Harry had spent the whole night gazing out at the castle from his dormitory window and was completely knackered. He hadn't even noticed how tired he was, so lost was he in the grandeur, the sheer magnificence of what was before him. Still, when he tried to get to bed, he found the sensations unbearable. After tossing and turning for a few minutes, he threw the covers aside, got dressed and went down to the common room. The fire was still lit, and he found a large, comfortable armchair right in front of it.
He had only been in dreamland for about half an hour when he felt a presence. Well, two actually. The first was somewhere to his right. He could place that one quite definitely, but not give it shape, size, or any kind of identity. He could only tell it was there. The other was in his own head, and this one he could not describe at all, except maybe to say that something was waking up.
'Harry, that's you, you plank.' He tried to comfort himself with this thought, but it wouldn't settle in his head. Somehow, he just knew it was something else.
The flickering light of the common room fire pulled his eyelids, kicking and screaming, open, and showed him...
"Ginny."
She smiled slightly, looking a little groggy herself, although he had no doubt that he looked far worse.
"Hey, Harry," she whispered back.
He suddenly realised he'd been looking into her eyes for quite a while and coughed, looking towards the fire instead.
"Um, what time is it?" he asked quietly, unsure of why they were conversing in whispers and murmurs but unable to buck the trend now that they were.
"About four," she replied. She sat down gently on the arm of his chair and let her legs swing a little.
"Get much sleep?" he asked, keeping his eyes resolutely on the flames before him.
"A lot more than you, by the look of it," she said, and giggled when he groaned and flopped over the other arm of the chair. "What's wrong, Harry?"
"Nothing. I just... never mind," he muttered, sinking back into the chair slightly.
"Tell me what's wrong, Harry. Please?" He turned to look at her, and it was his undoing. He just knew he couldn't not talk to her, not trust her, as soon as he looked into those big, brown eyes.
"I just ... well, I'm not used to this," he managed, hesitantly. When she didn't say anything, he went on. "It's just so, so comfortable and nice and... It's weird. I can't explain it."
"Yeah," Ginny agreed. "It's pretty brilliant. I love it back at the Burrow, but this is like the lap of luxury or something. What's it like back home for you, Harry?"
He couldn't help it; he turned completely away from her. He couldn't let her or anyone else know what his life had been like before Hagrid came.
"It doesn't matter," he finally said. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Harry..."
"No," he said sharply. 'Why do I not like that look on her face right now?'
"And what if I asked Hagrid?"
"Ginny..." She was smirking with pride at her victory. And it was a victory, he knew it. She was never going to let go of this.
"Come on, Harry..."
"Leave it alone," he grumbled.
"Harry, you can trust me," she said soothingly. She slipped into the large armchair beside him, and he scooted over, not wanting her to lull him into giving something away.
"It's a pretty long story."
"I guessed, but I'm not all that bothered," she said, nodding towards the window, which was glowing with a golden light from the newly risen sun. Harry didn't even notice what she was talking about for a while - he'd been watching how her hair seemed to shimmer with the light.
"Look, you probably don't even want to know..." Harry began.
"Yes, I do," she contested fervently.
"You don't know what it is," Harry challenged.
"So I can't decide yet," Ginny fired back. "Better to know and try to forget than to live the rest of your life wondering."
"Did you come up with that?" Harry asked.
Ginny shrugged and smiled.
"Either way, I don't want to say," Harry said, "so just let it go."
"But why, Harry?" Ginny wheedled. "We're friends, aren't we? We can tell each other things."
"You wouldn't want to be my friend," Harry said quietly.
"That's a load of crap, Harry," Ginny replied defiantly. "Real friends don't stop being friends over stuff that happened in the past. Dad said so, and Bill agrees with him."
"You don't want to know this," Harry protested again. 'Things are going so well! Let it stay that way for crying out loud.'
"Let me decide that," Ginny replied.
"Can't you just forget about this?" Harry asked desperately. "As a favour? I'd do anything!"
"Oh, Harry," Ginny said softly. "You really shouldn't make offers like that, especially with the twins around. I'll take you up on that."
Harry's alarm at her initial response dissipated as she agreed to his request. "Thanks, Ginny."
"Oh, I doubt it," she replied. "In return, I'd like you to remind me about this, and explain it in detail. Now."
Harry gaped. Betrayal.
She shrugged. "I'm good at getting my way, Harry. I'm sorry, really, but I'd have found out anyway."
He gritted his teeth and turned away again. "Fine."
She put a hand on his shoulder. "If it's that serious, you should tell someone anyway. Bill always says it's not healthy to keep stuff bottled up."
"You got more tips from the big brother on hand?" Harry sighed, resigned to the situation. "Like maybe how to keep his little sister from asking personal questions?"
"Possibly, but he was never very good at that," she giggled. "Go on, Harry. No matter what it is, we're still friends, I swear it. I swear it on... Dammit, I swear on my power as a witch that I, Ginevra Molly Weasley, will remain the friend of Harry James Potter, regardless of whatever he may now tell me of his life before Hogwarts. I will never reveal it, willingly or otherwise to another person or people, and I shall support him through whatever is bothering him about it. So mote it be."
Her eyes filled with white light for a moment.
"Whoa," Harry breathed. "What was that?"
"Standard magically binding verbal contract," Ginny replied. "Be careful what you agree to. There are oaths that can kill you if you don't fulfil them, and worse."
"Tell me you're kidding," Harry gasped, going a little pale at the thought.
"No," Ginny said. "So you've got my word. I don't know how to do anything more advanced. I got that one from Bill. Mum wouldn't tell us how to perform any magical contracts, because Fred and George tried to get Ron to make an Unbreakable Vow. That's the one that kills you."
"They did?" Harry exclaimed, going paler still.
"I doubt they knew exactly how it was done, but they got caught anyway," Ginny answered. She left him to gather his thoughts for a bit before pressing him again. "Go on, Harry. What is it about where you live that you don't want to talk about?"
Harry struggled with himself, suddenly realising that he actually didn't know how to tell her at all. It was made worse by the fact that, despite her oath, he was trying to lessen the impact of the story. "Well, you see, the people I used to live with, um, weren't very nice," he began. Ginny's brow furrowed as she frowned slightly at him. Seeing that he wasn't getting his point across, and that she was not leaving without answers, he pushed himself on. "I wasn't really ever home there, if you know what I mean. They never let me feel at home, because they kind of made it clear that I wasn't at their level."
"Tell me what they did, Harry," she whispered softly.
"I... they..." he stammered. "They made me do everything for them since I was old enough to hold a pan," he said. The bitterness was barely noticeable over the years of resignation. "They... they beat me if I didn't get things done fast enough for them." Ginny gasped, and he glanced up at her before continuing. He'd gone too far to stop now, anyway. "My cousin, Dudley, him and his gang, well," he pointed at his heavily taped glasses, which could still clearly be seen to be broken in several places and have numerous cracks in the lenses. "And then there was the cupboard under the stairs."
"What? Did they lock you in there for punishment?" Ginny sounded quite revolted. She was trembling. It was as he feared; he'd never be accepted after his history. No one would want to be around someone like him.
"Yeah, but I sort of lived in there, too."
Ginny got up, casting about for... something. When she gave up looking for whatever it was, she dug her fingers into her palms, screwed her face up and shook. He squeezed his eyes shut as the whole room, maybe the whole castle, quaked violently. It seemed to him that the room was actually tilting, but then normality returned along with absolute silence. The silence lasted barely a moment as yells reverberated through the stone of the walls. To Harry, she suddenly looked quite scary. It was like she was glowing, but the light was beyond his sight. The energy radiating off her was like none he had ever experienced before, and it burned like a blowtorch in his face. He closed his eyes and turned his head, waiting for her to leave. He could already hear the building of the storm that would signal everyone leaving their dorms and charging down the stairs to find the source of the tremors. But he could still feel that same energy, and it was coming nearer. He braced himself for whatever was coming, but just heard Ginny's voice whispering in his ear, slightly erratic in her rage. "Well... you're not with them anymore, but I swear to you Harry, if you don't get there first, I will hunt them down for what they did to you."
He looked up at her in disbelief, then noticed she was a lot closer than he'd been betting on, and flushed crimson. She blinked, then gave him a reassuring sort of smile, at which his stomach did a sort of back flip.
"Oi! What's going on?!" someone cried from the crowd that was squeezing its way out of the two staircases. Ginny turned, backing away from Harry and muttering under her breath.
"Um, not a clue — the whole place just shook for a second," Harry replied quickly. He didn't want Ginny getting in trouble over this.
"What are you two doin'?" Seamus asked.
"Couldn't sleep," he and Ginny said at the same time, and entirely too quickly, though they realised this too late. Seamus started sniggering, Ron frowned a little, and the twins just smirked. There was a bit of a pile-up building at each set of stairs as everyone tried to find the source of the commotion.
"Back to bed, everyone. We'll sort it out," Percy called from somewhere on the stairs, obviously with the other male Gryffindor law keepers.
"Oh, shut it, Perce!" Ginny whispered bashfully.
"Yeah, it's already, what, four thirty? Five?" Fred added with a smirk. Or was it George?
"As good a time as any to be up, eh, Fred?" So the first one was Fred, then.
"Especially if you want to do something discretely," Fred said, nodding, with a wink at Ginny. A collective snigger went up from the crowd. She scowled, but the earthquake must have totally tired her out because she didn't do anything.
"Well, if you really all want to sit around here and watch the fire die, then be my guest," said one of the male prefects, "but I'm off back to bed." Everyone else shuffled off back to bed after that. That is, everyone apart from Harry, Ginny, and Percy.
"So what did happen?" Percy asked suspiciously, but evidently a little miffed that the other Prefects had abandoned him.
"I told you, Percy, I haven't got any idea," Harry replied.
"I'll have to ask Professor McGonagall, but you two are sure you didn't see or hear anything?" Percy continued.
"Yes, Perce, now move along, won't you? I'm sure you'll be quite busy, being a prefect and all..." Ginny remarked caustically.
Harry could tell she'd meant the comment to be biting, but as soon as she mentioned Percy's duties as a prefect, he realised it was a lost cause. Percy puffed out his chest, nodded to them and stalked off. Ginny snorted in disgust, then dropped into the chair next to Harry's. He watched her drift off, and once he was sure she was truly sleeping, whispered, "Thank you."
"So, Gin-gin, a whole year ahead of you..."
"In the place of your dreams..."
"Maybe with a few people from your dreams, too." George or Fred winked at her, and she glared back. They really weren't going to leave her alone. Ignoring them, she sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Harry and began to eat. She could feel them smirking in her direction as they walked off.
She looked around the room. Every single person looked at least fully awake, if not openly excited. Harry's hand brushed hers as he reached for the ketchup and she felt her face light up.
"Hey, look! McGonagall's handing out our timetables," said one of the other boys in Harry's dorm. She sighed. Hogwarts was enormous and wonderful, but a whole year without anything to really do was bound to get boring. Eventually. She still planned to find every single secret passage, talk to all of the ghosts, explore the grounds, fly freely on a broomstick and maybe even play some actual Quidditch...
"Miss Weasley," Professor McGonagall said. She looked up, and gasped. Professor McGonagall was holding out a timetable to her.
"But Professor," Ginny exclaimed, "I thought I wouldn't be able to attend the first-year classes until next year!"
"I, as well as the rest of the faculty, see no reason for you to spend a whole year here twiddling your thumbs," McGonagall said. "It would be pointless to put you in all of the first-year classes, obviously, as you would be forced to stay a year ahead your whole school life. For this year, you will attend slightly less than a week of classes with the current first year, and instead receive an education based around magic itself. Usually, some basic control over magic is taught at home prior to schooling, but it is a difficult thing. You have displayed great potential with your, ahem, unusual arrival on the train, and we, that is to say, myself and Professors Dumbledore and Flitwick, will be helping you to control your talents."
She was speechless. The only way the year could get any more perfect was if... She felt the heat rise in her cheeks again, and glanced quickly at Harry. Thankfully, he didn't notice, for he was laughing about something or other with Ron. "Thank you, Professor!"
McGonagall, as ever, didn't really smile, but nodded curtly and turned to the Irish boy in their year.
"Wow, I can't believe you'll be getting an education like that — you're so lucky!" someone said. Ginny turned towards the voice, finding it to be the girl from the train. "What was Professor McGonagall talking about when she said you had an 'unusual arrival'? Are you too young to be at Hogwarts? How come they allowed you to stay, then? I'm sure it's never been allowed before — something like that certainly hasn't been mentioned in 'Hogwarts, A History'. Apart from children of the Founders, of course." Everything was said so quickly, it left Ginny bewildered, and feeling slightly dizzy as she tried to catch up with everything that had been said. Usually it was her that others had to keep up with. Hermione seemed nice enough, but she thought she would end up getting on better with Fay, who was their dorm's resident Quidditch fan.
"Um..." she said absently, trying to figure out why exactly she was so interested. "I guess I am pretty lucky. I thought I wasn't going to be taking any classes at all until yesterday."
"So you are too young, then," the girl continued "How old are you?"
"Ten. Why are you so curious?" Ginny asked.
The girl blushed. "Sorry, I'm just sort of new to all this — I'm trying to find out as much about magic and everything as I can. Hogwarts is just such an amazing place, and..."
"Oh, right, sorry. You're Muggleborn, then?"
"Yes. I'm Hermione Granger. You're Ginevra Weasley, aren't you?"
Ginny winced. No one but her parents and her Aunt Muriel ever called her Ginevra — her parents rarely, and Aunt Muriel just because she was weird like that. "Please don't call me that," she said. "Ginny's fine."
"Oh, sorry. Um, how come you're here if you aren't eleven yet?"
"Oh, um, I sort of Apparated onto the train by accident," she said, blushing as she remembered why that bit of accidental magic had happened.
"It was pretty amazing," Harry added. Ginny felt her cheeks get hotter still. 'Oh, I'll never be rid of that!'
Hermione's eyes brightened. "Apparated? Is that like teleporting then?"
Ginny glanced back at Harry, who winked. She stuck her tongue out at him before turning back. "Um, a little, I guess."
"What does it feel like? What does it look like? Oh, hang on, you wouldn't really know much about that, would you? Or would you? How long does it take? Was it awfully disconcerting to just appear somewhere else?" Hermione babbled.
"Um... what?" she asked, blinking.
"You know, this isn't really the best place — I've even left my notebook in my trunk," she groaned. "I've gone and done this on the first day, too! I can't believe myself. You'll have to tell me everything this evening though!"
"Err, sure..." she replied dazedly.
"So, we've got Charms first. Is that the same for you, Ginny?" Harry asked, looking as lost as she felt.
"Um, yes," she said, reading her schedule. "I've got Charms, my first magical theory lesson — oh, it's with Dumbledore! — then Herbology, and Transfiguration."
"Hold on a minute, though. You've got nearly as many classes as us!" Ron exclaimed. "I thought you weren't going to have any."
"Oh, honestly," Hermione began, "don't you think that Hogwarts teachers would be good enough at magic to make this thing change when they need it to?" Hermione pointed at the timetable, looking disdainfully at him. His ears turned red.
"Yeah, well, ruddy know-it-all," he mumbled under his breath.
Seeing Hermione begin to flush, Ginny tried to distract them. "Come on or we'll be late for class." She followed Harry out of the Great Hall through the giant double doors.
"Yeah, it's Charms, so that's the second floor, right? Or is it the fourth?" Harry asked, blushing slightly in embarrassment as he walked toward the Grand Staircase.
"Um, I think it's the second," Ginny replied.
"Okay..."
"Oi, you two! Why didn't you wait up?" Ron was jogging up to meet them, with Hermione glaring from behind.
"We thought the two of you were quite busy enough," Ginny snapped back, giving Hermione an apologetic look. She grimaced back.
"Okay... whoa!" Harry cried out as the staircase swung around and into position. They hurried up before it moved again. "Second floor. Big place though. Where are we meant to be?"
"Follow me," Hermione said airily.
"She didn't memorise the layout of the school too, did she?" Ron muttered.
"Well, if she did, you should be grateful, Ron!" Ginny stamped on his toe. "That's for being a git the whole of this morning."
"I'd be a bit more careful, Ron," Harry chuckled. Ron just gave them both death glares, wisely holding his tongue.
"Enter, Miss Weasley."
Ginny drew in a deep breath before opening the door. It was slightly unnerving that he'd known she was there before she'd so much as touched the door. Bill had told her about wards that could identify people from anything, such as blood and magical signature, but nothing without some kind of direct physical or magical contact. But then, Albus Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard in the world, and if anyone could do that...
She'd been nervous since she'd seen on her schedule who she was going to have her first 'theory lesson' with, although it did make sense. She asked Professor Flitwick where the Headmaster's office was, but he pointed out that a map had appeared on the back of her timetable to highlight the location. It appeared that a lot of effort was being made on her behalf. Then, she'd arrived and realised she'd already forgotten the password for the gargoyle who guarded the entrance. This had been provided by her heavily enchanted timetable, too.
And now she was back to the place McGonagall had brought her the day before. The journey took a lot longer, but the castle had lost none of its grandeur, so she didn't really mind all that much. "Good morning, Professor," she said in greeting.
The old man's eyes twinkled. "Ah, it has been far too long since I, myself, have taught a class. It is my fortunate responsibility to introduce you to some of the wonders and mysteries that give you such incredible powers. I wonder, do you understand what causes what we callaccidental magic?"
"Um, I think so, sir. It happens whenever we feel very strong emotions, doesn't it?"
"Yes, yes, that is the simple version. However, your training this year will require that you understand how to reliably manipulate your access to the magical energies of our universe, so that your magic is no longer accidental. You see, we only produce such results as you have seen from yourself when we feel very strong emotions, or rather, most of us do. You seem to either be particularly passionate, or particularly attuned to your abilities. I have encountered perhaps a handful of others in my lifetime who are so attuned. All went on to be brilliant witches, and wizards..." His eyes suddenly became rather distant and sad.
Ginny didn't dare say a word, but she didn't need to, for mere seconds later, Dumbledore broke out of his reverie.
"These kinds of accidental magic are all quite simple, with simple results, such as vanishing a pane of glass, or blasting a mirror," he said. His eyes twinkled merrily again, and Ginny blushed. That was one of the first bits of accidental magic she remembered, when Fred and George had decided to experiment with her hair as she slept, and see her reaction. "In any case, these are all simple because they are driven by emotions alone, and simple ones at that, rather than any real thought. Have you ever wondered about why we need to incant our spells?"
"Well, I don't think you do, sir," Ginny answered. He laughed a little at that.
"Ah, well, most of it is understanding. Most wizards can do it if they really try, if they put in the work, but, alas, most do not see the benefit. We actually teach it in N.E.W.T. level classes. I often wonder if non-verbal casting is the reason for the examination's rather, ahem, peculiar designation."
She smiled. The Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests had been named in a flight of fancy, surely, but nobody had seen fit to change it. "I'm not really sure, sir — I just assumed it was the spells being, I don't know, tied to the words and the wand movements."
"Hmm, it would appear that you make accurate assumptions. There is a complex bond between wand movements and the results of the casting, whereas the theory behind incantations is a little less confusing. There is a whole department at the Ministry dedicated to the practice of spell development, and many others do it in private. Having your own secret spell is a rather attractive prospect to many."
Ginny considered the Bat Bogey Hex. 'Is it a secret spell for me and Bill?' "So, is it like talking to magic, professor?"
"Yes... and no. Those words themselves are not truly aimed at the force of magic. They are aimed at our own minds. Commands issued directly at magic are, by definition, both without wand or word. This usually provides more powerful results, but these are far harder to control. No, we are aiming the words at our own minds, and our own souls. Language also is completely irrelevant, but we British wizards and witches all seem to find the Latin variants rather romantic. Our souls are our main tie to magic — our power sources, if you prefer. It appears that the words do have some effect on this, and the various rhythms and stresses somehow influence our cores. However, the harmonious relationship of mind and soul means that concentrating hard enough on the words and their enunciations is usually enough to produce the same results."
"So we could really say one spell while we're casting another?" Ginny asked, instantly realising the potential this had against her twin brothers.
"Quite. Neither do we truly require wands, but the normal practice of wand-less magic is taxing in the extreme and the results tend to be very difficult to control. A wand helps us to focus the release of magical energy. It is magnified via the magical properties of the wand's core, before being released in a more controlled manner. If we attempt wand-less magic without the correct mindset, there is simply no telling where the spell will come from, where it will go, or how it will be focused. It is possible to accidentally set off a spell from someone else's wand, if you don't concentrate enough, but the complications and possibilities are... Well, let's just say that even I try not to dabble in such matters. This, however, is a field for which you may have a natural affinity."
Ginny sat silently in awe of what she'd been told. It appeared magic was a lot greater than she'd imagined. She wondered why people didn't try to learn about this — it was so wonderful and brilliant, she couldn't imagine.
Dumbledore stood up and walked around behind her. "Please stand, Miss Weasley."
Ginny got up warily. She found that she really liked the headmaster. The problem was that every time she looked into his eyes, she got a powerful urge to run in the opposite direction.
"Come now, my dear girl," he chuckled lightly. "You cannot possibly be in trouble already. Even your twin brothers have not had the chance to... disrupt the proper function and operation of this fine institution."
'Disrupt the...? Is he taking the piss?'
"Miss Weasley, have your parents taught you any stances for spell casting?" he asked.
"Enchantment Basic, Enchantment Stable, Assault Basic and Standing Defense, sir," Ginny reeled off.
If Dumbledore was surprised that she knew combat stances, he didn't show it. Dad had shown her last year after having to fight off and subdue a particularly sadistic muggle baiter at work.
"Assume Enchantment Basic, Miss Weasley," he said.
The stance really was quite basic. You stood straight with feet shoulder width apart, and arms held out horizontally with elbows pointing outwards. She held her imaginary wand loosely in her right hand while her left hand hung open to help channel the energy.
"Good," Dumbledore said. "But pull your wand hand back slightly. You are cupping the tip of the wand here."
"But sir," Ginny complained, "I don't have a wand."
The old professor smiled. "Quite," he amended. "However, you should still move your hand back, only to a lesser degree." After she had done so, he continued. "Miss Weasley, I want you to concentrate very hard on the device before you."
It was an intricate thing of silver, as were most of the instruments that littered the room on delicate little tables. There were a couple of cogs connected by a chain and spinning slowly clockwise then anticlockwise then clockwise again. Through the centre of the chain were a pair of spear-like protrusions, between which the occasional spark flashed a pale blue.
"Now, I want you to grasp upon the first emotion you feel. Draw upon every thought and memory that reinforces it," said Professor Dumbledore.
Ginny seized upon her happiness at being at Hogwarts. The wonder of the huge, ancient castle, the promise of all that she would learn here and all that she would do here. She thought of the people she had met, the stories she'd been told and the sights she had seen.
"Are you ready, Miss Weasley?" Dumbledore asked. Ginny nodded. "Good, now keep those thoughts at the forefront of your mind."
A feeling of euphoria was burgeoning within her. Perhaps it was some sort of cheering charm. In a matter of seconds she felt completely delirious; her whole body was tingling and she thought the room was getting more colourful.
"Focus on the instrument and repeat after me," a voice called to her. 'Sure, why not?' "Nucleum canalare capacitatem navitas praefluunta totalis."
Ginny giggled as the words washed over her. "I'm sorry, sir, can you say that again please? There's so many funny words..."
"Nucleum canalare capacitatem navitas praefluunta totalis." This time the words echoed in her mind, casting their shadow onto her vision. She frowned, but suddenly the words were sparkling and it was all okay.
"Nucleum canalare capacitatem navitas praefluunta totalis," she chanted. Her delirium vanished in less than a heartbeat. At the sudden loss of sensation, she found herself quite light-headed. Ginny fell to her knees only to be caught in mid air. Professor Dumbledore's levitation charm carried her slowly over to her seat and settled her in it. She groaned. "Professor? What just happened?"
"I must apologize for the discomfort, Miss Weasley," Professor Dumbledore said distractedly. "Most witches and wizards aren't affected quite as much as you seem to have been. More to the point, the majority of witches and wizards barely get a response from this instrument. I am inclined to say that this will still be turning over the next time I see you."
Ginny rubbed her eyes and looked over at him. He seemed rather solemn as he observed the instrument. The thing itself seemed fit to burst. The little cogs were spinning so fast they just blurred, and the two prongs were barely visible behind an intense white light.
"Miss Weasley, if you recall the instrument's prior, idle state, that was the background magical energy of the castle exciting it. This, my dear girl, is the power you command." Ginny gasped. "Consider that the castle's background energy comes from some of the most powerful wards known to sorcerers, and you will understand why you will never need a wand."
Ginny stared at her hands. "Lumos," she whispered. Nothing happened. Irritated, she flung out her arms and instantly released a burst of light so bright she cried out. It disappeared as quickly as it had come.
"As you can clearly see, Miss Weasley," Professor Dumbledore continued as though nothing had happened, "your power does not require the amplifying properties of a wand. You need only achieve the correct mindset to focus the energy correctly. Precisely as I suspected."
Ginny glanced up at this, but found nothing beyond a kindly smile. As he returned to his own chair, Ginny looked more closely at the instrument she'd set off. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning shot out from one of the prongs and channeled into a spot in mid-air. There was a sound like a great wind blowing through the room, and the air... opened. It fractured, showing fault lines of white light, and then almost all of the light pulsing through the instrument faded. Just as quickly as it had appeared, the strange crack in the air was gone. With it went much of the power in the instrument, which now sparked with only a ghost of its former energy.
Ginny looked to the headmaster for some sign, but the man remained impassive. "How... peculiar," he murmured finally. After a couple of minutes, he raised his wand and levitated a quill off his desk. "Magic," he said. The quill fell slowly back down to the table. "Gravity."
Ginny frowned. Whatever had just happened with the instrument was significant and in some way important, she just knew it. Even still, she couldn't bring herself to interrupt him and ask about it.
"Essentially, magic is a force just the same way gravity is," Dumbledore continued. "The Department of Mysteries, I'm afraid, is not likely to find the reason we are able to siphon energy from it, and control it, until they look to Muggle sciences and technologies — they are still so short-sighted. But regardless, it is a force far greater than gravity. It is, in fact, something Muggle physicists have been looking for for a great many years, although I doubt they expect to find it in their fairy tales." His eyes twinkled with mirth. "It is the one, unified force — the theory of everything. It is the combination of gravity, electromagnetism, the nuclear forces and one other. That other is, as far as we can guess, a force of life. It is a mystery to wizards and Muggles alike, but it sustains our souls. It is what Dementors," his eyes darkened, "feed from, in some way or another."
Ginny knew she was in some trouble here. She'd never been to Muggle school, and while Luna had, she hadn't really said that much about it since her mother died and she stopped going. She hadn't said much that made any sense since then anyway. 'I'll have to ask her about it in the summer. Or, actually, I could ask Hermione about it today!'
The lesson continued with Dumbledore covering some of the major discoveries in the history of magic. He mentioned that he had learned much of what he knew from Merlin (although he didn't explain how he'd managed that), who had been proficient at channelling 'raw' magic. That was what he called wand-less, word-less magic. He tasked her with practising using it in her free time so that she could develop the skills she needed to control it. She couldn't see that being a problem, considering that she didn't have a wand of her own. But he warned her to only practise in or close to the castle, where the wards would give the best protection in case of an accident.
"So, Ginny, you've kept us waiting far too long — tell us what happened in the lesson!" Hermione exclaimed.
Harry really wished that Hermione would just calm down a bit. Or a lot. She'd managed to keep quiet after Ginny threatened not to tell her anything, but she was visibly distressed as they went to Transfiguration. Her insane dedication to her note taking and attention to the teacher actually slipped. Once. Then, Hermione ground her teeth and turned back to McGonagall.
He listened closely as Ginny went through what must have been literally everything Dumbledore had said. He was sure that it would've only taken about five minutes for Hermione to explain. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to have her own ideas. She went off on her own, trying to explain the formation of the universe to a ten year old witch who didn't really know how electricity worked. Harry was actually interested, but only Ginny seemed capable of keeping up with her. Still, he caught enough to figure out that it wasn't going to make sense to him soon. She went on for so long that Ron was hungry by the end, but on the other hand, Ron ate nearly half as much as Dudley did...
Once Hermione was finished with her explanation, Harry took the opportunity to jump in, asking Ginny if she had practised yet.
She grinned at him. "You would not believe my light spell earlier!"
"Show us then!" Hermione gushed.
"In here," Ginny said. She opened a door at random, which led into an apparently abandoned classroom. Dust lay in a thick layer on the wooden benches, which formed a similar layout to Professor Flitwick's room. There was a central dais, and benches rose to either side so that people at the back could see what was going on.
"A demonstration chamber..." Hermione said. "There's only meant to be one on the ground floor."
"Okay seriously, how the hell would you know that?" Ron challenged.
"Lay off, Ron," Ginny snapped.
"It's in Hogwarts: A History," Hermione explained, keeping her eyes pointedly on Ginny. "The other two were next to each other and turned into a duelling arena."
"You mean like a boxing ring?" Harry asked. Uncle Vernon had been very fond of boxing...
Hermione frowned. "I don't know. There were only vague descriptions of actual duelling, and I've been trying to keep up with my normal studies."
"Trust me, Hermione, you're well ahead there," Harry said, thinking back to the earlier science babble. She only shrugged in reply.
"Well, I know duel arenas are long," Ron said. "They make the duellers walk away from each other for a bit before the fight starts."
"Anyway, we're here for a reason," Harry prompted. "Ginny?"
She climbed atop the dais, and they all took places in the front row to the far side. Like all the rooms in the castle, the demonstration chamber was huge, with a ceiling so high that three Hagrids could stand on top of each other and not touch the ceiling.
"Okay," said Ginny. "Cover your eyes!"
Harry raised both hands to his face. Through his fingers he could see Ginny changing her posture, raising her arms. He fancied there was a glimmer at her right hand. Her face was starting to go red. Feeling an urge to stop her and calm her down, Harry almost removed his hands and got up, but she snarled at thin air and there was a humungous flash. His hands could do nothing to protect him. The flesh glowed pink-red with the intensity of the light. After maybe two seconds, though, the light was gone, leaving a sizable blindspot in his vision. To his right, Ron was groaning, while on his left Hermione was reaching for his hand.
"That was pretty amazing, Ginny," Harry praised.
"Yeah, I've never heard of the lumos spell being so powerful," Hermione added.
"I can't see!" Ron moaned.
"That part does suck," Harry agreed.
Ginny laughed. "I'm sure you'll be fine."
"There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class."
Professor Snape's entrance almost seemed rehearsed; the door slammed with perfect timing to punctuate the end of the sentence. His black robes billowed out behind him and together with his glittering black eyes made him look a lot like an overgrown bat.
"As such, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper on death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." Harry found it almost comical how nobody breathed a word once Professor Snape had started talking – he was like Professor McGonagall in this way if in no other.
Hermione was holding herself perfectly straight, as if she was trying to prove from the start that she was better than the previous 'dunderheads'. Ginny caught Harry's eye then rolled hers, smirking. Professor Snape began to take the register. When he paused at Malfoy to glance up at the slimeball, Harry knew that this guy would be trouble. It wasn't until Snape reached him that things really went south, though.
"Ah, Mr. Potter," he said slowly. "Our new... celebrity."
He continued to take the register. When he was done, he let them sit in silence for a while as his eyes roved over their faces. Snape's eyes were as black as Hagrid's, but held none of the warmth Harry found with the giant man. These eyes, and the faint sneer below them, promised a small accident sometime in the near future. Snape took a deep breath through his hooked nose and continued in the soft voice that nobody dared to breathe over.
"Tell me then Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
"I don't know, sir," Harry said politely. He'd given all his texts a cursory look-through, but those ingredients didn't ring a bell. Hermione had obviously read as much as she'd claimed, though, for her hand was raised. Ginny seemed to know too, and got a strange look from the professor before he returned to staring coldly at Harry. They were the only ones amongst the Gryffindors, so Harry didn't feel too bad. Still, half of Slytherin seemed willing to offer up answers before realising that this was just for Harry.
"Fame clearly isn't everything, is it, Potter?" Snape said slowly. "Where would you look if I asked you to find a bezoar?"
Harry knew this one! He'd mentioned it to Ron on the train, worried about whether one would be needed. "In the stomach of a goat, sir. It protects from most poisons."
"I am gratified," Snape sneered, "that the great Harry Potter has deemed it worth his time to at least open his book before coming to my Potions class."
There were a few sniggers, but it seemed as if a dark cloud had descended upon the dungeon classroom.
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
Hermione seemed to be about to stand, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling.
Harry looked to Ginny for help, but rather than tell him the answer she drew her finger across her throat. Snape didn't want to check the class's knowledge or even his. He would ask progressively harder questions until Harry felt he wasn't good enough.
"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I was really hoping that you would teach me these things, being the teacher." A few people laughed; Harry caught sight of Seamus's eye and Seamus winked.
Snape, however, was not pleased. "Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?" There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor house for your cheek, Potter."
This man was getting on Harry's nerves already. Snape set them all to preparing a potion to cure boils - rememdium furunculus. He put them all in pairs; curiously, when he came upon Harry and Ginny he partnered her with Ron, sending him to work with Parvati on the other side of the room. He supposed he didn't mind too much. Parvati was nice enough, and this class wasn't conducive to conversation.
Snape prowled the classroom, offering everyone varying degrees of harsh criticism except for Malfoy. It didn't look like Harry was going to pass this class on Snape's watch. The professor was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy was stewing his horned slugs when acid green smoke started hissing out of Neville and Seamus's cauldron.
"Take cover!" Ginny cried. Potion sprayed in every direction, showering the immediate area. Unfortunately, Neville was incredibly slow to react and got splashed right in the face. By now, the cauldron was only a twisted blob, and hot potion was spreading across the floor. People jumped onto stools and tables to avoid it, but it was too late for Neville. Angry boils were springing up all over his face and hands, while his robes seemed to be smoking under the dark green, runny liquid that was sliding off them. He was moaning in pain. Harry grimaced as more boils appeared on Neville's forehead.
"Idiot boy!" Snape snarled. He swept his wand across the floor, cleaning away the spilled potion as if it had never been there. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
Neville could only whimper in response.
Hermione gasped and started scribbling something.
"Take him to the hospital wing," Snape told Seamus coldly as the Irish boy appeared from under the desk. Then Snape turned on Harry and Parvati, who had been working at the next table. "You, Potter, why didn't you warn him? Did you think it would make you look good if he ruined his potion? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."
Harry wanted to argue, but he felt Parvati's hand on his. "It's not worth it," she whispered. Harry was still mystified by her touch. Her hand felt soft and warm. There must have been something in his expression, because she gave him a reassuring sort of smile and let go.
Harry stared at his hand, remembering Uncle Vernon crushing it under his shoe a few months ago.
Freak!
'No!'
Harry stared at the professor, who sneered back. This man hated him.
The rest of the lesson was no easier to bear. Seamus came back looking a little bit ill. Apparently the boils hadn't stopped appearing, and if a prefect hadn't helped they might not have gotten to the infirmary, which was on the seventh floor. Harry wondered if that was some sick punishment of Snape's, to leave them there covered in boils until someone chanced upon them. He ground his teeth together in his impotent, indignant rage.
Harry and Parvati's potion turned out alright, in the end. At least, Harry thought it was close enough to the blue colour they were trying to achieve, though it might have been a little too purple. They even had pink smoke coming out of the cauldron, but the look Snape gave it suggested it needed decontamination. As they left the class, Harry felt certain that the toll for his good fortunes would be exacted entirely through that dungeon classroom.
Still, he had gotten his first piece of wizard mail that morning. Hagrid had asked him round for a cup of tea.
"Back, Fang. Back!"
The frantic scrabbling and loud, reverberating barking stopped. The door opened to reveal Hagrid's huge, hairy face.
"Jus' a momen'. Back, Fang!"
He let them all in, struggling to keep hold of the collar of an enormous black boarhound.
There was only one room in Hagrid's hut. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle sat boiling on an open fire and there was a massive bed in the corner with a patchwork quilt over it.
"Make yerselves at 'ome," said Hagrid. The moment he let go of Fang, the dog bounded right at Ron, bowling him over and licking his ears. As with Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.
"Bloody hell!" Ron cried.
"That's Ron," said Harry, struggling not to laugh.
"And you must be Ginny," said Hagrid. He was pouring boiling water into a huge teapot, and putting rock cakes onto a plate. "I don' know if the school can take another two Weasleys. Spent 'alf me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."
Harry took a rock cake eagerly, remembering the chocolate cake Hagrid had baked for his birthday. Unfortunately, that seemed to be a one-off occurrence, for the rock cakes almost broke their teeth when they bit into them. Still, they pretended to enjoy them as they discussed their first week with Hagrid.
"Yer sayin' yeh Apparated onter the train?" Hagrid asked with raised eyebrows.
Ginny blushed brightly. "Yeah," she said.
Hagrid chuckled heartily. "I bet you gave them a right shock. Yer not supposed to be able ter do tha'."
"My magic's going a bit mad lately," Ginny admitted.
"Eh?" said Hagrid. "No, I didn' mean the Apparatin'. That's rare ter be sure, bu' yeh shouldn' be able ter Apparate onter the train anyway."
"Huh?" Ginny exclaimed.
"The wards aren' as strong as on the castle, bu' they put some on the train as well, seein' as how people used ter Apparate their kids on ter try an' trick the school into acceptin' 'em," Hagrid laughed.
Ginny sank backwards into the sofa, blushing down to her neck. "I ... um..."
"Don' be embarrassed, Ginny!" Hagrid boomed, grinning. "That's some migh'y impressive magic, that."
Ginny quickly changed the subject to life in the castle.
They were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch 'that old git'. Argus Filch was the bane of all students at Hogwarts. Thankfully, they'd had precious few run-ins with the cantankerous old caretaker.
"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce 'er to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it."
Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like everyone else, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.
"But he seemed to really hate me."
"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should 'e?"
Yet Harry couldn't help thinking that Hagrid didn't quite meet his eyes when he said that.
"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron and Ginny. "I liked him a lot — great with animals."
Harry wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. While the others told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet:
GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST
Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.
Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.
"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.
Harry remembered Ron telling him on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date. The 31st of July was Harry's birthday. It was also the day Hagrid had taken him to Diagon Alley, the Wizarding high street in London, to get all of his school supplies; the day they had gone to Gringotts, the goblin bank where all of Britain's wizards kept their gold and valuables.
"Hagrid!" said Harry, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"
There was no doubt about it. Hagrid definitely didn't meet Harry's eyes this time. He grunted and offered him another rock cake. Harry read the story again. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying to take out a solitary, grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?
As Harry, Ron and Ginny walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse, Harry thought that none of the lessons he'd had so far had given him as much to think about as tea with Hagrid. Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn't want to tell Harry?
After a week and a half, Ginny hadn't progressed any further with her ability, but she thought she'd learned more in her private lessons with Dumbledore and Flitwick than with Professor McGonagall. Professor Flitwick seemed very good at getting her to do something, but apart from the light spell, she'd had little luck controlling what that something was going to be. Regardless, she didn't have any standard classes at all anymore. She'd only had the first lessons of each of those as a sort of introduction. Although, she could have done without the History of Magic one. Binns had put her in a state of lethargy that she couldn't shake for hours afterwards.
She woke up on a Thursday morning to odd feelings of delight and depression. Shaking her head and attributing it to some dream that she couldn't remember (which would also be odd, since she always remembered her dreams), she got slowly out of bed.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she noticed that everyone was crowded around the notice board. Harry turned to her. "Why didn't you tell us?" he asked.
"What?" Ginny asked, perplexed.
"Your timetable — it updates on its own, right?" Harry pressed. "Why didn't you tell us about the flying lessons?"
"Flying lessons? Hang on."
She pulled it out of the inside pocket of her robes, and lo and behold, there it was.
Thursday
10:50 Private w. Professor Dumbledore
14:05 Flying w. Madam Hooch
15:35 Private w. Professor Flitwick
"I just didn't notice." If she had, she would've been bouncing off the walls.
"Didn't notice?" Harry looked incredulous. "It's flying! How could you possibly miss it? Everyone's been going on about it for days, including you."
"I don't know, Harry! Who do we have it with?"
At once, his face darkened. "The Slytherins."
"Oh, for crying out loud!" she groaned. On the whole, the Slytherins were a challenging group to share a class with. You definitely did not want to do anything embarrassing in front of that lot.
"I know! I've been looking forward to this for weeks, and now I'm just going to go make a fool of myself in front of bloody Malfoy."
"Hey, you don't know you'll make a fool of yourself," Ginny said soothingly, placing her hand on his arm. They both blushed, and the hand was quickly pulled back.
"Um, thanks, Ginny. I think I'll go get some breakfast." He turned and walked hurriedly off.
Behind her, she heard giggles. "What are you two laughing at?" she glared at Lavender and Parvati, who just giggled even more. She growled, and turned to Hermione in a huff. "Insufferable, they are." Hermione was obviously trying to give her a comforting look, but the smirk killed it. "Oh, shove off, all of you."
That day, she managed to get to the Great Hall without anybody's help and without getting lost for the first time. The trick was getting to the Grand Staircase, since from there it was almost obvious which way to go. Gryffindor's Common Room was fairly out of the way, as were all the others apparently, but the flip side of it being hard to find your way to it was that it was hard to find your way away from it.
Her feeling of pride didn't last though. As she made her way along the Gryffindor table, she noticed three figures standing around Neville. It was Malfoy and his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle. Ginny snarled angrily, and pointed her finger at him. "Give that thing back to him, now," She stated, her voice firm.
"Ooh, what are you going to do, Weasley?" Draco sneered. "Stick that finger up my nose?" Crabbe and Goyle, as was their habit, guffawed stupidly behind him.
"You really don't know why I'm still here, do you? I doubt you even know how I got here in the first place. With your oh-so-greatly-esteemed Death Eater father where he is, that really is rather shameful, you know."
Malfoy glowered. "Filthy blood traitor. I expect Dumbledore was doing your family a favour. I expect they'll be able to double the furniture in that shack of yours with the money they'll save, you being here."
"Stupid arrogant arse!" she yelled. Her cheeks reddened as most conversation in their vicinity died.
"Don't worry boys, she'll come up with some killer curses soon," Malfoy drawled.
"She doesn't need to," Fred said darkly.
"Now push off you little prick," George finished.
"How dare you?" Malfoy scowled.
"I was under the impression we had quite the reputation for daring, bro," George grinned.
"True," Fred chuckled, "but there's not much daring in putting down some snotty nosed retard."
Malfoy sneered. "I never thought I'd see the day a Weasley could call someone snotty nosed. Can you even perform a cleaning charm?"
"Thought you'd never ask," George grinned.
"Tergeo," Fred cast surreptitiously, keeping his wand hidden in his robes.
From the way Malfoy reddened, Fred had chosen his target very carefully. There was a chorus of cheers and laughs from those nearby. Malfoy only lingered long enough to mutter a threat to the indifferent twins before hobbling off. Fred immediately began casting spells at random under the table.
"Thanks, guys," Neville smiled, picking up the glass ball that Ginny rolled across the table back to him.
"What was all that about?" Harry asked, vaulting onto the bench next to where Ginny still stood. She took it as her cue to sit down herself.
"Just making our old man proud," George grinned enigmatically.
"Malfoy overstepped," Ginny explained. "Tried to steal Neville's remembrall."
"Well that hasn't gone too well for him," Harry laughed.
"Wingardium Leviosa. Damn right it didn't," Fred said. "If that idiot does anything out of line, let us know."
"Yeah, teachers and prefects can take points..." George started.
"... but we can hit him where it hurts," Fred winked. "Lumos."
"What are you doing?" Harry asked.
"Trade secret," Fred winked.
"We'll let you in on it though," said George.
"Call it a goodwill investment," Fred added.
"He's cleaning his wand," George whispered, leaning in close.
"So if a professor checks it for the last spells I cast ..." said Fred.
"... they won't find what they're looking for," George finished.
"Huh," Ginny murmured. "That's pretty nifty. I thought Priori Incantato could go back for as long as you want, though."
"It's limited by the power and will of the person who casts it, but yes," said Hermione.
"That's the thing, isn't it?" said George.
"How can anyone ever accuse you ..."
"... based on something you might have done ..."
"... years and years ago?" Fred finished.
"See you guys around," George grinned, and they were off.
Ginny turned to start eating. "What is a remembrall, anyway?"
"Do you see all the smoke inside it?" Neville asked. "It turns red if I've forgotten something."
Predictably enough, the swirling smoke reddened to a deep crimson.
"You need to smack the crap out of Malfoy?" Harry said jokingly.
"That too," Ginny agreed. "Wand? Books?"
"I've got my wand," Neville answered. "Which classes do we have again?"
"Defence, Potions, History, Flying," Hermione reeled off as she sat.
"My defence textbook!" Neville exclaimed. The mist went grey, although it still looked ruddy.
"Share mine," Harry offered.
"Cheers, Harry," said Neville.
"You know, Malfoy only picked on you because he thought you wouldn't do anything about it," Ginny told Neville. "Of course we'll stand up for you, but if you don't do something yourself, he's still going to look at you as an easy target."
"I'm sorry, Ginny," Neville said morosely. "I just... He would destroy me! I'm no good with magic."
"Don't be silly," Ginny replied. "If there's one thing I've picked up from Professor Dumbledore, it's that confidence and willpower are everything. Just believe in yourself."
"I'll try," Neville replied.
"UP!" Harry commanded, and to his surprise, the broom seemed quite obedient to his will. It jumped into his outstretched hand the same instant Ginny's did. The brooms soon flopped back down, though, as the two of them were too distracted by the antics of the third in their group, who seemed to have a particularly violent broom assigned to him. Ron was beet red when he'd gotten it under control, hissing reprimands at his best friend and sister, but they were lost to sensibility.
Madam Hooch directed them all in how to handle their brooms, criticising Malfoy extensively on his grip technique, much to the amusement of the Gryffindors he spent his time harassing. Despite her best efforts though, Hermione and Neville still looked at theirs as if the brooms might try to eat them. The brooms themselves were rolling in their hands, jerking around every now and again, seemingly trying to escape.
"You're not gonna fly if you're pissing yourself on the ground, Neville," Seamus said so that Malfoy wouldn't hear.
"I can't do it," Neville groaned.
"Sure you can," said Harry.
"He can't," Ron muttered.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three – two..."
There was a thud and a whoosh on Harry's right. Turning, he saw Neville flying skyward. He'd panicked, and kicked off early.
"Mother of..." Ginny cursed. She was reaching out for the ascending boy with both arms, her hands glowing faintly red with magical energy, but she only slowed him. The broom was going mad, spiralling up backwards, flipping and bucking. Madam Hooch yelled after him, wand out, but to no avail. Poor Neville lasted only ten seconds before falling out of the sky with a sickening crack.
Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his. "Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter. "Come on, boy – it's all right, up you get."
She turned to the rest of the class. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear." Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.
No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"
Most of Slytherin house joined him.
"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry babies, Parvati."
"We're all full of surprises today," Dean mocked.
"Yeah, I heard Malfoy weren't too different this mornin'," Seamus laughed. Malfoy reddened, and battle lines were drawn. Harry noted that while all of Gryffindor had lined up on their end, a few Slytherins chose not to back up Malfoy. The two factions stared each other down for a moment, before Malfoy's face suddenly brightened.
"You know, maybe if the fat lump had given this a squeeze, he'd have remembered to fall on his fat arse!" he sneered, picking up the glittering ball Neville had been sent just that morning, and clearly had escaped his clothing as he fell from his broom.
"Give that here, Malfoy," Harry said quietly.
"Or what? Are you going to get your girlfriend to hex me again?" he asked, lifting off the ground. So he did remember that electrocution hex. Yet he hadn't told any teachers. That or they hadn't believed him. Was it possible that the spell didn't leave any traces?
Harry and Ginny both blushed a little. "No, I'm going to knock you off that broom, and make sure that you stay in the Hospital Wing," Harry replied heatedly.
"He didn't deny it," Carina giggled, nudging Pansy.
"I'd like to see you try, scarhead!" Malfoy called as he flew backwards, beckoning with the remembrall. He hadn't been kidding, he was an old hand at flying.
"So classic," Pansy smirked, "the idiot and the gold digger."
"You bitch!" Ginny cried, raising her broom like a javelin. Instantaneously, it exploded into flames. Pansy and Carina screamed, running behind Millicent Bulstrode, who was desperately trying to get out of the way.
Hermione somehow grabbed a hold of Harry's broom and Ginny's arm. "Don't do this! It's what they want. They're trying to get you into trouble."
"Screw that, you guys," Ron said. "Pulverize them!"
"Harry, you don't even know how to fly! You didn't read any of the books I borrowed..."
"They worked so well for you and Neville after all," Ron replied. "Take him out!"
Harry got on the broom. It felt alive somehow.
SMACK!
He looked to see that Fay and Parvati had gone to exact vengeance on Ginny's behalf.
Grinning, he took up the mantle. At the look in his eyes, Hermione quickly let go of the broom, and he shot out at Malfoy like a bullet. The broom was a part of him. An old, dilapidated part, but it responded to Harry in a way he hadn't expected.
"Want to show everyone what you can do without Crabbe and Goyle around, Malfoy?" Harry said.
"I can do whatever I like. What are you trying to prove, Potter?" he bit back, though his eyes were darting around a little nervously. He evidently hadn't expected Harry to be able to fly. If he was honest about it, neither had Harry.
"Give me the bloody remembrall, Malfoy!" he yelled. He didn't notice the extra spectator the two of them had gained, and such was the drama of the situation, neither did anyone else.
"Oh, I don't think so," he sneered. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for the lump to find it — how about the roof?" He chucked it as hard as he could at the castle. It was not going to make the roof, but Harry doubted it would be much more than glittering fragments if he didn't do something. He went into a violent dive, drawing a collective gasp from the crowd, which was carried away by the wind whistling deafeningly past Harry's ears. Time seemed to slow down as he neared the ground. He stretched out his arm, and instinctively knew where and when to grasp. He pulled up as hard as he could, and his toes skimmed the grass, his fingers clinging tightly to the glass sphere.
"MR. POTTER!" He heard the voice like a grenade through the cheers, and instantly wished he'd just kept going into the ground. It was Professor McGonagall, and her mouth was forming a line thinner than one made by a pencil. "Come with me."
He kept his head down, avoiding Hermione's I-told-you-so look, and the snickering from the Slytherins. He turned his head slightly, met Ginny's eyes for a moment, and his heart sank further. He'd never see them again. He was going to be expelled.
"Seeker?!" Ron exclaimed in a hiss, his voice tinged with awe. "But first years never make the house teams! You must be the youngest seeker in..."
"A century," Harry confirmed. "According to Wood, at least." Oliver Wood was the captain of the House Quidditch team. A heavily built fifth year, he had reacted to McGonagall's proposition of having Harry as seeker the same way a man might react to being given power over time and space. McGonagall had even suggested that a sports broom would be sorted out for him.
"I'm so happy for you, Harry — this is amazing!" Ginny added, grinning. He grinned back, and her cheeks coloured a little.
Ron had, on this occasion, abandoned his usual gluttony to focus on this interesting new development. "You don't reckon they'll let you have your own broom, do you? I mean, first years aren't allowed..."
"Well," Harry said, "she said she was going to ask Dumbledore about bending the rules or something." He was getting a little alarmed by the lack of attention Ron was showing his dinner.
"No way! That's so cool!" Ron replied.
"Careful not to wet yourself, Ron," Ginny smirked. Ron scowled back at her, then glared at Harry, who was sniggering behind his hand. "So, when's your first practice, Harry?"
"A week from now. Um, could you, um, tell me how to play?" he whispered. Ron's mouth dropped open, and Ginny was evidently about to start on an explanation when they were interrupted.
"Do mine ears deceive me?" It was the twins, though they had the decency to keep their voices down.
"And there we were ..." George began.
"... ready to sleep soundly ..." Fred continued.
"... sure that the cup was ours ..." George added, gazing into the distance with a convincing dreamy look in his eyes.
"... and you had to go ..."
"... and say a thing like that." They stood, shaking their heads in disbelief and despair.
"Oh, get lost, you two," Ginny admonished. "Where exactly was he supposed to learn about Quidditch? The Muggle newspapers? Honestly!"
"Now, now, sis, don't get your knickers in a twist!"
"Unless..."
She leapt to her feet. "That's enough!" she yelled, her face very red. The twins left, laughing as she sat down slowly.
"What was that about?" he asked.
"What was what about?" she asked, turning even redder. He dropped the subject, and set about finishing his dinner.
"So, um, Ron, how did they find out? I mean, Wood wanted it to be a secret."
"Oh, they're on the team as well. Beaters. Bloody hell, what does that git want now?"
"Enjoying a last meal, Potter? When are you catching the train back to those Muggles?" Draco asked as he approached.
"When are you going to tell your charming father how you were outdone by someone who'd never even flown before?" Ginny quickly answered. It seemed she had regained her composure.
"Ah, back to relying on your little girlfriend are you, Potter?"
"It's not like you can do anything either way, Malfoy," Harry stated. "And I seem to remember that you were flying too. Don't you think that if I were being expelled, so would you?"
"Oh, don't work his poor brain so hard Harry," Ginny grinned.
"If you don't leave, Malfoy, I'll go and get Professor McGonagall," Hermione declared stiffly.
"Ooooohhhh," Malfoy jeered. "You'll run to the professor will you, you pathetic muggle spawn?" Hermione's eyes went wide, and her jaw dropped in shock.
"Back off, Malfoy, or I'll make the train feel like a warm caress," Ginny snarled.
"You wouldn't dare," Malfoy scoffed. "My father is on the Board of Governors. It's not just you that would be expelled."
"Now who's hiding?" said Harry.
"Well how about a Wizard's duel — settle the whole thing?"
Harry faltered. He didn't know what a wizard's duel was, and while he had an idea, he didn't like it. Lucky for him, Ginny stepped in before anyone noticed. "Sure, I'm his second," she said. "Who's yours?"
Caught momentarily on the wrong foot, Malfoy glanced at her, then looked back at Crabbe and Goyle. "Crabbe."
"Wands only, no contact."
"Tonight in the trophy room."
"Oh, I don't think so," Ginny smirked. "All those trophies would make a lot of noise if they got hit, and there's no telling who might come running if we make a racket. Planning on setting us up, are you, Malfoy?"
He blushed slightly in anger, but to his credit, didn't falter. Much. "N-no, of course not. How about that abandoned classroom by the paved courtyard, where the Gobstones Club plays?"
"Wonderful. Midnight?"
"Of course."
"Done."
He stalked off, Crabbe and Goyle trailing behind. Harry would have asked about Ginny's impossibly quick reactions and the reference to Malfoy's father, but was cut off by Hermione.
"You know, I just can't understand why you would do this to yourself and your house," she fumed. "Think of all the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you get caught!"
"I don't understand how you ate up all the anti-bullying crap they feed you in primary school," Harry fumed right back. "Have you ever even been on the receiving end? Teachers don't care, and when they do, the bullies don't care. You're just giving them ammunition by proving you can't stand up for yourself."
"I have been on the receiving end, thank you very much, and it does work," she protested.
"Oh really?" Harry challenged. Her gaze faltered slightly.
"Yes," she said meekly.
"See?" Harry said.
"Look, no one even asked you," Ron scowled at Hermione. "Just stay out of it."
"Well, as a member of Gryffindor House I felt it was my duty to do all I could to prevent you from..."
"Goodbye," Ron said over her, and walked off, followed by Harry and Ginny, who threw an apologetic glance back in her direction.
"Ron, she was only trying to help her house. Our house, remember?" Ginny called out to him.
Ron stopped at the doors of the Great Hall, the first time he had left before eating his fill. "Well, we're only trying to defend our honour, and the honour of our house. If she wanted to help, she should have volunteered to duel Goyle or something — she probably knows enough spells to have him doing the ballet!"
Ginny sighed. "Ron, you've got to let go of this. Hermione isn't like Fred and George. She takes things seriously, and you're just going to have to get used to it. Exactly what about that makes her a bad person?"
"Doesn't mean I have to like her," he said, walking off towards the common room. Harry and Ginny shrugged at each other, and returned to the Gryffindor Table. They really needed to have a long talk with Hermione.
"I did say he'd set us up!" Ginny whispered as they charged down a secret passage from the courtyard to the seventh floor — or it had been the last time they'd travelled it. It seemed different now.
"Yeah, bloody grass — telling Filch on us!" Ron agreed.
"And I told you not to go!" Hermione whispered back almost hysterically.
"Quit that, will you?" Harry replied. He was already angry enough that she'd followed them out and they'd been stuck with her, but as their ranks swelled with Neville being added to the group, their chances of getting back undetected were becoming slimmer and slimmer. Neville had forgotten the password and been locked out till twenty to midnight, when they turned up. Of course he was glad that Neville was okay, but Hermione was really out to cause trouble.
They soon reached the trapdoor, and pushed out of the pitch black passage and into a torch-lit corridor. A feeling of foreboding settled over them, a nagging sensation that they should get away from this place as fast as they could.
"Does everyone feel that?" Neville said, his voice quivering, and barely loud enough to be heard.
"Yeah, like we should run for it?" Ron muttered.
"But why, though?" Hermione asked.
"Because it's the third floor corridor!" Ginny burst out. "It's forbidden! We must be feeling the wards the Professors would have put on this place!"
"Okay, keep calm, or we'll bring unwanted attention," Harry commanded. "Now let's look for the door that'll get us towards the Grand Staircase. This could take a while." The first two doors led to empty classrooms, but the third, which was at one end of the corridor, was locked. "Right, Ginny, and Neville — you go to the other end of the corridor and check if there's a door there — we'll try and get this one open."
They split up, and when his sister and Neville were gone, Ron started shoving the door as hard as he could.
"Stop it, Ron! You'll get us caught! Move over!" Hermione hissed. When he did, she pointed her wand at the door and incanted, "Alohomora!" The door opened with a click.
Ron shot an astonished, questioning glance at Hermione before turning to Harry, not noticing their horrified expressions. "Right, well, Hermione — you can go get Ginny and Neville, and we'll ... go ... scout..." he trailed off. Behind the door was a huge dog. But that wasn't the end of it. Three huge heads were being raised from the ground, each one snarling and with a murderous look in its eyes.
"Harry? Hermione? Ron? We've found the..." Neville trailed off, paling.
Orange sparks flew from the monster's claws as they were drawn back, each one black as night and long enough to run one of them right through.
"Shut that door!" Ginny shrieked.
The beast lunged forwards so fast they didn't have time to think. Ginny stretched out her arm, and the door slammed shut in its face, swelling to fit tightly to its frame. The door shifted slightly as the hound slammed into it, splinters breaking off and a massive boom reverberating in their ears. Beyond, they could hear the thing snapping and growling at the meal it had just lost. Everyone but Ginny was frozen in place. Harry was first to recover, although his face was still fearful and set in a look of shock.
"Um, thanks, Ginny," he offered quietly.
"No problem," she replied. Her voice was faint and thin. Shaking herself, Ginny looked around at the others. Hermione was sitting with her back to the wall, staring into the distance, muttering something to herself that she couldn't hear. Ron looked rather like he had the day before they'd left for Hogwarts, when he'd woken up to see a spider the size of his hand standing over his privates. Neville was the worst, though. It looked like he'd actually fainted. She walked over, feeling a little light-headed herself, and started trying to revive him.
"Let's get the hell out of here!" Ron said, his voice cracking. Everyone silently agreed. Neville woke with wide eyes, and stared at the door, scrambling away from it as fast as he could. Ginny and Ron dragged him to his feet, and Ron supported him as they crept slowly towards the Grand Staircase.
They were lucky enough to avoid any interceptions by authority, or, gods forbid, poltergeists. And the Fat Lady had returned to her portrait, so they finally found refuge in their common room, no matter how displeased she was.
"What the bloody hell do they think they're doing? Keeping a thing like that in a school!" Ron exclaimed as he stalked through the common room.
"Ron! Language!" Hermione admonished. "And don't you use your eyes? Didn't you see what it was standing on?"
"I was a bit preoccupied with its heads, Hermione. Maybe you didn't notice. There were three!"
"It was standing on a trapdoor, which means it's here to guard something. Now I'm off to bed before any of you get any more ideas to get us killed, or worse, expelled!" She hurried up the girl's staircase.
"She needs to sort out her priorities..." Ron said with exasperation.
"Not really," Neville said quietly. "I don't ever want to see that thing again."
"Are you okay, Neville?" Harry asked.
"Oh, yeah, fine — I'll let you know the next time I want to go cerberus hunting, right? Bring a camera, maybe!"
Harry grimaced. "Fine. Goodnight, Neville."
His face softened a little. "I know it wasn't your fault, Harry, but you should have realised Malfoy wasn't going to turn up."
"He's a stinking coward," Ron growled.
"Yeah," Ginny agreed. "But once I tell Parvati and Lavender, he'll also be a stinking laughing stock."
"Well, that's a nice thought to go to sleep with," Neville smiled. "Goodnight."
"Yeah, night, Neville," Harry called to his retreating back.
"I'm so tired... Coming, Harry?" Ron asked.
"Yeah, in a minute," Harry replied. Ron staggered off after Neville.
Ginny suddenly realised they were completely alone together. She couldn't stop the faint blush, so she gave him a shy smile, which he returned.
"Tired?" she asked quietly.
"Um, no, not really," he stuttered. She frowned slightly. He'd looked whacked on their way back from the third floor. She sat down on the nearest couch to the fire, which appeared to be weakening, and he sat next to her. "You?"
"Yes, but I won't get to sleep till breakfast time."
He grinned. "Well then, what do you think they're keeping in Hogwarts?"
"That needs an enormous three-headed dog to guard it? A weapon? It has to be something dangerous."
"Or really valuable. Hagrid told me that Gringotts was the safest place to keep something apart from Hogwarts, so ... aha!"
"What?" Ginny asked, getting caught up in his excitement.
"That break-in at Gringotts!" Harry said hurriedly. "It happened the day I was there with Hagrid. Well, Hagrid emptied a vault. Vault seven hundred and thirteen. He said it was 'special business for Dumbledore' or something like that."
Ginny stared numbly at him. "But that means that the Dark wizards or whatever are going to attack Hogwarts..."
"But Hogwarts is safer than Gringotts, right?" Harry asked, worried.
"Yeah, well, considering Dumbledore's here," Ginny reasoned. "And then there's the fact that you can't Apparate or Portkey in or out of here."
"What's a Portkey?"
"It's any object that you charm to do that teleport thing you mentioned on the train."
"Wow, you remembered that?"
She blushed brightly. "Um, yeah."
"I guess it's lucky you Apparated when you did."
She turned to him with a slightly bemused smile on her face. He blushed and ducked his head.
"I like hanging out with you, you know? I, um, I like you a lot." She gasped. She couldn't help it. He turned redder, and mumbled something incoherent before heading up the boys' staircase. She was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to even think of stopping him. This certainly had been one hell of a day.