Chapter 25:

Leadup to the Full Moon

The rest of Harry's week went similarly to his Monday, though with each day having increasingly less pain associated with it. Having two classes per day instead of the usual four had its benefits and having that class in the morning meant he only had to suffer a few hours without his painkillers before downing his prescription potions, and yet he abstained a bit more than that in favor of making himself busy. This was partly because he felt guilty for having such a light workload, made even lighter by his policy of not assigning homework for the sake of assigning homework.

Tuesday afternoon he visited each common room, using the faculty password that worked for all of them, and posted flyers asking for volunteers to work at his nonprofit. It had the obvious rules that any volunteers must be of age and that they would receive extra credit for it, though he left out which classes as he hadn't discussed the topic with his coworkers yet, and hands-on experience as a medi-witch/wizard caring for werewolves. That afternoon at lunch Snape beat him to the punch.

"I amended your flyer in the dungeons to include an extra credit in potions." He informed Harry. "Lily informed me that she would demonstrate the preparation, creation and administration of the wolfsbane potion to all volunteers."

Hm. He'd have to make sure to amend the other flyers with such when the opportunity arose.

"What's this about extra credit?" Remus asked.

"I'm inviting of-age students to volunteer on the full moon this Friday to get hands on training on how to care for werewolves." Harry explained. "And I'm bribing them with extra credit."

"Ah. Well, you can add defense against the dark arts to that. So that's two whole extra credits to sweeten the deal." Remus instructed.

Good man. And so, after lunch Harry again visited each common room and amended the flyers appropriately, before retreating to his office, putting up a sign declaring study hall canceled and downing his potion. He was hoping that if he timed it right the last dregs of the potion's effects would last until just before his Wednesday morning. Turned out, he had timed it perfectly!

His class with the fourth years started just as his pain started to return but with enough leftover dulling from the potion to keep him chipper and energetic for the whole thing. After class let out and it had completely worn off he was feeling significantly recovered. Enough so that he felt confident in his ability to reopen study hall that evening, only to then be invited to Remus's afternoon class.

Who was he to deny the man?

It turned out Remus had decided to focus his lessons that week on Werewolves, and not just on identifying or defending against them. He was giving lectures on life as a werewolf. Not so much the "woe is me, some people don't like me because of it" but more of the biological realities, how he mixed prescription medicine and potions, along with what precautions he took to protect others. The rest of the class was on the precautions any student of defense against the dak arts ought to take to protect themselves and avoid confrontations with werewolves. Most techniques amounted to sensory overload. An overpowered Lumos Solemn, or a handy stink bomb spell Remus demonstrated to the class and that Harry couldn't believe he hadn't learned before. Harry sat in on one expecting it to be an enlightening and heartfelt lecture. He came out feeling more like a teen who had just sat in on the std portion of sex ed class with how clinical Remus described every last detail of life as a werewolf.

Meanwhile the applications for asylum just kept flooding in now that Fred, George and Xenophilius were advertising it. He spent most of his afternoons for that week reading and responding to these letters. He didn't receive more requests than his facilities could handle, but he did receive more than he was eager to handle for the first trial one. As such, his response to each amounted to "Only come if you absolutely must, if you have exactly zero other options. There are limited beds, and we want to make sure those most in need get them."

Still, none of this was bad news. Hell, he even got around to asking Dumbledore if he could borrow the man's pensieve for his classes next week, and the man just said yes. No questions about why he needed it. The man didn't even meet his eyes. It was a strange encounter to be sure, and it wasn't until Harry got back to his classroom for his study hall that he realized why Albus was acting like a kicked puppy.

He knew about Harry's identity as a "Time Traveler" and, by extension, knew how Harry had slightly cheated in order to get this job. Although from the assumption going around that he was from their future the cheating Dumbledore suspected was far greater than what Harry actually committed, but he preferred to keep up the charade for now.

Still, he wished Albus would act angry, not so... disappointed. If the man was faking disappointment to twist the knife into Harry it was rather cruel, but it was effective.

The day of the full moon finally arrived, and he decided to start his Friday with a walk around the grounds.

He had finished the last of his prescription pain killer the night before and his arm had healed enough that he no longer needed a sling for it. Couldn't go getting into boxing matches with it anytime soon, and he was still favoring it, but as far as his appearance went, he was good as new!

Unfortunately his morning plans were put on the backburner when he encountered a strange pair on his way down the fourth floor.

"Sir Nicholas? Baron?" Harry said in surprise.

"Good morning to you as well, Professor Morrigan." The Bloody Baron greeted with a bow as Nearly Headless Nick tipped his head.

"I'm surprised to see you two together, considering the animosity between your houses." Harry barreled forward.

"Such animosity is a very new phenomena, especially to us." Said Nick. "Gryffindors and Slytherins have been on the best of terms since Hogwarts' founding until just a century ago, with a few periods of rivalry brought on by the politics of the wider world, but that is true for each house."

Harry nodded, the Sorting Hat's song still fresh in his mind.

"But on this morning we are companions in work. Off to teach a new generation together." The Bloody Baron explained. "Would you care to join us?"

His curiosity sufficiently piqued, Harry agreed readily and followed the two ghosts down to the entrance hall and through the front doors. They lead him all the way to an area of the forbidden forest near Hagrid's hut, where Harry had once learned about hippogriffs and Draco once learned what happens when you insult a hippogriff. A large area of woods with newer trees overgrowing stone walls and strategically placed boulders and just a few rocky stables long in disuse. Today it was filled to the brim with students dressed in house-colored armors like that worn for Quidditch. They were chatting amicably.

Spread out on bleachers and benches were training weapons. Spears, sabers, and even jousts, each with dulled points and edges.

"Oh hey! The cripple's got his arm back!" Ron called from where he sat loitering.

"All the better for smacking students around with practice claymores." Harry joked back. "But on a serious note, I'm not sure what's going on here."

It was then that a rather disheveled Madame Hooch arrived, or more likely returned, with a large basket of throwing axes and javelins.

"Oh great! You're here. Gaze upon this hellish landscape and see the fruit of your labors!" She said sardonically. "Now I have a good dozen new clubs to form and oversee. Fencing, knife and axe throwing, polearm, longsword, sword and shield, jousting, rowing, sailing, javelin, and... what am I forgetting?"

"Horseback riding and falconry?" Lavander Brown offered helpfully.

Harry did the math in his head and the sixty or so students weren't enough to form five-member groups for each club. Must be a whole lot of overlap of members. So far it looked like interhouse unity was well on its way.

"The headless hunt will be here shortly for the horseback riding and jousting." Sir Nicholas told Hooch. "I can teach longsword and the good Barron is an excellent fencer."

"Good. Now if only we could find people to help with the rest of these!"

"I'm guessing today is going to be a massive safety lesson and organizational meetup?" Harry asked rhetorically.

Indeed, it was. And Harry sat there diligently as Hooch and the ghosts drilled each and every student on safety protocols and forced them to individually demonstrate the proper technique they had themselves just demonstrated for them. Soon enough house-elves were delivering breakfast and informing them that it was time for them all to make their way to class, and so they all scrambled.

"Oh, and you can probably grab the ninja ghost for the knife and axe throwing club." Harry said.

"There's a ninja ghost?" Blaise asked. "I've never seen a ninja ghost."

"Just goes to show he's good at his job. Go find him, so he can help out." Harry ordered.

As the last of the children left Nick leaned to whisper to the leader of the headless hunt.

"Am I going crazy, is there actually a ninja ghost?" He asked.

"No." The Baron answered with an unamused look at Harry for his prank. "No there is not."

His Friday class went exactly the same as every other class that week and as soon as it let out he dismissed the students and put up a do not disturb sign, along with a notice that study hall was, once again, cancelled.

With that job out of the way and a few hours to burn before he had to make his way to the Shrieking Shack he decided to tackle an issue that had been on his mind all week. Himself.

With painkillers coursing through his veins and the mental impairment that brought he dared not meditate on recent going-ons until now. But now he had the time and the mental faculties to tackle the demon that had haunted him. The demon he had come to call Gillie Dhu. He had first reared his ugly head a week ago, after meeting his parents and the extended Marauder family, whole and happy. At the time he had thought it was his own confusion and unconquered feelings that lead to his uncontrollable burst of power that night. He knew better know.

Those four would-be assassins were nothing. He seriously could not comprehend how he let that situation get so out of control. Unless he wasn't in control of himself. And with hindsight he realized he wasn't. Their emotions, their magic, it filled the space around them and came to life, as it always does. And his extrasensory abilities? They picked up on them and filled his very being with the sum of their parts, compounding his own adrenaline high and creating a devastating feedback loop that turned his mind to mush and his body into a tool of the magic around him. All this time he thought this ability was giving him power and insight over the world around him, but was it possible that it came with drawbacks? Was it possible that he, a human of a measly 28 years, was not as knowledgeable, wise or willful as the ENTIRETY OF THE UNIVERSE!?

Yes. Yes it was. Not only was it likely, it was guaranteed. When stuck in a room with five individuals with confusion, and other emotions he couldn't quite place, as great or greater than is own it took all of his self-control to contain it and maintain a professional veneer until he could get away and release it unto the poor, unsuspecting wilderness.

He had been toying with powers he didn't understand, this ability he thought was merely an extrasensory ability was so much more. In his comfortability in using it he forgot the most fundamental principle behind it. Magic is alive. Magic is sentient. Magic is greater than he could ever hope to comprehend in ten million lifetimes. And he had presumed to be master over it for all these years?

How thick can you get?

Now he was off to a place where not only the loved ones he had lost would be, the first people to reveal this massive hole in his understanding of the world, but several dozen fully transformed werewolves and volunteer students. He couldn't afford to let this power control him. He couldn't afford to allow any emotions, whether they belonged to him or others, to interfere with his judgement or worse cause harm to others.

He clamped down on his senses. The field of his own magic that radiated around him pulling all of the world into himself, making every brick, pebble or dust paticle as unto his own flesh. Emotions, memories and the magic of spells long passed faded from his being, from his vicinity, and he became man again. Four limbs, a torso and a head that was at times far too empty for his own good. It felt wrong. Like losing sight, hearing and touch all at once and planning to function like normal. But he could do it. He would do it. Until he came to a better understanding of his, and possibly humanity's, relationship with the great magic that connected them all he couldn't afford to use it as he had been.

He had his limbs. He had his mind. He had his wand. For now, they would have to do.

Harry made a beeline for the front gates where a posse of 14 students stood waiting. All sixth and seventh years.

Hermione, Neville, Ron, Draco, Daphne, Susan, Crabbe and Goyle made up his former year mate volunteers. The five seventh-years were Kenneth Towler, then there was Marcus Belby, Eddie Carmichael and Cho Chang. Finally there was Miles Bletchley, whom Harry knew was held back one year and was technically an eighth year, but only because he hadn't quite scored high enough in charms and potions to get into medical school. The young man had taken the rare opportunity of having an eighth year to work on a couple extra NEWTS too while he was at it, including Harry's own class. A good mix of a group here. Mostly inquisitive people genuinely interested in the experience. He knew for Cho, Miles and Daphne in particular it was for a future in medicine. But for Crabbe, Goyle and Ron it really was just to get the three extra credits to round out their grades. That and moral support for their friends.

"Welcome everybody." Harry greeted. "Now if you will all follow me, I will lead you to Hogsmeade and from there to the recently renovated shrieking shack were my colleagues will be waiting for us.

Want your Story Written?

I take commissions now! You can pay me to write your fanfiction or original works. My prices are as follows.

$25 per 1000 words of fanfiction, with some wiggle room. I don't pad my work. You also get to video chat with me as I type the first chapter.

$25 per 500 words for original works, so anything that is not fanfiction. I also charge $25 per 500 words for smut or fetish materials.

Prices subject to change in the future. Check with me.

Become a Patron:

NonsensicalRants

You can also still become a patron for ONE DOLLAR to get access to future chapters 2 weeks early and vote on which stories I update next.