Chapter Name
Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!
Posted January 10, 2014.
3: YEARS 6 - 11
Summer of 1996 - End of August 2001
June, 2001
The last week in June always meant end of year exams. This year, it meant the end of grade five for Harry. His classes now included Language Arts, Math, Science, Social Studies, History, and Magical Culture, the curriculum being laid out by the Ministry of Education.
He did quite well in his studies, even as the magical courses began to be introduced as he got older. The college easily adapted to Harry's non-magical schedule, with the instructors (and some of the more advanced students in the college) teaching the lessons. In Tamriel, there were five specific schools of magic: alteration, conjuration, destruction, illusion, and restoration. Two other skills were very much magically related, but didn't involve a lot in terms of casting, yet they were still very much a magic skill: enchanting, and alchemy.
Up to this point, Harry had not seen anything to do with enchanting, but the Arch-mage had made good on his promise, and so provided instruction in alchemy. It was no surprise that Justin tended to sit in on those lessons, if only to gain insight into a different type of potion-making. As he learned, the skill was VERY different in Tamriel.
Harry now looked like a boy of nearly thirteen, even though he was just shy of turning eleven. His black hair had grown to nearly his shoulders, laying thick and wavy rather than the mess it had been years before. It also covered up the infamous scar on his forehead quite nicely. He'd filled out a lot, thanks to a much more substantial and regular diet, and was now about the same size Mazhe had been when he was eleven. His wardrobe had changed little, with him electing to stay with the clothes the Commonwealth had bought him (it was something they still did, making sure his clothes were in good shape and fit him properly).
Mazhe was now very much a young man, with the early fuzz of facial hair cropping up on his chin and lower jaw. He had shaved off most of his hair with a sharp blade, leaving but a simple thin row of it in the middle. It had over time flopped over to the left, giving him a rather intimidating appearance. The boy was still a mage, though, taking on more advanced studies in the five magical subjects taught at the College. Though Mazhe and Harry were still tutored together for all the subjects, it was only natural that Mazhe would pick up on the material quicker, given he was older.
Justin had certainly undergone a few changes himself. Now being twenty-three, he'd graduated from Sir Malcolm Davis Institute with good grades, both in the mundane courses, and those that were magical. Just the previous spring, he'd obtained his Bachelor of Science from the Central University in Erwin, and now he'd set his sights on obtaining a special Doctorate. He was at present working on a thesis paper which covered a theory on how to improve the Commonwealth's at times spotty wireless network.
That resulted in Justin spending a lot more time at the college, even if he wasn't teaching Harry and his best friend. Of course, if he really admitted it, he'd spent a lot of time at the college, period. There had certainly been more than a few days he'd missed at school, because he'd been dragged out on some adventure by his young friends. Skyrim was a fantastic place, and a sinkhole for adventure. One only had to look at Harry and Mazhe's room in the Hall of Attainment for proof.
The room was still neat and relatively tidy, but the walls were now lined with several wardrobes and trunks, all containing a collection of items discovered over the past five years. A collage of photos adorned the wall space behind the beds, all of them moving, depicting the three of them (or sometimes more) in various locations, after some adventure or another.
Some of their adventures had involved Dungeon-crawling, and that proved a lesson all in its own, with the undead shuffling around, growling, muttering in a strange language Harry had never heard before. Urag gro-Shub, the college's lore keeper had loaned him several books that helped him solve the puzzle: the dragon tongue... the language of the dragons, or Dovah.
That had been a true eye-opener, as Harry learned the dragon-lore of Skyrim, including an ancient prophecy which detailed the return of the Dovah, and the greatest, most fearsome of them all: Alduin, the world-eater. Given Harry was well aware of one prophecy concerning him, he certainly did not poke fun or scoff at it in any way.
Harry, of course, knew of the prophecy already. When he was eight, Will and Alice, along with Guardian Elaine, had brought a pensieve with them one afternoon. It had been obtained thanks to the information passed on from the future. The four of them had watched as the haunting figure in glasses that magnified her eyes like that of a bug, speaking in harsh tones...
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"
July 23, 2001
This day was expected. Returning from the Hall of the Elements and his Illusion lesson, Harry was not surprised to find a tawny owl waiting patiently for him on his trunk at the foot of the bed, a letter secured to its leg. It wasn't the first time he'd received post by owl, but it was a rarity within the Commonwealth, given there were much faster methods of communication.
"Your school letter," Mazhe assumed, to which Harry only gave a short nod.
"You're really gonna go there?"
"It's where mum and dad went... and you know about the prophecy, Mazhe. I have to give it a go," Harry answered, as he relieved the owl of its package, and offered it a few bits of dried skeever strips.
"Wait for my reply." The owl puffed its feathers, and seemed to make itself at home, while Harry opened the package, momentarily glancing at the address, which had been written in an elegant script in shining green ink:
Mr. H. J. Potter
Hall of Attainment
College of Winterhold
Skyrim Province
How was it they were able to exactly pinpoint his address? He let out a snort, wondering how they would have reacted, had he still been living at the Dursleys. "The Cupboard Under the Stairs." Like that would have went over well!
The letter inside was printed on thick parchment, in ink identical to that on the envelope.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress(1)
Harry absently passed the letter over to Mazhe, and glanced over the list of things he would need for the school year. A standard uniform, protective gloves (Harry smirked, realizing he had something of his own already), a winter cloak (Harry again smirked, since he already had stuff suitable for a cold climate)... pointed hat? Were they serious?!
A pewter cauldron, scales, crystal or glass phials, telescope, and a wand... a wand? Oh, right, of course, he realized—considering he'd seen Justin's wand more than enough times. It would certainly be weird, using a focus to cast magic. Then the question was, how different was this world's magic to that of Skyrim? Maybe he could learn to do things here without a wand as well. That would be an advantage, wouldn't it?
'Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad,' he read. A cat? Pass. Toads? Really? No, if he had a choice, it would be an owl. Why didn't owls exist in Skyrim, he mused, as he continued reviewing the equipment list.
"They really knew where you live?"
"I know," said Harry, shaking his head, "Scary. Gonna have some questions for Will and Alice."
"What's that?" Mazhe gestured to the second parchment.
"Things I'll need at the school," Harry answered, as he took a seat at his desk, and pulled out a clean sheet of paper and an envelope. The reply was relatively short.
Dear Deputy Headmistress McGonagall,
I thank you for the invitation to attend my parents' school. This is to inform you that I accept the invitation, and look forward to attending classes at the beginning of September.
Sincerely,
H. J. Potter
He then wrote out the address on the envelope, sealed it closed with a wax seal, and secured it to the owl's leg.
"Back to Hogwarts and the deputy headmistress, if you please."
The owl opened its wings and lifted off, to fly out the door and disappear around the corner.
"Guess I need to also get a message back to Will and Alice, they wanted me to let them know as soon as this stuff arrived. I'll need to get this stuff, right?"
"I want to come with you," said Mazhe, firmly.
"I'd like that, but I don't know if the Commonwealth will allow it."
"We'll needle Justin 'till he caves, then," Mazhe smirked.
The following morning, at an hour that would have been insane to most, Harry, Justin, and Mazhe took a port key back to Trevelyan, where they were met by Will and Alice. There had been debate about allowing Justin to handle things, given he was more than capable as a chaperone; however, there was a potential matter at Gringotts, and it was thought that some sort of official representation might be more suitable.
Just because Harry had been spirited away to the College of Winterhold, it did not mean the Commonwealth was any less invested in Harry's care. Officially, Alice Wheeler was the primary caseworker on the file. Will was the immediate supervisor, but given the nature of the file, he took a much closer interest in the matter. The pair of them were in regular contact with Harry, and most certainly were privy to his progress, both mentally and academically. The change in environment had done wonders, and with the close one-on-one instruction, he had done very well up to this point. Both Mazhe and Justin had been good for him.
Back to the present, the five of them at last stepped out of the fireplace and into the dingy little pub in London which worked as the gateway into Diagon Alley. Both Alice and Will had been into the Diagon Alley on more than a few occasions, but up until now, Justin had not been.
Unfortunately, it proved to be a disappointment to him. It felt like he'd stepped back in time. Oppressive, behind-the-times, draconian, all of these things came to the forefront as Justin entered Diagon Alley for the first time. The witches and wizards walking the cobblestone-lined alley were equally outdated, wearing robes and clothing which looked quite uncomfortable, at least in his opinion. He already knew a bit about England's Wizarding society, it being covered in history class, and seeing this... made him form an even lower opinion of them. They feared change. Or, more specifically, a few of them feared change, and used their status and powers of intimidation, to ensure things stayed exactly as they were.
The first stop was Gringotts, the Wizarding bank. The Commonwealth government was unable to get any sort of straight answer out of the goblins as to whether or not Harry had any sort of wealth held in trust, but they went on the assumption that he did. And so, the small group stepped up to the snowy-white building which seemed to tower over its neighbours.
They crossed the vestibule, arriving at a second set of doors, upon which was a large plate with the engraved words:
Enter stranger but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn,
So if you seek beneath our floors,
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.(2)
"The branch in Trevelyan has the exact same sign on their door," said Justin. "Get a few brainless wonders who try it. Touched in the head, I think. Or spun out on something—"
"Justin..." Alice scolded, casting him a dirty look.
"No one's ever pulled it off," said Will, shaking his head, "Trying to rob a magical bank, no, you won't get far."
They found themselves in an immense marble hall, with what seemed like a hundred creatures seated behind a long counter, conducting typical bank business. There seemed to be dozens of doors leading off of this hall, with more of the little creatures leading witches and wizards in and out of them.
"Miss Wheeler, what are those, um, creatures?" Mazhe finally asked quietly, trying to be polite.
"Goblins. Shrewd people, but they've handled the financial affairs of the Wizarding world longer than the Commonwealth's existed," Alice answered, as they made their way up to an open wicket.
"Can I help you?" The goblin asked.
"Yes," Harry answered, gathering up his courage, "My name is Harry Potter, and I need to find out about my vaults... rather, if I have any, and how much money I have in them."
"I see. Do you have your key?"
"No, sir. I'm just returning to the Wizarding world now, see. My, err... guardians seem to think I have at least one vault—"
"Very well. If you will all follow me."
The goblin hopped down from his stool, and a moment later, appeared through a small opening in the counter. He led them across the hall, to a set of doors. That led them into a lengthy hallway with more doors leading off of it, at last stopping at one labelled 'Evstor, Senior Account Manager'. The goblin knocked, and a moment later came a gruff "Enter!"
"Evstor will see to your questions, Mr. Potter."
"Thank you, sir." And the group stepped through the door.
The office was much larger than Mazhe expected it to be, but he'd seen that type of magic before. Enlargement charms. Justin had a mastery in that subject, and demonstrated his skill on more occasions than Mazhe could remember. A single, large desk was set up at the back of the room, behind which sat an ancient goblin, peering back at them with half-moon spectacles.
"I am Evstor. What can I help you with, Mr. Potter?"
"I don't know where to start—" Harry began, but Alice cut in, saying, "Mr. Potter needs to know about his accounts here at Gringotts. Trust vaults, family vaults, and so on."
"I see. Come here then, Mr. Potter."
Evstor swiped a finger toward a stack of parchment sitting on another desk off to the side, and said stack flew to his outstretched hand. Harry stepped up to the desk, with the others following close behind.
"These individuals you have with you today, you are comfortable with them knowing your business?"
"Yes sir," Harry answered.
"Very well then. Write your full name on this parchment."
Evstor pushed the blank page of parchment toward the boy. He picked up the offered quill, dabbed it in the ink pot, and scrawled out his name, although rather sloppily. It didn't seem to matter, though, as it momentarily turned green, then vanished. In its place, were several others: his parents.
"My mum and dad," Harry whispered, staring at the names.
"Indeed, Mr. Potter."
Evstor dragged a finger across another parchment, and pushed it toward the young wizard.
"Now that the bank has verified who you are, you will find here a statement of your current vaults. You should be aware, the family vault cannot be accessed until you turn seventeen. The Black vault is a bit of a conundrum, of which I will not further divulge. That issue will also come forth once you turn seventeen. As to your trust vault..."
Another gesture with a hand, and a single gold key appeared on the top of the pile of parchment. That was slid across the desk.
"Is that all we can do for you today?"
"Who else has access to my vault?" Harry threw out.
He wasn't sure, but he wanted to be sure he'd crossed all his T's and dotted all his I's. Another gesture of the hand by the goblin.
"Most peculiar."
"If others are accessing his vault, put a stop to it at once," said Will.
"By what authority?" Evstor questioned, giving Will a sharp eye.
"Mine," answered Harry, "Miss Wheeler and Mr. Jarvis are looking out for my affairs. So if they say something's not right, it probably isn't."
"Very well. Though your magical guardian may not agree with that."
"Who is my magical guardian?"
"Albus Dumbledore."
"That will be changed in the near future, Harry," said Alice, "He shouldn't be anyone's magical guardian, with all the titles he has."
"It is not our place to say," said Evstor, "Now. Is there anything else you need assistance with, Mr. Potter?"
"No sir. Only, if I could visit my vault, please."
"Actually, I do have a question," said Will. "Though Harry may not directly access the contents of the estate, the estate still has a number of investments, am I correct?"
Evstor glanced at another set of notes in front of him. "That is a correct assumption."
"Is there anything preventing the dividends from such investments from being passed on to Harry's trust vault?"
"Irregular, but..." Evstor smirked. "I think we can do that. There will be a fee for such transactions."
"Of course."
"Investments?" Harry asked.
"Come, Harry. Your family was very wealthy. Investing their money was one of the reasons behind it," said Alice.
"What sort of companies?"
"I see a rather healthy lump of shares in Valicor..." Evstor narrowed his eyes a moment as he glanced at another set of notes that seemed to update for him. "Another rather large lump of shares in a rather large pharmaceutical company... Umbrella Corporation. Menial shares in several rather profitable firms..."
"Could we get a copy of the record?"
Evstor gestured with a finger, producing an identical set of parchment, and pushed it toward Will.
The cart ride down to his vault was one of the craziest rides ever for Harry and Mazhe. Alice and Will, on the other hand, had dealt with wealthy Wizarding clients before, and so had endured the experience of Gringotts carts. Justin had his own vault in Trevelyan, and so had most certainly experienced the carts before. They had to be miles underground by the time they came to a stop, by a small passageway.
"Vault seven-sixty-eight," said the goblin named Griphook, "Key please."
Harry handed his key over, and Griphook unlocked the large vault door. A cloud of nasty green smoke billowed out of it, but when it cleared, a large mound of gold coins was revealed.
"Gods," Harry whispered, "Seeing it on parchment was one thing... seeing it for real is another altogether!"
"Gods above, Harry! You're loaded!" Mazhe exclaimed, while Harry collected a bunch of coins into a black bag. He stopped and shrugged.
"Money doesn't mean a lot to me, Mazhe. You know that. Your friendship's worth more than all the coins in this vault. Stuff like that can't be replaced."
"And to think, he's only eleven!" Justin mock-exclaimed, and smirked. Harry answered by flinging a knut at him.
"Hey!"
"'least he didn't throw one of the gold ones," Mazhe smirked, amused.
Will let out a cough, trying to cover up his own amusement, while Alice pursed her lips.
"Right. The gold ones are galleons. Silver are sickles, seventeen of those make up a galleon," Alice explained, "The bronze ones are knuts, twenty-nine of those make up a sickle. A bit confusing, but you get used to it after a while."
That earned a sneer from Griphook.
"I'll try and keep that in mind," said Harry.
After an equally harrowing ride back up to the surface, they set about getting the things required on the equipment list. A visit to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, to pick up his school robes. Next came a stop at Flourish & Blotts, the bookstore. Harry was in there well over a half-hour, as he picked out not just the text books he would need for first year, but a number of other interesting titles as well. A few of them made those with him frown somewhat, but no one said anything different, and so they were added to the stack he purchased. That included one titled, 'Curses and Counter-Curses (Bewitch your friends and befuddle your enemies with the latest revenges: Hair-loss, Jelly-legs, Tongue-tying, and much, much, more)' by Professor Vindictus Viridian.
"What?" Harry asked, seeing Justin's furrowed brows, "Remember Enthir's pranks the first year? Time I returned the favour."
"Probably be a while before you can do any of the stuff out of that one, Harry," said Will, shaking his head, "Wait a couple of years."
"Doesn't mean I can't read up on it."
"Hey Harry, you mind if I pick out a few books myself?" Mazhe asked.
"Go for it."
"I'll pay you back."
"Don't worry about it. You have a birthday in Hearthfire anyway, consider them an early birthday present."
"All right, fine, I surrender," said Mazhe, raising his arms in mock-defeat.
"If he's gonna be a while, I have a few more suggestions, things that might make your year a little easier," said Justin.
After stopping to buy ink and quills, it was a stop in the apothecary to purchase a potions kit and a basic supply of potions ingredients for first year. The shop was fascinating, pungent odour not withstanding—Harry had smelled things much worse, living in Skyrim. Coming across the two-week old rotting corpse of a mammoth was something to behold—or not.
The apothecary reminded Will of a few more books, which resulted in them backtracking to Flourish & Blotts. The Commonwealth had done plenty of research into Hogwarts and what sort of curriculum they offered. That, of course, also involved an investigation into the professors. So it was known that potions could be a real challenge, along with History of Magic. Plans were already in the works to cover at least History of Magic, and if necessary, potions.
The last thing on the list was a wand. Both Will and Alice had decided they would purchase Harry's pet as a birthday—Harry had been adamant it be an owl, both had only laughed and nodded. And so, Harry, Mazhe, and Justin now found themselves on the threshold of Ollivander's, the solitary wandmaker in Diagon Alley.
The place was small, rather dim and dusty, with thousands of boxes piled nearly to the ceiling. The silence was almost stifling, and for some reason, the hairs on the back of Harry's neck were standing on end.
"Good afternoon."
All three of them nearly jumped out of their skins out of surprise. The first thing they realized, the man was old. Ancient-old, with shining, pale eyes.
"Err. Good afternoon, sir," Harry answered.
"Ah, yes, I was expecting you, Harry Potter. You have your mother's eyes."
"Err... yeah, I've been told that a few times."
"I remember your mother coming in to purchase her wand. Seems it was only yesterday. Ten and a quarter inches long, made of willow, swishy. Nice wand for charms work."
Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry, and circled the boy.
"Your father on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches, pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say that your father favoured it—the wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter."
Mr. Ollivander stopped so he was facing the boy, and brushed the long hair out of his face, to reveal the infamous scar blazed on his forehead.
"And that's where... I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "Thirteen and a half inches, yew, very powerful wand. Very powerful in the wrong hands. If I'd known—"
"It's not your fault, sir," said Harry, calmly, although Mr. Ollivander was making him very uncomfortable. His unblinking eyes, and his disregard for a person's personal space and all...
"Indeed, although—"
Mr. Ollivander's attention was finally focused on the other two individuals who had come into the shop with Harry. First focusing his attention on Justin, he inclined his head.
"Justin Fraser. Alder wood, eleven and an eighth inches, unicorn hair, somewhat firm in the hand. Bought at O'toole's Wands and Focii, twelve years ago."
"Yeah, about right," Justin agreed, "Pleasure to meet you, sir."
If he was wierded out by the old man's rather intimate knowledge of his wand, he didn't show it.
Mr. Ollivander turned his attention to Mazhe, and for a moment, appeared confused.
"You simply go by Mazhe. A long way from home, young mage. You use nothing to focus your magic?"
"No, sir. The magic is rather different where I'm from," the boy answered.
"And have you been learning to cast magic in such a manner, Mr. Potter?"
"Yes sir."
"You will find, then, that casting through a wand—or focus—will be somewhat easier, once you grasp the basics of channelling your magic in that manner. Given you are developing your abilities wandlessly, I would suggest you continue to practice. It is a somewhat rare gift in our world."
"I plan to. No offense, sir, but I think being forced to rely on a wand serves to only cripple someone's abilities," said Harry.
"Yes, and there would be a number of individuals who would agree with that sentiment. But, as it is a requirement for attending Hogwarts, shall we begin?"
Mr. Ollivander turned back to Harry, and pulled out what looked like an ordinary tape measure.
"Which is your wand hand?"
"I... err... I'm right handed, sir."
"Hold out your arm, then—that's it," said Mr. Ollivander, and the tape went to work on its own accord.
As he shuffled about the shop, he lectured about wand materials and wand cores, and at last told the tape measure to stop.
"All right, Mr. Potter. Beechwood and dragon heartstring, nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."
Harry felt a little goofy, but he took the wand and waved it around a bit. Mr. Ollivander snatched it back at once.
"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches, quite whippy. Try—"
Harry had tried, but had barely had a chance to raise it, when it was snatched back.
"Oak, eight and a quarter inches, unicorn hair, supple."
This time when Harry gave it a wave, a yellow bolt of magic erupted from the end of it, slammed into a stack of boxes sending them flying, and slammed into the wall with a noisy crack. Harry quickly put the wand back on the counter, looking rather sheepish.
"No, definitely not."
Harry was handed another.
"Elm, ten and three quarters inches, phoenix feather, flexible. Well?"
"It doesn't feel right, sir. At least with the last one, I got some sort of reaction out of it. This one feels dead to me," Harry answered.
"Indeed?!" Mr. Ollivander looked impressed. "Give this one a try. Holly and dragon heart string, eleven inches, nice and supple."
The second Harry's hand closed around the handle, a sudden warmth surged into his fingers. To be certain, he gave the wand a cautious wave, and was rewarded as a wonderful bloom of red sparks burst from the end, ending in a joyous firework.
"Well done, well done, Mr. Potter!"
"It feels nice in the hand. How much do I owe you, sir?"
"Seven galleons. We expect great things from you, Mr. Potter."
"We'll see," Harry answered evenly, as he counted out the coins.(3)
The three of them were more than happy to be out of the store, for identical reasons.
"Gods, that was creepy. Think I'd rather deal with a horde of Draugr," said Harry, with a grimace.
"No kidding. Felt naked in front of him for some reason," said Mazhe, shaking his head, "How did he know stuff about us?"
"I dunno. Maybe he can read your thoughts or something. I mean, I've heard of that sort of thing, right?"
"I think all wand crafters are similar, guys," said Justin, as they began heading back toward the Leaky Cauldron, "When I bought my wand at O'toole's it was about the same."
"Definitely creepy though."
"Somehow I think we've only seen the tip of it," said Harry, shaking his head, "I'm beginning to doubt the sanity of my choice, I think."
"Aw come on, Harry, you'll love it. I went to school in a plain old government building with clinically clean classrooms. You're going to spend ten months in one of the most famous castles in the Wizarding world. For all the problems, its an amazing place."
"Yeah, I know. Just..."
"Happy birthday Harry!" Both Will and Alice were approaching, with an enormous cage. Inside it, was a beautiful snowy owl.
"Gods... he's beautiful!"
"A she, Harry."
"Thank you."
He knelt down so he was eye-level with the beautiful owl.
"You're gorgeous. I hope you don't mind, but I can't name you just now. Have to think on it."
The owl simply blinked and puffed her feathers. Harry stood up.
"I'll probably want to leave her with someone here while I'm back at the College for the summer. Too many things there that might make a meal out of her."
"I can probably look after her for you," Justin offered.
"We'll figure something out when the time comes," said Alice, "Now. Have you got everything?"
"I think so."
"Let's grab a bite to eat for lunch, and we can get back to Trevelyan," Will suggested.
As they had lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry thought over everything he'd just observed. That included the activity that went on around him at the moment (excluding his friends). The place looked to be locked in the eighteenth century—if what he'd learned in history was anything to go by. Was that witch in the corner... smoking a pipe? Sure, he'd seen unusual living at the College... but... he was rapidly coming to the conclusion the English Wizarding world were all off their nut.
He would give it his best go, but really... if everyone was that mental, he would finish his education through the Commonwealth. Things had worked out really well thus far, and as it was, he would want to continue his mundane courses over the floo network, or through owl post.
If anything, the big drive for him to try out Hogwarts, was to meet and possibly make friends with young people his age. Sure, Mazhe was his best friend, hands down, but he was still five years older. And Justin... well, he was like a big brother rather than best friend. He was an excellent teacher, mentor, and friend, but he was more than twice Harry's age. So yes, he really needed some friends his own age.
The following day, Justin began helping Harry to get used to his wand, and do a few exercises. Since charms were his specialty, it was no surprise that was where he picked up.
"Right. So we'll start with one you already somewhat know how to do. At least the mechanics of it. The lift spell, isn't it?"
"This one, you mean?" Harry flicked a hand at a nearby stack of books, and with a gesture, they all lifted off the floor. However, for further amusement, he flicked his hand at a second stack, setting them in the air also.
"Uh, well, don't know if you can do that with a wand, but... cancel those, and we'll try with your wand." That had Mazhe smirking, while Harry cancelled the spell. Justin, meanwhile, opened the first year Charms textbook to the appropriate page.
"This details the wand movements, and for a bit of home work, I want you to read the section which covers its theory. Here through here." He indicated the appropriate passages. "In the meantime, we'll practice the wand movements. Watch carefully."
Justin produced his wand, and cast toward the stack of books Harry had levitated just a short while before. "Nice swish and a flick... Wingardium Leviosa."
Like with Harry's cast, the books all lifted off the floor.
"Unfortunately, unlike with your spell, I have to keep focus with this charm, or it falls apart." He broke concentration, and the stack fell back to the ground making a noisy SMACK.
Harry traced the wand motion from the text book a few times, with Justin correcting him, before he actually tried it. Unsurprisingly, the first attempt produced very little. In fact, it was an hour later before he was able to get the books to lift off the floor.
"Much more challenging."
"You're being forced to channel your magic through a focus, rather than through your hands," said Mazhe, "It seems unnatural to me, I mean, our hands make much better focii."
"And if Harry were to start learning magic without a wand, it would make more trouble for him than it's worth. You remember what Mr. Ollivander said about wandless magic," Justin reminded him.
"This is true. But Harry... humour me a moment. Try using the incantation from your textbook but use your hand to do the wand motion."
Harry stowed his wand, then produced the correct wand motion, this time just using his hand. "Wingardium Leviosa."
To his surprise, the stack of books left the floor, exactly as had happened with Justin's casting.
"Now use your other hand."
The process was repeated, with identical results.
"Damn, Harry." Justin was clearly impressed.
"But I can't produce the same results with the wand." Harry was obviously frustrated by this.
"Just as Mazhe and Mr. Ollivander said, you have to get used to channelling your magic in a different manner. Level one magical classes are all about the student getting used to channelling their magic. Just trust the instructors and study the material. You'll get it."
Justin thought for a moment.
"Okay, so your extra homework during the year. Any time a new spell is introduced, I want you to practice using both your wand and your hands to produce it. Being able to cast without a wand gives you a tremendous advantage."
"Can you cast without a wand?" Mazhe asked.
"No. Or, not well. Like Mr. Ollivander said, it's a very rare talent, only a few witches and wizards can do it in our world. Or in your case, someone who's been taught from the get-go."
"I'm gonna miss having you as a teacher, Justin."
"I'm not going anywhere. And really, if the Commonwealth can swing it, we'll meet by fire call periodically so you can keep up with your non-magical courses."
"It still won't be the same."
"You'll do fine. And it's only until the middle of Evening-star. You get a nice long break there. And we've still got a month before you have to go."
That month went far faster than Harry would have liked. All too soon, Last Seed came to a close, and the 1st of Hearthfire had arrived(4). It was time to travel to London and meet the Hogwarts Express, which would take him to Hogwarts.
Five years had gone in the blink of an eye. Now, as one chapter of Harry's life came to a close, a new one was about to begin. Sure, his old friends weren't going anywhere, but he would meet some new ones, as well as make a few enemies. One of those would prove an endless source of difficulties for the foreseeable future—the Dark Lord notwithstanding.
AUTHOR NOTES:
(1) Source: p.42 – 43, "Philosopher's Stone", Canadian paperback edition. Verbatim text.
(2) Source: p.56 – 57, "Philosopher's Stone", Canadian paperback edition.
(3) Largely taken from p.63 – 65, "Philosopher's Stone", Canadian paperback edition. Changes made to suit, etc..
(4) Last Seed – August. Hearthfire (Sometimes also written as Hearth Fire) – September.