"Never cast a Reductor Curse again, Phe," said Ron.
With Sirius, Harry and Ron had spent their whole Lunch period re-assembling the Quidditch Stands. Their lunch had consisted of a couple of sandwiches that Kreacher, Sirius' House-elf, had brought them on Harry's orders. But Sirius had insisted they continued to fix whilst eating, as if they didn't finish before their Charms class, he'd make them finish after.
"I got caught up in the moment."
Ron shook his head. "That would've killed someone if it'd hit — it's a good thing no one was in the stands…"
"Yeah… I'll keep a reign on my spells a bit from now on…"
Once at the Charms classroom, they strolled in — five minutes early — and went over to speak with Flitwick.
"What'll we be learning today, Professor?" Ron asked.
Flitwick was brilliant. The short man always had a massive grin across his face, a smile contagious to everyone. Somehow even the Fifth-years — who seemed to hate everything and everyone — liked his classes, and respected Flitwick as much. Although, that might've come from the time Harry and Ron had overheard one of the younger years bad mouthing him, and had a chat — as they called it — that left the boy quivering…
"Oh, today lads, I plan to have you attempting the Protean Charm! A rather handy charm if used correctly, if I do say so!"
Ron and Harry shared a look. They were more than familiar with the charm. The first time they'd seen it was when Sirius had given them a pair of two-way mirrors that used an extremely complex variation of the spell that allowed them to talk as if they were in the same room, showing their faces in real-time. But the mirrors had a few different charms working in tandem to create that effect. Something even Harry thought he wouldn't be able to replicate without more time and research.
"You know it do you?" asked Flitwick, looking overjoyed at the thought. "Well, of course you two do — always eager to learn. Why don't you tell me what you already know, and I'll fill in the gaps — if there are any, that is!"
"It's a charm that links objects together — however many items you want can be used, as long as they are added correctly. You can use it to communicate from really far away should you set it up right…" said Ron, listing off what he knew. "There are many aspects that you can do to change the charm to fit your needs… but the main gist is to connect separate objects together, usually with one master object controlling the other."
"My oh my, boys — why do I even bother teaching the two of you?" said Flitwick, jovially. "I presume you've tried it?"
"Er — we've given it a shot… It's not quite the same as a regular one, but we couldn't be bothered to write back and forth to each other over the last couple of summers…" said Harry. He took his bag off and rummaged through it. Ron copied him. Once Harry found what he was looking for he pulled out a piece of parchment, Ron doing the same a moment after Harry.
"Don't dally," said Flitwick, "show me!"
Harry tapped his wand on his parchment, and it went from blank to containing: 'Ronald Weasley is bad at Quidditch'. Ron's parchment did the same.
Flitwick beamed at them. "The day I manage to stump either of you is the day the sun doesn't rise! This is truly impressive spellwork, lads… You may as well take your N.E.W.T now… I daresay you may even get an Outstanding if you show this level of work!"
"Ron charmed them with an Impervius Charm, too. And there are a few other Charms for people that aren't us…" said Harry, snatching the parchment away before Flitwick could get his hands on it.
Flitwick withdrew his outstretched hand quickly, keeping it close to his body. "I won't admonish either of you for that, but please keep these to yourselves… I wouldn't want some wayward First-Year getting jinxed. Otherwise I will have to go to the Headmaster."
"We'll keep them safe, Professor."
"Good. Now take your seats, class will start in a moment."
Charms went by fast as it always did. Harry and Ron mucked about in one of the corners as they watched their peers fumble with the charm. Hermione took to the charm well, as she did with most forms of magic, and Harry caught Ron ogling her more than once. Ron had been very vocal about her not getting Head Girl, and hated the fact that Pansy Parkinson had been elected instead. 'A conspiracy!' Ron had called it, that a Pure-blood had to be picked — not seeing the irony of his status as a Pure-blood too.
After Charms, the five boys went back to the Common Room to relax before dinner. It was both a blessing and a curse that they had a single period per week on each subject, and were expected to do most of their studying in their free time. In the Common Room was only the Seventh-Years, all of whom were nose deep in some book or another. Even Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil were quiet, with their Divination books, occasionally looking over to the Crystal Balls on the table.
As they sat in their spots, Harry and Ron pulled out the Quidditch roster and began to discuss tactics for the year.
"You guys not studying?" asked Neville.
"Nothing that needs studying yet," said Harry.
Neville shook his head. "You'll not always get everything, y'know. Eventually something's gotta stump you."
"Doubt it. Flitwick said we'd pass the N.E.W.T if we took it today," said Ron.
"An Outstanding," said Harry. "He said we'd get an Outstanding based on some of the magic we've done. I think that's enough to know we can relax." He kicked his feet up on the coffee table and laid back with an exaggerated sigh.
"I wish I were as gifted as the two of you," said Neville, as he began to attempt the Protean Charm on a couple of plant pots.
Harry didn't want to say, but in Ron's case he was hardly more talented than Neville — just he and Harry had spent so much time testing things to see what rules they could break that he'd had to get good with his wand; otherwise it just wouldn't work. There was only so much Harry could do before Ron had to pull his own weight, and in recent months — other than some tight situations — Ron hadn't needed Harry's help at all.
"We still need some proper Beaters," said Harry, turning his attention back to Quidditch. "No one has come close since your brother's left…"
"People just don't have the wish to maim like they used to." Ron shook his head. "Maybe we need to take a different approach."
"How so?"
"Instead of looking at Quidditch try-outs, we should look for the most unhinged kids. We can teach them to ride a broom adequately — Merlin knows Fred and George weren't amazing on their brooms; not like you are."
"Huh… that could work." Harry furrowed his brow. "There are those two fourth years…"
"Hawkes and — whoseit — Crooks?" asked Ron.
"Yeah. Didn't McGonagall catch them with that crup?"
"Oh yeah…" said Ron, the memory of how angry McGonagall had been at the two boys seemed to flash in his eyes. "I dunno — there's wanting to kill and there's wanting to kill…"
Harry nodded grimly. "Let's keep an eye out and see… It can be a back-up plan."
I—Harry—I
For the rest of the week they found a routine that suited them to their new schedules. Harry and Ron had started to observe the potential beaters from afar, and had pushed them into a couple of situations with Slytherin's using the map and a handy knowledge of the Castle's workings to see what they'd d0. All seemed to be going well, and Harry was more convinced with Ron's idea by the day. Now they needed to sell the idea of Quidditch Beater to the two so they could attend try-outs as if nothing was amiss.
Other than schoolwork and Quidditch, Harry had spent some time alone in a room off from the Kitchens; it was a room that he'd stumbled across after missing the Kitchens, before he knew about the pear. It was somewhere he'd kept to himself, even from Ron, and he usually spent time practising his spellwork without the watching eyes of his peers.
To everyone else, he never failed at a spell — but that was because he read ahead (or had Sirius' help) and spent a great deal of time perfecting everything. To a point where he needn't even use incantations. He even spent the summer before his Sixth-Year practising apparition with Sirius, so that when he started lessons at Hogwarts he hardly made a step wrong.
Most of the spells he performed came naturally, but when it came to perfecting them — ironing out the finer details and even modifying previous spells to fit his own need — he had many failed attempts. But failure, especially alone never dissuaded Harry, only being incapable did. Such was why he was the best in the year. He would spend hours, days or weeks, even, to get a single spell working as he wanted it.
This was what happened with the latest thing Harry had found himself stuck with: A way to bypass Anti-Apparition jinxes, namely the Hogwarts ones.
It was something he knew was possible. There had to be a way to elude the jinx, as Phoenix's and House-elves alike could both do so. He was sure Dumbledore knew how, too. Of course, there were other means of travel to get out of the castle. But something deep within Harry wanted to be able to bypass Hogwarts' limits. It would be great for when he was on his last day, he apparate out of the castle: one last showing of how great he was before he went out into the open world.
Harry had thought through some ways to circumvent the jinx. A way to confuse them — as Hogwarts, and every charm about it, was at the very least somewhat sentient. He thought about a Confundus Charm, but how he'd manage that on a castle as vast as Hogwarts was a conundrum in itself. He thought of a different type of apparition, as the jinx would only work for apparition — nothing more. And yet that left him needing to invent a whole new method of transportation.
If he did manage that, he'd be published…
That thought sparked another spur of motivation, and Harry scanned through the text he'd taken from the Library on Magical Transportation once more — hoping to gain some inspiration.
A form of Portkey, to an extent, would work; but Harry didn't want to rely on any object (other than his wand) to do something. It wouldn't be good enough. Not to mention the lengthy authorisation processes that came with personal Portkeys. Fudge, the blithering buffoon, would throw Harry in Azkaban without hesitation… Hell, even if he invented this new form of Magical Transportation, Fudge would pass some bill to have it clamped down by the end of the next working day!
Harry yawned and glanced at his watch, stretching out on the sofa he'd conjured. It was close to Midnight; he'd been in the room for the best part of ten hours, missing dinner in the process. When he got up, his stomach let out a rumble and Harry headed for the Kitchens instead of the Dormitories.
"Out for a midnight snack, Harry?" came Dumbledore's distinctive voice.
"Er… yes, Professor…"
"Ah, me too. It seems time ran away from me."
"That makes two of us," said Harry, sighing an internal sigh of relief that Dumbledore wouldn't punish him for being out past curfew.
Dumbledore chuckled, and moved to open the Kitchens hidden door for Harry. "What has captured your focus?" he asked as they entered.
"Forms of transportation," said Harry.
"Any particular method?"
"Apparition."
"I thought you had your licence?" said Dumbledore, calling over a house-elf and asking them to bring whatever leftovers there were from Dinner earlier.
"I do, but there are some less than desired limits to apparition I want to — y'know…"
"Evade."
"Yeah…"
"Well…" said Dumbledore, smiling. "If you ever find a way, I'd be most intrigued to hear it."
"I have found a way…" said Harry. "But… it's not what I'm looking for."
"How so?"
"I wouldn't say only I can do it, but — well it's not accessible for the masses."
"And you are looking to invent something for others, not just yourself?"
"I guess… I'm not really sure yet, but the other way I've got isn't really something I want to share, y'know… Having it out in the open doesn't appeal to me."
"Yes, of course — I am well aware of keeping little secrets to use at opportune moments. Something about having a trump card that you can fall back on, that no one can foresee; it does have a certain distinction to it that people like us covet."
Dumbledore's use of 'us' made Harry fill with glee. He couldn't keep the smile from forming on his face.
"Sit with me," said Dumbledore, motioning to the small table and chairs permanently in the Kitchens for whomever might need it.
Harry did so, sitting opposite Dumbledore. He had sobered, and the effect made Harry's smile fade.
"Our prestige does not make us immune to the Laws of Magic, Harry… We push and push, thinking never will Magic retaliate. But it will. And it'll push back harder — harsher — than you ever could… I have seen it, experienced it. You do not get to where I am without getting beaten down…" Dumbledore looked older than time as he spoke, ageing with each word. "Time and time again, you shall be tested and it has swayed many from the path. They find other facets to devote themselves to — all less dangerous… but less rewarding… lesser in every aspect."
"You're speaking as if Magic is sentient, Professor."
Dumbledore nodded. "Hogwarts, Harry, doesn't sing to our whims: it does as it pleases. We merely inhabit it, nothing more. The Founders built this castle, yes, but they built it knowing what would happen… a hotspot for Magic to flourish… All major places we inhabit are like this."
"But the Ministry doesn't have moving staircases…" said Harry.
"It's far too young for that… but beneath — in the Department of Mysteries…" Dumbledore said no more, though he needn't have to — Harry got the hint.
"So what? If I anger this otherworldly power, it'll kill me?" asked Harry, as fascinated with the thought as he was disturbed. What sort of divine power could influence the world on such a colossal scale?
"No. Heavens no. It'll do so much worse."
"What could be worse than death?"
Dumbledore seemed to lose himself for a moment, like a Muggle seeing a ghost, before he regained composure. "Losing yourself in your endeavours… Forgetting what you started for."
"So death of soul instead of body?" asked Harry, frowning.
Dumbledore nodded. "Those who're well read will tell you death is merely the next great adventure, a never ending adventure… Defy magic, and it's thought that this gift is taken from you."
"You're not making it sound like a good thing to pursue more power…"
Dumbledore smiled. "To most it isn't… But I see that hunger inside you, Harry… A ravenous desire for more than a mediocre life. Even if you did settle down, marry and have kids, I fear there'll always be a part of you that looks out the window and dreams of what you could've done — who you could've been."
"But Professor… Those who seek more from Magic than the masses… Most don't have a strict need to do so — not in the sense that our life is on the line; that we have people whom we need to protect… And for me — yes, there is an intellectual component to it — but I… I don't have a good reason for wanting this power that I covet. Wouldn't this go against Magic's intent?"
"Seeking power isn't inherently against Magic's will, only seeking the wrong powers — going against nature in a sense past what should be humanly possible. That's what Magic will punish you for," said Dumbledore. "And, if I may, what is your reason: good or other?"
"I… well I — I've always been compared to my parents. How amazing they were, how talented… and I've been given that — and then… and then…" Harry paused, taking a deep breath.
"You want to prove you're your own man," said Dumbledore.
Harry nodded.
Dumbledore seemed to understand the sentiment. "What do you think will prove that?"
"I —"
"Don't. Don't tell me… just think about it," said Dumbledore. He tucked into some of the food the House-elves had brought.
They had brought a few things, namely a few chicken legs for each of them and a large amount of rice with an assortment of vegetables. Dumbledore had plated himself a modest portion, while Harry dug into a far larger one. They ate in relative silence, Dumbledore spoke up once they began to eat desert.
"Rubeus has mentioned once again you and Mr Weasley's ever growing fascination with the Forbidden Forest. May I inquire as to why?"
"Well… the mystery to it, I guess… and it's always nice to see all the Creatures that live in it." Harry stopped himself from talking about what they'd found in the Forest. "You can't forget the fact that it has 'forbidden' in the name, too…"
"Yes, yes."
"Why'd you ask?"
"Rubeus has asked if he'd be allowed to lead excursions into the deeper areas of the forest with a select few of his most promising students — you and Mr Weasley are at the very top of his list."
This didn't come as too much of a surprise, Harry and Ron spent a lot of time around Hagrid outside of the lessons. The previous year, they had spent the hour before the lesson started with Hagrid — and often helped set up and help Hagrid with the Creatures that needed it. Not that Hagrid couldn't handle them on his own.
"That would be incredible if we could," said Harry. "I know it would help us to know the Creatures better if we saw them first hand…"
"Yes, Hagrid gave me the same pitch," said Dumbledore, amusement across his face. "All that I worry about is the students who Hagrid wishes to take. And how each of you and Mr Weasley will get along with them."
"What'd you mean?"
"Ms Parkinson and Ms Greengrass are the other two on Hagrid's list. I trust there will be no issues between the four of you?"
"Of course not, Professor."
"Good. I wouldn't want to have to stop these excursions due to inter-house rivalry." Dumbledore finished his desert and stood. "If you'd pass the message onto Mr Weasley that you and he are to come to my office Sunday night so we can go over the ground rules, I would much appreciate it."
Harry nodded.
"Good! I'll see you then… And don't be out too late, Harry — sleep is as important as practising your spellwork."
Harry took his time getting back to his dormitory, taking the long way around through different passages and winding staircases that the Professors usually avoided. Namely due to Peeves the Poltergeist, who often lurked around there to catch unassuming students off guard, though Fred and George had long since brokered peace with the blighter in exchange for goods from the joke shops — which Harry kept up with now that they were gone.
Once back, the Fat Lady giving him grief, he slipped into his dorm — all of his friends already fast asleep — and opened his bed's curtains to be greeted by a thick leather-bound book titled: The Unknown Magic Behind Wizarding Society.
