Chapter 14

An Exchange

A/N: Thank you to everyone who's been reading. Again, I'll clarify that I don't own Harry Potter and I don't make money from this.

The next couple of chapters have scenes that I've been waiting to write since I started this story, so I hope you enjoy them as much as I do. If you like this, please review. It really is a great motivator for me to post quickly. That being said, the response to this story has been great! Thank you all so much.

NathanHale2: Thank you for the compliment. And no, I haven't watched House of Cards. My roommate and I were looking for something to binge watch on Netflix while we did some advertising work, but while watching the first episode found that it required too much attention to watch while working on something else. I might pick it up soon if I've got some time.

RagingCassowary: Thank you so much. Reviews like this make me want to keep going as quick as I can. I'm glad you're enjoying this story. As for the Wheel of Time books, I'll have to consider it for my next series to read : ).

Harry sat alone in Transfiguration class listening to Professor McGonagall lecture them on how a link between items is necessary for transfiguration.

"When it comes to transfiguration, the less similar the starting object is to the ending object the more difficult the transfiguration will be. For example, turning a toothpick into a needle would be simple, but turning a needle into a candle would be significantly harder. The ability to change the nature of something with magic relies on the caster understanding what must be changed." She turned to a wooden footstool that sat at the front of the classroom. "Transverto." She said slowly and pointed her wand to the stool.

A red jet of light shot from her wand and hit the stool. Its wooden legs began to bend and grow, changing shape until a large wooden chair sat behind Professor McGonagall. The students clapped cheerily at the display and McGonagall held up a hand for quiet.

"Now, who can tell me why this spell was not the most difficult of its kind?"

Hermione's hand instantly shot up, as always. "Yes, Ms. Granger." McGonagall acknowledged.

"The spell you cast was significantly easier than most transfiguration spells because you didn't change the substance of the transfigured object; only its shape and size."

"That is correct." McGonagall said with a nod. "Ten points to Gryffindor. Now, this transfiguration, while quite difficult in its own right, was much simpler than it would have been if I had attempted to transfigure the wooden stool into a padded recliner. This is because changing wood to anything other than wood is much harder than simply shifting wood in form. I will also mention that transfiguration takes a large amount of energy to perform. Many beginners in Transfiguration find that when they first successfully complete a transfiguration they become exhausted." She smiled down at her classroom.

"Now that we have covered all of the theory of Transfiguration, we will begin practical application. Today's task is to transfigure one of these matchsticks into a needle. Pass them back." She gave the front student in each row a handful of matchsticks to pass back to the rest of their classmates. "As you know, the spell's wording is Transverto, accompanied by a smooth circular motion with the wand. I wish you all the best of luck, and the first student to succeed at today's transfiguration will receive a small prize." She shot them a small smirk and took a seat at her desk, setting herself to grading the homework of some other class.

Harry waited for several long moments before he received a matchstick from the dark-haired boy in front of him. The boy turned and looked at Harry and his hand froze momentarily, Harry realized it was the boy who he had tripped into in the Great Hall, the one who had told Harry he didn't need to know his name. There was a moment of awkwardness as the pair stared at each other before the dark-haired boy threw Harry's matchstick to the ground and chuckled.

Harry retrieved it soundlessly. He almost found it humorous when people thought things like that would get under his skin. He sat stoically as he briefly remembered a younger Dudley throwing finger-sized rocks at his head for sport. He snapped to attention a moment later as his fellow students all began a clamoring chorus of transfiguration spells. Harry placed the matchstick in front of him on his desk and pointed his wand toward it.

"Transverto." He said softly. After a moment, Harry realized that nothing had happened. He tried again. "Transverto." Again, nothing. Harry focused on the somewhat similar shape shared between a needle and a matchstick and pointed again. "Transverto!" He said more loudly. He stared at the matchstick. Did it maybe have a more circular shaft than before? A slightly pointed end? Harry slumped in his chair. This was going to take some work.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Harry and his fellow Gryffindor first years departed Professor McGonagall's classroom with a general feeling of distaste. None of them had managed the transfiguration. After weeks of studying the theory of spellworking and transfiguration, the closest anyone had gotten was Hermione Granger's removal of the head of her match. And even this was met with an overflow of approval from McGonagall. She had held Hermione's matchstick up and told the whole class how she hadn't seen that much progress from a student on the first day in years while Hermione grinned proudly.

Needless to say, some of the other students were less than pleased. Harry heard Ron speaking about it as they entered the hallway. "How does she always do the best?" He said to Seamus. "I've been doing the homework and studying and I couldn't get a single thing to change." Harry saw that the redhead looked slightly dejected and felt a moment of pity for him departing down a separate corner as he heard Seamus respond. "At least you didn't ignite three matchsticks in a row while trying."

Harry moved quickly through his daily schedule, half-jogging to the Great Hall, sitting separately from the other first years, and even eating his food in somewhat of a rush. He felt full of some sort of nervous energy, though he had no reason for it.

Harry sat on the bench at the Gryffindor table bouncing his leg when a small tawny owl swooped over his head, dropping a letter with his name on it into his lap. Harry knew instantly from the handwriting that Tonks had written it. He tore open the envelope with joy and immediately dove into its contents.

Dear Harry,

You haven't written me about your classes like you said you were going to, so I figured I'd start myself. How have you been? Are you enjoying your time at Hogwarts? My parents and I have missed having you around. My mom hasn't stopped talking about the night you forced us to let you cook a pot roast since you left. She says she wants your recipe.

As for me, I've been doing well. I'm in the final stage of Auror training now. I've already technically passed all training necessary for the task force, but I decided to push myself and try to become a Watcher instead. I know it's more dangerous, but I feel like I'll actually be doing good there. Unfortunately we've discovered that you can't cure clumsy, so I've been having to take extra stealth courses. If I pass, I'll be getting officially instated at the beginning of next year. If you'd like, I'll try and drop by over Christmas break to see you before my schedule gets too hectic.

Tonks

Harry smiled as he read the letter. Tonks wanted to come by over Christmas? He would love that. And she was going to be a Watcher! Harry remembered her talking over the decision with her parents when he had been staying with them. The Watcher Program took only the best of those who passed through Auror training. Their proficiency was well-known worldwide and they would be dispatched for only the most important of situations. Unfortunately, most important also often meant most dangerous. Still, Harry was glad that she was happy.

He reread the letter. Something about the familiarity with which Tonks spoke to him made him ache inside. He felt… uneasy. Like something could go wrong at any moment. He didn't know where the feeling came from. He had loved being around Ted and Andromeda; and Tonks herself was amazing. But Harry couldn't help but feel that they didn't care for him the same way he cared for them. When he thought about them he felt unnecessary, burdensome. He knew in his heart that most of their seeming liking for him had to be based in politeness rather than affection. No one could really care for him.

Harry finished his cup of pumpkin juice and looked down at his watch. Realizing he had only a few minutes to get to Charms class, Harry gathered his things up in a rush and jogged out of the Great Hall.

By the time he arrived at the entrance to the Charms classroom, Harry was panting. He strode into the back of the room and looked around desperately for a seat. Today the Gryffindors were sharing class with the Slytherins, a somewhat hostile notion to many students due to the strong rivalry between the houses, but particularly so to Harry because of Draco Malfoy's constant nattering. In the end, Harry saw only one seat available in the semi-large classroom. Harry began to make his way toward it until he realized that it was directly next to one Ronald Weasley. Harry would rather avoid the awkwardness that he was sure would arise, but there was nothing for it. It was the only seat left.

If Harry had learned anything from the Dursleys, it was that resisting something you couldn't escape was useless. He set his books down and sat next to Ron.

"Hello, Harry." Ron said quietly while Professor Flitwick prepared the last few items necessary for today's lesson.

Harry was surprised. "Hello, Ron."

Ron nodded as if some sort of agreement had been made between the two. "Are you nervous for the Quidditch game this weekend?"

Harry nodded. "A little. Wood's been great at teaching me what I don't know, but it'll be my first time competing against an actual seeker."

"Don't worry about it mate." Ron said reassuringly. "There has to be a reason you made the Quidditch team so young." He smirked.

Harry felt an enormous weight fall off of his shoulders. Ron's attitude in regards to Harry seemed to have entirely reversed without reason, but Harry wasn't arguing; he was due some good luck.

Calling the class to attention, Professor Flitwick began instructing the students in the use of the Propulsion Charm. It was, simply put, a spell that caused whatever object it was cast on to move in the opposite direction of the caster. Flitwick brandished his wand and pointed at an empty chair that sat across the classroom. "Propus." He commanded loudly.

The chair slowly began to slide across the room, picking up speed until it dashed itself against the stone wall and tipped over to the floor. The classroom erupted in clapping and cheering at the display. Flitwick then began to speak. "The Propus charm is highly effective in certain circumstances." He said slowly.

"It can be used as a tool: to help move a heavy object or apply pressure to something that is physically unreachable. It can be an effective defensive or offensive spell, casting it successfully on an attacker can have varying effects from knocking them off their center of gravity to throwing them bodily across a room. This variety is controlled by the amount of power put into the spell. Finally, I arrive at the point of this speech." The short man smiled softly.

"Everyone in this room has a magical core, a concept that I'm sure has been touched on by several of your other teachers, at least in passing, but I would like to add in my own wisdom on the subject. There are several rules that must be remembered if one ever hopes to be a skilled spellcaster, especially when they are challenged without preparation. These are the rules that were hammered into me back in my days as a successful duelist."

"First, you must all learn to know your limits. If you try to power a spell without adequate energy in your magical core, you will find yourself incapable, your spell will be weak and it will perform poorly, if at all."

"He should get on with it already." Ron whispered over to Harry, clearly excited at the prospect of learning such a useful spell. Harry halted only a moment from writing down the basics of what Flitwick was saying. He had never copied teachers word-for-word, but he found that Flitwick often had much to say of practical magic and tips for surviving in wizarding fights. This, to Harry, seemed valuable information. He would do anything to make himself less vulnerable, safer. And so, he willingly copied down Flitwick's lessons; if not perfectly, at least he would have the main ideas.

"Don't you want to remember this?" Harry asked, honestly bewildered. "This could be quite useful if you had to fight someone with magic someday. Might even save your life."

Ron gave Harry a strange look and spoke. "You're right. Guess I need to look at these lessons as more than homework. I might need it someday." Harry was shocked. Ron had listened to him. There was no anger or criticism. He watched as the redheaded boy began taking notes of his own on a piece of parchment. He was quickly pulled back to Professor Flitwick's lecture, though, and refocused himself on note-taking.

"The second rule of the spellcaster is to always know how much energy you need. If I had wanted to, I could have taken that chair and dashed it to pieces against that wall while barely emptying my magical core. In fact, I'm sure that even some of you would be capable of the task of breaking it. Even though that was perfectly within my power, I restrained myself because I didn't want to waste energy." He gave a long look through the classroom before speaking once more.

"The last rule of a duelist, is that you must be able to cast your spells quickly, without any hesitation for preparation or technicality. This does not mean you simply fire off the first spell that comes to your mind, but that you know which spell was useful. A man I once dueled attempted to transfigure his cloak into a lightweight metal that would deflect my spells. It was a brilliant thought, but he had never attempted this type of transfiguration spell. As such it took him too much time to prepare and I was able to subdue him before he had ever cast the spell. What is the practical lesson of this story?"

Again, Hermione's hand shot straight into the air. "If you haven't practiced a spell enough before you need it, you won't be able to perform it properly when you do need it." She said with a satisfied smirk.

"Yes, yes!" The teacher laughed delightedly. "Ten points to Gryffindor. Now," Their teacher's laughter faded and his voice returned to the loud, clear tone that professional speakers used daily. "I'm sure that some of you are only interested in learning this spell for some prank or a bit of laziness when moving heavy things about. I also know that some of you will forget this entire lecture on the rules of spellcasting, but for those of you who wish to truly be great, these rules will be vital. Remember them!" With that he stepped down and began taking pairs of students over to the far side of the room in pairs.

"Why does she have to do that?" Ron asked. "First in Transfiguration, now here. Little know-it-all, always having to show off." He said with more than a hint of jealousy.

"Lay off her, Ron." Harry said, suddenly angry. "You don't know what she's been going through."

"Of course I don't." Ron huffed. "Any time anyone tries to talk to her she's mean as a goblin. Shouldn't be a surprise no one knows her."

Harry shook his head lightly. "Don't be too hard on her. She's had problems here. I'll explain later." Harry was surprised at himself. He would explain later? That implied that he believed Ron would continue to be friendly to him. Everything in his past experience seemed to defy that, but for some reason Harry still held to hope.

Flitwick came to Harry and Ron next, gathering them up and taking them to where their practical learning would take place. The students that had already begun were each standing on opposite ends of a wooden crate that sat on a wheeled dolly. They were casting the spell onto the crate one after the other, causing it to slide perpetually back and forth between the students.

Flitwick led Harry and Ron to one of the unused crates and looked at the two briefly. "As you can see," He began. "All of the students are taking turns casting the Propus charm on the box. As you do this, it will slide closer to your partner. You must be careful though. Too much energy will cause the box to crash into your partner. Too little force will cause it to stay on your side, meaning your partner could easily overpower it. Once you get the hang of how much power to put into the spell, you may begin to speed up and try to work on your speed in casting." Flitwick then dipped his head and went to summon the next pair of students.

Ron went over to stand close to the wall of the classroom, leaving Harry to stand closer to the center of the room. The already-practicing first-years stood in rows off to Harry's right. Most of them were still taking turns and slowly casting, which allowed the box to come to rest before their partner's spell hit it. However, some of the students were casting the spell more quickly and more powerfully, causing the box to stop only a few feet from one student before it rebounded back to the other. Surprisingly, one of these pairs was Neville and Seamus. Harry was shocked that the professor had allowed those two together, given that Neville was known to be a somewhat unreliable and inaccurate caster and Seamus had a propensity to make things explode accidentally. They were however, seeming to do quite well on this reflex-driven exercise.

After they had lined up with one another, Harry and Ron stared awkwardly for a moment before beginning. Finally, Harry pointed his wand at the box. "Propus." He said shakily. He only used a small amount of magic and the box barely moved toward Ron. Ron looked at Harry, somewhat surprised.

"Must be harder than it looks." He said slowly. "Propus!" He shouted. The box rocketed toward Harry who dove wildly out of its path so he wouldn't be crushed. The box slid almost halfway through the classroom, coming to a stop near where Flitwick was retrieving his next pair, Malfoy and a large boy named Vincent Crabbe. The latter reminded Harry of Dudley with his size and bullying manner. He remembered the boy purposefully shouldering him, nearly knocking him over in one of Hogwarts' many hallways.

The short professor smiled at Ron and Harry's crate and waved his wand to return it to them while several students gawked at the redhead. Harry looked at Ron with disbelief. "What was that?" He yelled over.

"I don't know. I must've put too much into it. I saw you try it and assumed it was hard, so I tried to put as much energy into the spell as I could. Guess it worked." He grinned as he said this. Several people still stared his way as Harry and he began their practice again. This time both Harry and Ron became more balanced, and soon the box was sliding back and forth between them smoothly.

Several rows over, Crabbe and Malfoy were having a much easier time of the practice than Harry would've hoped. In fact, they seemed to be trying to move as fast as they could, casting the box back and forward quicker and quicker, seeing who could recast the spell faster and who would eventually have to jump out of the way.

Harry did not want to be outdone and called to Ron, "If they can do it. We can too!" He said, pointing to the two Slytherins. Ron nodded and the two began speeding up as well. Harry noticed that as they sped up the spell, it became harder and harder to cast, not only due to reaction time, but also because as they sped up their spells they had to work against the energy of their partner's casting. Harry found that he could feel the drain on his magical core much more significantly this way.

They continued this for a couple minutes before they noticed that Malfoy and Crabbe had slowed to a more normal pace, though still keeping up with any other pair in the room. Harry, though he wouldn't have admitted it, was relieved that they could slow down. The quick casting pace was startlingly difficult to maintain and Harry could see the strain in Ron's eyes as well. As they returned to a more comfortable rhythm, Harry's eyes wandered to the left end of the room. Hermione had been paired with the Gryffindor boy; Dark Hair, as Harry labelled him internally.

Hermione pushed the box toward Dark Hair with her magic, but he didn't react. Instead, he waved to Professor Flitwick and, after a short conversation, departed the classroom. Hermione watched as he departed, then turned her back on her classmates, holding herself tightly. Harry looked to Ron, he seemed to have noticed Harry's look and was looking toward Hermione as well. His next spell barely pushed the box halfway to Harry. Harry met Ron's eyes and nodded his head toward the bushy-haired witch.

Harry began walking toward the witch and was pleased to see Ron follow. He had just passed behind Crabbe and was approaching Hermione, who it seemed hadn't noticed him. Suddenly, Harry felt a very strong force throw him to the ground where he smashed the side of his head against the cold stone floor and lay still for a moment.

"Oi!" He heard Ron cry out. "What the hell was that!?"

"I guess I just missed the crate." Malfoy responded. Harry rolled to his back and reached up to touch his head. His fingers met with the familiar warm, wet texture of blood.

"That was on purpose and you know it!" Ron yelled.

"Boys!" Professor Flitwick interrupted. "What has happened here?" He rushed to Harry, who was attempting to stand. "Settle yourself Harry, don't know how bad that is."

Harry shook his head and several droplets of blood fell. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

Ron looked at Harry incredulously. "Mate! Your face has blood all over it!" He turned back to Malfoy, face crimson with anger. Harry suddenly realized that all movement in the classroom had stopped and all of their fellow students were staring at the scene developing. Harry looked to Hermione and saw that she was staring at him. Her eyes were watery and she held her hand over her mouth. Harry wasn't sure if it was because of him or because of the mistreatment by Dark Hair.

Harry began to feel a bit dizzy. He probably had a concussion. He leaned against a stone pillar that sat a few feet away. "I should hex you into next year!" Ron yelled pointing his wand at Malfoy.

"Ha! I'd like to see you try!" Malfoy called back. "You couldn't beat me if I had my wand hand tied behind my back!"

"Boys!" Flitwick called, attempting to calm the dispute.

"Propus!" Ron yelled, ignoring the short wizard. Malfoy responded with his own copy of the charm and the spells crashed into each other. The spells dissipated in the air as they collided. Ron's face held a moment of shock before raising his wand to cast the spell again.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Professor Flitwick called out. Harry was astonished to see that the short man cast the spell twice in one wand flick. Both Malfoy and Ron were struck dead on by the spell and their bodies froze in their current position. The short professor was fuming. He looked menacing. Harry, rather than being worried, felt only happiness and slight surprise that Ron had quite literally leapt to his defense. Harry's vision was slightly blurry. Maybe his concussion was a bit worse than he had thought. He slumped to a sitting position against the pillar.

"One thing that must be learned by any spellcaster is to control one's temper." Professor Flitwick said slowly. "Twenty points from both of you for utter foolishness. Now, tell me what happened." Flitwick waved his wand and the two students' bodies were released. Both of them looked somewhat startled.

"Well, you see—" Ron began.

"I was just—." Malfoy said.

"One at a time." Flitwick said, gesturing at Malfoy.

"I was trying to practice the spell, but I missed and hit Harry instead. I'm really sorry, honestly." Malfoy gave a convincing sorrowful expression. Flitwick's eyes shifted to Ron.

"And you?" he asked.

"I watched Malfoy aim his wand straight at Harry!" He nearly shouted. "He's a little git and everyone here knows—"

"That will be enough." Flitwick said. "I shall not having you insult a fellow stu—" He stopped as Harry slumped to the side and his vision started to go black. "Dear Lord," Flitwick intoned. "Worse than I thought." He said as Harry lost consciousness.

A/N: Chapter 14 ends on a bit of a cliffhanger. Thank you all for reading and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Seems like I put a lot of stuff into this one to me, but I'm not sure. If you enjoyed this, please review. If not, review anyway! I love hearing your opinions and it helps me stay focused on getting another chapter out. The next chapter should be up this weekend.

Where were you when I was inside my own walls?