Chapter 8 Progress

Professor Russo floated into the room on a hovering chair, which Harry guessed was the magical version of a wheelchair. The old professor made his way to the front of the room and stared everyone in the eyes for several seconds.

"In the last war, my team was dispatched to defend a young family of muggles in August of 1980. A father, a mother and their two daughters, one seven and the other five. When we arrived, the Death Eaters were still in the process of raping the mother and the daughters. The father had just died, stabbed in the stomach and left there to bleed out. The last thing he ever saw was the brutal violation of his wife and children.

"The problem for us was, there was eleven Death Eaters and only four of us Hit-Wizards. We managed to catch them with their pants down, literally, and killed three of them. However, their numbers overwhelmed us. I was hit with an overpowered bone-breaker that shattered the bones in both my legs. As I lay on the ground, trying to do my best to assist, my team was killed in front of my eyes. Jackson, the team leader, caught a piercing hex in his left eye that blew out the back of his head. Adams, our rookie, got hit with a bludgeoner that broke his ribs, which proceeded to puncture his lungs. He lasted for two minutes before he suffocated .

"Wilson tried escaping but they severed his Achilles tendon with a cutting curse and he collapsed. They took Wilson's wand and proceeded to cast the Imperius on the mother and the two daughters. They then proceeded to make the females eat Wilson alive, cum and blood still dripping down their naked thighs. Then when Wilson was dead they took the Imperius off the daughters and had the mother beat her children to death. Once that was done, they took the Imperius off the mother. She went catatonic at everything she had just done and witnessed, even if her mind was not her own, so they left her to suffer in her own mind.

"As for me, the Death Eaters had disarmed me and made me watch everything. Once the show was over they cast a flesh-eating curse at my feet and left me, thinking the curse would work its way up my body until I died. Fortunately for me, or unfortunately, I still haven't decided yet, a reserve team was sent to find out what happened to us and I was saved, though my legs were lost."

Everyone stared at Professor Russo with wide eyes, some people looking sick and a few girls with tears in their eyes. It certainly wasn't what they were expecting the first day of class to be like. However, it showed them what they were up against. The kind of atrocities Death Eaters committed whenever they could.

Harry glanced back at Malfoy, wondering if his father was one of the Death Eaters involved. Draco was the only person in the room who didn't look a little squeamish at the story. Instead a half-crazy grin was on his face and he seemed to be enjoying himself. Something was definitely wrong with Draco Malfoy.

"Potter!"

Harry jumped in his seat and turned back around. The professor was looking at him as if deciding how worthy Harry actually was.

"You got a perfect score on your defense exam, plus a citation for performing magic beyond NEWT level. Do you think I have nothing to teach you?"

Harry had been taught dueling by Sirius, Remus, Moody and Kingsley. He had been taught tactics by Moody, powerful magics by Dumbledore and how to slay dark creatures from James Macnie. He had been the runner up in the Junior European Dueling Tournament and battled Death Eaters, acromantulas, a dragon and a giant. Sirius had taught him to read body language and to fight as part of a team. He had let someone die rather then try to help them. He had spent weeks pouring over the history of Voldemort, to know him as well as the Dark Lord knew himself. Hell he had faced the Dark Lord and gotten away with his life on four separate occasions, something only Dumbledore could top.

At this point in his life, it would seem that there wasn't anything a sixth year Defense Against the Dark Arts class could teach him. However, judging from the story he was just told, that wasn't true. It was obvious the man who stood before him had witnessed some horrors and maybe that was what Harry needed. Someone to give him a first person account of what he would be up against in this war.

"No sir. Even the wisest learn something new everyday."

"Damn straight Potter. Anyone in this room who thinks they know everything they need to know is a bloody fool. Sixth year focuses on the defense of minor Dark Arts, as well as expands upon the repertoire of spells taught to you last year. I'm also going to be teaching you about the last war. The scare tactics and fear You-Know-Who used to cower the United Kingdom wizarding population with barely sixty followers. I can guarantee you, this won't be a fun class."

Harry hummed quietly, so as not to draw the ire of Madam Pince, as he looked over the book on magical gifts. It was a rather fascinating book that, amongst other things, went into the multiple theories of how people inherited the magical abilities they possessed. It was originally thought that all of the magical gifts seen in the wizarding world were evolved throughout years of magical heritage, thus becoming traits passed down from generation to generation of blood relatives, no matter how distant.

That theory appeared to have been proven false in the late 1850's when a muggle-born witch in China was born a metamorphmagus. Numerous test had been run to see if any magical history existed in her bloodline but as far back as they could tell, she had nothing but non-magical ancestors. Eventually, a handful of other muggle-borns popped up with similar situations, if different gifts, throughout the course of time. Still, despite the evidence proving the theory false. It still held firm in many hardcore pureblood circles, who believed those muggle-borns somehow stole their abilities.

While it was true there were family gifts, like the ability to speak parseltongue amongst the Slytherin line, there were more that sprouted randomly amongst magical people. It was hard to keep track of all the family gifts that were out there in the world of pureblood society. The United Kingdom itself had over two dozen. That didn't even include the affinity for certain magics that were passed down; like the Potter's easy grasp of Ancient Runes.

Harry knew of the blackfyre gift Sirius inherited, and that Tonks had some ability to perform. It allowed members of the Black family who inherited the gift to conjure and control a fire of black flames that were almost as strong as dragon fire. It was mostly prominent in males, specifically those from the direct bloodline, but could manifest in various strength amongst other members of the family.

The Greengrass family, when they reached the age of majority at seventeen, inherited the ability to teleport. It was a lot quicker than apparition was, and was instantaneous in the mastery of it. A member of the Greengrass family simply woke up the morning of their seventeenth birthday with the ability.

And while the family gifts were fascinating in themselves to study over, it was the non-genetic traits that truly caught Harry's attention, as someone who inherited several himself. The Potter's didn't have any special magical ability, nor did the Kingston family from his mother's side. The next strongest magical bloodline in him was Gryffindor, and all they had was an affinity to the light magics. None of the other magical bloodlines he found in his family tree manifested any gifts within him.

But that still left a dozen other magical gifts:

Metamorphmagus – Ability to change your physical appearance

Innate healing – Ability for ones body to heal itself with its own magic

Animagus – Ability to change into an animal form

Diviner/Seer – Ability to see into the future

Magi-sight - Ability to see magic in its natural form

Elemental – Ability to control one of the four elements

Empath – Ability to feel and understand the emotions of someone else

Natural necromancy – Ability to perform necro-magic without study

Aura reading – Ability to see someone's magical capabilities as well as moral leanings

Natural occlumens – Ability to organize ones mind and withstand mental intrusions without study

Extrinsic healing – Ability to heal someone without use of spells but rather with ones own magic

He knew that he possessed several of them. The innate healing ability, being the most common of the gifts, was something he was sure he had given his quick recovery from injuries. Inheriting the ability of an Animagus was something he got from his father, and was something not nearly as common. He was also pretty sure he was an elemental. There were four powers that fell under the elements; fire, water, earth and air. Despite his love of flying on a broom, Harry believed he might be a water elemental, although so far in his life nothing had happened that proved him correct in that assessment.

Elementals were one of the rarer gifts, if not as rare as a Seer or the rarest of the rare, a Natural Necromancer. Being an elemental wouldn't give Harry some kind of super power over water though. He wouldn't be able to go to the Black Lake and raise the entire body of water over his head. He would, however, be able to manipulate smaller forms of water, which could prove useful in the war. Of course, he had to be sure he had the gift.

For some people their magical gifts manifested when they were children. Some had to wait until their later teens before anything happened. Some didn't have any at all. The one agreed upon fact though, stated that if you didn't show any signs by the time you were eighteen, you had no gifts.

The gift of elemental magic was more occurring in societies that were more in tune with nature. The Native American wizarding tribes had high cases of elementals amongst their members. Wizarding enclaves in Japan who still practiced a more naturalistic form of Bushido also had a higher number than average. There were also notes about various tribes in Africa with such cases as well.

There were a few noted elementals in United Kingdom society but none of them were able to manipulate water and while the training to master the different elements might be similar in its basic principles, they were vastly different overall.

The first thing he needed to do was confirm his suspicions of his abilities. There were various test that could do such a thing but they all involved potions that were well above his skill. He would need the help of those better in the art then him. If need be he could probably approach Professor Richards, her being an Order member and all, but he would hold off on that.

Justin Finch-Fletchley and Daphne Greengrass were very competent potion students. They ranked number one and number three out of the sixth years. Harry knew Justin was being sought after by a skilled Potions Master from Germany who wished to take the muggle-born on as her apprentice right out of Hogwarts. It said a lot about the young man's skills in the art of brewing that he was only a sixth year and already being sought out.

He would approach them first, to see if they had the ability to make the potions that would be required. The best thing to do would be to test everyone he trained with for any kind of gifts that they might have. Train them in those gifts now, so they could be used efficiently in later dates when the war picked up.

The chair opposite him was pulled out, causing Harry to glance up from the book and his thoughts. Across from him sat Anthony, who he had only seen and conversed with briefly throughout the summer and the start of the school year. The Ravenclaw walked with a cane, the aftermath of his injuries sustained in the Forbidden Forest.

"Hey Anthony," Harry greeted.

"Hey Harry," Anthony returned, as he leaned his cane against his chair and swung his book bag onto the table.

"How are classes going so far?"

Anthony took out his potions textbook and put it on the table before going back to his bag to dig out some parchment and quills. "Pretty good, nothing too complicated yet."

Harry nodded his head. He shifted his attention back to the book. Flipping to the pages that listed the potions necessary for the test, Harry started jotting them down to go search down the books needed to brew them.

"I blamed you."

Harry looked up startled. Instead of delving into his studies, like Harry had expected, Anthony was staring right at him.

"Blamed me?" Harry questioned, a feeling of dread filling his stomach as he had an idea of what Anthony meant with that statement.

"For my injuries. I told myself you were the one who started the training. You were the one who taught me all those spells. You were the one who led me into that forest, asking me to rescue a kid I didn't even know that well until several months ago. You were the reason I now have to walk with a cane the rest of my life. No one but Harry Potter was to blame for the injuries I suffered from."

Harry swallowed heavily. "Anthony, I-"

"Then Terry reminded me you didn't invite me to training, I showed up. You told us we didn't have to go into the forest, but I went. And I'm sorry for blaming you."

"Anthony, it's understandable man. You've been through a lot, I wouldn't hold you blaming me against you at all."

Anthony nodded his head in thanks. He looked down at the work he had in front of him for a moment before looking back up, looking at Harry with a sad look.

"I just feel like I'm not going to be useful anymore. I can't duel, not like you guys can. What use am I going to be in this fight?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders, not having an exact answer. "There are more ways to contribute than just fighting. Healers, potion masters, curse breakers; they are all going to play their part, even if it might not be on the front lines. Find what you're good at and what you're going to want to do for the rest of your life. Go into the field and once that is done, if you want to be involved, find a way."

"Oh Ronnie poo!" Harry cried, bouncing on Ron's bed.

Ron mumbled something Harry couldn't hear and rolled over. The redhead pulled his blanket higher over his head. Harry grabbed Ron's extra pillow and hit him with it.

"Gerroff Harry," Ron muttered.

"I promised you we'd work on your transformation today. Get you into the swing of things. You do want to fully master your animagus transformation don't you?" Harry asked.

Ron turned over and threw the blankets off his face. "Do we have to do it now?"

Harry nodded his head. "Come on sleepy head. I know it's Saturday but you know I'm an early riser. Let's get it out of the way now."

"Fine but I'd like to state I don't like you sometimes Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes and hopped off Ron's bed as the teen slowly got up and began getting ready. The teen had been so excited in his quest to become an animagus. Now that he was properly able to become one, his enthusiasm seemed to have waned a bit. Just because the true form was discovered and could be taken on, didn't mean it was something the redhead still didn't need to work on.

"Still think you should have been a dung beetle," Harry stated, a wide grin on his face.

Ron stopped, a shirt halfway on, and looked at Harry with an amused expression. "You think I should have been a dung beetle?"

"Well I mean, it makes sense," Harry answered, his grin widening.

"Blimey mate, I don't think I would have liked being a dung beetle."

"For the love of god Ron, he's taking the mickey out of you. Now will both of you get the hell out of the room, I'm trying to sleep!" Neville's voice called from his four-poster bed.

"It's 9 am on a Saturday Nev. We're starting training for the year tomorrow, you should start getting used to waking up early again," Harry responded.

"I'll get use to it tomorrow, now shut the bloody hell up."

Harry and Ron stared at each other with raised eyebrows. "Remember when Neville was just a shy little bloke?" Ron reminisced.

Harry nodded his head. "Yeah. Remember when we had to curse him in our first year because he tried preventing us from fighting Voldemort?"

"Oh my god, if you two don't shut up, I'm coming out cursing."

"What happened to our poor little Neville?" Ron asked, shaking his head in mock shame. "He use to be such a good boy."

"That's it!"

Harry gave Ron a shove and they both ran from the room, Ron finishing pulling down his shirt. A spell hit the stone next to the doorway as the two friends ran through it, laughing. They stumbled out into the common room where a few Gryffindors were gathered.

"What are you two up to?" Hermione asked, spotting her best friends and the large grins on their faces.

Harry and Ron moved over to the brunette, where she sat with Parvati and Lavender. Harry noticing that Lavender Brown was definitely checking out Ron and Parvati refused to look at him, still.

"I'm helping Ron access his inner animal better," Harry replied vaguely.

"Oh! Can I come? I would love to see the training for this. Plus, I haven't seen either of your forms yet."

"Sure. Though, as shocking as it might be, Ron isn't a dung beetle."

"I don't have the personality of a dung beetle" Ron wailed, causing everyone in the common room to look at him.

Hermione snorted as Harry gave Ron another shove, this time pushing the taller teen toward the portrait hole. The trio climbed out of the Gryffindor common room and began making their way over to the Room of Requirement.

"Lavender Brown was checking you out," Harry said, nonchalantly.

"Who me?" Ron asked.

"No Hermione. Of course you, you idiot."

"Are you lying to me?"

Harry looked at Ron with a hurt expression. "Would I ever lie to you?"

Ron shot Harry a look. "Remember that time during winter break last year when you gave me a piece of candy and you swore it tasted like bacon? It was actually a prototype Canary Cream. I was a giant canary for three hours. You used my love of bacon against me."

"I was testing Fred and George's product! Didn't want my investment going to waste," Harry stated with a shrug of his shoulders. "Besides, I wouldn't lie about a girl fancying you mate. Would I want you to make a fool of yourself?"

"Yes," Ron deadpanned.

Harry nodded his head in agreement. "Point well taken."

"He's telling the truth Ron. Lavender talks about you in the dorms a lot."

"Hey," Harry exclaimed, "look who decided to join our conversation."

Ron looked thoughtful at Hermione's statement. Harry knew the teen was contemplating if he liked Lavender enough to do anything with her. Harry, who had gotten his lessons from Sirius, figured how would you know exactly how much you liked her, if you didn't try anything first.

They arrived at the Room of Requirement, Harry being the one who walked back and forth in front of the wall three times. The door appeared, Hermione opening it and moving into the room first. The room itself took the form of a small meadow, an artificial sun high in the sky and a warm breeze brushing against their faces.

"Alright Ron," Harry started, turning toward his friend. "The meditating and minor occlumency lessons have been pretty much leading up to this very moment. You've been the animal. You know what its like to be in the skin of a dingo. Remember that feeling. Block out everything but that feeling because everything else isn't important. Let it overtake you."

Harry shifted slowly into his own form, startling Hermione. After a moment, Harry shifted back into his regular self shaking his head. Hermione moved forward to stand next to Harry. Ron had his eyes closed, his face one of concentration.

"Didn't mean to transform," Harry muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

"That's the first time I've seen your form," Hermione stated.

"I try not to advertise it, plus it's still a work in progress. Six months and it still takes me a minute to transform. Sirius said it's all about the practice and in another few months I'll be able to do it as seamlessly as he can."

Suddenly Ron hunched over and began changing into a dingo. It took a few minutes before the transformation was complete but it went off without a hitch. Harry nodded his head in approval, watching as Ron began to run around the meadow the room had provided for them.

"Potter, can I see you for a moment?:

Harry nodded for the others to continue on without him, shifting his bag from one shoulder to the other. Professor Russo was organizing the room back to the way it usually was. For the second class, he had them practice some of the more powerful spells they had learned last year, which required room the normal set up didn't allow.

"Yes professor?" Harry asked, shifting his gaze downward to meet the eyes of the wheelchair bound man.

"When I asked you the other day, if you thought there was nothing I could teach you, were you being honest with your answer?"

Harry moved forward toward his professor, a frown on his face. "Of course sir."

"I have the notes from Bedeau, I saw you at the dueling tournament and I've seen for myself today up close; you don't need sixth year defense classes. You are already beyond anything you could possibly learn this year."

Harry nodded his head slowly. He had come to the same conclusion on his own before the year had started. While hearing from someone with first hand experience about the brutality of the previous war would be unique, the class would more than likely offer him few challenges, if any at all. However, he figured it would be best for him to just keep silent and go along with the program, less any kind of comment on the issue be regarded in the wrong light.

"After my accident, I stayed on as an instructor at the Hit-Wizard training facility. I was there for fourteen years until two years ago when I decided to retire. However, the return of Voldemort and Dumbledore's request brought me quickly out of my retirement.

"I still have a set of the required reading for all Hit-Wizard trainees. I want you to take the set and study from them the best you can. There isn't any point coming to my class. You don't need it and any attention I might pay to you will be wasted for someone who actually needs it."

"Of course professor," Harry murmured.

"Twice a week, I want you to come by my office. I'm going to test the progress you're making. It isn't just going to be spell casting either. I'm sure your godfather told you things Hit-Wizards need to know."

Professor Russo flicked his wand and a stack of five books floated out of the corner of the room and toward Harry. Reaching out, Harry plucked the books from the air, and with a wandless expansion charm, placed them in his book bag.

"You're dismissed Potter."

Harry turned on his heel and took two steps before stopping and turning back.

"Professor Russo, the mother, from the story you told us yesterday. What happened to her?" Harry asked.

Professor Russo regarded him silently for a moment. "They obliviated her, wiping any memory of the events from her mind. However, one doesn't simply get over that kind of extreme mental and emotional distress. She might not have remembered what happened but the damage was already done. She was catatonic and there was no helping her. Not that the Ministry cared. When they saw that the obliviation hadn't changed anything, they dumped her at a muggle hospital and called it a day."

Harry nodded his head before turning and exiting the room.

Amos Diggory hated making floo calls as it was a very uncomfortable feeling having your head sticking out one fireplace while your body was sticking out the other. However, Dumbledore had set upon him an important task. The results of the Hogwarts Express attack hadn't been as bad as they could have been. Still, losing twenty-three men out of an already understaffed law enforcement department was a bad blow.

The Minister did what he could to bolster the numbers. An increase in salary for law enforcement officials and a recruiting drive amongst the United Kingdom dueling circuits had brought in half a dozen young wizards, most of whom were shifted toward the Auxiliaries but one had been skilled enough to be accepted into Hit-Wizard training.

Still it wasn't enough. More bodies were going to be needed. Voldemort might be gone but there were still a lot of skilled Death Eaters left behind to cause chaos. That is why Amos found himself in his current situation.

"You are aware that though our countries may be the staunchest of allies in the muggle world, that is not true in the magical world. The bigotry that has run rampant throughout your government is frowned upon by this nation."

Diggory nodded his head. The president of the Magical Republic of the United States was a tall and lanky man who carried himself with a sense of power, grace and nobility that came from years of being a pureblood lord. Yet, the man was a muggle-born of only sixty years of age. His black hair was flecked with gray but few wrinkles sat upon his face. He wore a muggle suit underneath an open robe, a reminder that the magical society of the United States was much more accepting of its muggle counterparts. Francis John Adams may have been the first wizard in his family but he wasn't the first to be president of the United States, as two of his ancestors were previously presidents on the muggle side.

"I am aware of the faults of my government. However, let us not forget the laws recently passed by your government and its restrictions on goblins and the centaur tribes that are much more harsh than my country's laws toward them. It appears to be a case of the kettle calling the pot black, as the muggle saying goes."

President Adams frowned heavily, folding his arms across his chest. While relations between the United States and the United Kingdom might have become friendly over the years in the muggle world, relations were still tense in the magical one. Which is why the request Dumbledore had asked of him made it all the harder.

"I do not know if you follow the news of countries other than your own but we've been dealing with a situation on our southern borders by Mexican drug lords trying to push their goods into the local communities. The Alamo School of Sorcery had eleven cases of students overdosing on Billy's Hex this month, when they've had two cases in the past six years combined. The Phoenix School for Gifted Magics reported it's first two cases n their history. Hired thugs are terrorizing the small communities and have even been encroaching upon the lands of the Wizarding American tribes as well. There is a large movement of law enforcement officials down there to track down these suppliers and their hired muscle before things get out of control. I have over half my Battle M11ages down there."

Amos knew that Billy's Hex was slang for a cocktail that's main ingredient was powdered billywig horn, which gave the consumer a feeling of extreme giddiness. He also knew that the cocktail was supposed to be extremely addictive and, when taking in large amounts, deadly. However, it was news he had already known. There was no way he would go into such an important meeting unprepared.

"I am aware of this fact. I am also aware of the fact that the Magical Republic of the United States has the largest law enforcement agency in the magical world, and that twenty percent of your budget is dedicated to your defense and security department, the largest percentage in the world. Now are you aware of the fact that after a series of attacks a week ago the Department of Magical Law Enforcement of the United Kingdom Ministry of Magic is currently operating at half its usual man-power, and is actually only at thirty-three percent full war capacity? Do you know that the terrorist organization called the Death Eaters have been confirmed in numerous reports to number well over one hundred strong, as well as having the backing of well-known terrorist Fenrir Greyback and his clan of werewolves?"

President Adams stopped himself from sighing. His country had been keeping an eye on the situation in the Unite Kingdom. There had been an increase in muggle-born immigrants from Britain in the 1970's, which led to his predecessors finding out exactly what was going on across the pond during that time span. Now that this You-Know-Who was back, he had made sure to have agents positioned in the United Kingdom to keep him up to date. His biggest fear was the spreading of Voldemort and his pureblood followers and ideals. Last thing he needed was for those kind of people and that way of thinking to make its way into his society.

"I can give you four teams of Sentinels. Sentinels consist of teams of five. While they'll answer to your chain of command I prefer you keep them in their own units rather then split them up. They should be similar enough to your Hit-Wizards where they can fulfill the same duties."

"I appreciate the aid," Diggory stated. The twenty men would go a long way to assisting the United Kingdom in battling its Death Eaters.

However, Diggory's mind was on something else. Battle Mages were an elite fighting force under the control of the Magical Republic of the United States. What if the United Kingdom had a similar unit? An elite fighting force that could handle even the Inner Circle of Death Eaters?

"Is there anything else you wish to discuss Minister Diggory?"

"No there is not. You have the United Kingdom's thanks President Adams. Although our governments have been far apart in their ideas, I hope to bridge the gap that separates us and maybe we can became as close of allies as our muggle counterparts."

"Time will tell," Adams answered neutrally.

Diggory nodded his head before withdrawing it from the fire. With his entire body back in his office at the Ministry he began to plot as he absentmindedly sent Dumbledore a memo with the news. An elite force under control of the Ministry. Fighters like Black, Anwell and Kingsley were some of their best fighters but did he dare take them from his current positions into one elite force? There was also the issue of getting the approval of Madam Bones to take away some of her best fighters, crippling an already over worked Law Enforcement Department that couldn't afford the loses right now, even if it was to help them in the long run.

Besides they needed new blood in the fight. Fresh faces who would be able to help tip the scales in the Ministry's favor. He thought of what Potter and his friends had managed to do in the Forbidden Forest several months ago. Avoiding Ministry personnel and taking on Death Eaters. That was the kind of new blood he was looking for.

"That's it!" Diggory muttered. He pressed the intercom on his desk. "Cindy, can you please get Amelia down here? I have some important business to discuss with her."

Justin and Daphne looked over the list of potions Harry had written down. There was five potions that needed to be brewed, in bulk. Enough for thirty students to have one goblet of each potion.

The two whispered to themselves as they looked over the list and the brewing process for each one. They were complicated brews. Beyond anything taught in Hogwarts. Some of the ingredients would need to be ordered from a apothecary. Either that or stolen from Snape's personal stores, which had been under lock and key since Harry had put the professor in a coma.

"Can you two brew them?" Harry asked, his eyebrow raised.

"Of course," Daphne answered.

"While difficult, they aren't harder than any of the potions Daphne and I brew in our spare time," Justin put in.

Harry stifled the involuntary shudder his body went to make at the thought of brewing potions outside of class. Merlin's beard that sounded like a terrible time. Why would anyone willingly volunteer to do such a thing?

Daphne didn't seem to notice his internal struggle, and continued. "They just require a lot of time and some rather pricey ingredients. We're looking at a full twenty-three hours straight in the lab and a good fifty galleons for enough of each ingredient to make the amount you requested."

Harry nodded his head. He figured it would be a pretty knut. "Money isn't an issue. I can get the ingredients here in a few days. It's just up to you guys on whether or not you will be able and willing to donate the time necessary to see the brewing process to fruition."

Again the two started to whisper between themselves, leaving Harry to shift his eyes toward a spot on the wall to give them some semblance of privacy. He was counting on them saying yet. He didn't think he'd be able to easily convince Professor Richards to brew the potion on her own time.

"On one condition."

Harry shifted his gaze back to the two gifted potions students. He was curious as to what the wanted of him.

"You have to do my defense homework for the weekend in question, as well as an assignment at a later date which I will notify you of" Daphne stated.

"Same for me but with Charms," Justin added.

Harry thought it over briefly. He knew the classes specified were the weakest for both of them. They both happened to be classes Harry excelled at. An extra few hours of homework were worth it though.

"You guys have yourselves a deal," Harry stated, holding out his hand.

First Justin and then Daphne shook on it. Satisfied, Harry gave them both a smile. He was excited to see what magical abilities lay within him that he had yet to realize. He was also excited to see what kind of gifts all of his friends might have as well. He had spent time in his own thoughts, trying to pick and choose which gift each of his friends might possess.

"I'll procure one of the spare rooms in the dungeons. Something out of the way. Everything you are going to need to make the potions will be available to you. Does this weekend coming up work or would you prefer to delay it?"

"This weekend," Daphne stated. "Best to get it over with."

"We'll write down everything we're going to need. There are some things that aren't listed in the recipe that will help us out."

Harry nodded his head. "Sounds like a plan. Give me the list when you're done."