Chapter 9: Three Heads are better than One
A/N: Still don't own a fig. The Dice own themselves and seem to be telling a story of their own.
Harry was dragged to a corner of the common room and was annoyed he couldn't get to McGonagall that Friday. After some explanation and some attempts by Draco and Hermione to use his spell book to no avail, they just pondered what to do. Harry explained that he was going to go to Professor McGonagall first than Dumbledore second if she didn't know what to do. Ron suggested going straight to Dumbledore. The only problem, however, was that none of them knew where Dumbledore's office even was. They decided to wait until Dinner, but Dumbledore was not at the head table that evening. "Wonder where's he gotten to. You could always ask Mcgonagall to help?" Ron asked trying to be helpful. "They seem pretty busy... Can't I just-" Harry was cut off as Hermione poked him and looked like she was going to berate him. "Ok, Ok. But after Dinner please, I don't want to cause a commotion by going up to the Head Table so early in the year." Hermione nodded and they continued to eat. Unfortunately, as they finished desert and were released, Professor Mcgonagall had already left the hall. Harry unhelpfully shrugged at Hermione and they headed up to Gryffindor tower.
The week passed uneventfully, and Harry had yet to receive any other mail, otherwise he'd send a note to Professor McGonagall by Owl across the Hall. On Thursday, he decided enough was enough and after more strenuous poking and proding his matchstick into a needle (It was now silver and pointy, looking much like what Hermione and Draco had accomplished on the first day.) he waited as the Gryffindors filed out of the classroom to stay behind. Professor McGonagall looked up from the mix of matchsticks and near-needles she had collected. "Yes Mr. Potter, can I help you?" She asked. Harry nervously gulped, "I'd really like to talk to you in private, Professor, and it's a conversation that would take more than just a few minutes of your time." "I see. Very well, my Office is located on the first floor of the Defence Against The Dark Arts tower. I trust you can find your way there during Friday break." Harry nodded, thanked the professor and quickly caught up to his compatriots to not be late for Defence Against The Dark Arts. While Flying lessons were fun for Harry, History of Magic being a boring slog through time, Potions were still a nightmare. Harry always had the distinct feeling Professor Snape was watching over him, waiting for him to fail miserably. Luckily, he and his partner did a serviceable job on the potion of the day and the Professor nodded, gave a couple of tips and seemed to grade them well. He still favoured the Slytherins, handing points out like candy, but the school was practically buzzing with the idea that Snape was treating the first year Gryffindors with a modicum of respect and wondering if it were Harry or Draco behind it all.
Harry didn't care what the school thought, and after Lunch rushed to Professor McGonagalls office and knocked politely on her door. The Transfiguration and Head of Gryffindor's office was arranged as one might think, everything had it's place and not even the supplies for each year would be caught dead outside their proper homes. Some drawers were empty and there were very few parchments filed carefully away. Harry guessed Professor McGonagall used her classroom as well to keep things in meticulous order, he could imagine an older Hermione fitting the two rooms quite well.
"Please take a seat, Mr. Potter. I'll be with you in a moment." Professor Mcgonagall was clearing her desk of a long essay she bookmarked with a florish of her wand, changing a nearby feather into a clip to show which line she was at. "Not the best way to keep track of my most excellent 7th year's essay on the Eye of Vance but it will hold. She must be interested in Mr. Moody as he's the head of the Auror's. Now, how can I help you Mr. Potter?"
Harry felt nervous as he was about to confide his secret to someone besides what few people he had met, someone who actually had power over his academic future. "Well, the first reason I'm here is because Neville and I were attacked the first week here." Professor McGonagall frowned at this, "Not by another student!" Harry said quickly, though he thought this would make it even worse. "We were attacked by some large... er... large centipedes." He finished. "I see Mr. Potter, Filch reported those to us and even though all signs pointed to Transfiguration, the Transfiguration didn't END. Hagrid released them safely into the Forbidden Forest and will keep an eye on them, they seem to be a new type of magical creature. You could name it if you like." Harry shook his head no. "As to what is likely your next question, this castle attracts a lot of magic, usually creatures don't make it to the castle proper but it's an interesting mysterious castle. Who knows, maybe the founders thought it would be a good test of skill to allow weak creatures into the castle." She finished with a thoughtful expression on her face, as if she half believed this. "Well, they weren't that weak, one nearly bit me... and if more attack first years..." She looked up, "Right, after enough students, I keep forgetting our muggle-born students don't have access to magic so soon. How DID you manage to knock them unconscious? We saw that you and Neville kicked them a bit, but I'm sure you had to do something more to them than kicking at them."
They were now at a crucial point of the conversation. "I can do more magic than those found at least in the spellbooks we use this year, I haven't been able to use the library so much yet, but my compatriots at least haven't heard of the type of magic I can do." Harry said carefully. "And one of those.. compatriots is Hermione Granger." Professor McGonagall said, "I'm so very glad you keep to her company and hope you listen to her at least some times." Harry smiled, he knew Hermione was probably top of their year in all houses and this confirmed it. "Very well, Mr. Potter, suppose I take you at your word. You are able to perform some Transfiguration, about where I expect students to be only two weeks into the curriculum, but please, show me what you can do." Harry nodded and took out his wand then set it down on the Professor's desk to a grinning McGonagall. "I'll start simple," he grabbed another feather from a pencil cup. "I've not tried to do so much with Prestidigitation but let's see what it's limits are, though they might be my own, I'm still a beginner." Professor Mcgonagall nodded.
"Sibru Incanterous Prestidigitorious" He said a bit louder than he needed to and focused his magic on the feather. He began changing its color to the black of the clip. He then changed it's color multiple times. He then let go of the feather and let it fly around as he directed it to. Finally, he took it back in his hands. "I am now focusing on the pencil cup holding the feathers." He said to a shocked looking McGonagall, he changed it's color too, and lifted it up a bit to show he could. "Now back to my real test of this spell." He lifted the feather and focused, turning it back to solid black. He focused hard on changing the feather to a clip. All that happened was that it bent itself over, looking like a clip but most decidedly not metal or holding a shape. Harry sighed. "Is that all one spell?" the Professor asked. Harry nodded, "I can do more with it." He created a crude-looking feather in his other hand. "This 'feather' is worthless." He dropped it and it fell much like a feather and shattered upon hitting the floor. "What else can you make?" The Professor sounded more intrigued. Harry made flowers, sparks, a gardeners sheers and one of the ingredients for the boil cure he remembered from Potions. "All of them look like they can do something, but just like the shattered feather, they could mainly just get in someones way. Maybe." He smiled.
The Professor nodded, "So then what spell did you use to knock the centipedes unconscious? That spell does quite a lot for a first year, believe it or not Mr. Potter. But it most definitely could not hurt those monsters if it does as you describe."
"I cast something more commonly known as Color Spray, at best it can leave a creature unconscious, blinded, and stunned for some time, then just blinded and stunned, then just stunned. At worse, it makes a creature stunned for a short period of time. Though the more powerful, the less likely any of this could happen. Neville and I then did the kicking after getting incredibly lucky having the former happen to them."
Professor McGonagall nodded to herself as Harry picked up his wand and pocketed it. "I'd keep this magic to yourself for now Mr. Potter." She said as she gingerly took the conjured items from him and set them carefully down so as not to break them. "In the meantime, Dumbledore and I will discuss this. And I will definitely talk to him about protecting the students better." Harry nodded his thanks, "Thank you Professor." "Can you make it to the dorms for the rest of the free time?" "I should be able to." She smiled at him and went back to her work as he left. Harry smiled, he was still able to practice both Magic and Arts, and his professor had commented on the Arts in a very positive way. As he walked up the stairs, he realized he was lost again, and worse, he heard something near him. Spinning around and expecting the worst, Harry found himself facing a cat. "Oh no." he said out loud in spite of himself, and began running. Mrs. Norris led to Filch, and Filch led to trouble. He found himself outside the only door he could find. He tried it and swore. Locked. Running through his prepared spells, he wished he had kept Prestidigitation for now. "Screw it, let's try this." He muttered to himself, " Sibru Incanterous Acidious!" He aimed the small acid ball at the keyhole. Nothing happened of course, except a Loud noise from the other side and the entire hallway began to shake. Harry swore he could have heard three different large mouths breathing. Not wanting to try anything else, not having PREPARED anything else to open a door and THEN deal with a monster. He settled for running some more and found himself outside Gryffindor tower just as the portrait of the Fat Lady opened up. "Where have you been?" Ron asked, "Tell us on our way to dinner." Harry sighed in exasperation and joined them telling them all about his crazy afternoon.
A/N: Doors according to most DMs I play with have ascending hardness that acts like DR, even a1d3 of 3 (which was rolled) doesn't do anything to even a simple wooden door. The Plot and Dice seem to be colluding against me, but rest assured, we shall have a lot of fun soon enough, Dice be damned! (Next roll is now a guaranteed 1)