CHAPTER 18: BETWEEN BOOKS AND QUIDDITCH
Inside, the Headmistress appeared deeply engrossed in a book on her desk, her attention seemingly captured by the text before her. As Harry entered, she didn't immediately acknowledge his presence, causing him to hesitate momentarily before approaching.
Standing before the table, Harry waited patiently, unsure of how to proceed in the presence of the formidable Headmistress.
Without looking up from her book, the Headmistress posed a question that caught Harry off guard. "What do you think you'll learn from these classes?"
Harry blinked in surprise, taken aback by the unexpected inquiry. "According to what I've been told, it's about using magic without a wand. Isn't that it?" he replied tentatively, uncertain of where the conversation was headed.
Finally lifting her gaze from the book, the Headmistress regarded Harry with a thoughtful expression. "The truth is, it's not exactly that. What you need to learn is to control magic without relying on a wand. You already use it without one; it's just that you don't control it as much as you could."
Harry furrowed his brow in confusion, struggling to comprehend her words. "What do you mean I already use it? I don't understand what you're saying."
"The involuntary magic you performed as a child is already wandless magic, just like every time you cast 'Accio!'" the Headmistress explained, her tone patient as she approached the table and rested her head on her hands. "Remember what happened when they wanted to send Tonks to France?"
Harry's mind flashed back to the incident, recalling the surge of anger and power that had coursed through him, resulting in the unintentional destruction of the kitchen door. "Yes, I got angry and broke the kitchen door with an unlocking spell. That was the moment when that strange power inside me woke up," he recounted.
"Correct, but... do you know you did it without a wand?" the Headmistress questioned, her eyes searching his face for understanding.
Harry hadn't considered the absence of his wand during the incident in the kitchen. As he reflected on the memory, he couldn't recall holding his wand at the time; his sole focus had been on reaching Tonks and preventing her from being sent away. If what McGonagall suggested was true, it meant that his intense desire to save her had tapped into a wellspring of power he hadn't realized he possessed.
"Are you telling me that at that moment, I fully controlled all that power?" Harry asked, his mind racing with the implications of such a revelation.
"No, on the contrary," McGonagall clarified, her tone measured as she sought to explain. "You directed it, using it as you wanted, but in a primitive way without real control." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "You could say you channeled all your magic toward a single point but without controlling the result."
Harry nodded slowly, absorbing her words. "The idea is that you can channel all that power wherever and however you want. Do you understand?" McGonagall inquired, her gaze searching his face for comprehension.
"I think so," Harry replied, his determination evident in his voice.
"Then let's start!" McGonagall exclaimed, rising from her chair with a sense of purpose. "The most important thing you need to learn is to channel your magic."
Before Harry could interject, she continued, "For now, just that. Once you manage to control this point, we'll start trying to develop all that hidden power you have."
"But I thought that..." Harry began, only to be cut off by McGonagall's firm response.
"Learn to walk before you run! What matters is that you can control it, that's true. But if you need a stimulus to use it, you might not achieve it when you need it."
Harry considered her words carefully, reminded of what had triggered that mysterious power—his desire to protect Tonks. He resolved that he wouldn't put her in danger for anything, even to harness that power.
"You're right. I'm ready!" he declared, his determination burning bright as he prepared to embark on this new journey of magical discovery.
The professor approached a shelf on the side, and Harry couldn't help but notice how oddly it was organized. In each row, there was a small book followed by a larger one, and then an even larger one until the last one, which was considerably heavier and larger. The pattern repeated across the five tiers of the shelf, with the size of the books increasing on the upper shelves.
"Today, we'll practice your 'Accio!'" McGonagall announced, gesturing towards the first bookshelf. "I want you to summon each book, starting from the smallest to the largest."
Harry positioned himself in front of the shelf, ready to begin the exercise. With determination, he cast the spell, "Accio Book!" and watched as the smallest one flew effortlessly into his hand. He repeated the process, successfully summoning each subsequent book as they increased in size.
However, as the books grew larger, Harry found it increasingly challenging to summon them. With each successive spell, he felt a growing sense of fatigue, unsure why summoning the larger books seemed to drain him more.
By the time he reached the middle of the third shelf, Harry couldn't muster the energy to perform the summoning spell anymore. He looked to McGonagall, feeling a mix of frustration and disappointment at his inability to complete the task.
McGonagall observed his struggle, though she couldn't help but be pleased with what he had achieved. She hadn't anticipated him managing so much in the first session.
"That's enough for today," she declared gently, noting Harry's exhaustion. "The next day, you'll have to do a bit more."
With a flick of her wand, all the books scattered around Harry returned to their places on the shelf.
"Why does it get harder each time?" Harry inquired, his brow furrowed with curiosity.
"When you summon something with the 'Accio' spell, it's usually your wand or a lightweight object. Books have more weight, so summoning them requires more energy and a bit more focus," McGonagall explained patiently.
"I see," Harry replied, absorbing her words.
"If you can summon all the books, we'll move on to the next step in your training. I assure you, then, you'll be able to perform other spells easily since you'll have increased your energy and concentration," she assured him, offering a glimmer of hope for the challenges that lay ahead.
"So, are we done?" Harry asked, feeling utterly drained both physically and mentally.
"Yes, Mr. Potter, I believe I couldn't start over even if I wanted to," McGonagall replied with a small smile, acknowledging the intensity of the session.
Harry nodded, feeling grateful for the break. "Until the next class," he said, turning towards the door.
However, a noise caught his attention, causing him to glance back into the office.
"Fawkes!" Harry exclaimed as the phoenix flew from its perch and landed on his arm. He marveled at how light the magnificent bird felt despite its size. "Hi, how are you?" he greeted warmly, noticing the bird's vibrant and brilliant appearance.
"Much better than before. There's no doubt the short time spent with you did wonders for him. He's grown a lot in such a short time," McGonagall remarked, observing the interaction between Harry and Fawkes.
Harry gently petted the mythical bird, feeling a sense of kinship with the creature. "He and I have seen too many loved ones die. Being together has alleviated some of the sorrow," he explained softly, sharing a moment of understanding with McGonagall.
"In his case, someone else has contributed to that," McGonagall noted, referring to Tonks.
"Before I came in, I crossed paths with her on the stairs," Harry recalled, his thoughts drifting to the encounter.
"She came to ask for help with the Quidditch team; being new, she didn't know what to do. I told her that the captain is in charge of organizing the practices and that she should talk to him. She could ask him anything she needed to know," McGonagall explained.
"The captain of the team is me," Harry realized, a hint of perplexity in his voice.
"That's exactly what I told her," McGonagall confirmed, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
Now understanding the comment she made when she was lost in the hallway, Harry grinned mischievously. "I hope neither of you disappoints the trust I've placed in you," McGonagall stated firmly.
"Don't worry, I guarantee that within Hogwarts, we won't let you down," Harry assured her confidently.
"And outside?" McGonagall prompted, her tone implying a deeper question.
Harry's grin widened mischievously. "Outside the castle, she's not my teacher, and I'm not her student," he replied, his words carrying a hint of playful defiance.
With that, Harry left the office, leaving a surprised but amused Headmistress behind.
Heading to the Great Hall for dinner, Harry found Ron already eating, but there was no sign of Ginny and Hermione.
"Where are the girls?" Harry inquired, noticing their absence.
"They went to the library, to start organizing. You know how much Hermione loves being among books," Ron explained, a hint of disappointment evident in his tone.
"Is something bothering you?" Harry inquired, noticing his friend's demeanor.
"It bothers me a bit that my girlfriend prefers being among books than with me," Ron admitted, his frustration bubbling to the surface.
"Ron, she's always been like that. Do you think she'll change overnight? What if I told you to give up Quidditch?" Harry posed the question, attempting to offer perspective.
"Why should I do that? She knows I love it," Ron protested, feeling defensive.
"Then, it's silly to be upset when she does what she enjoys, isn't it?" Harry pointed out, hoping to help Ron see reason.
Ron paused, realizing the truth in Harry's words. "I understand. If I like Quidditch and she likes books, I shouldn't interfere with her interests," he conceded, a smile tugging at his lips. "I've been quite selfish."
"Sit down, let's eat; they'll surely be here soon," Harry suggested, gesturing towards the table.
Harry and Ron settled into their seats, sharing a moment of camaraderie as they awaited the arrival of Hermione and Ginny.
At that moment, Hermione and Ginny entered the Great Hall, their expressions serious as they approached the table.
"It's going to be harder than we thought," Hermione remarked, placing a stack of books on the table.
"What's wrong?" Harry inquired, concern flickering in his eyes.
"The books containing all the Hogwarts students are written by the castle's quill. They're scrolls where all the names of magical and Muggle-born children with magical powers are written at birth," Hermione explained, her voice tinged with frustration.
"And?" Ron prompted, eager for clarification.
"They're organized by years, not alphabetically," Hermione explained, her brow furrowed in concentration. "We'll need to go through four volumes per year, starting from Harry's birth year until we find the wizard," Ginny added, her voice tinged with determination.
As the reality of the task sank in, the group realized the magnitude of their endeavor. The wizard they sought could be young or old, spanning over 400 books.
Hermione had been lost in thought for a while, knowing there was a missing piece to their plan. Then, suddenly, an idea struck her.
"I'm such an idiot!" she exclaimed, startling everyone. "We don't need to search through so many books. A wizard with enough power, bravery, and knowledge would have graduated the year Harry was born. And to know and oppose the Dark Lord, they couldn't be too old. That means..." She began calculating mentally, the pieces falling into place. "We'll have to start looking 18 years before Harry was born until the birth of He Who Must Not Be Named." She looked up, excitement shining in her eyes.
"And if they don't show up? Remember, we don't know when they retrieved the locket from the cave. It could have been years ago or just a day before we arrived," Harry pointed out, his voice laced with concern.
"Then we'll gradually add a year ahead and another behind those dates, but I'd be very surprised if they were much older than us. They'd need knowledge about He Who Must Not Be Named and his life," Hermione reasoned, glancing at everyone gathered around the table, her confidence unwavering. "And that's something few people know well."
They continued discussing their day and plans for the next, sharing anecdotes and laughs amidst their serious deliberations. Harry recounted his training session with the Headmistress, detailing the challenges and insights gained from the intensive session. Meanwhile, his friends shared their own experiences from Lupin's special class, admitting their struggles with advanced spells and enchantments from the Auror book.
After dinner, Harry noticed Tonks leaving through the professors' door, prompting him to rise from his seat.
"I have to go. Tonks... I mean, Professor Tonks, has summoned me for a meeting in her office," Harry explained, sensing his friends' curiosity and concern.
"Harry," Hermione began, her voice laden with unspoken thoughts.
"Don't worry, it's about a Quidditch team matter, and McGonagall knows," Harry reassured them, offering a reassuring smile.
"You'd better keep it together, mate," Ron chimed in, a hint of mischief in his tone. "We know what's going on..."
With a nod of acknowledgment, Harry left the Great Hall, his footsteps echoing down the corridor as he made his way towards Tonks's office. With each step, his heart quickened its pace, a mix of nerves and anticipation coursing through him.
"'Calm down, you know nothing can happen no matter how much you want it,'" he reminded himself, mentally chastising his racing thoughts. "'If you mess up, you won't see her for a long time.'"
Lost in contemplation, he finally arrived at the door to the Transformations professor's office. It was a familiar sight, having visited on numerous occasions under McGonagall's mentorship. However, the difference now was palpable; before, he hadn't wanted to enter, and now, it was all he desired. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he adjusted his robes and attempted to tame his unruly hair, though it seemed a lost cause.
Summoning his courage, he knocked on the door, waiting for the response from within, his mind swirling with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.
"Come in!" came the response from within as Harry knocked on the door, his heart quickening its pace in anticipation.
Entering the room, his eyes immediately sought out Tonks, a rush of emotions washing over him at the sight of her.
"Did you want to see me, Professor Tonks?" he inquired, attempting to mask the fluttering in his chest.
"Yes, Potter, come in and close the door," she replied, her tone tinged with warmth.
He complied, closing the door behind him. Tonks swiftly cast a spell on the door, creating a barrier of soundproofing around them.
"That's better!" she exclaimed, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "We can't be together as we'd like, but if we're alone, I don't see why we can't speak freely," she explained, flashing him a reassuring smile.
Harry felt a sense of relief wash over him, knowing they could converse without fear of eavesdroppers. "You can't imagine how hard it was for me to control myself in McGonagall's office staircase," he confessed, a hint of humor in his tone.
"Do you think you were the only one? This is more difficult than I thought," Tonks admitted, her expression mirroring his sentiments.
"Do you think we're being watched?" Harry glanced around the room, his senses on high alert.
"You know Hogwarts, you can't rule anything out," Tonks replied with a shrug. "Changing the subject, I asked you here because, as the Quidditch team captain, I want to ask when it's best to start training," she explained, her smile returning. "If I'm the head of the house, I'll have to worry about these things, won't I? Moreover," she added, glancing at the trophy on the mantelpiece, "I like how it looks there, and I want it there next year."
Harry couldn't help but notice how much Tonks resembled McGonagall when it came to Quidditch matters, or perhaps the responsibility of the position brought out similar behaviors in them both.
"I think it's best to start at the end of September. The team is set, no one has left, so we're very cohesive. Half of the team has special subjects this year, and we'll need some time to adapt," Harry suggested, considering the logistics of their training schedule.
Tonks nodded thoughtfully, taking a sheet of parchment from her desk. "Besides Ron and Ginny, how are the rest of the kids?" she inquired, shifting the conversation to a topic Harry hadn't expected, but one he was more than willing to discuss.
As they delved into discussing Quidditch logistics and strategies, the tension of their clandestine meeting slowly dissipated, replaced by the ease of camaraderie. Yet, amidst their lighthearted banter, Tonks broached a more serious topic, her tone shifting unexpectedly.
"When will you start looking for the 'Pieces'?" she inquired, her gaze penetrating.
Harry understood her reference to the Horcruxes immediately. "We've already started. First, we'll look for information on the mysterious wizard who beat us to it, and then on the remaining objects," he explained, his voice tinged with determination. "The girls are already organizing in the library. Ron and I pretend we're just studying and preparing without looking for trouble," he added, glancing at her for approval.
Tonks nodded in understanding, acknowledging the delicate balance they needed to maintain in their search.
"And how's your special training?" she inquired, her concern evident as she observed his fatigued appearance.
"I'm dead tired; I just want to get to my room and rest," Harry admitted, his exhaustion palpable.
"Then it's better for you to go to bed," Tonks advised, her voice gentle yet firm.
Despite his weariness, Harry hesitated, a desire to prolong their time together tugging at him. "No, I'd rather stay with you a little longer!" he blurted out, his heart racing at the prospect of spending more time in her company.
Tonks's smile softened, her eyes reflecting a warmth that eased the weariness from his bones. "Alright," she acquiesced, her tone tender.
With a sense of relief, Harry settled back into their conversation, grateful for the opportunity to escape the burdens of the day, if only for a little while longer.
"Now," Tonks began, shifting the focus away from their worries and onto a lighter topic, "how was your first day as a professor?"
The trio exchanged bemused glances, amused by Tonks's newfound enthusiasm for Quidditch matters. Harry couldn't help but smile at the thought of their professor channeling her inner Quidditch fanatic.
"She's really getting into her role as head of house," Hermione remarked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Looks like we've got a real Quidditch aficionado on our hands," Ron quipped, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Ginny chuckled softly, flipping through the pages of her book. "Well, as long as she's on our side, I don't mind her passion for Quidditch."
Harry nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of camaraderie among them. Despite the challenges they faced, moments like these reminded him of the strength of their friendship.
With a collective yawn, they bid each other goodnight and retreated to their respective dormitories, ready to rest and recharge for the challenges that lay ahead.
As Harry settled into bed, thoughts of Tonks lingered in his mind. He couldn't shake the warmth of their conversation, nor the anticipation of what the future held. Closing his eyes, he drifted off to sleep, a faint smile playing on his lips.
As they reflected on their discussion, laughter bubbled up among them, a brief respite from the weight of their mission.
"Anything else on her mind?" Hermione probed, her curiosity piqued.
Harry nodded, a wry grin playing on his lips. "She also prodded about when we'd embark on the search for the founders' objects."
"And what was your response to that?" Hermione leaned in, eager for details.
"The truth," Harry replied, his voice steady. "I told her you're spearheading the information gathering while Ron and I maintain a facade of normalcy while honing our skills in secret."
Hermione's expression softened, a hint of pride glinting in her eyes. "For now, it seems our strategy is holding up," she remarked, though her tone cautioned against complacency. "But let's not allow ourselves to grow overconfident and lose sight of our ultimate goal."
The group nodded in agreement, a shared understanding of the gravity of their task settling over them. Yet, despite their determination, exhaustion gnawed at them, the day's challenges taking their toll.
As the evening wore on, Harry retreated to his room, Ginny following suit soon after. Ron and Hermione lingered a while longer, stealing a few more moments together in a tender embrace before parting for the night.
The day had proven more demanding than usual, and they knew that the road ahead would only grow more arduous as they pressed on toward their deadline.
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