Apparently, Lockhart had fled the castle with all of his belongings when Ginny was possessed and taken to the Chamber, and no one had seen him since. Harry wasn't sure what to make of it, but he was happy to be free of the annoying professor with the hollow soul.
Dumbledore called for an impromptu feast to celebrate the revival of the petrification victims and to announce the defeat of Slytherin's monster. He also apparently decided to give Harry a whole bunch of house points and an award for special services to the school without warning him beforehand, which Harry considered cruel and unusual punishment. He also thought it was incredibly ironic that Tom Riddle got the same reward for opening the Chamber in the first place fifty years ago. Almost ironic enough to be worth the attention.
Luna dropped into a low curtsey as she approached her usual spot at the Gryffindor table. "It's lovely to see that you've been successfully knighted, Bladesinger. I was worried that you may lose your head in the attempt."
Harry rolled his eyes but grinned at the capricious blonde. "Sure you were. Is that why you got me Rocky?"
"I can't imagine what you're referring to. I bet you didn't even try to bribe the Basilisk into joining the side of good with the roast beef and Yorkshire pudding that I put in your school bag."
Harry blinked. "Luna, I haven't touched my school bag since before the last Quidditch game. Did you actually…"
"Aw phooey. You may want to check on that, then."
Harry groaned while Hermione cackled next to him. She appreciated Luna's antics when they weren't aimed at her.
Neville sat down next to them and shook his head at all three of them. "Just another normal day for you then?"
"Pretty much. Life threatening peril, drama, intrigue. I ate a sword, which is somehow both more and less impressive than it sounds. Oh! And I found out that I can free house elves regardless of their master's wishes."
Hermione choked on her first bite of mashed potatoes.
…
Harry continued his tradition from last year of seeing his friends off at Hogsmeade station. The other students continued to whisper and shoot curious glances at him, and Hermione to a lesser extent. The teachers had quickly repaired the damage caused by Hermione's brief fight with the Basilisk, but word had still gotten around. In his case, the rest of the school knew that he had gotten the award but didn't know the details. Apparently, Ginny was actually keeping her mouth shut, which was unexpected but not unappreciated.
"Hey, Blade Yodeler."
Hermione walked up beside him after stowing her trunk. He turned and met her teasing smile with one of his own. "You know, it's not my fault that Luna comes up with those dramatic names."
"You love it, don't even lie. You're such a drama queen at heart. I bet you thought something along the lines of 'I am the Death Walker' to yourself while you were fighting the Basilisk."
"I'll have you know that it was my sense of drama that called Fawkes to me and ultimately saved the school!"
She laughed and hugged him. "I'll admit, Death Walker is pretty badass." she said into his ear.
Harry actually felt himself blush.
…
Harry twirled the Blade of the Castle in his hand, trying to recall the instinctual way that he had wielded the sword while fighting the Basilisk. It was the strangest feeling, like the sword knew how it was supposed to be used, but Harry didn't know how to use it. The disconnect felt like he was forgetting a word that he knew he should remember. He swung the sword around casually while poking and prodding at the soul of the blade.
It was just after breakfast, and he was once again the only student in the castle. Now that the cat was out of the metaphorical bag, at least to the professors, following the events at the end of the year, he could practice with his power more openly. Right now, he was standing on one of the wide green lawns around the school and trying not to feel silly practicing with his new sword.
He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to relax. He knew that it should be instinctive, like the way his power flowed through his body while he ran or leapt through the trees. He could feel that the sword wanted to be used. He just had to get his stupid brain out of the way.
Despite feeling awkward, Harry began to swing the sword with two hands in a way that felt vaguely knight-like. He channeled his power into his body and mind to increase his speed, moving faster and faster as he cut through imaginary enemies. He imagined slashing and stabbing and butchering the myriad of monsters he had fought growing up, the zombies and demonic dogs and other unnatural scuttling things. He fed his magic into the blade until wide sweeps of green flames poured from it, sending swathes and bolts of searing fire across the open field.
He wasn't sure when he fell into an easy, intuitive rhythm, but eventually it finally felt like the knowledge within the blade was coming to him. He hacked and slashed and jabbed with the ancient sword, feeling more and more confident with every minute. He poured more power into his body and into the Blade of the Castle, empowering both as he blazed across the imaginary battlefield.
He was sure that this wasn't officially good form, or whatever actual swordfighters used. He was too strong, too fast for any of the techniques designed for normal humans. His blade was indestructible and could cut through anything, which probably wasn't taken into account with most fighting styles. Plus, he would never be dueling anything that used a similar weapon against him. With that in mind, he allowed his soul to blend with the sword as he created his own style, leaping and spinning while he whirled across the wide space in a tornado of blistering flame.
He eventually allowed his magic to calm as he came to a stop, surveying the damage around him. He would have to apologize to Hagrid and maybe help him plant new grass.
He jumped slightly when he heard a round of polite applause from behind him. He turned and saw Professor McGonagall clapping with a slight smirk on her normally serious face. She stopped and walked over to him, carefully avoiding the charred trenches carved into the previously pristine lawn.
"Good morning, Mr Potter. If you don't mind me saying, you reminded me greatly of your father just now. I'm sure that, given the excuse to swing around a legendary sword, James would have been quite enthusiastic as well."
Harry started slightly at the mention of his father, but he appreciated the professor's words, nonetheless. He returned the sword to his soul.
To his surprise, the posh professor carefully arranged her robes and sat on an undamaged section of grass.
"Do you have a moment to sit and talk with me, Mr Potter? There are several things that I need to discuss with you, and I feel that a more informal environment may be beneficial."
Harry was confused but went and flopped down on the grass beside the Transfiguration professor regardless. "What would you like to talk about, professor?"
"I have something of a story to tell you, the relevance of which will become clear upon its conclusion. I have mentioned to you before that I knew your parents well. Your mother and father were two of my favorite students, and I'll admit that I had a soft spot for them and their friends."
Harry nodded, unsure about the direction that the conversation had taken but not opposed to hearing more about his parents. After the events of last year, he felt more removed from a traditional childhood than ever, but he still felt a strange mix of hollow emptiness and warm comfort when talking about his parents.
"Your mother and father were…rivals of a sort for much of their school career. Your mother was polite, studious, and organized but also opinionated, fiery and occasionally volatile. Not too dissimilar from Miss Granger, now that I think of it."
Harry blinked at the mention of Hermione and decided to put that in the 'process later' box.
"Your father, on the other hand, was brash, arrogant, and confident. He was cheeky but charismatic, absurd yet charming. He made both friends and enemies easily and gained their loyalty and animosity with equal fervor. He was also a troublemaker, much to the annoyance of your mother for the first few years of their time at school together.
Harry listened with rapt attention. He had never heard his parents described like this by someone who knew them and saw their faults as well as their strengths.
"James became good friends with three other boys in his year, calling themselves 'The Marauders'. They collectively got up to all manner of ridiculous hijinks and adventures, from turning the Slytherin common room into a maze of magical mirrors to sneaking out at night to explore the castle and the grounds. Your father's best friend's names were Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black."
Harry nodded.
"I tell you about them specifically because you may potentially meet the two surviving Marauders this year. Remus Lupin has been hired to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts after Gilderoy's unexpected departure. He has been out of the country due to his work until recently but returned at the headmaster's request."
Harry wasn't sure what to think about his father's friend coming to teach at the school, but he nodded again.
"The other surviving Marauder has a much more uncomfortable story. Sirius Black was your father's best friend among the group, his partner in crime and the best man at your parent's wedding. It was also Black who betrayed your parents to You-Know-Who, telling him where to locate them while they were in hiding with you."
Harry's eyes widened. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't that.
"After his betrayal, the remaining member of their group, Peter Pettigrew, went after Black. Unfortunately for Peter, he found him. Apparently Black made quick work of him, blowing Peter and twelve muggles up with a curse before he was taken in by the Aurors. My understanding is that he confessed at the scene of the crime. He has been in Azkaban prison ever since."
She paused and looked decidedly disturbed.
"That is, until this morning."
Well, shit.
…
"Hey Albus, I've got a very important form for you to sign. It's the least you can do considering that I'm still not getting all of my mail."
…
"Mum… I have something that I want to show you, if you have a minute."
Hermione's mother looked up at her from the papers scattered across the kitchen table. She often brought work home with her if she didn't have any appointments for the afternoon.
"Sure sweety, what'cha got?" Her mum smiled warmly at her.
"So, you know how we can't do magic outside of school, right?"
She nodded.
"Well, it turns out, that rule only applies to magic that's done with a wand."
Her mother frowned. "I thought that all magic requires a wand? Wasn't that what Professor McGonagall said?"
Hermione swallowed nervously. "Most witches and wizards think that magic requires a wand, or runes, or a potion. Everyone, the teachers, the ministry, use wands. But…they're all wrong. Headmaster Dumbledore and Harry can do magic without a wand."
Her mother raised her eyebrows at her.
Hermione brought forth her power and let her eyes blaze with a soft blue glow as she pictured what she wanted in her mind. Sparks and tendrils of blue-white light spiraled down her arm and, with a twist of her magic, she summoned a clear, delicate rose made of ice in her hand. It glowed with the same inner radiance as her power. She blushed a little bit at her mother's look of awe and wonder.
"And now, I can too."
…
After apologizing for once again damaging the bar in the Leaky Cauldron, Harry made his way to the ice cream parlor in Diagon Alley where he agreed to meet his friends for their yearly shopping trip. He couldn't help but break into a wide grin at the sight of Hermione, Neville, and Luna enjoying their sundaes. Beside Luna sat a slightly lost looking man with a very similar shade of blond hair.
Harry waved as he approached, and Hermione beamed at him. He couldn't resist smiling back as she bounced out of her seat and gave him a hug before leading him back to the table. The slightly cross-eyed man next to Luna also stood as the neared the table.
"Xenophilius Lovegood. It's fantastic to make your acquaintance, Harry Potter. Luna has told me so much about you, and I'm very happy to hear that she has such wonderful friends."
Harry was a bit taken aback by the man's exuberance, but took his hand and smiled, nonetheless.
"It's nice to meet you, Mr Lovegood. Luna is wonderful too, and I'm happy to be her friend."
As they sat down, Luna's father leaned over to her and stage-whispered excitedly, "Pumpkin, you didn't tell me that he was a Death Walker!"
Harry groaned while Hermione and Neville laughed. Apparently, Luna came by her eccentricities honestly.
…
Luna's father, or 'Xeno' as he insisted that they call him, disappeared after they finished their ice cream. He said something about looking for Gulping Plimpy bladders and wandered off. Harry and Hermione both decided not to ask.
They worked their way through the regular required stops at Madam Malkin's, the apothecary, and Flourish and Blotts, the latter taking quite a bit longer than the others as Hermione stocked up on new material for the upcoming year. Harry was just swinging by the menagerie to stock up on owl treats when Hermione spoke up.
"I think I might like to get a cat."
Harry raised his eyebrows at her. "Are you sure? I mean, cats are pretty neat, but it's still a lot of responsibility. I got lucky that Hedwig basically takes care of herself."
She nodded, "Yes, I know that of course. But still, I think it would be nice. I'll just see if any of them feel like the right one."
Of course, Hermione walked out of the store with the ugliest, grumpiest cat that Harry had ever seen.
…
Harry stood in front of the Quidditch supply store, looking at the newest display in the window.
The Firebolt.
He went inside to ask for pricing.
…
"Now, you're absolutely sure that I'm limited to the gold in my trust vault? There is no possible way that I can access the main Potter family vault? No properties that I can sell? What about any minor emancipation loopholes I can exploit? I'm the last remaining heir to a Noble House."
The goblin behind the counter sneered at him.
"No."
…
Harry stood in the entrance hall of the ancient castle. It had been a generally uneventful summer, aside from the revelations about Sirius Black. He practiced more with the sword, although without any property damage this time, and he enjoyed having more time to fly even if he couldn't buy a Firebolt. He missed Hermione though and was excited for classes to start if only for a change of pace. He was hoping for a year free of attacks or possessions, but he knew that was probably too much to ask for.
Sure enough, when the carriages unloaded Hermione ran over to him and threw her arms around him. She looked shaken and her eyes were vaguely red, like she had been crying.
"Harry, we may have a problem. The Dementors of Azkaban searched the train and they're awful. I'll have to do some research; I don't know what they are. They're like… like… wayward shards of Dark or something, but malicious and hungry. They're setting up a perimeter around the school now, supposedly to watch for Sirius Black."
Harry frowned as he walked over to the open door with his best friend in tow. Sure enough, he could feel the foul aura of Something rolling over the castle grounds. It wasn't the peaceful, endless night of the cloak, but a rancid, rotting bog of ravenous Dark. He reached out with his power and could feel the insidious presence welcome it as it tried to consume the magic in his soul.
Well. That certainly put a damper on things.
