Chapter Twenty-Six
Usher in December
Tuesday morning, an exhausted Harry dragged himself out of bed at seven-oh-five. It was much later than he normally slept, but he'd been so magically exhausted from the fruitless wand shopping and then Paradise insisted that they go train for a few hours… They had talked while training, and it gave him an opportunity to teach her Latin, which was improving his own skills. Not that Paradise appreciated being babbled at in a language she didn't want to learn.
Cormac was the only boy left in the dorm, and Harry found himself wishing that he could move back in with Dean, Seamus and Ron. Ron had been, well, not intolerable lately, but they'd only ever been around each other when the third years all hung out together or in class. And even then, Ron now knew better than to seek him out. Harry sighed and started going about his morning routine, thankful that he could ignore Cormac's incessant chatter.
Harry stowed the stick of rock that Ollivander had gifted to him. The old man had said it would be difficult to cast without a focus because he'd overpower each and every spell until he learned to tone down the magic. Although, Harry did want to check and see if the "leech" magic of his was still working. He could do that at breakfast, though, with, um, whatsherface, Ruth. Right. Ruth Turpin.
The common room was empty of the normal bunch of people. Everyone he normally spent the morning with must have already gone on to breakfast. The fifth year boys were gathered together over an armchair, all studying a singular piece of parchment. Harry wandered over to them and stuck his head in their circle. Fred instantly closed up the parchment, so he didn't get a good look at what it was. Not that he really cared. "Plotting some grand prank?"
"For Yuletide," Lee said, "planning's got to start early."
"I'm sure Patricia would say the same about studying," Harry retorted, rolling his eyes at the older boy.
"All right, smarty pants," Kenneth smirked, "all of the fourth, fifth, and second years."
Harry gulped. He'd gotten away from Kenneth's quizzes for long enough, but he really didn't want… oh geez, this was going to suck. And he had no wish to lose any textbooks at the moment. "Fourth year Gryffindors are Able, Katie, Queenie, Eliza, Mary, Cormac, Dakota and Demelza. Fourth year Ravenclaws are Eddie, Nora, Leanne, Cho, and, um, I'll come back to this. Fourth year Slytherins are Selene, Persephone, Julius, and the, um, the Higgs girl. Fourth year Hufflepuffs—" he knew this one. He really did know this one… "um, Logan, Corny, Danielle, Zach, and, um, Frank. The rest of the Ravenclaws…" he'd heard Eddie and Nora discussing them frequently enough… he knew this. "Lance, Marietta and Marcus. I think."
The other boys were nodding encouraging. "That's one year," Kenneth said, "one year of names."
"Fifth year Gryffindors are Kenneth, Lee, Fred, George, Angelina, Alicia, and Patricia. The fifth year Ravenclaws are Samantha, Sally, Rodger, um, Gabriel's older sister – Christina? and, eh, Brian. The fifth year Hufflepuffs are Declan, Horizon, Fae, Kaitlin, and I think David. And then the fifth year Slytherins are Jacob, those two Quidditch guys… Pucey and Warrington, and then those two outcasts, Montague and, um… the female Flint."
"Need her name," Kenneth said, sing-songy.
"Really?" Harry whined. "Megan."
"Wrong. Maria. Do the second years."
"I wanna go to breakfast," Harry complained. He was late enough as it was. Still, he hadn't actually talked to Kenneth for a while… "Second year Gryffindors are Sarah, Ginny, Harry, Andy, Geo, Zia, Colin, Ritchie, Clara, and Clementine. Second year Slytherins are Gracelyn, Zach, Sapphire, Sebastian, Harriett and Franklin. And there's more. Second year Ravenclaws are, um, that I know of… Harrison, Orion, Noelle and the Ackerley girl. The Hufflepuffs are the two Ingrahams, Harry, Nat, Gabriel, Greg, Charlotte, Xavier, and—" the one he nearly always forgot… "Brianna."
"You're definitely weak there," Kenneth said, still a bit sing-songy. "But hey, you've been so recently traumatized…"
"Shut up," Harry griped. "I'm going to breakfast."
He went to breakfast. Thankfully, the statue of himself had been taken down or moved… elsewhere. But it was still disturbing to enter the Great Hall and instantly have people whispering about you, and not just people, but people whom he knew. People who he might have counted friends. The circular tables – which weren't uncommon, but were a bit of a rarity for breakfast – were set up, so Harry pulled up a seat with Angelina, Katie, Alicia, Oliver, the Cedric Diggory guy, the Hufflepuff captain, and one of the Hufflepuff beaters. The next weekend was a Hogmeade weekend at the end of the week: the fourth of December, and that Sunday, Hufflepuff was taking on Ravenclaw.
The Gryffindor chasers welcomed him warmly, and Diggory was enthusiastic about greeting him, but Oliver and the other two Hufflepuffs were too wrapped up in a tactic's discussion to notice. Harry ate quickly and didn't really join into the girls' and Cedric's conversation. They were discussing the pros and their chances of actually making professional play. Cedric said that his were fairly high, but his dad wanted him to go into the Ministry, so he likely wouldn't pursue professional Quidditch. As for the girls… everyone knew that in a two or three years, if none of them got injured, they could write their own ticket in the professional league. Still, they were talking about where they'd like to play.
And so Harry had to interject "You know, I own a Quidditch team, and it needs some rebooting; they're three and nine this season. You guys could always play there."
And of course, that just got him stared at again.
"Um, the Lancashire Lions?" Cedric asked, puzzled.
"Sheffield," Harry said, chewing on a piece of toast.
The girls just blinked. After a few moments, Angelina asked, "Right. I know you lost your Nimbus… what broom are you planning on getting?"
"I don't know," Harry responded. Well, he wanted a Firebolt, but he did have a personal interest in the Comet line. "I'll have to contact Comet and see. And, well, there's a few Quidditch related things I need to go when I've got time."
Alicia pushed aside her finished plate and propped her chin up on her hands. "Am I still getting that Christmas present?"
"If you want," Harry said, "or if you want a Comet Chaser, that's good to." Cedric, and the other three, were all staring blankly at the younger players. They had no idea what was going on, but Alicia must have told Katie and Angelina about his offer, because they didn't seem even phased by what they were talking about. "I could also get you guys a trainer," Harry said. "Professional level, as a cooperative Christmas present. That is, if you're really serious about going pro."
Now everyone at the table was staring at him.
Harry finished his toast and stared right back.
"That would…" Angelina stuttered. "That would…"
"Wow," Katie said, "you're dead serious."
"You're my friends," Harry said, absent-mindedly. He really disliked how they were making a big deal about this, but in truth, he could recognize that it was a big deal and that they did have a right to freak a little.
"Merlin's bloody trousers," whistled the beater, "I need to become your friend."
Harry took a long sip of his juice and didn't look at the older boy. He didn't want to. The three Gryffindor chasers whirled on the beater. Angelina was the first to really speak: "Kyle Maurice Edgecrombie, you stinking little fame seeker!" And by the time she was done yelling at him, and Alicia was done yelling at him, and Katie had only just started, Edgecrombie had well and truly fled. But Harry was also just as eager to get away. He spotted Ruth Turpin among a bunch of other six years, grabbed his bag, and headed over to her table.
There were already eight at that breakfast table, so he didn't sit down, but Ruth finished her conversation with Percy's girlfriend and turned to him, questioningly. He greeted them and asked if they minded if he tried metamorphing. Ruth (who was wearing her hair in a violent blue mohawk) didn't have a problem. And so Harry tried. And he managed to make his hair grow long and then short again and it willingly morphed into a fiery Weasley red. Harry morphed it back, a little puzzled. It was almost easier to morph now, after his magic problems, than before. Was that just because he was magically a lot stronger and there was a lot of excess magic running through his veins? If that was the case and his sponge magic was still working, conceivably the best way for him to learn how to cast without his wand would be to spend time with someone who could cast wandlessly. Hopefully Tonks would still be able to spend a couple of mornings with him… He'd have to run by the theory with Pomfrey or something, but it would probably help.
Hopefully.
Eh…
Harry joined the throng of people and headed for his Wednesday morning class. It was Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, which was just one of the best combinations. He, Neville, Hannah and Sally-Anne were still supervising their long term project and their plants were still growing really well. It was no longer October too, so all three natural growers were really happy. Anyway, that class, Harry spent arguing with Megan Jones about superheroes while they worked on the assigned plant. He didn't really have that much of a base knowledge, but he knew enough to keep up with her. It was a fun conversation.
And, well, Wednesdays in general were some of the best days, because the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs spent the entire morning together and then all got up at midnight together for practical Astronomy. In DADA, Professor Lupin was teaching them about tactics and magical military history. And he was tying the tactic discussion into everything they'd already learned about the magical beasts that the Ministry qualified as Dark. It was just a great class.
Annnnnnd… That was that.
He'd been doing okay with the rock sticks and even, outside of class, tried casting simple charms without his sticks, but he completely overpowered the spells and nearly sent a small rock through the ceiling with a simple wingardium leviosa. His magic problems were getting really frustrating.
That Thursday, the second of December, Ginny Weasley had a mental breakdown at lunch.
Harry was sitting at an adjacent table – they were still the eight person circular tables – with Paradise and her first year friends, Gryffindors Lily and Vicky, Hufflepuffs Diana and Harrietta, Ravenclaw Rachelle Thompson, and Slytherin Athena Grant. Lily was a little giggly, as were Diana and Harrietta, but Rachelle and Athena handled his presence with impeccable social grace. Harry had come to expect nothing less from a Grant. Anyway, he spent lunch listening to the girls talking about their various classes as he helped Vicky with her homework in DADA. He knew her overwhelming distaste of Professor Lupin was situational, but it was affecting her grade and something had to be done… Which, yeah. He could get a good supply of that potion to Vicky's dad… perhaps make it a Christmas present or something.
At one of the nearby tables, Ginny was studying some textbook at the same table as Patricia and some of the more recluse Ravenclaws. The table wasn't anywhere near full. The tantrum seemed to come from nowhere. One minute she was fine and dandy, and the next, she was screaming her head off, crying, and begging to leave the school. Harry tried to go calm her down, but Paradise and Vicky held him down, complaining about the last time she'd gone on a rampage.
From several tables over, a mortified, horrified, angry Ron tried to do the same. Ernie and Justin stopped him. The twins made it fairly close to their sister, but Patricia was really the one who calmed her down. The older girl caught Ginny by the wrist and physically forced the tantrum to stop. Ginny continued to scream. Emma and some of the other seventh year girls started pushing back the curious crowd, giving Patricia at least some space to work with. And, after a good five minutes, Ginny calmed down – at least to the point that she'd actually listen to some form of reason.
The whole spectacle had been hard to watch. It made Harry feel guilty. He felt guilty for Ginny's pain and her utter distrust of the school and all of the occupants. He felt guilty for Hermione and Justin's problems, for Colin too. He wanted to turn back time and make it all go away!
"Listen," Patricia said, her palms still enclosing Ginny's damp cheeks, "Hogwarts is the best place for you, Ginevra. I can prove that. Want me to prove that?"
Harry watched, morbidly fascinated, as Ginny nodded.
Patricia pulled away from the younger girl. She raised her voice to address the whole Great Hall. "For anyone who's ever thought they might want to attend a different school, come to the second classroom by the library during dinner tonight. Just come." She wrapped her arm around Ginny's shoulders and escorted the still upset little girl out of the Great Hall.
Harry, still feeling incredibly guilty, turned back to his meal.
"I don't like her," that was Lily. "She's really very not nice."
"Don't say that, Lily," Harry said, frustrated. "She's gone through a lot of rough things."
"So has Para," Diana said. "And she's nice."
Paradise winced.
"Paradise is human," Harry said, nudging his sister with a shoulder. "Just like the rest of us. She may have risen above what's happen to her and let it shape her into a better human being, but that doesn't mean she doesn't still have scars. I still have scars. I hate people." The girls stared at him, agape. "I hate them so much, because each day, they remind me – in little ways – of the bad sides of truly mean people. I see bullying in the hallways and I don't stop because, maybe I've had enough trouble lately. The bully sickens me. I sicken myself. Yet I still can't stand the sight of Melissa Ackerley, and she didn't anything to me. Just, if you ever do anything; try not to judge people based on how they acted. Ginny's a nice girl – congenial, even – but she hasn't learned how to handle the rough stuff."
"I don't like Ackerley either," whispered Rachelle, in the poignant pause that followed Harry's words. "She's mean."
Harry winced. "Do you know why?"
Rachelle opened her mouth, stopped, blinked a few times, before shaking his head.
Harry viciously stabbed at his food. "Yeah. Me neither. Maybe one day I'll figure it out."
o.o.o.o.o.o
Harry went to Patricia's talk because he was curious, but mostly because he had truly considered leaving Hogwarts and going to some other magic school, or possibly hiring tutors for himself and his friends. Maybe one day, he'd start a new school for the magically gifted where the teachers would be a bit better, the grounds a little nicer… Maybe. But every time he'd thought about it, Harry always kept coming back to the fact that Hogwarts was his home. He belonged among the drafty old hallways and the battered portraits that could whisper unimaginable secrets into the dark of night. He belonged in the air above rickety old Quidditch stands. He belonged in the red and gold decoration of Gryffindor. Nothing would change that… right?
Still, he went to Patricia's talk. It was himself, Ginny, Hermione, Eliza and Andy Kirke, Colin, and first year Ogden Wester. Very few Ravenclaws showed; just Nora Carmichael, Padma Patil, and two first year boys that Harry met as Adam Princeton and James Blackstone. The Slytherins contingent was even smaller, consisting only of Jacob Dare. Sally-Anne was the only Hufflepuff that showed. None of the Gryffindor – or other – prefects had wanted to come, so Harry knew that Sal was skulking in the background, like he always seemed to be.
"Hogwarts had stood for generations," Patricia opened, glaring down at the assembled students. "And it's not going to fall anytime soon. There's cold, hard data to support the fact that Hogwarts has the best, most well-rounded curriculum of any of the European schools. Actually, you have to scour the Americas before you find a school that produces, consistently, students that score better on the standardized tests than the average Hogwarts students. There are two other major schools in Europe; Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. And guess what, no Durmstrang student is going to know how to charm anything beyond a simple levitation spell, and Beauxbatons can't transfigure anything.
"Neither school provides the same opportunity in electives that Hogwarts does – although Durmstrang does have intensives in which you could learn Dark Magic, Ritualistic stuff, and other nonsense. And at Beauxbatons, there's a greater influence on Enchanting, but Hogwarts offers much of that. Professor Flitwick will run Enchanting seminars for fourth years and older, right Jacob? And there are classes in the animagus transformation, rituals, languages, politics, law, warding, healing, astronomy, runes, divination, arithmancy, care of magical creatures, and even muggle studies. All stuff that very few other schools can offer." She stopped to take a breath.
"Yes, our history teacher is a ghost, but who could be better to teach history than a ghost. Yes, Binns might not be the right ghost, but I think they've got the right idea; it would just take a revolutionary to change that. And we've gotten rid of Snape, but did you know, anyone who graduated NEWT potions under him could, almost instantly, achieve their potions mastery? He might not have been the best teacher for the not so gifted potioneers, but the man could teach. The DADA curse? Well, I've got no explanation for that; blame Dumbledore if you get worked up enough." Here, Patricia half-smiled and rolled her eyes. "And, yeah, Dumbledore. He's one of the greatest wizards of our day, and he's our headmaster. If that isn't something, what is?"
Harry stayed quiet. He really didn't agree about Dumbledore.
"So Ginny, and the rest of you, don't ever leave Hogwarts. If you graduate Hogwarts, there will be opportunities open for you, if not in Britain than abroad. You do have friends and family here, Ginny. We can and will look after and care for you. And the thing is, we represent a whole generation of wizards and witches here. Surviving at Hogwarts is a basis for surviving in magical Britain. If we can change things here, we have a chance of making positive changes in the real world, think about it!"
Harry's head snapped up and he met Patricia's eyes. There was a sparkle he hadn't previously seen in her, and a drive of courage and determination. And Harry knew who was behind the recent Hogwarts Revolution. It was the girl would probably never get credit for it who – he was still so very unclear on the details – manipulated the entire school into voiding the House Cup system, eliminating most of the house rivalries, and pretty much changing the entire make-up of the school! Patricia Stimpson! It was… It was… Wow. That was not who he would have guessed…
"Questions?"
Patricia spent the next half hour fielding Hermione's questions. Everyone else faded away, first Jacob, and then Nora and Padma, and then Ogden and Romilda, and then Eliza and Adam, and then James and Adam. Ginny and Colin left, only when Patricia said they could. They hung fairly close together… it was completely expected that they'd be friends, but Harry hadn't actually observed the two in close quarters much. Patricia only humored Hermione for about half an hour before giving her a list of reference books and telling her to look up the material for herself. Harry was the one who convinced Hermione to let him stay in Patricia's "care".
When the bookworm finally left, Patricia started swearing in French. What followed was her sighed "Granger is the perfect example of why I dislike people. I dislike talking to people. I dislike being around people. I just—"
"But you want to be a diplomat," Harry said, shrugging.
"See, that's a challenge!" Patricia exclaimed, "It's not just random, pointless chats. There's a strategy and a game behind diplomacy. "Besides, the Stimpson House has always been political. We're one of the few maintained political families with Gryffindor legacies. It's just us and the MacDonald's at the moment, but if you or Longbottom hit the political arena those lines will be revived."
Harry nodded. "Somehow, I don't think I'll get away from politics."
"Everyone loves you though," Patricia said, "you won't have to work for a thing in your life!"
"But I want to work," Harry retorted. "I want to understand. Tell me, Patricia, why'd you start the revolution?"
She frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't deny it. You started the Hogwarts Revolution."
Patricia's frown broke and her smile blared full strength, as if she were letting something out that had stayed hidden for far too long. "Yeah, actually. Well, a group of us did."
"And?" Harry prompted.
"Okay, Jacob Dare. You know him. Halfblood Slytherin. There's this first year, Erin Dallas, who's in the same boat: halfbood Slytherin. And you know, some people can actually handle the pressure and they do well enough. Erin hasn't been. She's been self-combusting because she tries to fit in and our society doesn't let her fit in. And Jacob, well, he'd been watching you for years – another halfblood, a Gryffindor, someone who could conceivably change the world. And after that break we had, when Jacob actually interacted with you, he decided he was done waiting. He was going to change society, change the school, whatever." Patricia flopped into a chair next to Harry.
"But he couldn't do it. I couldn't do it. Best thing that ever happened to us was having Persephone Grant walk in on a plotting section and actually agree to help us out. Seph really did do all the work."
Harry blinked. "She lets you call her Seph!"
Patricia snickered. "Not a word, Potter. Not a word. Although, you being you definitely helped out with the whole Revolution thing. And the Addison kid's Mum blowing it up in the papers. That bit you did with the Woods was genius."
Harry blinked again. "The Woods?"
"Convincing the Woods to be so outspoken about supporting eliminating the whole Quidditch and House Cup. Haven't you paid any attention to how much influence the four of them have had?"
"…No?"
"Excepting that little Aster girl, the youngest Wood is the most popular kid in the first year because of it. And the two of them make a great team when they want to get something done. Oliver and Zachary have been really influential with the various Quidditch players, and then Sally's got some influence over a lot of the fifth and sixth years. I mean, we haven't been working together, but we've definitely been on the same side."
"Well, I'm grateful," Harry said, standing. They'd both already missed dinner, but it wasn't that big of a deal. "Thanks, Patricia."
"Thanks yourself, Potter." She said, standing, shaking his hand, and practically fleeing the near empty room. Apparently enough social contact for the day…
Harry grabbed his back and darted through the darkened hallways towards Aurora's quarters. Other than going to Ollivander to, well, do that he hadn't really seen his guardian lately. Well, except classes, and even there she seemed a lot more distant than normal. It was odd. Sal caught up to him when they were finally in an empty hallway. The elf was normally invisible, but Harry really liked that Sal would walk next to him if no one was around to see. The little guy was completely different from Dobby, and if Harry was honest with himself, he liked Sal's quiet sincerity more than Dobby's bluntly awkward energy. They talked quietly as they walked, at a slower pace than normal, but Sal did have shorter legs…
Aurora wasn't back from dinner when they reached her quarters. The nondescript portrait grudgingly let him in. Sal started up a fire in the grate while Harry pulled one of Enon journals. This was one the ancient journal of one Bethany Enon and it dealt with her struggles during some war. Harry still couldn't decipher which war it was, mostly because Bethany's script was really hard to read. Still, Bethany Enon had been a very social girl at the top of a social ladder, so she spent quite a lot of time babbling on about place settings and manners. Harry actually found that stuff fairly interesting. And, honestly, he was a bit freaked out that he might dramatically mess up at the Longbottom Ball. He didn't have to worry about clothing. Through his daughters, Mr. Regan had made hundred percent sure that Harry Potter had a wardrobe to befit a king – and that was when the man didn't know about all the clothes in the Bartholomew vault. He also knew he'd be escorting Selene Grant. Which, well, he didn't know quite how that had happened, but Mary had just told him that Selene was his date for that day and he'd better be happy about it. Harry didn't particularly care. He did like the Grant girls. And Selene, mercifully enough, was shorter than he was now.
Which was actually rather astonishing.
"What are you doing here?"
Harry hadn't even heard her enter. He jumped and grinned sheepishly up at his guardian. "I just wanted to talk."
Aurora sunk into a chair opposite him and rested her elbows on her knees. She didn't put her face in her hands, but Harry figured that was what she felt like doing. She just reeked of exhaustion. Something was really wrong with her. "What's up, Harry?"
"You first."
She sighed. "Nothing is wrong, Harry."
"Something's wrong," Harry retorted, closing the Enon journal and stuffing it in his bag.
"I'm just tired."
"Why?!"
"Harry!" Aurora snapped. Her voice cracked a bit. "I'm not going to talk about it. So drop it and drop it now.
Harry shrunk back into his seat, not wanting to raise any more ire or anything at all. "Sorry. I just… sorry."
"Harry," Aurora sighed, "well, just talk away. How's the magic stuff going?"
"It's rough," Harry said. He took out one of the rock sticks and laid it across his legs. "I can feel the magic inside of me, all the time, like, just this constant, impossible energy. And when I want to use it, it doesn't want to be controlled. I've gotten some simple stuff down, and the stuff we're working on in class, but the stuff in between? I'm pretty much relearning the whole two years because I can't figure out a way around that."
"Elf magic," Sal said, popping into the room with a sandwich for Harry. The boy hadn't even noticed that the little guy had left. "Me teaches Harry elf magic."
"Would that help?" Aurora asked, incredulous.
"All control would help," Sal said. "Harry is sponge. Harry soak up magic like sponge. He is capable of all forms of magic."
Aurora paled. No, she went beyond pale. "All?"
"All," Sal repeated.
Harry stared at his guardian, not having a single clue what was going on.
"So, in theory," Aurora said, her voice weak, "he would be capable of learning lunar magic?"
"Of course Madam Professor Miss. Have you not considered this?" Sal asked, innocently. Aurora didn't respond immediately. And so the elf kept talking, "It might help him, actually, gain more and more control. Always searching for control…"
"I'm right here," Harry said, mostly to the elf. He did say it around a full bite of sandwich though, so his words came out rather muffled.
"Yes, Harry," Sal said, almost cheekily. "Me knows."
"Oh, and Aurora," Harry said, not quite sure he should say this, but desperately wanting to be truthful… "Paradise and I found the school armory, and she's got this drive to learn knife skills and martial arts. I'm doing it with her, though. I'll make sure she doesn't get hurt. You won't… you'll let us, right?"
Aurora closed her eyes and tried to force herself to breathe. She didn't really have much control over Harry. Truthfully, she believed that was part of the reason why he had accepted her as a guardian, because she didn't have the power to control him. Just… influence him and worry and… curse Merlin's bloody trousers. "If her grades drop even further—"
Harry snickered. Paradise was one of many who were failing History and, was it Potions? She was failing two subjects, but he could only do so much to help her.
"Then you're both stopping. If you get overwhelmed, you stop, clear?"
"Of course!"
"Good. Don't get killed."
"Sal won't let that happen," Harry said, finishing the last bite of his sandwich. "Thanks."
Nothing happened the night between December 2nd and December 3rd.
Nothing happened Friday, December 3rd.
Well, actually, a lot of things happened Friday, December 3rd, 1993, but there was absolutely nothing of note to report in the going-ons of Harry Potter's life. Or the lives of his friends. Or the life of the student body. Quite a few interesting things happened for the teachers of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but as the teachers are rather professional, no rumors or whispers leaked to the students of this or that or anything.