"Everyone give it up for our representative and all around badass mister Harrrrryyyyy Potterrrrr!" Harry grinned at Warrington, the tall boy had always carried a dramatic and theatrical streak. The Slytherin Common Room was abuzz with House Pride and celebration as they celebrated the fact that one of their own had dominated the competition so thoroughly. Of course Harry had never been treated as one of their own, nor had they shown a lot of support preceding the first task, but he didn't dwell on such thoughts. For once he just enjoyed the sensation of being celebrated.

With a triumphant roar, Harry hoisted the egg above his head, basking in the chants of Potter that filled his ears as hands slapped his back in a completely foreign display of camaraderie. He tried hard not to roll his eyes at the yells of 'Knew you had it in you, Potter.' If it was up to these people he wouldn't have made it past age 12, much less into the Triwizard Tournament. The nature of the student body had always been fickle in regards to most matters but Harry, by virtue of being a Slytherin had mostly escaped that fact. He had always been deemed to be evil and backstabbing simply due to the colors on his tie. The belief that Slytherin House, and all those within it, were an evil lot was so deeply ingrained in the psyche of his fellow students that sometimes he truly had to ponder which side of the war had been more prejudiced. The wizarding world didn't even comprehend the problems that accompanied such a drastic and hasty generalization, after all they had made slytherin house irredeemable by speaking it into being. The prejudice and hatred that defined their society had made it so that no one even wanted to get into slytherin. It was polarizing. Almost no one of sound moral character came into slytherin because they wanted to avoid their own vilification while all those who weren't of sound moral character entered slytherin hoping to find strength in numbers. The values of the house weren't inherently bad, sure, cunning did not have a necessarily positive connotation, but ambition defined all the great wizards their society so revered. Albus Dumbledore was certainly ambitious, as was Merlin. But the world had fallen victim to the very thing it wished to destroy and slytherin became just another casualty of the perpetual cycle of hate and ignorance that had sown itself deep into their society.

Harry shook himself out of his musings, while the institutional and systemic flaws of their society were most certainly worthy of consideration now was neither the time nor the place. Tonight he would celebrate. Not the fact that Slytherin house had 'earned great prestige' or the idea that he was a 'honored representative'. No, today he would celebrate the fact that he had faced a dragon and he was still alive to tell the tale. With a grin Harry reached for the nearest bottle, an expensive looking fire whiskey, and removed its lid. He marched forward, the gathered crowd parting in front of him, and leapt onto a table in the center of the common room. It creaked slightly under his weight but he paid it no mind as he turned to face his house. "I'm not going to lie and pretend like we were on the same team all along. I'm not going to lie and say none of you bet against me. I'm not going to lie and say we haven't had our issues. But we are Slytherin! We are one house and it does not matter what happens within this room because when the outside world comes knocking we stand together." With a grandstanding grin he raised the golden egg above his head, "That means that for once they bow to us!" Harry said, his voice a passionate yell as the room dissolved into cheers and clapping. He didn't believe what he said and honestly he couldn't care less about house pride, but it's what they wanted and he would give it to them. Not for free, of course. No, he would give it to them so that he would have a power base. A place within this school where he could muster his forces, where he could find allies even if they would never be his friends. Also, it would be nice to be the hero and pride of the House for once. Maybe it would even get him a little closer to a dalliance with some of the more attractive witches in his house. Merlin knew that he would never want to date most of them but he wasn't opposed to the idea of some short term interhouse bonding…

With a slightly lecherous grin, Harry liberated himself from his considerations and raised his bottle with a cry of, "Now let's get this fucking party started!"

That statement generated an even larger round of applause than the previous one as the crowd began to disperse slightly, mingling amongst themselves as people wandered towards the tables that were stacked with a very generous assortment of liquor. Harry stayed standing on his table, taking long swigs from the bottle of firewhiskey in his hand as the party slowly began to pick up in pace. It wasn't long before someone brought forth a wireless and music filled the air. Harry grinned to himself, hopping off his table as he moved through the crowd and towards the center of the room, his bottle still clutched firmly in his hand. Harry wandered confidently, his mind abuzz with the excitement in the air and the alcohol thrumming in his stomach. He walked aimlessly, drinking and talking before he finally spotted his target. There, amongst a group of 4th and 5th year girls, stood Tracey Davis.

Tracey was a short girl, roughly 5"6' and only reaching his shoulder unless she wore elevated shoes. She had curly dark brown hair that fell seamlessly down her shoulders, coming to a rest right above her chest. Her hair framed a pretty face with soft features and chocolate brown eyes. Around her stood an assorted group of girls, amongst them notable faces such as Daphne Greengrass and Millicient Bullstrode from his own year and Jeanette Rosier from 5th year. That would complicate things, Harry mused to himself. Daphne and Jeanette were both prospects he would love to pursue but they were too closed off, too severe. Tracey on the other hand was a bubbly and talkative girl which would make establishing a connection far easier. Also, she was nice, both personality wise and morally.

His aims defined, target found and confidence high, Harry moved forward. He still needed to figure out how to isolate her, Sirius had told him that was the first step towards success. He was only a couple meters away when the perfect solution popped into his head. With a twirl of his wand and a series of switching spells, a table filled with alcohol stood behind them. The slytherins gave forth a rambunctious cheer reminiscent of their gryffindor counterparts and charged towards the table, dividing the group in the process. Smirking slightly deviously, Harry joined the commotion, letting himself be dragged with the crowds until he saw his opportunity and bumped gently into Tracey.

She turned towards him, her lips parting and teeth flashing as a bright smile came across her face as she caught sight of him. "Harry!" She said, using the occasion to hug him longer than appropriate and definitely longer than expected. Innerly Harry grinned, maybe this would be a lot easier than anticipated. Harry returned her easy going grin, inhaling the scent of her perfume as he did. She smelled nice.

"Heya, Tracey." He said, lips curling into a slightly crooked smile and eyes shimmering with the residual happiness spawned from his victory. "Want a drink?" He asked, lifting the bottle he still had clasped in his hands, invitingly. His only response was an eager nod and a cheerful smile, as her hands took the bottle from him, her fingers resting along his a little too long for it to have been a coincidence and this time Harry openly grinned. Either Tracey didn't notice or she didn't mind as she took a big swig of the alcohol. Her eyes bulged abruptly as the searing sensation spread along her throat and she spluttered slightly, Harry laughed, moving towards her and taking the bottle out of her hands as he hit her back gently.

"Woah there, Tracey," he said, an infectious laughter in his tone, "leave some for me." Tracey glared at him for laughing, but the effect was ruined by her flushed cheeks and the upwards quirk of her lip.

She swallowed firmly, blinking a couple times, before she finally opened her mouth. "What the bloody hell was in that?!"

"Firewhiskey," Harry said, shrugging but a mischievous smile played along his lips, "you probably shouldn't have attempted to chug the whole thing."

Tracey laughed, "I do dumb things sometimes." She said suggestively, her eyes darting down at his lips as she did.

Score. Harry thought, resisting the urge to punch the air with a titanic strength of will. "Well, far be it for me to reprimand you for it." Harry murmured, stepping slightly closer to her. Not close enough that they were touching, but closer than appropriate, and close enough for her to faintly feel the heat of his breath upon her skin.

"Oh?" She asked, her voice soft, as she too stepped forward, their bodies slightly touching. "And why's that?"

"I've been told I'm something stupid," Harry said, his eyes staring into hers as his head lowered slightly, smiling as he saw her chin rise, her eyes on his as she inched closer slowly.

"Well then, Harry," Dumbledore said, his head resting on his interlocked hands as he stared at Harry with twinkling blue eyes hidden behind half moon glasses, "that was quite the show you delivered at the first task. I must confess, I wasn't aware you had discovered and delved into powers through appeal." It had been two days since Harry had delivered what was arguably the most intriguing spectacle Hogwarts had seen in centuries, and now he sat in the office of the wizened old headmaster.

"Powers through appeal, sir?" Harry asked.

"Why yes," Dumbledore said jovially, "powers through appeal." Seeing Harry's unknowing look, Dumbledore explained. "Magic, as we have tried to define it, comes in several forms. The most common of which is through the so-called Magical Core. It's a slightly misleading name, for there's no tangible pool of power within one's body, however it conveys the concept nicely enough." Seeing that he had Harry's full attention, Dumbledore smiled and continued, "In this form of Magic all the energy comes from within. From you. It's what we use for most spells. It is, in a way, an extension of one's self through the arm of magic. It is also, in part, responsible for what separates wizards such as Grindelwald, Voldemort, Myself and someday you and Neville Longbottom from the majority of the population. A natural predisposition towards Magic, combined with a larger core gives some wizards an innate advantage when it comes to practical applications. It is why, despite years of training and experience, someone like Professor Moody couldn't defeat Lord Voldemort in battle."

"But why, sir? Why do some people have a larger core than others?"

"I'm afraid, that no one knows. There have been many theories, of course, but without any way to measure them there has been no way to establish correlations. One could make an argument for Half Bloods considering some of the prominent wizards of the past century but then people like Grindelwald break this correlation and strand us back at square one." Dumbledore said, musing to himself as he pondered the mysteries of magic.

"Is it possible to grow one's core? To increase it? Like a muscle?"

"Not quite. The magical core, based on what we know, is finite. While it grows it only does so in relation to age. But just because one cannot grow it does not mean one cannot increase its capabilities. Through practice and experience you will learn the greatest secret to power; efficiency. However, that should not distract us from your inquiry! Now, the second form of Magic, we have defined as ritualistic magic. Which, as you know, is fundamentally based in the usage of the ambient magic of our surroundings. It is, in a sense, a branch of magic which draws not on the individual but on the communal. It calls on the traces of our societies and those before us, on the magic of nature and the power of resonating language to transform the world."

"Resonating, sir?"

"In a way, Harry, I have always thought that it was language not magic which was humanity's greatest tool. Yet, exploration has revealed that the two are intertwined, the extent of which has eluded me for years. However, one thing we do know is that magic leaves a trace and this trace is amplified by magic which is linked to words. It is why, despite many popular beliefs, magic is more powerful today than it was yesterday. Every act, every word and every spell leaves a trace and by invoking that same magic the power which remained in this world, as a trace, resonates through us anew. It is truly fascinating. It's part of what saturates this castle so, or why Stonehenge is such a powerful ritualistic site. It is also why magic, to this day, is mostly taught in Latin. Haven't you ever wondered why we teach in a language so rarely spoken? Well, in case you have, the answer is simple: resonance. It was in the days of Rome that magic became quantized, and therefore these are the most abundant resonances in the world." Dumbledore smiled at the fascinated look in Harry's eyes, this was what had drawn him to education in the first place after all.

"This ties in directly into the third form of magic which started this whole conversation," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. "Magic through appeal is, well, the most mystical variant. It, in a way, makes the Caster into a form of wand for powers far beyond our comprehension."

"Gods, sir?"

"I suppose you could refer to them as that," Dumbledore said, thoughtfully, "then again what is a god? Alas that seems a far more philosophical question than this discussion warrants, however one I believe you should consider on your own. Regardless, these beings were godly when compared to regular mortals, yet, they weren't omnipotent nor were they born powerful. They were humans once. Extraordinary humans, but humans nonetheless. Their power and in particular their influence, have made them eternal."

"What do you mean with influence, sir? Do you mean the legacies of their magic or their place in the minds of others?"

Dumbledore smiled at him brightly, "Both, my boy! It is their influence which strengthens the resonance they have left in our world to such an extent that, to this day, a specter remains. They are seemingly powerless to act directly, bear in mind that there are no concrete answers to these sorts of questions, yet when appealed to they are able to channel their formidable might through an earthly being. The body of the wizard invoking their name and their legacy, in this case you, becomes a conduit, a lightning rod which feasts on the long gone powers of these deities to augment their own strength to an overwhelming extent."

"Sir, if these beings, these 'gods' so to say, are capable of channeling their might through me, are they also capable of channeling their will through me? Is magic through appeal an avenue towards becoming possessed?"

"An excellent question, Harry!" Dumbledore praised, "As far as I am aware, the only form of control these beings can exert over your will is the addictive nature of their powers. Many of those who venture down this path become dependent on the strength of others. It, quite like the Dark Arts, is utterly intoxicating. The glory, the awe, the opportunities…" Dumbledore said, trailing off slightly as he was seemingly lost in memories. With a shake of his head, the headmaster refocused, his smile and twinkle returning to a slightly diminished extent, "Well, a lesser man can get lost in them."

"If this power is so immense, why was the tournament the first time I have seen magic through appeal? Surely, others, especially those who lust for power, would seek out this kind of magic?"

"The answer to this very question is the exact reason why magic through appeal is not taught within the confines of this school, nor is it mentioned in many books. The sources one can reliably draw upon for this sort of knowledge I can count on one hand." Dumbledore said, leaning forward and resting his chin on his gnarled hands, "Magic through appeal is inconsistent. Simply put, one must be deemed worthy by the specter to be able to channel their power which has led many who attempted the magic but were unable to achieve any results to discount them. They believe them to be myths. Stories and fables that have no place in an enlightened world."

"So the specter of the Wizard known as Zeus deemed me worthy of his power?"

"It certainly appears so." Dumbledore said, frowning slightly, "Yet several details of the day still elude me. The sources on magic through appeal are rare, incredibly so, and your inexperience concerning the magic you used is most disconcerting. This in conjunction with the approval of your appeal is truly intriguing. So Harry, if I may ask, where did you find this chant?"

"I didn't, sir."

"So someone else informed you of it?"

"Maybe…? I'm unsure, all I know is that the words spilled over my lips through no effort on my behalf. I didn't realize I had never heard the chant before until I was lying in bed that day… What's happening to me, sir?"

"That is worrying but nothing terrible." Dumbledore said assuading his fears, yet the consolations seemed insincere. "We will conduct some further research into this matter."

"I just have one last question, Professor." Harry said, hesitantly. At seeing Dumbledore's encouraging nod, Harry leaned forward and spoke, "What makes someone worthy and how, well, rare is this?"

"The details of worthiness are dependent on the individual specters, yet they always require an extraordinary wizard. And as to rarity, the only time I have ever experienced power through appeal was when Gellert Grindelwald channeled the power of the hideous and monstrous Evgi to devastate an entire company of French Wizards at the battle of the Ardennes."

"Neither you or Voldemort have ever successfully appealed?"

"I have never managed magic through appeal, although I do believe it is simply a matter of time until I find the correct specter for me. As far as Tom is concerned, I am aware of only one time that he attempted to summon a specter. He summoned the Greek God of death Thanatos during a battle on the outskirts of Hogsmeade in 1974."

"What happened? Was he successful?"

"No, Harry, he was not. In fact, Thanatos turned the tide of the battle in our favor through the purposefully powerful magical backlash he caused when refusing to bond with Tom. All I remember from that day was a thunderous voice bellowing 'Tom Marvolo Riddle, you have sinned against the principles of your existence. You are an abomination. An insult to not just your people but to Magic as a whole. BEGONE.'"

"An abomination, sir?"

"An abomination." Dumbledore affirmed, "But I believe that is a discussion for another time." Then he stood, walking around the left side of the table and coming to a stop across from one of the many shelves that adorned this room. He reached past the tinkering silver devices, past the candles, into what was clearly a magically expanded space beyond the wall. As he retracted his hand Harry saw a quick shimmer of white before the wall reappeared and the glimpse ended. Dumbledore turned towards him, an old yet pristinely preserved book in his hand. It was thin and unassuming, a simple black leather cover shielding what couldn't be more than 300 pages. The title The Powers Beyond Us And How to Reach Them was written in elegant white calligraphy that didn't even begin to hint at the tremendous power of the knowledge held within that book. Dumbledore smiled at him, his eyes holding a slightly nostalgic glint as he glanced down at the book in his hand. "This, Harry, is possibly the most complete encyclopedia of Magic through Appeal. Use it well."

Harry reached out carefully, his fingers trailing across the book reverently as Dumbledore gently placed it into his hands. "I will, sir. I promise."

"I know." Dumbledore said, smiling. "But now, off with you! You shouldn't spend your entire day talking to a doddering old fool." As he watched the young man grin and stand, thanking him for his time before leaving, Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore reflected on his own past. He saw so much of himself in Harry. The drive, the intellect, the power. It was all so reminiscent of him in his youth. But Harry was even better than he ever was. He was responsible, kind and selfless. Albus Dumbledore was well aware of his own flaws. He knew they were numerous. He was self-righteous, often arrogant and secretive. But Harry didn't have to share his flaws. He could educate him. Show him the right path, teach him the right lessons and instill the right values. Harry could be his legacy. Not his offices, not his duel with Grindelwald and not even his academic discoveries could compare with the pride he felt when watching his student. Exercising restraint when possible, yet never backing down from a fight that he thought was right.

Yes, Albus Dumbledore had finally found someone he knew could protect the world better than he ever had.