Some... interesting things happen in this chapter. If you find any of them ridiculous or unbelievable, please refer to the comments at the bottom. I know some of these things might need unfogging. Also at the end I address other concerns, like things that have been brought to my attention in reviews and private messages. But the most important stuff at the bottom text is in the first two paragraphs, so do read those.

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE DEFENSE ASSOCIATION

O

"Thank you all for coming to the first meeting of the Defense Association!" said Professor Longbottom, extending his hands out in a friendly welcome. "This is most of the school, isn't it? Good thing we booked the Great Hall to meet up first.

"As you know, today is the last Friday of the month of January. On this Friday, we will be teaching you how to duel! On our next meeting, which will be the last Friday of February, we will host the Dueling Tournament. Our three meetings after that—the last Fridays of March, April, and May, we will be teaching defensive magic beyond what you'd learn in your Defense Against the Dark Arts class. There may be some overlap, and you don't have to attend both, but it's so nice to see you all here! I think this is twice what we had last year—frankly, I'm not really that surprised, given the current state of the world.

"We will be splitting you up by year, of course, into seven groups. The first years' group and the second years' group will be focusing on Disarming and Dissipating and the like. The third and fourth years will also touch on those, but will go into Shield Charms and some handy other defensive charms and spells. Fifth, sixth, and seventh will develop their Stunning, Full Body-Binds, and similar techniques.

"I will take the seventh years," continued Professor Longbottom, and the seventh years in the Hall exchanged happy glances. Professor Longbottom was an excellent duelist, they knew, and had been the only person known to duel Gallen Ingot and live. Not even Adelina Nelson had done that.

"Professor Weasley will take the sixth years. Professor Westerling will take the fifth years. Professor Valon will take the fourth years, Madam Duopold will take the third years, Professor Desulgon will take the second years, and Professor Plinky will take the first years."

The first years looked generally disgruntled about this; they were hoping for someone cool, like Professor Weasley or Professor Desulgon.

"But before you all go," added Professor Longbottom, "I think we ought to have a demonstration. Professors Plinky and Valon have agreed to duel each other for your pleasure, using only verbal spells so that it will be easier to follow. Make some space, please, and enjoy!"

Albus and the other first years were shoved to the back, where they couldn't see anything. Professor Longbottom seemed to notice, and whispered to Professor Desulgon. They Transfigured the House tables quickly into rising stands and had all the students climb onto them.

Albus was still pretty far away, but now he could see as Professors Plinky and Valon bowed to each other—a hilarious sight, given Professor Plinky's height—and then held their wands like swords at the ready.

And then the hall exploded with their shouts of spells.

"EMITUS FRANTUS!"

"PREDELTO!"

"ZENERIA!"

"VOREGUR!"

"CORRIGORO!"

"CASCACENDIA!"

"PARSECTUM!"

"NEBULATA!"

"HOMENUM REVELIO! IMPEDIMENTA! KALAZKOS! SALIMOTOR! INERTUS! DIFFINDO!"

There were intense flashes of light and loud bangs. Plinky shot a bright flashing spell that careened around the room unpredictably; Valon just managed to call a spell to slash it out of the air before it hit him. Plinky then shot a strong ray of energy directly at his foe, whose spell caused his wand to absorb and redirect it; Plinky took the blast, but first uttered some sort of spell that made Valon experience the same impact, and they both tumbled to the floor. Valon got up first and sent a descending column of fire on Plinky, who shouted a spell to part the fire before it struck. Valon got in another spell—this one caused an intense fog to fill the room, and before Plinky got a look at where he was going, the dueling area was clouded over. Now the students were all leaning forward, as if that would help them see through the fog, and then they heard Plinky shout a spell to reveal Valon's presence. Valon's body made a bright red pulse, and Plinky's reactions were apparently quicker, because he then halted Valon in mid-stride with an Impediment Jinx, caused all the water droplets from the cloud to stick to Valon and freeze, encasing his arms in ice, made Valon suddenly jump twenty feet into the air and hang there limply upside-down, his robes hanging over his face, and then Plinky gave a final slash, and Valon's pants were cut off and fluttered to the ground, revealing gray spotted underpants.

The room howled with laughter, and Plinky set Valon down gently, shaking his hand afterwards and returning the Potions Master's pants. The first years were no longer as upset at having Plinky as a dueling instructor—that battle was a spectacle truly worth seeing, even though it only lasted a few seconds. Plinky had just quite literally dueled the pants off of his opponent.

"I guess we know why Valon does Potions," laughed Exo.

Professor Longbottom stepped forward again as Valon struggled back into his pants, red in the face from either being upside down or from embarrassment, or maybe both.

"All right, we'll divide you up into groups based on your year now! After a few pointers, demonstrations, and lessons, we will divide you up again into four groups per year based on your House. Then, each member of their House will duel each other. The individuals with the most wins will be crowned Champion of their House and year. Then, next month, we will have a few more lessons, and then the finals of the Dueling Championships. If you win your year's mini-tournament, you could win points for your House!

"Seventh years may now follow me out of the Hall."

The oldest and tallest of the group left the Great Hall with Professor Longbottom. Charlie called the sixth years, who followed him out and were followed out themselves by Professor Westerling and the fifth years. Then Professor Valon led the fourth years out with a surprising amount of decorum considering what had just happened, and Madam Duopold took the third years away. Then Professors Desulgon and Plinky took the second and first years, and Transfigured the rising stands back into the House tables.

Professor Plinky led them away to a classroom down the hall; they passed the older students, packed tightly into their own classrooms, some already learning techniques, some already practicing dueling. Then the first years' group turned into an empty room, with the desks all stacked in a corner, and they spread out to watch Professor Plinky instruct them in the art of dueling.

"Dueling!" he squeaked, bouncing up on his heels as if his words needed help to get out of his throat. "An ancient art. Although we're well aware that someone attacking a twelve-year-old would likely lack the manners to properly begin a duel, we will teach you the form nonetheless, as we expect all of you to use it today within your House Championships. It will be required next month in the Dueling Tournaments as well.

"You must first bow to your opponent, and then hold your wand in the accepted combat position," he said, holding his like a sword in front of him. "After the bow, and after both opponents have their wands at the ready, either wizard or both may make their first strike.

"Now we will learn Disarming and Dissipating. The Disarming Charm is a handy little tool that does not, by any means, have to be reserved to dueling. If someone stole your quill, you can Disarm them to get it back—the item that the target is holding will be dropped, if the spell is performed successfully; the aforementioned item will be cast into the air within grasping range, if the spell is performed very successfully; the target will be blasted backwards, if the spell is performed extremely successfully."

He went into the details, the mindset and the wandwork required to cast the spell, and then he let them practice. Since the room was so crowded, only a few pairs could work at a time while the rest of the class observed; Holly grasped Albus's arm and paired herself with him before he could raise an objection. She and Albus went in front of the class first, along with the pairs of Rose and Pallie, Archie and Ashton Greengrass, Scorpius and Sebastian Greengrass, Mia Moon and Danielle Cyrosta, Abigail Quinn and Jasmine Zabini of Slytherin, and a couple of wild-eyed Hufflepuff boys. By the time Professor Plinky called for a switch of pairs, the evidence was clear that Albus was already astonishingly good at Disarming. Holly had managed to make Albus's wand twitch, but apparently, Charms was not her strongest subject, and she couldn't master the spell fully. Rose was, as always, already miles ahead of the rest of the class (excepting Albus); Mia Moon was very good; Scorpius was at a higher level than his partner as well.

Albus took a seat on one of the desks in the corner and watched as Alec and Aidan went to the front to practice, along with Eftan and Sylvester, Jonah and Toby, Riley and Scott, and some other Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins that Albus didn't recognize.

Albus watched as Aidan, like Rose, performed the spell almost perfectly on just his second attempt. Then Alec took his second turn.

Aidan's wand wasn't just knocked out of his hand; it flew directly in a path towards Alec and struck him on the shoulder, burning a hole through his robes. Aidan himself was knocked off his feet and did a somersault through the air, landing right on Plinky.

Alec stared at his own wand, then at Aidan's wand on the floor, and got a bit of a manic grin on his face.

"That was phenomenal, who did that?" choked Plinky as Aidan got off of him, apologizing.

Alec raised his hand, looking immensely proud of himself, as a Disarming Charm from Riley Andersen missed its mark and knocked him sideways onto the ground.

"Excellent work, excellent. One more try for each person, and then next pairs, please!"

They finished after only four rotations. The last few pairs to go were Nina Amualda and Maximilian Arkhoth of Slytherin, Sylvia Sandbuck and Lacy Leigh of Ravenclaw, and two other Ravenclaws named Harry Redmane and Ronald Gerriman—Harry and Ron. Albus had to laugh.

"The most common mistake I saw was the wand movement," said Professor Plinky. "I realize that, to a young mind, it must feel like a larger wind-up will result in a more powerful spell, but this is strictly untrue—quite the opposite, really. You must twirl your wand in a closing spiral, but the smaller and tighter the spiral, the faster and more powerful the spell will become. The greatest duelists can master this spell so well that it looks as though their wand is barely moving, and yet their opponent is disarmed and shot backwards as if from a cannon.

"Now we will learn Dissipation. This is a more complicated maneuver, but seeing as how we haven't much useful magic to teach our first years that isn't covered in your classes, we're going to try and see if anyone can master it. Unfortunately, I doubt that anyone will pick this trick up today, but if you practice hard over the next month, you may get it in time for the next meeting.

"Dissipation is one of those charms, like the Disarming Charm, which can take a number of variations based on how well it is cast. It is one of the most common spells used in dueling, and if your opponent is not expecting it, you will gain a strong advantage if you keep pressing on with your attack. When performed accurately, but without enough power, the Dissipating Charm will allow your wand to swipe through the oncoming jet of an opponent's spell and break it up—dissipate it—before the spell makes contact with you. Obviously, this is only useful with spells that manifest in the air between the duelists, such as Stupefy and Expelliarmus… and it won't keep an Unforgiveable Curse from striking you, but I'm not supposed to mention those to you anyway… you get the point. However, with a more competent—rather, a well-practiced—duelist, the Dissipating Charm will produce a crescent-shaped, blade-like ray which will cut through the spell, and if it strikes your opponent's spell at any point, that spell will fail to produce its desired effect. And the most accomplished casters of this spell can perform it without even a moment's hesitation, without even a visible ray to counter. If you are ever faced with someone who can perform the Dissipating Spell like that, you must always be ready to restart your spell from the beginning.

"Are you ready? The incantation for the Dissipating spell is: 'Effracturo!' Again, that is, 'Effracturo!' Say it with me."

"Effracturo," chimed the first years with Plinky.

"Very good, again without wands."

"Effracturo."

"Good. Lots of consonant sounds in there, make sure you don't garble the incantation, because it sounds a little too much like 'Efflicturo,' the spell that gives your opponent a nasty migraine. Also handy, but not what we're aiming for."

Plinky explained the wand movement again, this time a dip down with the wand and then a strong and fast flick upwards. He let them all practice in their pairs again, and assured them that if they couldn't master the spell, it was entirely expected; it took much time and practice to get the motion and the mindset in the proper alignment.

"However, perhaps one or two of you will get to the first level of the spell's power by the time we're done here," he said, and his eyes flickered to Rose, Aidan, and Albus, very briefly.

Albus had never truly struggled with a spell before; this was a new experience. Plinky let them go for longer than with the Disarming Charm, because most people had at least gotten the hang of it a little bit; it was pretty basic. This charm was far more advanced, and no one was getting it right; wands were flying everywhere, because partners were asked to try to Disarm the person who was attempting Dissipation.

Alec and Aidan were in the last group to go, and no one had yet gotten the spell yet. Encouraged by the chance to finally upstage Rose, and accomplish something that she had failed to do, Aidan was giving his magic his all, but still failing. Finally, Professor Plinky told them they could have one more try each, Aidan bellowed, "Effracturo!" and gave a perfect flick like they had seen Professor Plinky perform—but there was no change; still his wand let out a small popping noise, like most of the class, but refused to get the spell correct, and his wand flew over to Alec. Frustrated, he half-heartedly caught his wand when Alec threw it back to him, raised it to face Alec and said, "Expelliarmus."

Alec raised his wand and set himself. "Effracturo!"

The jet broke up when it hit Alec's wand, halting before it struck him.

Every eye in the room was suddenly on him, and Professor Plinky gave a squeak of shock and excitement. "Mr. McKinnon! You've done it! Twenty points to Ravenclaw!"

Alec had never earned any points for Ravenclaw before, and when Professor Plinky awarded him twenty, he looked like to faint as the Ravenclaws cheered and whooped. He looked around, and saw all his friends staring at him with open mouths. He turned slightly red as Professor Plinky approached him.

"McKinnon, on my mark, do it again. I shall attempt to Disarm you, no worries if you cannot repeat the feat—in fact, Dissipation gets harder the more times you successfully perform it, no one quite knows why—but please do your best, I'd like to point out to the rest of the class what it is you are doing right. One, two, three—Expelliarmus!"

"Effracturo!"

Alec's hand made a small movement downward, as if letting the wand fall with gravity, followed by a flick upwards that was entirely controlled by the wrist, with no motion in any other part of his arm. When the spell made contact with the tip of Alec's wand, it shattered and imploded, and Alec was still holding his wand, looking even more astounded with himself than the first time.

"Outstanding! Unbelievable! Inconceivable! You see, everyone, how McKinnon's movement downwards is barely even visible? He lets the tip of his wand droop and then uses his wrist to whip it back up just as the spell is coming in. Perfect work!"

Alec was performing spells with a mastery far beyond his year. Albus was beginning to see the problem: Alec liked performing magic, but he had a strong aversion to learning about it and being tested on it. Considering this fact, Albus thought of a strategy that might just help boost Alec's grades, and he filed it away in his memory to tell Alec later.

"Alec also has a brilliant mastery of the timing involved!" Professor Plinky was still praising Alec. "Often, your wand will understand the implication of the spell, and you needn't wait to finish the incantation before the spell takes effect… But of course, finishing the incantation is crucial, because it will sometimes affect the tail end of the spell, and how cleanly you can move to casting your next spell. Now, everybody, I'd like you to separate yourselves—I'll change the colors of the walls, please move to the corner that has your House color in it."

Professor Plinky cast charms into all four corners of the room. Albus walked over to the wall that he struck second, which turned from beige to red-and-gold striped. Once everyone was separated, Professor Plinky nodded and caught their attention again by jumping ten feet in the air. He escorted Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin to different rooms, but told Gryffindor that they could use this room. He then informed them that he would be wandering around the halls, peeking in the classrooms to make sure everything was going all right, but that they were to start dueling in pairs until every Gryffindor first year had faced every other Gryffindor first year. The other Houses would do the same. The person with the most victories would win, and play in the Dueling Tournament next month against the other House Champions of their year. Professor Plinky would explain how to break a tie if one occurred.

The ensuing matches were short, because most of the first years could only do one thing: Disarm. Some of them had already learned how to cast minor jinxes and hexes, but mostly the matches took exactly as much time as it took someone to pull off a successful Disarming Charm.

Albus had handy victories over everyone except Rose, who beat him narrowly when she ducked under his spell and retaliated with one of her own. It seemed that, like her mother, she was a naturally gifted duelist. Albus suspected that his chances for taking the first years' tournament were now much slimmer—two people would have to beat Rose in order for him to be placed above her.

But Rose went through the class undefeated. When Professor Plinky saw that they had finished, and went to collect the individual scores, he seemed stunned that Rose had managed a perfect run.

"Well—you're the only one to not lose a single match, Miss Weasley!" he said, applauding while his clipboard hovered next to him. "You'll be seeded first in the tournament, so, next month, the first person you will be facing is the Champion with the most losses… Mr. Malfoy, with three!"

Rose got a crafty little grin on her face—Albus recalled her father urging her to beat Scorpius Malfoy at everything.

Well, now was her chance. If Scorpius had lost even one match, he was no match for Rose.

"Who won the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff rounds?" asked Albus, though he thought he knew the answer to the latter.

"Mr. McKinnon took Ravenclaw with but a single loss," said Professor Plinky. "And Mr. Finch-Fletchley is the champion of my old House, also with one loss."

He drew the attention of the class again, this time by sending up sparks.

"Attention, everyone! Just for a little longer—thank you. The Tournament will be held on the evening of the last Friday of February. I hope you will all come to watch, even if you are not involved in the tournament—it will be an enriching experience. I know that there was not much to appreciate in these duels, but I assure you, the seventh years' duels will be as epic as my duel with the Potions master. Away with you, now, it's getting late. We will see you all in classes, and hopefully again in the Great Hall next month!"

Albus filed out of the classroom in front, and caught the eyes of Aidan, Alec, and Eftan as they exited their classrooms. The four friends stood and chatted for a while before heading off to their dormitories.

"That was actually pretty fun," said Eftan. "I had a great time. I almost won my House Championship, even! I just had four losses."

"To who?" asked Alec.

"To whom," corrected Aidan, earning him a scowl.

"Jude Ingram… Abby Quinn… Liz Anitha… and Max Arkhoth," said Eftan. "Lots of dumb errors."

"So you were one of Scorpius's three losses," said Albus. "Who else beat him?"

"Sylvester and Jazz Zabini did. Scorpius actually didn't seem happy to have won, though. I think he doesn't like making a spectacle of himself, getting noticed, you know."

Albus nodded; he did know.

"Who'd you guys lose to?" asked Eftan.

"Just Rose," said Albus. "She went undefeated, I think she's gonna win the tournament—no offense to you guys."

"I look forward to the challenge," said Aidan, grinning.

"Hey!" interjected Alec. "Who said you're even gonna get to face her?"

"I lost to Mia Moon," said Aidan. "She was better than I expected… and prettier." He mumbled the last couple of words and dropped his gaze. "Distracting."

"I lost to Holly Glissendale," grumbled Alec, clearly displeased with that fact; Albus smirked.

"I can't wait for the tournament," said Aidan. "I'm going to get that Dissipation spell down flat for when I finally show Rose who's top dog around here."

"Again, you're forgetting you gotta get by me," said Alec, sticking out his chest. "And I've already got that down. I'm gonna learn as many new spells as possible so I can show you why you shouldn't keep forgetting that I exist!"

The tension in Alec's expression was highly visible.

Eftan distracted him. "We'd better get off to the common rooms, we're supposed to head right back there after the meeting," he said, looking around at the nearly empty hall. "See you guys tomorrow for Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin!"

O

Slytherin's Quidditch victory the next day was far from disputed. The final score was 290 to 40, and now Hufflepuff had to win both its subsequent matches in order to take the Cup. Their next match was against Gryffindor, in mid-February, whose hopes were still untarnished: If they beat Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff beat Slytherin, and Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw by enough, Gryffindor would take the Cup despite the early loss.

Thursday of that week would be the first of February, and so on Wednesday, Albus drafted another letter to Luna Lovegood at the wand shop.

He found it very difficult, though. The first time he had explained the wand's behavior, he had a lot to say; it had let him read a professor's mind for a moment, and he had several month's worth of observations to relay. Now, he had less than a month since the last letter, and there really wasn't anything different. He just decided to let her know that nothing had changed—it was better than not sending her a letter at all.

Dear Luna,

My wand's been behaving very well. I don't think there's much of a change from last time—I've still been doing really well in Transfiguration, and Charms still take me a little more effort to work out than other spells. I haven't read anyone else's mind, and I don't think I can repeat whatever I did there.

Albus then remembered Luna's letter in response to his first wand check-up, which was very humorous—she'd also forgotten that she had asked him to write to her monthly about the wand. At the end of that letter, she'd said that she didn't know what caused his wand to perform Legilimency with so little provocation, and so she'd asked him to, in his next letter, detail the situation fully. He thought back to that day in the classroom.

On the day that I read Professor Desulgon's mind, I was in a group of three: me and my Ravenclaw friends Alec and Holly. We were playing a game where we had to answer a question for three points and, if we got it right, we had the opportunity to shoot a spell at a flying Frisbee and try to turn it into a picture frame for ten points. I raised my hand before a question was finished, and Professor Desulgon called on me but didn't finish the question. I got really embarrassed and then really dizzy, and suddenly I was looking at an open book, and some of the words stood out to me; I read them, and then gave the right answer to the question, even though Professor Desulgon hadn't said anything more than "What."

I'll write you next month and I'll pay close attention to my wand to see if there's anything else interesting about it. Hope that Lorcan and Lysander are doing well!

-Albus

Albus finished dinner early that Wednesday, and then decided to send the owl right then; it might not reach Luna for a day anyway, so it would arrive on the first of the month, like he'd promised her.

He got up from the table and climbed up to the Owlery. But as he reached the seventh floor, after a winding, twisting route up to the Owlery that shouted "this is a first year who still doesn't quite know where he's going," he heard raised voices; both were familiar. Helio and Exo Wilcox having a row.

"I'm not missing any more classes than I have to!" shouted Exo.

Helio made his voice louder. "You don't realize—"

"The world is not as dangerous a place for me as it used to be! I don't know why you insist that we do so much to keep me hidden—"

"Do not interrupt me, Exorian! Listen to me without speaking now. The world is not a dangerous place for you. I readily acknowledge this. But it might be dangerous for you again, very soon. There are horrible rumors… And there are horrible facts. If there is indeed a global revelation like we fear… Do you think that Muggles will take kindly to your condition? No. They will want you quarantined, despite the assurances we will give them. At least at first. When the dust settles, you can let everyone know exactly what your 'affliction' is, but until that time, I fear for your safety. Look at you right now—look at you!"

"I'm not as bad as I look," grumbled Exo.

"Worse, probably. Are you all right—can you walk with me, should I carry you?"

"I'M FINE."

"You've used that lie so many times, you must know it has no meaning to me now. The headaches again, too?"

"Yeah. The headaches again."

"Terrible when it goes right in the middle of the afternoon, isn't it. You shouldn't have gone to your afternoon classes, either."

"I can't miss two full days of classes every month!"

"You can if it's for your health!"

There was a pause, then Helio Wilcox spoke again.

"You can feel it all the way on the other side."

"Of course I can."

Albus strained his ears; everything they were saying was cryptic, and though he knew he was eavesdropping, he couldn't help but pray to hear something that would break the code.

"Well, come back to my office. And don't you dare touch my books again."

Albus felt a surge of guilt. Of course Wilcox would have found out that his son had snooped around the office; he had dozens of spies hung in picture frames all around the walls. How could he not have thought of that?

"Okay."

"We shouldn't have these conversations out in the hall. I keep worrying someone's listening—"

Wilcox's head suddenly turned the corner, and Albus's heart pounded as he flattened himself against the wall next to a suit of armor. He breathed in slowly, trying to calm himself, telling himself that Wilcox was not investigating more than sticking his head around the corner, and he had not seen Albus—

"—but that's just paranoia, I know no one's here, they're all at dinner."

Albus kept himself pressed against the wall. He almost shouted out loud when the suit of armor next to him moved—then he thought with a jolt that it would give him away—

But the suit of armor had no intention of making a scene. It just leaned down and whispered quietly to him, "Nosy little one, aren't you?"

Wilcox continued. "Now, you remember that Zayn and I are going to be out of the school for three days, two weeks from today?"

"What? No…"

"Oh, I never told you this? Yes—Zayn and I are taking a few Ministry officials into the Forbidden Forest… We're on the lookout for more mulunctapoli, making sure there isn't a colony anywhere. It's very unlikely we'll find anything, but we've got to ensure the safety of the school, you know. So Zayn and I are taking in Lynwood Chinch, Obydin Auchland, Alana Falagair, Killian Aubrey, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley. We're going to lead them around our known parts of the forest, and a few remaining unknowns, and see if we can detect any colonies. Valon and I were just in there again recently, and we didn't find anything… The Ministry's got to be involved, though. What I'm getting at is, I won't be here on the fourteenth, fifteenth, or sixteenth…"

"I can live without you for half a week," said Exo coolly.

"Yes, well, just letting you know, I hardly consider it good manners to just suddenly say, 'I'm leaving.' If you need anything, get to Professor Desulgon or Professor Longbottom, all right?"

"I know that."

"Okay. And I know you know that. Let's get you into the office, seriously this time, you look like you're about to collapse."

Albus heard an angry grumble from Exo, footsteps, and then one more word: "Accordions," before he heard something that sounded like the stone gargoyle jumping aside to admit visitors to the headmaster's office, and then one pair of footsteps up the stairs.

But Wilcox didn't follow Exo up into his office. He strode quickly back up the way he'd come, and then suddenly, he started walking swiftly down the hallway where Albus was pressed up against the wall beside the suit of armor, out of sight, but not for long.

Dozens of excuses bounced around his mind, but none of them explained why he was hiding behind the suit of armor. He began to sweat, and held his breath, his last, absurdly pathetic hope being that Wilcox would pass him so quickly that he wouldn't notice a student was there, at least not for a little while, anyway, and then Albus could duck around the other side—

A scream flew halfway out of his throat when suddenly, a flap of fabric appeared out of thin air and lifted itself above the level of his head—and James was standing there, with a devilish smirk, under the Invisibility Cloak. He threw it over Albus and shuffled against the wall as well, and Wilcox passed by them without a second glance.

"Well, well," murmured James from under the Cloak. "I thought I was the only one spying on Wilcox to find out what the heck's going on with his son."

"I wasn't spying," said Albus quietly. "I was sending a letter, and I, er…"

"Happened to accidentally wind up listening behind a suit of armor?" said James. "Come on. You need something better than that. When Wilcox is coming and you're suddenly cornered, you throw your wand across the hall, act innocent, and tell him when he finds you that someone Disarmed you in the hall as a prank and your wand flew up here. You are a tactless sneak, Al, I'm disappointed."

He pulled the Cloak off when he was sure Wilcox was gone, then saluted Albus and trotted off down the hall. "And by the way, the Owlery's this way, it's not behind that suit of armor."

"I know," said Albus, annoyed.

As James cantered off, Albus remembered something he'd said.

"Wait!" he said, and James turned around. "Did you actually find out what's wrong with Exo Wilcox?"

"He's got a worrywart for a dad," said James, "but other than that… I've come to the conclusion that he's a werewolf that doesn't transform on the full moon."

"What?" said Albus, confused.

"He shows all the symptoms," said James. "Fatigue and frailty right before and after the full moon, but I've seen him during the full moon and he looks just fine… often even better than fine. And they never say in their private conversations exactly what this 'affliction' is."

"You've snooped in on their private conversations before?"

"Either he's got some weird condition I've never heard of, or he's just faking it to get out of classes… but he seems to hate missing them," said James. "Either that or he's just really playing it up. If so, I salute him—he's a natural, and a great actor." He saluted Albus and then resumed his retreat to Gryffindor tower. "Cheers, little brother."

"Cheers," mumbled Albus, upset with himself at having pried into Exo's private family matters. Now that he had encountered his brother doing the same thing, he felt even worse—it was bound to be a less-than-noble act.

The suit of armor watched James go, shook its head in disapproval, and resumed keeping its post. Looking closer, Albus saw scars from battle on the suit. He wondered where and when they originated, and why they hadn't been magically restored. Maybe the suit of armor wore its scars proudly as mementos of whatever battle in which they had been gained. Maybe it was even from the Battle of Hogwarts.

He then remembered that he had a letter in his pocket which needed to be sent, and he finished his journey to the Owlery. It took him a while to orient himself, having been thrown off by the near discovery and the sudden appearance of James, but eventually he found the door.

Just as he finished tying his letter to Flibley's leg, and sent him out the window, he heard the door open behind him. He whirled around, expecting Wilcox and a barrage of questions about why he had been eavesdropping, or someone like Harry Lussen, but it was—

"Oh," said Victoire. "Hey, Al. How're you doing?"

"Good," said Albus, relieved that it wasn't Wilcox, or an older Slytherin, or Harry Lussen, who still hadn't let go of a grudge against Albus. "You?"

"Oh, good, just… sending a letter, you know," said Victoire, shrugging and holding up a letter sealed with a ribbon that twisted itself into a heart at the end. Realizing this, she tucked it back out of sight as she walked to her owl. "You know it's Valentine's day coming up, and there's a Hogsmeade trip, and… hoping maybe to meet someone there…" She blushed slightly and took her letter back out as she approached her owl, and Albus was pretty sure that the initials on the front were T. L. He was also pretty sure that he knew the person with those initials to whom Victoire would be writing.

Then Albus's fear was actually confirmed—Harry Lussen burst into the Owlery, along with a couple other seventh year Gryffindors, one geeky-looking, one absurdly muscular. Victoire wheeled around, raising an eyebrow.

"Heard you went off to send a letter," snorted Lussen, glancing at the letter with the heart-shaped ribbon.

"Yes," said Victoire, "to my boyfriend, Harry."

"To your boyfriend Harry?" sniggered Lussen's geeky sidekick.

"Just get out of here, okay?" sighed Victoire. "You're never getting a date with me, and I would rather die than be seen with you on Valentine's Day. Why can't you be satisfied with your swine of a girlfriend?"

Lussen didn't respond, but one of his tiny eyes twitched. He held up his hand, and Albus hadn't noticed that he was holding his wand—he had been hiding it in his sleeve.

With a twitch of his wand, Victoire's letter burst into flames. She yelped and tried to smack it out, then drew her wand but was quickly Disarmed by Lussen's brawny henchman.

Victoire turned to him in fury. "You think doing something like that's going to make me like you?" she screeched, her face turning red, veins bulging, and starting to look almost animalistic. Albus had seen this a few times in his cousins and Aunt Fleur—when they were angry, they seemed to undergo a sort of transformation, and they were no longer beautiful but terrifying. It might have been the dash of Veela heritage he knew them to share.

Lussen, however, was not deterred. He grinned like an idiot, eyes not completely focused, and said, "You'll realize eventually that you can't—" He hiccupped. "That you can't deny your attraction to me forever."

Victoire's jaw had dropped when Lussen hiccupped, and she sputtered through the rest of his speech before retorting. "Are you drunk?" she said, appalled. "Lussen, what the hell were you drinking today?"

"A lot," replied Lussen, and his nerdy friend giggled again. He punched his friend in the arm, and then giggled himself. "Oh, shut up, Coombs," he said through the giggles.

"You shut up," said Coombs, greatly laboring on the "sh" in "shut."

"Come on, pretty girl, give me some Valentine's day love," he cooed, holding out his hands and making a little kissing noise.

"Get the bloody hell away from me, you pervert," said Victoire, edging towards her wand.

"No, no," said Lussen, and he blasted her wand right out an open window. Victoire gasped and ran to the window, staring down the seven stories to her wand as it spun to the ground. "No, no, none o' that." He turned to Albus. "Betterrrrun along. It's past your bedthime, I tink."

And then he rushed at Victoire and tried to press his lips to hers.

Victoire slammed a knee into her attacker's stomach, then whirled around and elbowed him hard in the face, and he went down. Then she found herself at the wrong end of the two wands of Lussen's henchmen as Lussen scrambled to his feet, holding his face.

"She just doesn't realize she wants it," said Lussen. "Stun her, Carlsbad."

Victoire's eyes widened in real fear, and Albus's widened in real anger. He held up his wand, not exactly certain what he was going to do, and growled, "Get away from her."

"Albus, just run and get someone," hissed Victoire.

Lussen tilted his head, and then held up his wand. "Stupefy!" he shouted, before Albus could react.

But his jet missed Albus completely, and sailed across the room to hit a poor owl that was just flying in. Lussen looked at his wand and smacked it against his palm, as if the wand was the reason he failed. He turned to his bulkier henchman, Carlsbad, and said, "You do it."

"Stupefy!" shouted Carlsbad.

"Effracturo!" yelled Albus.

A crescent-shaped blade of energy just like Alec's blasted out of Albus's wand and sliced through the red Stunning jet, and then hit Carlsbad's hand so hard that he dropped his wand and tipped over, losing his balance. Albus turned his wand to Coombs and yelled, "Expelliarmus!" and Disarmed him quickly. Victoire raised an eyebrow, impressed; since she was more skilled, Albus wondered if he should give her his wand.

But that made him imagine Lussen blasting Victoire's wand out the window, and then trying to snog her, and an intense rage filled him, boiling beyond the point of any he'd experienced, and his hand moved to point his wand at Lussen, who was readying his wand again.

The next thing he knew, his mind jumped across the room and filled Lussen's head—that was the best way to explain it, anyway. Lussen suddenly fell to the ground, clutching his head, and he started screaming. Horrible memories were whizzing through Albus's mind like he was going by them on a high-speed train, but they weren't his memories—they were Lussen's. Darkness, pain, fire, and fear were bursting their way into Lussen's mind, and he collapsed on the ground, twitching, moaning, and a wet stain slowly spread across the front of his robes as tears trickled down his face and he sobbed, "Stop… stop… stop…"

Victoire had just been about to reach for Albus's wand, but she had frozen, staring at Lussen. Her gaze shifted over to Albus, and she gave him a look that clearly said, What the hell? Albus would have liked to respond with a look, but he didn't have one that clearly stated the fact that he had no idea what the hell had just happened.

Lussen's henchmen had gathered up their wands and raced out of the room. Albus gave Victoire a look, and then she grabbed his wand and pointed it out the window.

"Accio Wand," she said, and when she had seized her wand as it zoomed up from the ground, she tossed his back and scratched her head. "Er… nice? Can you… teach me that one?"

"I don't know that one, so probably not," said Albus, staring at Lussen, who was still writhing on the ground, weeping.

He thought about the letter that he had just sent to Luna, and wondered if he should send another. No, that could wait until next month. Right now, he couldn't wait to get out of the Owlery.

He turned to Victoire, and she nodded; they sprinted out of the Owlery together. She was still asking him how he had done what he did, but he still didn't know, though he was drawing a conclusion based on his experiences so far in magic.

The first time he had ever performed magic, in that outburst of energy, he was angrier than he'd ever been in his life. When he had read Professor Desulgon's mind, he was very nervous because Holly was hanging out with him, and embarrassed at having made a fool out of himself in front of the whole class by raising his hand before Professor Desulgon had even said the first two words of the question, and then being asked to answer the question. And just now, he had been far more furious than he was at his seventh birthday party when he destroyed the house. Each time, it had been a strong emotional moment, and it had resulted in him performing magic he didn't know he had.

He was thrilled to be able to perform this sort of magic, but at the same time, disappointed at the fact that the most useful part of it all—the ability to control it—was beyond his reach, probably out of his skill level for another five or six years, from the little that he knew of his future curriculum. It was going to be very annoying to proceed with his years under the knowledge that he had this power, but would not be able to master it until he was almost out of school.

And what would happen if he lost his wand? What if it went missing, or was stolen or broken? He felt like the wand was the only reason he was so extraordinary, and if it was gone, he'd lose that advantage. Would he even be as good in his classes if he had someone else's wand? Why was his so strong?

He also wondered why no one else in his year had outbursts of extraordinary magic like this. It seemed to be an incredible event whenever this did occur to him. He gathered, from the reactions of Professor Desulgon, Luna Lovegood, and his parents, that no eleven-year-old had really managed to read minds before. Why, then, could he? And would this event produce a similar response?

Victoire kept a lookout while he climbed into the portrait hole. As he walked to his dormitory, he wondered to himself if this would raise the already sky-high expectations that were set for him. He had just been thinking he could reach them, but now people wouldn't just expect him to be the son of the legendary Harry Potter—he was bound to be considered to be the mind-reading, seventh-year-thrashing son of Harry Potter. And now he'd made several seventh year enemies who had already proven that they had no problems attacking a first year, and who now had an extreme grudge to repay.

Had it been worth it to get Victoire out of a tight spot? Of course. But he couldn't help cringe every time he thought about how much people would grow to expect of him once the story got out.

He walked into the dormitory, and stared.

Exo was sitting on his bed, reading a book next to the soft light of a lantern.

Albus had heard Exo walk into the headmaster's office just minutes ago. He had also heard Wilcox detailing Exo's appearance—mainly, that Exo looked like he was "about to collapse." And here, Exo was looking one hundred percent healthy, even stretching and switching positions as he read. Albus wondered what James would think about this.

He climbed into his bed, putting Exo's curious condition out of his mind yet again. It wasn't his business. He spent an hour tossing in his bed, trying to drift off to sleep, doing his best to not think about the reignited popularity he'd be experiencing at breakfast the next morning.

Ok... Now to address some things in this chapter, just to make sure everyone's following and believing. IF THIS IS TOO LONG FOR YOU, SORRY, I MAY HAVE WRITTEN A LITTLE MORE THAN I HAD ORIGINALLY INTENDED, THE FIRST TWO PARAGRAPHS ARE THE MOST IMPORTANT!

First there were the spells which are supposedly "beyond the level of a first year," which have been seen in more than just this chapter. I'll just make a note here that will carry over to the series as a whole, which will also be noted in an upcoming chapter: These things were beyond the level of a first year when they were created. The theory and the wandmaking have both become much more effective, and this is why students are able to do things that the previous generations could not-I didn't just decide to fulfill my fantasies and put a bunch of child prodigies in Albus's year (though they are intelligent kids).

This also applies to Albus. His wand is experimental, and is very aggressive, as Luna stated. It's good in combat, but right now, since he doesn't know much magic, the wand is almost too much to handle-it's not getting the amount of practice from Albus that it wants, and it's releasing magic as a result. Professor Desulgon will explain most of this in Chapter 14 next week, but I don't want anyone to get lost in this now, so that's why I'm noting it here, too. Also, Harry Lussen's mind was affected by alcohol, so it was easier to penetrate. He wouldn't be able to do that to someone healthy. (Desulgon was very sleepy when Albus read his mind.) So, there's an explanation for a potentially confusing or unbelievable plot point.

Question and answer time! I'll bring up some stuff that people have asked or pointed out in private messages or reviews (both of which I love to see).

Yeah. Albus is kinda perfect. Lol. He's everything Harry would have wanted to be when he was a first year... what every kid probably wanted. He's cute, famous... and everything in magic comes so easily to him! He's the whole package, isn't he?

That's going to make it so much harder for him when things stop coming easily to him, isn't it?

I couldn't have Albus and Harry be the same person, similar as they are. Harry is a very gifted wizard, though of course not the ultimate epitome of talent. But in such a positive environment, Albus is flourishing and doing everything right. By no means, though, is this going to stay that way. He's getting the basic stuff really quickly, but advanced magic (like Legilimency!) is going to frustrate him. Badly. I usually don't like to give away too much, but in reflection, Albus really does seem like such a flawless being that I felt the need to mention this. Then again, a lot of people in Albus's year are doing really well in magic because of the improvements made to wands; it's not as big a deal, relatively, apart from the mind magic part.

Here's an oops: According to one person, J.K. Rowling said in an interview (apparently posted in the Gryffindor common room in Pottermore) that if she'd written the series, Albus would be in Slytherin. (I don't have a Pottermore.) So, oops. We didn't know that when we were planning this, and literally, if I put Albus into Slytherin, the entire sixth and seventh books would fall apart. In addition, I feel that Albus was a character left to the fans to develop, and my Albus is a Gryffindor through and through.

Plot-wise, there's not too much "big stuff" happening at the moment. A lot of it is Quidditch and dueling and stuff. Well, next chapter goes back to the plot; fourteenth chapter is the dueling tournament; last few chapters dive into the plot more. Next book is the shortest, by chapter and most likely by length, and it starts to have some pretty huge stuff happening in it. Third book, there's a lot of big stuff. Then from the fourth book on, there is pretty much nothing but action. That's a ways away, but I am SO looking forward to writing the fourth book that I am really writing faster than I've ever written, just to get faster to the point where I can start working on the next installments. But not that I'm rushing! I promise, I edit and think a lot about everything I write.

Are there too many original characters for your tastes? Blame J.K. Rowling, she introduced the most original characters... I'm pretty sure hers outweigh ours! I know it's a lot for a fanfiction, but this is also pretty long for a fanfiction and I'm going to need a lot of people. You don't have to remember every single name, I'll reintroduce them when they come back in future installments if they're important, I promise!

What happened to Hagrid? He and Maxime are living together with Grawp in the French countryside. He's now the gamekeeper at Beauxbatons; he's even learned some gruff and scratchy French. He'll be back, don't you worry!

Why do I write fanfiction? I do write novels, too. But I'm young. I like fanfiction, I like thinking about future/alternate events in my preferred stories, and I like sharing these ideas. And it's practice. The more I write, the better I'll get.

That's all! (wow I wrote a lot.) See you Friday for one of my favorite chapters!