start, and it's something that people care about, then why wouldn't I pursue it?"
"Understood, Mr Potter, understood. I merely wished to be certain."
After a moment, Hermione spoke up.
"Professor, we have some errands to run in Diagon Alley - most importantly, Ron and Neville both need wands that are actually matched to them. Is there any chance that we could impose on you for an hour or so sometime soon?"
Flitwick stared at her for a moment, then favoured Ron and Neville with a look of frank disbelief.
"Do you mean to tell me that you two were using unmatched wands in our previous lessons?"
The boys nodded awkwardly.
"Mine's my dad's," said Neville.
"I've got Charlie's old wand," said Ron.
Flitwick muttered something under his breath, anger written plainly on his face, then he raised his voice a little beyond normal speaking volume.
"That is appalling. No witch or wizard should ever be without a properly matched wand, and I am frankly horrified that your families allowed it. I would take you to Diagon Alley right this minute if we had the time to spare, but unfortunately that is not the case. I must see Albus after lunch today and we all must see him after dinner, so today is out. Straight after breakfast tomorrow, however, we shall go to Diagon Alley and rectify this absurd state of affairs. For now I ask that you assist your classmates in our lesson this morning, and I shall see you at 3:30 for your proper lesson - I doubt you'll attend terribly many more of my first-year classes, but I shall continue to make myself available to you from 3:30pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays."
"Thank you," said Neville quietly, and the other three chimed in to agree.
The other students started arriving not long after that, and the class went off without a hitch. The Four drifted around the classroom individually, helping their classmates. They were extremely effective - in most cases the problem was solved within a minute or two, and in the more difficult instances the Four would work together. When they worked together, they were almost inhumanly good at explaining things usefully - the very best teachers might be able to present a given piece of material in a number of different ways, tailored to different students and different learning styles, but very few indeed could match the combined efforts of four prodigies making use of their own varying learning styles. Flitwick, drifting around the room on much the same errand, paid some attention to how the Four worked; no matter how many decades he had spent as a teacher, he was always trying to improve.
This time Flitwick didn't keep the Four back to talk - they had talked already, they were expecting to see each other again in only a few hours, and he knew that their next class was Transfiguration with Minerva. Quite apart from Transfiguration being an important subject, even Filius Flitwick was not at all keen to incur the wrath of Minerva McGonagall.
The Four arrived in McGonagall's class only a few minutes early, and sat down quietly to wait. Once their classmates had all arrived, a cat that had been sitting on the teacher's desk suddenly leaped into the air and transformed into Professor McGonagall. The class gasped, and she certainly had their attention. After a brief pause, she began to speak.
"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."
Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. After some rather tedious note-taking, the students were each given a match and told to turn it into a needle.
The Four, of course, watched each other's first attempts closely. Harry accidentally set his match on fire and had to get a new one, but otherwise their progress was quick and sure. A few minutes before the end of the lesson, Hermione's match abruptly locked onto the form of a needle. The boys were so close behind her that the last of them, Ron, had a perfect needle on his desk by the time Professor McGonagall reached Hermione to congratulate her.
Minerva McGonagall, meanwhile, was utterly gobsmacked. She had heard from Albus what Filius thought of these children and their talents, but it was another matter entirely to see them perform wonders in her own subject right in front of her.
"Very well done, Miss Granger, and also Misters Potter, Longbottom and Weasley. I have never seen anyone master that charm so quickly - not James Potter, nor even myself. I cannot say for certain, but I believe that Albus Dumbledore himself did not master it so readily. Twenty points to Gryffindor - five each - for extraordinary academic achievement!"
She dismissed the class shortly thereafter, and they all trooped off to lunch. She didn't hold the Four behind to talk, choosing only to smile meaningfully at them - she knew they'd be seeing one another in the Headmaster's office after dinner in any case.
The afternoon contained nothing more eventful than Charms for the Four, first a few hours' study on their own and then an hour and a half with Professor Flitwick. As expected, they continued to make rapid progress.
After dinner, the Four gathered in front of the gargoyles protecting the staircase to the Headmaster's office. A moment later, Professors Flitwick and McGonagall arrived and let them in, and they went up the impossible moving spiral together.
Entering Dumbledore's office, they found the man sitting behind his desk and wearing a thoughtful expression. He waved them all to seats, which they took. Pomona Sprout was already sitting, looking similarly thoughtful.
"Well," said Dumbledore, "I suppose we should get started. Which of you young people is most like a leader to you all, would you say?"
The Four looked at each other in confusion, and this time it was Neville who spoke for them.
"That really depends, sir. If it's something that one of us is really good at, like me with Herbology or Hermione with pretty much everything else, then that's who'll usually take the lead. If there isn't an obvious choice like that, then we'll wait a moment and then it's pretty much random which of us actually speaks up. I don't think we have a leader overall, honestly."
Dumbledore looked surprised, but accepted Neville's answer.
"Very well," he said. "I shall speak to all of you, then, and listen to whoever happens to answer me. Strange, but such is the way of the world. Now, would you all like permission to skip any and all classes in favour of pursuing your own studies however you see fit?"
None of the Four said anything to that, but their enormous grins were answer enough. He continued.
"Now, I have spoken with Filius about this, but let's be clear. I understand that you wish to discontinue Astronomy entirely; for this you have my permission. Is there any other subject which you wish to discontinue outright, rather than merely studying on your own?"
Harry shrugged. "Not really, no. Everything else is useful, including History of Magic if we actually study it right."
This earned him a brilliant smile from Hermione.
Dumbledore cleared his throat and went on, standing up as he did so.
"Excellent, we can certainly accommodate that. Now, we have also arranged something rather more unusual."
He handed each of the Four a small stack of parchment, then rocked back on his heels and waited. After a few seconds, Hermione let out a high-pitched "Eep!" as she was the first to figure out what these parchments were.
"Wow," she breathed. "Master timetables for every subject? Including NEWTs? So we're allowed to just show up to any classes we like, whenever we like?"
Dumbledore chuckled at the sheer incredulity in her voice.
"Yes, Miss Granger. You have the run of the school, all of you, and you may attend whichever classes you wish. I ask only that you do not disrupt any classes - I'm sure you wouldn't, but I had to say it anyway."
"Of course, Headmaster."
Hermione was bouncing on the balls of her feet, practically dancing on the spot, and the boys weren't much calmer. This was beyond what they had hoped for.
After a moment's silence, Flitwick turned to Dumbledore.
"Albus, I learned today that Mr Weasley and Mr Longbottom do not yet have matched wands - Mr Weasley has his brother's old wand, and Mr Longbottom his father's."
Dumbledore opened his mouth to object vehemently, but subsided as Filius held up a hand and continued talking.
"I wish to take these four to Diagon Alley tomorrow morning to buy, among other things, wands. Have you any objection?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "Not at all, Filius, not at all."
The ancient wizard held up a hand as Filius had a moment ago, staring at nothing in particular as his brow crinkled with thought. He stood like that for a full minute, tension clear in every line of his body as he wrestled with himself. In the end he relaxed, and even smiled.
"Filius, could I ask you to take Mr Potter to Gringotts? Upon reflection, it has become clear to me that we are best served by giving this young man full control over his affairs as soon as possible - obviously none can pace them in their learning, and I have no doubt but that the same will be true in other matters."
Flitwick looked extremely surprised - he had known Albus a very long time and this was highly unusual - but nodded vehemently. He agreed with his old friend's new position.
Dumbledore, meanwhile, had turned towards Harry.
"Harry," he said. "Harry. You are an extraordinary young man, and with your friends you will undoubtedly achieve great things. Against my usual prudence, I have decided to cede to you a great deal of power which would normally be kept in trust until you are of age. Should you abuse this power such that you yourself are seriously harmed, both I and the world will hold me largely responsible. Should you abuse this power such that others are seriously harmed, the same is true. I am trusting you a great deal here, Harry Potter - I beg of you that you treat this trust with care."
Harry bowed - somehow it seemed like the right thing to do. As he straightened again, he met the Headmaster's gaze directly and answered him no less directly.
"I understand, Headmaster, and thank you. Thank you very much for having faith in me."
Dumbledore nodded in acknowledgement, and the moment passed.