Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the idea of Harry Potter or any of the money making forms of it.
A/N: This semester is finally over, so I now have time to write ^^ Here is the newest part.
- - - Book 4 — Part 4: Culture Shock
Albus Dumbledore closed his eyes as he leaned back in his office chair, sucking on a lemon drop.
It had been rather quiet of late. Voldemort had once again fallen off the map, as well as his surviving death eaters and other dark allies.
But that was not what had him concerned. It was Harry and his friends.
They were different, particularly Harry, Draco, and Neville. Especially Neville.
After speaking with Augusta, he learned Neville had been able to feel more than what he had previously thought he had. Neville had felt some of what it had been like for Augusta in that place, however brief, and some of what Bellatrix fhad done to her. That, he supposed, explained his recent reclusiveness, that and the fact one of Harry's 'guardians' had fallen while rescuing Augusta and the others.
That would affect anyone with a heart, and Neville had a rather large one.
The only one thing he was relieved about was that his friends, particularly Harry, were right there for him, offering verbal and silent support. Part of him had initially been worried that Harry's calm persona would somehow change and shift into anger because of what had happened (for one can only take so much), but Harry once again proved himself to be more mature than Dumbledore had believed possible.
Dumbledore shook his head.
He had spoken with Sirius not long after the funeral to once again see how the last Marauder was doing. Despite everything, Sirius seemed to be doing rather well, though he could see he had been teetering on the edge of depression for too long of a moment.
His talk with Sirius was what had really concerned him, though, about Harry.
According to Sirius, he hadn't seen Harry grieve, not a single tear. Dumbledore wasn't a judging man, but even he had to admit that was a little odd, though, this was Harry. If his visit to his parents' grave was any indication, Harry was able to take in a great deal, process it quickly and then accept it before rising to whatever was before him — however, this seemed different.
Harry was sensitive, giving and understanding toward others. His treatment of Neville during the past week was proof enough of that. So why did he appear so emotionless? Did he feel nothing for his own loss? Was he hiding it? If he was, it certainly couldn't be healthy, and if he wasn't . . . what could that mean?
It just didn't make sense.
Or did it?
Harry knew, just as well as he did, if not more so, what could happen if he lost control of his emotions. Perhaps Harry was afraid of expressing what he was feeling because of what his magic might do, and how that would in turn affect his heart. But then, maybe he had already grieved in private?
Dumbledore decided to hope that was the case while he decided to continue keeping an eye on him.
But some things were still not adding up, like Harry's reaction to the news.
It was almost as if he had already known. Had been expecting it.
But what could that mean?
Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose, thoughts whirling about.
'But why would they do that?' he asked himself. 'Certainly they would know we were going to tell them as soon as we could? Why had the Custosae told him? Had they told Neville and the others as well? That would explain a great deal of their reactions. Most of them were, overall, a bit off.'
Dumbledore sighed, the lists of students joining them this year from the other schools sprawled across his desk.
Dumbledore had spoken briefly with Mage not long after the attack. He had seemed solemn and resigned, but determined and strong. As if he had accepted something important and had set himself to a task he would not allow himself to fail in.
It was encouraging as well as frightening.
Mage had vaguely told him what he had done to the wards of Madame Bones' house, though Dumbledore had already gathered what had occurred through Bones' description and the evidence all over the grounds.
What Dumbledore could surmise was that Mage had somehow modified a powerful type of ward, much like the one Harry had cast during the attack at the Dursleys, but it had been laced with a kind of magic he had never seen before. It was foreign and almost . . . dark, and yet it was so pure any negative intention near it would feel its aggression.
Had Mage met the woman Harry had described from the memory concerning the Golden Ward? It was certainly possible. Perhaps she had, before Voldemort had killed her, taught Mage the basic spell, allowing him to adjust and change it?
Dumbledore opened his eyes and grabbed another lemon drop.
Bones had said Mage had cut himself, and that the cut had bled a surprising amount. So that meant it was Blood Magic — Sacrificial Magic. Did Mage understand the repercussions of such magic?
Dumbledore almost laughed at himself. Of course he must. He's Mage.
He would know Blood Magic was a binding contract with any family he willingly 'bled' for. Meaning any family he cast this for to purposely defend was now under his protection and they had a blood pact with him. A kind of family debt they owed to him, only it wasn't exactly a debt, but an understanding. An Alliance.
It was an old kind of magic, one long forgotten to society, buried in the laws and oaths of the ancient bloodlines. The only reason he knew of it was because he had come from an old family and his father had been a stickler for such things.
So now the Bones family was allied to whoever Mage's family was. Magic would weave itself in such a way around situations to prevent ill intentions from being carried out between them and would entice both sides to assist the other. Call it subconscious suggestion and cooperation.
He wondered if Bones knew.
The Dumbledores had once been allied with the Prewitts, and technically still were, though, through Molly, the blood pact would only last for one more generation — with the Weasleys.
"Bee in your bonnet, Albus?" the sorting hat asked.
"Not exactly," Dumbledore whispered. "Just thinking."
"As you often are," the hat said before giving Dumbledore an assessing look. "You are thinking about Potter and Mage, are you not?"
"Guilty."
"Do you not have faith in them?" he asked.
"It's not about faith."
"Then what is it about?" the hat asked, though he didn't give Dumbledore a chance to answer before he continued. "These are not mysteries you should try to solve at this moment, Albus. To do so would be very detrimental to everything you are fighting for. For now, let these mysteries be."
Dumbledore's brow wrinkled in deep thought, before he eased back in his chair once again.
"Very well," he said, his voice quiet. "Very well."
O o O o O
Summer ended with a bitter-sweet feeling. On the one hand, school was starting; on the other, the summer was finally over. And like most summers Harry had had, he was glad the end had arrived, this one more so for obvious reasons.
Sirius was different, and, Harry quickly noticed, very protective of him now — even more so than before. If Harry showed any indication of feeling uncomfortable or anything, whether or not it was really anything to be concerned about, Sirius was quick to go to him and ask if he should go see Madam Pomfrey.
Harry understood, but it was still a bit overbearing.
Neville had returned, for the most part, to his normal self, though it was Augusta Harry and the others were more concerned about. She was seriously withdrawn and her formerly hard and coldish exterior had cracked.
She only spoke to Moody and Dumbledore about what had happened at the Riddle House, and it was clear she didn't want anyone else knowing what had happened to her there. When she had learned it was because of Neville that the rescue had been possible and carried out, she nearly had a meltdown, particularly when Dumbledore told her how Neville had done it. For a moment, Dumbledore wasn't sure if he was going to need to defend himself, but then she just crumpled and succumbed to what Dumbledore could only define as muffled apologies.
To say the least, Dumbledore was stunned, and was barely able to fall back to his ability to handle unforeseen situations. As it stood now, Augusta had not said more than a dozen words to him since then. Dumbledore believed she felt embarrassed and ashamed for her lapse of having no self control, despite his attempts to assure her he understood and that it was alright. As for how she was with Neville . . . that was a different story.
She didn't show much of any hint that she had been told what he had done, save for how she looked at him. Her barely hidden sighs and glances of disappoint, as well as downgrading comments, had been gone for a long while, but now there was, for the first time Neville could ever remember seeing from her, a glint of deep pride. For him.
After everything that had happened, it was a small bit of solace to him.
No longer looking out the window, Harry eased back in his seat, wondering what the new term may or may not bring as they finally came into view of Hogsmeade.
O o O o O
Classes started as they always did, though Dumbledore welcomed them to the new term with the announcement of the Immersion and Development Program, or IDP, and a list of all of the participating schools.
Most everyone already knew of the IDP, since it had been announced in the Daily Prophet weeks prior, but everyone was still excited. It was a nice change from the gloomy atmosphere the current war created.
The first three schools participating would be Beauxbatons Academy of Magic (France), Salem Witches' Institute (Massachusetts, USA), and Nara, School of Sagacity (Japan). They would be bringing a total of 27 students and would arrive at the start of the third week of term.
The other things of note involved new professors. Defense Against the Dark Arts was now taught by Severus Snape, assisted by Alastor Moody (despite the missing limbs) and Stephanie Somac. Horace Slughorn had become the Potions Professor, though Snape remained the Head of Slytherin House. Aberforth Dumbledore became the Astronomy professor and a goblin was now teaching Arithmancy.
But not everything was as cheerful or well, for the effects of the war were evident.
A plaque honoring those who had fallen at the battle at Hogwarts had been placed beside the entrance to the Great Hall by Albus Dumbledore himself. Professors Septima Vector and Aurora Sinistra were of the honored.
Around a dozen students had not returned to Hogwarts, being part of families who had opted to leave the country, at least for the time being. Of the students who had returned, most had already endured the loss of at least one loved one, friend or relative. For those who hadn't, they were afraid, wondering when they would be told someone they knew had become a casualty.
The events surrounding the rescue/assault at the Riddle Mansion were also still fresh in most everyone's minds, and the fact that Augusta Longbottom was one of those rescued made Neville a frequently noticed and stared at individual. Of course, that thankfully wore off after a few days, but as always, people were people, finding rumors and the like delectable.
Talk of what people were doing for the war effort was running rampant, most of it being focused around one individual — Mage. Harry tried not to listen on people's theories of what Mage may or may not be doing, but it didn't work very well. What made it worse was when a non-Custosae/Amici professor would add their own thoughts on the matter, such as Slughorn.
It was almost laughable, or it would be if their theories were not actually about him.
"Maybe he's in the mountains, talking with the giants!" a Hufflepuff suggested.
"No, he's got to be spying on You-Know-Who. No one else could. I mean, really."
"You're both wrong. He's here in the castle, just in case there's a second attack."
"Pfft, what are you on? Some bizarre fantasy potion? As if a great wizard like Mage would stay here when there are many other more likely places he could be in case of an attack."
"Dumbledore's a good wizard and he's here."
"That's because he's the Headmaster, moron."
"Yeah, but Mage is his best friend. It might make sense if he's staying here when there's nothing he needs to do."
"You are both pathetic, arguing over this."
"Now, now, students, what is this about?" Slughorn asked, coming up from behind them. "Not fighting, I hope?"
"Oh, of course not, professor," they chirped.
"This doesn't have anything to do with a certain renowned wizard, would it?" he asked.
Harry wondered if anyone else could be so chipper.
"If I am correct in that you were talking about Albus' mysterious dear friend, Mage, need I remind you what Mage is capable of? He could practically be anywhere. He can apparate anywhere. No ward or series of wards can keep him in or out of any place, including Hogwarts, and I doubt there's much of a distance issue. The only problem I see is that he is just one man."
"Ah, but, professor, there's also his followers, the Custosae and Amici," a bold student added.
"True. Which makes you wonder where they are. . . ."
He shrugged and walked away, leaving the students to chatter and discuss even more about Mage and his allies.
Harry held back a groan. Hearing people talk about him, even though they didn't know it was actually him, was getting a bit old. And he knew it would only get worse when the students from the other schools arrived.
He was right.
O o O o O
The third week of September finally arrived, and the students of Hogwarts were eagerly awaiting the arrival of twenty-seven students.
Standing at the entrance of Hogwarts, they waited. Dumbledore was before them all, phoenix cane in hand, in front of a recently drawn rune network.
The network was made up of three intricate circles, bordered by etched diamonds and triangles. They were over twenty feet in diameter each and had a faint shine to them.
No one knew what to make of them.
Suddenly, three portals materialized up out of the rune network, and a moment later, people come forth as if stepping through veils. Twenty seven students and three adults.
There were amazed gasps all around as Dumbledore calmly stood, McGonagall and the other professors behind him.
The three groups remained clustered together as they took in their surroundings. Evidently that mode of transportation was a little disorienting.
Harry immediately identified one group as being from Beauxbatons, Academy of Magic. They were all girls in blue and dressed to impress. Some boys were already drooling. The adult with them was a short, stern, looking woman who made McGonagall look like a pushover despite her stature.
The group to the far left was quite frankly a melting pot. Honestly, Harry had never seen that small of a group containing such a variety of people while appearing completely at ease with the fact. With them was a tall, thin man with a short goatee.
The group in the middle was from Nara, School of Sagacity, with only seven students. The four boys were in blue silk robes while the three girls were in pink silk ones. The adult with them was a very old looking man who was clearly a monk, though his robes seemed to be a bit more casual than most other monks. Well, that was putting it lightly. If Dumbledore had been born in a monastery, this is what he probably would have chosen to wear.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," Dumbledore greeted them all. "Please, professors, introduce yourselves to my students."
The old monk took the initiative, smiling as he took a step forward and gave Dumbledore a respectful bow.
"I am Mako Shin, professor of Chakra Control at Nara, School of Sagacity," he stated simply. "I trust my students with me will have time to formally introduce themselves to their peers at a later time?"
It was barely a question.
"Of course. They will be joining the Hufflepuffs initially," Dumbledore answered, motioning just to his left where a number of Hufflepuffs had congregated.
Dumbledore then looked to the largest group.
"Beauxbatons, Academy of Magic," the very proper looking woman said. "I am Juliana Facet. I teach Divination."
"Your students will be joining the House of Ravenclaw for this week, Professor Facet," Dumbledore said, pronouncing her name smoothly and correctly before giving his attention to the last professor.
"Robert Nelson, Head of Security at Salem Witches' Institute, professor of Magical Protection," the simple looking man said.
"Your students will be with Slytherin House, Mr. Nelson," Dumbledore said, before beckoning them all forward.
"Now, I have instructed the prefects to give your students a tour of Hogwarts. Afterward, we will all assemble in the Great Hall for dinner," Dumbledore said, removing all pretenses most would have thought would have been given here. He then turned his attention to his own students. "I am sure many of you cannot wait to properly welcome our guests, but let me remind you to not crowd them. As you know, they will be here for the next several weeks, which is plenty of time for you all to get to know them. Alright, any questions?"
Receiving silence, Dumbledore went on. "Splendid! Professors, if you would, follow me. I believe you all would like to have an outline of the coming weeks here? Very good."
The visiting professors gave a nod and motioned for their students to move to the seven students with obvious prefect badges on their robes before they joined Dumbledore, going into the castle, leaving the rest of the students to either join the tour group or return to their studies until dinner.
O o O o O
The slightly abrupt arrival of the foreign students went as smoothly as anyone could have expected, and after receiving the grand tour, the visiting students were as eager as the rest of the student body to eat dinner and go to their respective common rooms.
Harry and the others had yet to formally introduce themselves to any of them, mostly due to the fact none of them would be staying in their dorms yet. They would play host to Nara the following week, then Beauxbatons, and, lastly, Salem. For the final weeks of the first round of the IDP, the students of the guest schools would have their pick of which House to stay at.
The Professors of the guest schools would also have the option of giving a lecture a week to any and all students wishing to broaden their knowledge of magic. There were already signup sheets in the common rooms. Hermione had already signed her name on all of them. Harry and the others did so as well, though not as enthusiastically.
Finally, dinner arrived, and so, the Great Hall, at first, was slightly more crowded than usual. Not that that was a problem, for Dumbledore had asked Hogwarts to enlarge the room, which she happily did, allowing everyone to sit down.
After saying very few words, as he often did, Dumbledore clapped once, causing the food the house elves had fixed to appear on the table, impressing a few people who had never seen that done before.
"Such a marvelous place, Headmaster," Mako said, giving a slight head bow toward Dumbledore.
"Yes, it is. I have heard many things about Hogwarts, but hearsay does not give her justice," Facet said, lifting a glass beside McGonagall in a brief 'cheers'-like fashion.
"Since I was a boy, I have always been curious about a few things, Headmaster," Nelson began, leaning forward and looking around Snape so he could see down the table at the rest of them.
"Oh? What about?" Dumbledore asked, the students below them immersed in their own conversations.
"Well, you, actually," he said honestly. "It is said you enjoy candy, a lot. I was wondering if what I've heard is true or not, and, if it is, which candy is your favorite."
Dumbledore's eyes sparkled.
"Well, I must admit I enjoy a lemon drop every once in a while," Dumbledore said.
McGonagall and the other professors were unable to hide their coughs.
"Albus, you have one at practically every opportunity," Slughorn blurted. "I daresay your teeth would have fallen out if not for your magic."
"Perhaps, perhaps not. Lemon drop?" he asked, one seemingly appearing in his hand.
McGonagall focused her attention to Nelson. "To answer your question, Professor Nelson, yes, he is obsessed with sweets."
"'Obsessed' is such a strong, Minerva," Dumbledore protested feebly, to the amazement of everyone there, before he continued. "Enthusiastic would fit more. I enjoy sugar, and sugar compacted in a little yellow sphere is all the more enjoyable, like eating a tiny cooled off sun."
"Whatever you say, Albus," McGonagall said as she dished out some more potatoes for herself.
O o O o O
McGonagall prided herself on being patient and clear headed, but there was something nagging her about the schedule and arrangement of the guest schools.
For every single round of visits from the foreign schools, Gryffindor's first week had no one in their dorms.
The other schools didn't know of this arrangement, frankly because they only cared about their slot and time at Hogwarts, but she was certain her students would notice. Perhaps Dumbledore had just overlooked that detail, randomly drawing the order from a hat? But no . . . she knew he always had a reason for everything he did; granted, not always a good one, but a reason.
So, finally, she decided to just go ask him about it.
Going up to his office, the gargoyle let her pass with the words, 'lemon tarts.'
"Come in," he said, just as she was about to knock.
Not bothering to even wonder how he did it, she entered.
"Ah, Minerva, how are you?" he asked, looking up from his desk.
"Fine, Albus," she said. "I was just a little curious about something. Well, a little concerned more like."
"Oh?"
That obviously got his attention. Whatever concerned Minerva was always a concern of his.
"The schools' scheduling, Albus. Don't think you got everyone to overlook it. Why are you having Gryffindor wait until after the first week to host any of the schools in their dorms? You did this for every single section."
Dumbledore was kind enough to give a slight sigh and look a little guilty.
"I have my reasons," he said gently.
"Albus, I know you do, which is why I'm asking what they are."
"Well, after the past few years, I've grown a little more cautious than I already was when it comes to one of our students. Experience has shown me I can never be too careful, and that giving him the opportunity to perhaps prepare for what may or may not be a danger is very wise."
"Albus, what and who are you talking about?" she asked, though she had a feeling she already knew the answer to her question.
"We are in a war, Minerva, and anyone could be an enemy. This sadly can include students. I feel it best for us to get a feel for them all before we place any of them in your House's dorms. I understand your frustration, and I don't believe every student is out to get us, but one of them could be."
"You're afraid of an attack on Potter," she stated quietly, getting right to the point.
"The IDP is a perfect opportunity. Granted, a lot of work would have needed to be done to make it this far, but I don't believe it beyond the capabilities of Voldemort."
"Do you really feel he would pursue Harry this way?"
"The direct approach hasn't been working out too well for him. If I was Voldemort, I would do it this way," Dumbledore said.
"What shall I tell the students if they ask me why Gryffindor is never part of the first group of houses hosting?"
"Blame it on me. You may even hint I wanted to save the best House till later for those visiting," he answered.
"Very well."
O o O o O
The coming weeks passed surprisingly fast, though not everything had been smooth sailing. The students, and even the professors, had to overcome a few initial shocks.
The differences in traditions, beliefs, and ideas, compounded into one atmosphere, were quite something to behold, and it took a few people a bit more to get over the culture shock. This did not only include Hogwarts students, but those visiting, for many had never even been in a castle before, let alone room with people with totally different backgrounds than themselves.
At first, some people were shy and hesitant, not wanting to make a bad impression, while others were hyper and loud, wanting to impress. The visiting students were all pretty friendly though, despite being a bit stiff, not knowing how to act in the school that had recently been in the spotlight (being the location of a terrible battle with the Dark Lord, and the spot where the leader of the Custosae had finally revealed himself).
Harry and the others took it in stride, though Ron was fascinated by some of the accents spoken by the new students. The only problem any of them really experienced were some of the students' curiosity in Harry. A few were interested in Draco and Neville, of course, but many more were amazed with what they had heard about Harry, particularly about the end of the previous term. What he had done in Hogsmeade.
But everything calmed after the first week. Sharing meals and classes certainly helped.
The lectures provided by the foreign professors were compelling and well worth the time, particularly Chakra Control.
Professor Mako was a no-nonsense sort of person, but very down to earth. He was straightforward without being painfully blunt, and had a gentleness about him that was unparalleled.
Their first class with him had been different than most classes they had had before.
"Chakra," Mako began, "can be defined as a kind of magic, however, witches and wizards are not the only ones who have access to it. Muggles or non-magics are able to harness it as well. It is a living energy, a life force that is accessible to anyone with enough patience and will. It can be used to improve motor function, hand-to-eye coordination, awareness, and many other skills, including healing.
"In Japanf, we encourage everyone to begin at an early age, for the sooner the better. Chakra Control is a difficult art, but those who master it are unquestionably better for it.
"Now, let me give you a demonstration to show you how to begin," he said, walking from the front of the room and toward the closest student, who just happened to be Draco. "Stand up," he said, after giving him a once over. "Close your eyes and relax. Even your breathing and try not to think."
He slowly and silently walked around him, slowly lifting his hand and making a fist.
"I know you know I am behind you, but where is my right hand?" he asked.
It was by Draco's left shoulder, roughly three inches away.
"Um," Draco said, thinking.
"No. Stop right there. No thinking. Where is my right hand? Center yourself and sense."
"To my left," Draco said after a moment.
"Good," Mako said, moving his hand a little to get beside Draco's head. "And now."
"You moved it. It's by my head."
Mako smiled, lowering his hand. "You may open your eyes now."
Soon after, they were divided up into pairs and took turns practicing. Mako said they would not advance to the next step until he was confident they had this one. He wandered the room, giving assistance where needed. He paused slightly when walking near Harry and Draco, but then continued on to Neville and Vince.
"Mr. Malfoy, stay after class, would you?" Mako asked near the end of the lesson.
"Yes sir," he said.
Harry and the rest of the class exited the room, assuming Mako simply wanted to talk to Draco about the demonstration or something for a future lecture.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" Draco asked.
Mako had taken a seat at one of the student tables.
"Yes," he said, motioning Draco to sit down. "I will be straight to the point, Mr. Malfoy. It is rare for me to find one such as yourself, which is most of the reason why I have deemed it necessary to talk with you. I am offering you a unique opportunity. Would you care for extra lessons? For me to pass up teaching one such as yourself would be a failure on my part."
"Extra lessons? What do you mean?"
"You have a, what do you call it? Ah, a knack for Chakra Control. I can feel it ebbing off of you, though I feel you used something else to aid you today. However, I am certain your abilities in the art alone have great potential."
"I used Occlumency to center myself," Draco stated, deciding honesty here wouldn't hurt, and it wasn't illegal or totally unheard of, especially being a pureblood.
"Ah, a fine art all its own, but its uses only go so far in Chakra Control. No, Chakra Control goes much deeper than Occlumency, for it does not focus on the mind, but the heart and soul of one's being."
"And you think I could become good at it?"
"Yes, very good at it. All I need is your permission. I have already talked to your Headmaster about personally instructing any promising students."
"I think it would be pretty nice learning another sort of technique. When will my lessons be with you?"
Mako smiled. "Every Tuesday and Thursday, after dinner."
Draco nodded, agreeing. "Was there anything else, sir? You said this was most of what you wanted to talk to me about."
Mako paused for a moment. "It is probably none of my concern, and I am uncertain if I should so quickly bring this sort of thing up."
"Sir, if it concerns me, or even one of my friends, I feel I have a right to know."
"Which is the only reason why I am having this conversation. Mr. Malfoy, I couldn't help but notice the connection between you and Mr. Potter. Would you mind explaining that? It might help me in teaching you, as well as Mr. Potter."
Draco blinked. He hadn't ever really thought about anyone discovering the bond on their own like Professor Mako apparently had. What should he do from here?
"Do not be alarmed. I am not going to be sharing this with anyone else, and I assume your Headmaster knows?"
Draco nodded.
"How old is this bond? It doesn't feel new."
"It happened in the summer, just after our first year."
Draco was tempted to twiddle this thumbs as it seemed Mako thought for a moment.
"So, uh. You can feel our magic?" Draco asked, desperate to break the silence.
"Yes, though probably not in the way you are thinking," he said. "Chakra can be tightly enclosed by magic, just as magic can be tightly encased by chakra. In your and Mr. Potter's case, chakra and magic are interwoven and layered several times. They are coiled around one another. An interesting phenomenon I am looking forward to understanding."
"I see. Well, um, shouldn't you teach Harry with me if this is the case?"
Mako's eyes took on an emotion Draco couldn't quite place. It wasn't pity exactly, concern maybe?
"That's another thing I wanted to talk to you about. He very well could become good at chakra control, and his control right now isn't bad. It's quite good actually, it is just that for him to attempt serious control . . . it would not be safe for him."
"Why?"
"His magic is too tight around him. For him to grasp his chakra and try to do any serious manipulation with it would risk tearing his magic."
"Is his chakra in danger if he uses too much magic or something?" Draco asked, concern bleeding into his voice.
"No. Thankfully chakra is a bit more giving than magic."
"Is there a way for Harry to fix his problem?"
"Not at this time, I don't think, but I would have to learn more to be certain."
"Like what?"
"I'd have to see his medical records, ask him a few questions, and get a closer look at his magic and chakra."
"I'm sure he'd be happy to receive any help you could offer."
"If he would be willing to join you in our first lesson, I will see what we can do," Mako said.
"Thank you, professor," Draco said.
Draco left soon after and immediately went to Harry. They had a lot to discuss.
O o O o O
A/N: Just so you all know, I'm not going to go into great detail concerning this year's lectures, but focus more on what will ultimately impact the plot. I don't see the point in writing a huge amount on things that will ultimately lead to nothing and only postpone the real action. With that said, I'm also not going to go deeply into the visiting schools and their students, save where it's important for character developement/storyline. I have enough characters to keep in line already :P. Hope that relieves any worries and is understandable.
Also, before anyone asks, yes, I chose the name Mako for a reason. It is in honor of Mako Iwamatsu. If you don't know who that is, look him up. One of his last acting roles was being the voice of Iroh on Avatar the Last Airbender. He was a great actor and a good man.
Last note, for those of you who are waiting for the next part to Guardian, I am working on it. I don't know when exactly I will be able to post, but hopefully around Christmas.
Well, hope you liked this part. The next one is currently in progress.
