Chapter Thirteen: New Sensation

Stumbling slightly, Harry let go of Professor Dumbledore's arm and took several deep breaths to fend off a wave of nausea. His second experience with side-along Apparition was hardly better than the first, which only made him more eager to not have to rely on that form of travel.

"You may remove your Cloak now, Harry," said the professor, as Harry righted himself.

"Sir, didn't you say that Apparating under your own power wasn't as bad?" he asked, stuffing his Invisibility Cloak into the pocket of his robe.

"That is indeed the general consensus."

"Will you be teaching me how?"

"Alas, I cannot. Apparition can be quite dangerous without proper instruction; therefore, the Ministry of Magic has some fairly stringent rules regarding it," explained Dumbledore. "In order to legally Apparate, you must first be granted a licence by the Ministry, which you cannot obtain until you are at least seventeen years of age."

"I guess that makes sense," conceded Harry, although he did not hide his disappointment. "It just seems like something I should probably know how to do, considering — well, you know."

"I happen to agree," acknowledged Professor Dumbledore. "However, as headmaster of your school, I am expressly forbidden by the Ministry from teaching you." The professor then turned to Harry, giving him a significant look over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "Having said that," he continued, "I have very little control over what students are taught by their own families — particularly whilst they are home for the holidays."

Smirking slightly, Harry replied, "Understood, sir," before taking a moment to finally inspect his surroundings.

They were standing on a hillside overlooking a shallow river, in the middle of what seemed to have been a small village, though it had clearly been abandoned for many years. Their side of the river was littered with the skeletons of around a half dozen small houses, their roofs long since collapsed, and what remained of their stone walls overgrown with brush and ivy.

Harry peered over the side of the hill and noticed a handful of rotting wooden pilings rising up out of the water, suggesting that a dock had once been there. Looking to his left, an ancient-looking stone bridge reached across the water to the opposite bank, where there were several more dilapidated dwellings. Only a short way down the river from there, he could see the remains of a second, smaller bridge, which must have collapsed at some point.

"Where are we, sir?"

"This, Harry, is what remains of the wizarding settlement once known as Pitt-upon-Ford, on the far side of the Forbidden Forest," revealed Dumbledore. "In my youth, small hamlets such as this were scattered all across the regions surrounding Hogwarts. Alas, most of them have been abandoned for quite some time."

"Why is that?" asked Harry.

"A combination of factors, to be certain," said Dumbledore. "As the muggle population increases, they expand into more and more areas of the country that were once primarily occupied by magicals. Meanwhile, our own population has not kept pace, and in recent years has even dwindled. Over time, the few remaining occupants of these hamlets seemed to decide they would be better off in Hogsmeade, which, as you know, is the only remaining all-wizarding village in Britain."

"Has Hogsmeade changed much since you were in school?" Harry asked curiously.

"In some ways, yes, and in others, no," chuckled Dumbledore. "It does, however, have many more full-time residents than it had in those days. Most of the homes around the outskirts of the village and in the surrounding valley were constructed within the last fifty years."

Harry nodded and gazed up at the mountains guarding the western side of the valley, behind which the sun would soon be vanishing.

"I suppose you are wondering why I have brought you here, and rightfully so, I might add," said Dumbledore. "Simply put, Hogwarts is not the ideal environment for what I have planned for this evening, owing to the high levels of ambient magic within the castle."

"And what is that, sir?"

"I intend to build upon some of Sirius's lessons from the summer," the headmaster replied ambiguously. "It just so happens that we are nearby to another historical structure, which I believe will assist us with our lesson. Come now, we have a bit more walking to do this evening, and by my estimation we have just over an hour of daylight remaining."

With that, Professor Dumbledore started making his way towards the back of the hamlet, with Harry following closely behind.

"I take it that you are now fully adept at feeling and directing your own magic?" enquired Dumbledore, as they walked.

"I think so," replied Harry. Once he had finally figured out what he was doing, controlling his magic had come to him with very little effort, and after the incident with the locket, it had become positively easy.

"Excellent," said Dumbledore. nodding in approval. "If you truly wish to become an exceptional wizard, you will find that being properly attuned to the magic both within you and without you is of critical importance."

"Without me?" repeated Harry, not fully understanding.

"Of course," replied the headmaster, climbing onto a ledge carved into the base of the rocky hill behind the hamlet. "If you can sense your own magic, should you not also be able to sense the magic in the environment, or emanating from other magical beings?" questioned Dumbledore, as Harry scrambled up the ledge behind him.

"I suppose so."

"As you should, especially considering that you have recently experienced such a phenomenon."

Harry was confused for a brief moment, before finally realising what Dumbledore was referring to. "The locket…" he huffed, just as they were starting along a path that appeared to wind its way up the tall hill. "I thought that was only because I had a piece of his soul in my scar. Nobody else noticed anything, even when they were holding it."

"That certainly would have magnified the effect," concurred Dumbledore, "although I believe it likely that the others were mildly affected, albeit on a subconscious level. Detecting foreign magic is not a widely taught skill, and very few would have been able to recognise the locket for what it was," he explained, hopping up onto another small ledge.

Instead of continuing along the path, Dumbledore stopped and waited for Harry. "I would like for you to try something," he said. "Please close your eyes for a moment. Now," he continued, once Harry had complied with his request, "I would like for you to detect my presence using nothing more than your senses."

"Er — all right, I'll try…"

At first, Harry simply remained quiet and waited for something to happen. After a minute had passed and he had felt nothing more than the gentle breeze against his face, he decided to try a different method. After first locating his own magic, he attempted, for lack of a better word, to reach out with it, as he had unconsciously done while in the presence of the locket. When another minute had passed with no sign of progress, Harry opened his eyes and saw that Dumbledore was now standing about two metres to Harry's left.

"I can't do it, Professor," he said with a huff.

"No matter, no matter," said Dumbledore unconcernedly. "It takes uncommon skill to sense a witch or wizard who is not actively producing magic. I was merely curious. I ask that you try once more; only this time, I will be using magic."

With a sigh, Harry nodded and closed his eyes again.

"Relax, Harry. You have already proven that you have the ability — all you lack is the necessary level of awareness. I fully expect you to excel at this skill, once you get the hang of it."

After first taking a calming breath, Harry repeated the same process, attempting to will his magic to find other nearby sources. Nearly a minute passed with no results, and he was on the verge of giving up when he first felt it — a slight warmth off to his right, which hadn't been there a moment before. He focused all his concentration on that spot, and immediately the hair on the back of his neck stood up. This had to be Dumbledore. How had it taken him so long to notice?

Keeping his eyes firmly shut, Harry extended his arm and pointed to his right side — which happened to be exactly where Dumbledore was standing. "Is this you, sir?" he asked.

"Well done, Harry, well done!" the professor proudly proclaimed. "Now, without opening your eyes — are you able to tell me what spell I am currently using?"

"I'm not sure," he replied, screwing up his face in concentration. "It feels…light…not like Lumos, but more like…weightless."

"Open your eyes, Harry."

Harry opened them to see Dumbledore positively beaming at him. The professor had his wand out and was casually levitating a medium sized rock off to the side.

"Wow," said Harry, in awe of himself. "I have no idea how I knew that."

"Simply put, you managed to intuitively decipher the intent of the magic," answered Dumbledore, as he slowly lowered the rock back to the ground.

"But how?"

"There are some things that cannot be fully explained through words, especially when it comes to magic," replied the headmaster. "Sometimes, it is better to simply accept what is and avoid getting too caught up in the question of why."

"Hold on, you said I deciphered the intent of the magic. Don't you mean your intent?"

"Ah — that, Harry, is a most interesting question," said Dumbledore excitedly, his eyes twinkling in the slowly receding daylight. "In my experience, they are one and the same. Magic is indeed a most mysterious force — some would even say it is alive, a sentiment with which I find myself in agreement."

"You mean it has a mind of its own?"

"Not exactly," replied Dumbledore, as they resumed their journey up the path. "Consider plants, for example. We know that they are alive, but that alone does not make them capable of rational thought. They do, however, have instincts which they follow: they grow in the direction of the light, their primary source of sustenance, and their roots probe the ground in search of water. Some, like the Venomous Tentacula, will even physically respond to threats or seek out living prey; a phenomenon which, believe it or not, is not exclusive to magical flora."

"So…you're saying magic follows its own instincts?"

"In some cases, yes," said Dumbledore, "but it also obeys our commands. Having said that, it is my belief that having a true mastery of magic requires one to understand, and even embrace the near-symbiotic relationship that exists between magic, and the one who commands it."

"That's…fascinating, sir. I've never heard magic described that way."

"If you are interested in further dialogue regarding the nature of magic, then I suggest you speak with Professor Flitwick. He is perhaps more passionate about the subject than anyone I have ever met. Ah, here we are —"

They had come to the end of the path and arrived at a sheer rock face. Nestled up against it was a series of large stone slabs, which were arranged in such a way as to resemble an enormous staircase. With a sudden display of agility that defied his age, Dumbledore hoisted himself onto the lowest slab and proceeded to leap over to the next one.

Harry just smiled and shook his head before following after him. "Sir…how come we don't learn stuff like this at Hogwarts?" he asked. "You know, everything you just said about magic."

"Your N.E.W.T.-level Charms and Transfiguration classes will touch on it to a degree, but for the most part, Hogwarts curriculum is focused on teaching young witches and wizards how to use magic both practically and safely," explained Dumbledore, as he leapt to the next stone. "Studies regarding the more esoteric aspects of magic are typically reserved for career scholars, or perhaps even some mastery students. Fascinating though the topic may be, many would have difficulty in grasping the concepts, and few would have any real use for such knowledge."

"Yeah, I could kind of see that," replied Harry, smirking at the thought of Crabbe and Goyle struggling to comprehend a lecture on deep magical theory.

After a few more jumps, Harry found himself standing on a flat, grass-covered outcropping, that almost looked as if it had been intentionally sculpted away from the rock face. They had apparently reached the end of their journey, as there was no visible way to continue on from there.

"Now, for the next part of this evening's lesson, I would like for you to identify our path forward," instructed Dumbledore, stepping aside to give Harry room to work.

Harry nodded and moved in closer to the rocky wall. "Okay, he obviously wants me to detect some sort of magic," he said to himself, running one hand along the surface of the wall. He had nearly reached the end when he felt a slight tingling at the tips of his fingers.

"There's something here," he said thoughtfully, focusing on the feeling. "Something's…hiding."

"Very good," said Dumbledore approvingly. "What else can you tell me?"

Harry frowned and refocused his concentration on the wall. "Something about it feels…familiar," he muttered after a moment. "Sir…did you cast a concealment spell here?"

"Excellent, Harry! I was not certain whether you would be able to recognise my magical signature, and I must say that I am most pleasantly surprised," Dumbledore proudly admitted. "You should be able to easily dispel the charm I placed over the entrance, if you would be so kind."

Shrugging, Harry tapped his wand over the spot where he sensed Dumbledore's magic and muttered, "Finite."

The wall shimmered for a moment before the charm faded away, revealing an obviously man-made stretch of wall set amid the natural rock. In the centre of the wall was a heavy wrought-iron gate set within a small, arched doorway. Harry wordlessly cast the Unlocking Charm, and the gate swung open to reveal a narrow tunnel.

Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed that the headmaster had already lit the tip of his wand in anticipation of the next leg of their journey. Following suit, Harry ignited his wand and led them into the tunnel. The walls were roughly hewn out of the solid rock, but the tunnel appeared sturdy enough to alleviate any fears of potential cave-ins.

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me where this tunnel leads, are you?"

"I could, but where would be the fun in that?" replied Dumbledore, a hint of amusement in his voice.

The carved tunnel eventually gave way to a natural cave formation, which they exited through a small fissure set into the side of the rocky hill. They followed the wide pathway leading from the cave and soon came to a high bluff overlooking a river, which Harry assumed was the same one that ran through the abandoned hamlet.

"Sir, where —" started Harry, only to notice that Dumbledore had stopped and was looking behind them up the hill. Following the headmaster's gaze, Harry looked up and nearly gasped at what he saw. Set atop the hill were the ruins of a castle — not nearly as big as Hogwarts, of course, but large enough to still be impressive. He hadn't been able to see it from their vantage point on the other side of the tunnel, but now, it was impossible to miss.

They were standing at the base of an ancient stone staircase, which was now so worn that it more closely resembled a ramp. The exterior walls of the castle had almost entirely deteriorated, but Harry could see the top of a large tower looming at the end furthest from them. The tower itself looked mostly intact, even though the topmost spire seemed to have collapsed in on itself at some point.

"What is this place?" enquired Harry, still a bit awestruck.

"There is much history in this part of the country, and in my youth, I spent more than one summer exploring the area," explained Dumbledore, as he began climbing the worn staircase. "I found this particular location most intriguing and attempted to learn about it myself, but I found little in the way of solid facts. It was, however, rumoured amongst the locals of Pitt-upon-Ford that this castle once belonged to a well-known Hogwarts professor from the fifteenth century."

"Do you think it's true?" asked Harry, taking the stairs two at a time until he caught up with Dumbledore.

"There are signs that there may be some truth to the rumours. If nothing else, I am certain that an uncommonly skilled witch or wizard had a hand in constructing this castle — which brings us to why we are here."

Dumbledore stopped and turned towards Harry, as they had reached the top of the stairs.

"This will be our final lesson of the day. Please examine the castle and tell me what magic you can detect."

"It's weird," said Harry, after a solid minute of trying to decipher what he was feeling. "There's definitely something here — I can almost hear it, like a low hum in the background, but I can't make out what it is."

"Try feeling one of the more complete sections of wall," the headmaster suggested.

Harry did as directed, which only seemed to stump him further. "I don't get it," he said distractedly. "I feel like it's telling me 'No', but I have no idea why."

"My, that is an interesting interpretation," declared Dumbledore, more than a little amused by Harry's explanation. "You are essentially correct, however. What you are detecting are enchantments designed to prevent Apparition, which is one of the reasons we did not come here directly — the other, of course, being the opportunity to partake in a rather instructional adventure."

Harry snorted in amusement. "It has been a good one, sir," he said. "I'm kind of surprised there would still be enchantments on something this old, though."

"Another astute observation," said Dumbledore. "To have such enchantments persist long after the structure has collapsed indicates that the spells were actually woven into the construction itself, rather than being cast over the completed castle — no mean feat, I assure you."

"Which supports the rumours of it once belonging to a famous professor," added Harry, with dawning comprehension.

"Indeed," concurred the professor. "Come, let us take a quick look around with our few remaining minutes of daylight," he said, slipping through a slight gap in what remained of the outer walls to enter what was left of the castle.

Harry was surprised, and a bit disappointed to learn that the outer walls were essentially all that remained of the castle, aside from the tall tower that rose above the keep. There were no rooms to speak of, let alone a roof; the interior was mostly an open space, with the exception of a few piles of loose stone and other assorted debris.

"I wonder how that tower is still standing," Harry wondered aloud. "I mean, it's definitely seen better days, but it's in a lot better shape than the rest of the place."

"I once found myself pondering that very same question," revealed Dumbledore. "By all means, go investigate for yourself. I shall be interested to hear your conclusions."

Harry walked towards the bridge that led to the keep, gazing up at the tall tower silhouetted against the red sky. He understood why Dumbledore had been drawn to this place — there was something both mysterious and inherently magical about it. After crossing the bridge, he examined the set of large, wooden doors marking the entrance to the keep, which refused to budge no matter what he tried.

After several frustrating minutes that ate up their last vestiges of daylight, Harry finally admitted defeat and walked back to Professor Dumbledore. Fortunately, there had been a full moon the previous evening, so the night sky still provided enough light for him to see where he was going.

"Nothing at all," he said to the headmaster, who had been looking at him expectantly. "The doors definitely won't open, and I couldn't feel any trace of magic at all."

"I cannot say that I am surprised," replied Dumbledore. "I myself have attempted to solve the riddle, but I had no more success than you did this evening." At seeing Harry's look of surprise, he continued, "Oh yes, and I tried every single spell and method I could think of. I am convinced that there is some sort of magic at work here, yet it is of a kind we do not have the means to understand."

Turning to look up at the tower one last time, he added, "While I admit to initially being frustrated by this, I now tend to think of it as a useful reminder that some mysteries are simply not meant to be solved."

Harry wasn't sure how to respond, so he simply nodded. Professor Dumbledore had a fascinating perspective on life and magic, and Harry was beginning to realise that he would be gaining far more from their lessons than simply improving his spellwork.

"This concludes our lesson for today; I do hope you found it both riveting and beneficial," quipped Dumbledore.

"It was great, sir. Thank you," Harry said sincerely.

"I must say that you exceeded even my own expectations," said the professor. "The ability to accurately detect magic is highly dependent on experience — by that I mean being able to recognise magic you've come across in the past and identify it for what it is. Your ability to intuitively grasp the intent behind the spells you perceive gives you quite an advantage."

"Is that not normal?"

"It is uncommon, though certainly not unheard of," Dumbledore assured him. "I daresay you have the makings of a fine curse-breaker, were you so inclined."

"Maybe I'll think about it," Harry said thoughtfully.

"I am certain you will have an abundance of career opportunities to choose from, when the time comes," Dumbledore assured him, "but for now, I believe we should be getting back to Hogwarts. Come now, we must get a short distance away from this place before we can Apparate back to Hogsmeade."

Harry groaned at the reminder of side-along Apparition. He really couldn't wait until he could do it on his own.

oOoOoOo

If there were any downsides to being able to perceive the magic in one's environment, the biggest one had to be how easy it was to feel overwhelmed, especially living in a highly magical place such as Hogwarts.

Harry barely slept the night after his first lesson with Dumbledore. Part of that was due to how late he stayed up recounting every detail of his evening to Ron and Hermione (but mostly Hermione). The main cause, however, was the odd buzzing sensation that continued to assault his senses. It took him half the night to realise it, but he eventually determined that the source of his problem was the constant hum of magic in the background.

While he was with Dumbledore, Harry needed to focus both his concentration and his magic before he could successfully detect anything, but being back at Hogwarts was a completely different story. The environment was so saturated with magic that he couldn't not sense it. After spending a sleepless hour trying to understand why — considering he'd never noticed anything before — he ultimately concluded that it was something akin to muscle memory, and that his body and magic had simply adapted.

Much of the following day was spent alternating between curiously using his new skills everywhere around the castle and trying to shut out the omnipresent drone of ambient magic. While his efforts at the latter were moderately successful at best, he was at least able to fall asleep that night.

Feeling much better rested, Harry mentally prepared himself for what had once been his least favourite class, prior to Umbridge's appointment — double Potions with the Slytherins. They had been back at school for nearly two weeks, and so far, Malfoy had miraculously avoided instigating any unpleasantness towards Harry. Of course, Malfoy being Malfoy, he still mocked others at every possible opportunity, but as of yet, none of his bile had been directed towards Harry specifically.

Outwardly, it might have appeared that Malfoy had taken Harry's warning on the train to heart, but Harry knew it was only a matter of time before his blonde nemesis reverted to form. It was that very thought which occupied his mind as he waited just outside the Potions classroom with Ron and Hermione — that is, until he was distracted by the arrival of another blonde Slytherin.

Daphne moved to join the rest of the Slytherins, settling into a spot against the wall between Tracey Davis and Pansy Parkinson, though she didn't acknowledge either girl. Her expression remained completely impassive, even though Harry thought he saw her eyes briefly narrow when she noticed he was watching her.

Ever since Astoria had mentioned it to him, Harry had been pondering the best way to ask Daphne if she'd like to resume training with him. To that end, he now held a tiny scrap of parchment in the pocket of his robes, upon which was written a vague, anonymous note inviting her to the seventh floor that evening, to 'continue where they left off over the summer'.

Whether she would take him up on it or not was anyone's guess; to be honest, he mainly just hoped she wouldn't curse him simply for asking. If nothing else, he was smart enough to avoid using either of their names in the note, so he figured she couldn't be too angry. The real challenge was figuring out how to inconspicuously get the note into her possession.

Just as Harry was brainstorming ideas, Professor Snape opened the door to the classroom and summoned them all inside. The man looked as unpleasant as ever, wearing his customary all-black robes, along with the expression of a man who would rather be anywhere other than teaching children.

The students quietly filed inside, and Harry took his seat next to Ron at their usual table. Slightly out of the ordinary was the fact that Malfoy and Nott chose to sit together at the table directly behind Harry. Even more suspiciously, the two Slytherins seemed to be going out of their way to ignore him, which immediately put Harry on high alert.

Once they were all seated, Professor Snape strode to the front of the class and surveyed them all with a look of distaste.

"Today you will be preparing a Befuddlement Draught," the professor said in his drawling voice. "As you should know from your reading, a properly brewed Befuddlement Draught will cause the drinker to immediately become reckless and belligerent. Of course, the effects may be magnified if drunk by someone already inclined to such foolishness," he added, with a sneer directed at Harry. "The instructions are on the board," he continued, revealing the recipe with a wave of his wand. "You have one hour. Begin."

Rolling his eyes, Harry walked over to the store cupboard to collect his ingredients. Snape's latest attempt to goad him was so weak that Harry was almost disappointed. Perhaps the slimy git's heart just wasn't in it — that, or Harry had grown so accustomed to ignoring Umbridge's taunts that Snape's rather juvenile barb had barely registered.

On the way back, he noticed that Daphne was working without a partner. Taking a slight detour down the aisle behind her table, he slid his hand into his pocket and grabbed hold of the note he had written. Half the class was still up and moving about, providing plenty of distraction, while Daphne's attention was focused on carefully counting out sneezewort petals. Doubting he'd get a better opportunity, Harry pulled out the scrap of parchment and dropped it into her open bag as he passed.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Daphne eyeing him suspiciously. Cringing inwardly, Harry turned and hurried back to his own station.

"Guess I'm not as subtle as I thought…" he said to himself. "At least she had the sense not to say anything."

Fortunately, nobody else seemed to notice their interaction, so Harry returned to his station without incident. On his way back, he noticed Malfoy and Nott whispering to each other, only to separate as soon as Harry was within earshot. They were definitely up to something, and Harry had a pretty good idea who their intended target was.

Now on high alert, Harry began chopping up a handful of scurvy grass while subtly attempting to get Ron's attention. "Ron," he hissed quietly, leaning slightly closer.

"Hmm?"

Ron had been fiddling with the fire for the last few minutes and hadn't noticed anything.

"Don't look, but I think Malfoy and Nott are going to try something," whispered Harry, dropping a pinch of dried lovage leaves into their cauldron.

"You sure?" Ron whispered back, his brows furrowed slightly.

"Almost positive."

"All right — what do we do?"

"Not much we can do — just try to keep an eye on them."

They continued working on their Befuddlement Draught, while also trying their best to eavesdrop on the two Slytherins behind them. Halfway through class, Snape began wandering through the room inspecting peoples' potions, stopping once he got to Ron and Harry's. He glared at each of them in turn, and then leaned over their cauldron and sniffed distastefully.

"Another pathetic attempt, Potter," drawled Snape, before addressing the class. "I shouldn't have to remind you all of this, but for the dunderheads in this class —" Snape fixed his gaze on Harry, gracing him with a familiar sneer. "— the ingredients in this potion can become highly corrosive when brewed improperly. Unless you wish to spend your weekend in the hospital wing, I recommend paying closer attention to what you are doing."

Professor Snape certainly wasn't above insulting Harry's work for no reason, but this time he actually had a point. Their potion was smoking slightly, and it was nowhere near the dark green colour described by the book. Harry and Ron's performance in Snape's class had never been stellar to begin with, but having their attention focused more on Malfoy and Nott than on their potion definitely hadn't helped.

With one last scowl directed at Ron and Harry's cauldron, Snape turned and started walking back to the front of the class. Harry had just opened his book to see if he could figure out a way to salvage their potion when he felt it. Out of nowhere, there was a pulse of magic from behind him, and acting on pure instinct, Harry spun to his left just in time to avoid the spell rushing towards his back.

The spell soared between Ron and Harry and collided with their still-smoking cauldron, causing it to fly off their table and go careening onto the floor, but not before slinging its contents high into the air. It all seemed to happen in slow motion, as a stream of scalding, brownish liquid arced across the classroom, directly towards Hermione and Neville's table.

Harry, who had automatically gone for his wand the moment he felt the spell, did the first thing he could think of and sent a Banishing Charm at Hermione, hurling her into Neville and out of harm's way, and not a moment too soon. Even a second later, and the wayward potion would have covered her from head to toe — which would have been very bad news, considering the table immediately began smoking.

"Potter! What did you do?" roared Snape as he came charging across the room, sparing a glance at Hermione and Neville as they picked themselves up off the floor.

"Me?" Harry shouted incredulously. "Bloody Malfoy tried to curse me in the back, but his aim is so pathetic he hit my cauldron instead!"

"He's lying, Professor!" said Malfoy, naturally denying any wrongdoing.

Professor Snape vanished the spilled potion before picking up and examining the cauldron. Even from his vantage point, Harry could clearly see the black scorch mark where the spell connected.

"And why are you so certain it was Mr. Malfoy?" Snape enquired silkily. "Did you see him cast the spell?"

"No — but if it wasn't him, it was Nott. The spell came from behind me, and they're the only ones there."

Snape's eyes flitted towards the Slytherin duo before refocusing on Harry. "Perhaps…" he drawled. "However, your pathetic brewing skills are just as responsible for endangering your classmates — I warned you about the importance of paying attention with this potion. Ten points from Gryffindor for your ineptitude, and you and Mr. Weasley will receive zero marks for the day."

Harry's jaw dropped at the absolute unfairness of it all. Snape favouring his own house was hardly a new development, but this was beyond ridiculous. He opened his mouth to protest, but Snape immediately cut him off.

"Silence! You and Weasley will escort Longbottom and Miss Granger to the hospital wing for evaluation, and I expect twelve inches of parchment by Monday detailing where you went wrong with your Befuddlement Draught."

"That's not fair!" shouted Ron. "What does Malfoy get for trying to curse Harry?"

"That is none of your concern, Weasley," spat Snape. "Another word and you'll find yourself in detention. Go!"

Fuming, Harry and Ron packed up their things and moved to join Hermione and Neville, who were both waiting for them by the door. On his way over, he spotted Malfoy and Nott smirking at him out of the corner of his eye and had to suppress the urge to curse them both on the spot.

"You all right, Hermione? Neville?" Harry asked them, attempting to push the Slytherins out of his mind.

"We're fine, thanks to you," Hermione reassured him. "Let's just go."

Harry nodded, and the four Gryffindors left Snape's classroom and began making their way out of the dungeons.

"That stupid, greasy twat!" Ron spat, as they marched down the corridor. "I can't believe the git had the nerve to punish us instead of Malfoy!"

"I'm just glad no one was hurt," said Hermione. "That could've been really bad. Are you sure the spell wasn't meant for the cauldron in the first place? I'm not sure how the spell could have missed, as close as they were."

"It was definitely meant for me; it only hit the cauldron because I moved out of the way," grumbled Harry. He couldn't tell exactly what spell it was, but the ill intent he felt was enough to tell him it would have been extremely unpleasant to be hit with it.

"How did you dodge it, by the way?" Ron asked curiously. "I had no idea what was even happening until it was all over."

"I told you they were up to something; I was just paying close attention and felt the spell coming," explained Harry. "That's at least partially why our potion was so bad — I was more focused on Malfoy and Nott."

"Whoa, you actually felt the spell before you saw it?" asked Neville, in awestruck tone. "I didn't know you could do that, Harry. That's really advanced stuff."

"It's a recent development," replied Harry, waving him off. "That reminds me though, we're going to be doing some Defence Against the Dark Arts practice on our own, seeing as how Umbridge is so useless. Do you want to join us?"

"Me?" said Neville, with a hint of disbelief. "Sure, I wouldn't mind the extra practice, but I'm afraid I might be a lost cause."

"I'll be the judge of that," Harry informed him. "We'll get started sometime this weekend, but don't tell anybody else — we're keeping it quiet for now."

"All right. Thanks, Harry."

"Don't mention it."

Neville nodded his understanding, looking rather pleased with the development. He started to turn the corner towards the hospital wing, when Hermione stopped them.

"Honestly, I don't know about Neville, but I don't actually need to go to the hospital wing. I think Professor Snape just wanted us out of there, anyway," she huffed. "Would any of you mind if we just went back to the common room? I really want to get started on my Arithmancy homework."

Naturally, there were no objections and the four struck a new path towards Gryffindor Tower. Their extended walk gave Harry plenty of time to stew over what happened.

He decided that it didn't matter which one of the Slytherins actually cast the spell — there was absolutely no way Harry was going to take things lying down. Both Malfoy and Nott's fathers were Death Eaters, and with all evidence suggesting that their useless spawn were planning on following in their footsteps, he didn't see how he had any choice.

He thought he had made his intentions clear with Malfoy on the train, but perhaps he hadn't stressed it enough. While Harry never expected Draco to remained cowed forever, he certainly hadn't expected such a brazen attack, and in front of a teacher, no less — even if Snape was the teacher in question. No, it was clear that Malfoy needed to be taught another lesson — Nott, too. All Harry needed was the right opportunity.

oOoOoOo

Leaning against the wall outside the Room of Requirement, Harry opened up the Marauder's Map and spoke the familiar passphrase. After a few moments of scanning the Slytherin side of the Great Hall, he saw Daphne's dot moving away from the table and figured he had about ten minutes before she arrived, if she decided to come at all. He adjusted his Invisibility Cloak to make sure he was still fully covered, and then allowed his mind to wander back to his unusual encounter just before dinner.

It happened just outside the Great Hall. He was already in a foul mood after another brutal lesson with Umbridge — one in which she lamented the state of their country, where 'liars and dissidents' could get away with bad-mouthing fine, upstanding members of their society, i.e., rich pure-bloods. Catching two separate groups of Hufflepuffs gossiping about him on the way to dinner did nothing to improve his state of mind, either. Focused as he was on his own problems, it was no wonder he was so easily wrong-footed when Cho Chang had called out to him for the second time in as many weeks.

"Hey, Harry."

Harry stopped and turned around, Ron and Hermione still right beside him.

"Hmm…oh, hey Cho," he replied, sounding like someone who had unexpectedly lost their train of thought.

"Hi — erm — how are you?" she said, somewhat thrown off by his unenthusiastic greeting.

"We'll see you inside, Harry," said Hermione, dragging a confused-looking Ron through the double doors.

"Wonderful," Harry responded dryly, in response to Cho's question. "I was just thinking about today's illuminating Defence lesson."

Cho made a face. "She's just awful, isn't she?" she complained. "Yesterday she even mentioned…Cedric…in class. Something about his death being suspicious…"

"She what?" Harry said sharply. "What else did she say?"

"I don't remember exactly," she replied, wiping her eyes while looking down at her feet. "I was kind of upset…she didn't mention you specifically, but a couple people seemed to think she was implying you had something to do with it…"

"Unbelievable…" he murmured, rubbing his hand across his face.

"I know, it's horrible," Cho agreed sadly. "I'm sure nobody believes it, though…at least I don't think so."

"Right, I'm sure," muttered Harry, feeling far less optimistic than Cho.

"Anyway…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you with that, it's just…never mind," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I was just wondering if we could talk sometime…"

"Er — yeah…I don't think I'd make very good company at the moment, but I'm free most of the day Saturday. I just have Quidditch practice in the morning."

"We're practicing in the afternoon," she replied with a slight grin. "How about after?"

"That should be fine."

"Great! We should be done by 3:30 or so. Why don't we meet by the fountain next to the practice lawn?"

After Harry nodded in agreement, Cho smiled and said goodbye before going inside to join the Ravenclaws at their House table. His mood slightly improved, Harry made to turn back towards the Great Hall but stopped when a group of Slytherin girls walked by. Most of them ignored him — the lone exception being Daphne, who subtly rolled her eyes at him as she passed.

Shaking off the memory, Harry sighed and checked the map again, mostly just to have something to do.

There had been something missing from his brief conversations with Cho this year, and he had only just figured out what it was. Harry had fancied her — mostly from afar — for the better part of the last two years. He had even asked her to the Yule Ball, only to find out that she'd already agreed to go with Cedric. This year, however, the familiar swooping sensation in his stomach was conspicuously absent when he spoke to her, and he definitely hadn't stumbled over his words like he had the year before.

Whatever the cause, something had obviously changed. He still thought she was exceptionally pretty, but for some reason, he no longer envisioned himself with her. It was almost disappointing, in a way, but he would at least be glad to put some of his more embarrassing moments behind him.

The sound of footsteps in the corridor shook Harry out of his reverie, and he looked to his right just in time to see Daphne rounding the corner. She had a wary expression on her face, as if she were half expecting his invitation to be part of some elaborate setup. Chuckling slightly, Harry pulled back the hood of his Cloak and quietly called out to her.

"Psst…Daphne, down here."

She jumped a bit at his startling appearance, but then her expression cleared.

"That was some note, Potter," she smirked. "If I didn't know any better, I would've thought you were propositioning me."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well it's a good thing you do know better," he replied, somehow successfully preventing himself from blushing.

"I couldn't agree more," she quipped. "You know we can't be seen together, so what's this all about?"

"I was as clear as I could be in the note. I found a place where we can keep practicing like we did over the summer, without risk of being caught."

"What, this empty corridor? Are you mental?" she scoffed. "I'm sorry, but I expected more from legendary rule-breaker Harry Potter."

"No, not the corridor," he grinned. "Trust me, it's exactly what we need, but I need to know if you're in or not before I show you."

Daphne looked at him appraisingly. "Fine, I'm in," she said, "but only if I find your venue satisfactory."

"Then step into my office, Miss Greengrass," he said wryly, and then paced back and forth across the wall while picturing his usual training spot.

Daphne was just starting to wonder if Harry had well and truly lost his mind when the door to the Room of Requirement materialised before her very eyes. Harry opened the door and ushered her inside, which led to a full explanation of the Room and its remarkable capabilities.

"So, this is what the Room gave you when you asked for a place to train?" she asked, pulling a spellbook off the shelf.

"More or less," answered Harry. "The decorations and furniture were mostly Astoria's idea."

Daphne spun around and fixed her gaze on Harry.

"Astoria's already been here?"

"Just the one time," he clarified. "We were together when I found out about the Room. It was the day she helped me get my Firebolt back — thanks for that, by the way."

"I'd be happy to borrow it again anytime, but don't change the subject. What exactly were you doing with my sister while the two of you were up here, all alone in your secret room?"

"Come on Daphne, you know it's not like that."

"How can I be sure? Didn't I just see you downstairs chatting up Chang?"

"I don't see what that has to do with anything," argued Harry. "And I was not chatting her up. She just came up to talk to me about something."

"Oh?" said Daphne, arching one eyebrow. "Are you saying you weren't interested?"

"I'm not," denied Harry, shaking his head emphatically. "Well…not anymore, at least," he added sheepishly, causing Daphne to look at him curiously.

"That's good," she eventually replied, apparently having decided he was telling the truth. "I definitely would've questioned your judgment if you thought it was a good idea to date someone who was obviously still in love with a dead man."

"I know," said Harry, now rubbing his temples. "That's not it, though. It's…I don't even know, it's hard to explain."

"I honestly don't care — it's not like it's any of my business anyway," she responded flatly. "I've told you before, I don't care what you do as long as it doesn't affect me or my family. Just remember there are two very important things I asked of you when it comes to Astoria."

"Don't worry, I won't forget," he replied, thinking back to their conversation in the cabin.

"See that you don't," said Daphne, and a slightly uncomfortable silence fell between them.

"Well, now that's out of the way," Harry said after a moment, drawing his wand and moving to the centre of the room, "why don't we do what we actually came here to do?"

"Love to," she replied confidently, sliding her own wand out of her sleeve. "I practiced every day after you left, so be ready for a challenge."

"Can't wait," he grinned, while waiting for her to move into position. "Ready when you are."

Daphne lined up across from him and raised her wand, while Harry held his at the ready but otherwise didn't move. He was feeling fairly confident and was interested to see what she had planned. His only clue that she was about to cast was a slight shift in her stance, but that was all the time he needed.

"Stupefy!" Daphne called out, immediately following up with, "Flipendo!"

Her aim was true, but both spells splashed harmlessly against Harry's silent Protego.

Daphne scowled and sent another Stunner in Harry's direction. This time, instead of shielding, he slid to his left and countered with a Stunner aimed directly at her chest, followed by a silent Expelliarmus aimed just to the left of where she was standing, already knowing which direction she tended to dodge.

As predicted, Daphne quickly moved to her right to avoid Harry's Stunner and stepped directly into his Disarming Charm. Her wand flew out of her hand and into Harry's, who simply looked back at her with a self-satisfied smile.

"You…you…" she spluttered indignantly, her outrage written all over her face. "How? How are you even better than before?"

"I've been practicing too," he replied simply. "I can tell you've gotten better, though. Your spells were faster, and your aim was dead-on."

"For all the good it did," Daphne responded gruffly, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face.

Harry walked over and handed her wand back to her. "I think that was a good lesson in how much of an advantage nonverbal magic can be in a duel," he said. "You didn't even know that second spell was coming, did you?"

"No," she huffed. "I should have, though. When did you learn to cast silently?"

"Pretty recently, actually," he admitted. "I can't do it with every spell, but I'm making progress. I'll give you some tips, but it really is something you need to get the hang of on your own."

Daphne nodded, but otherwise she just stood there with her arms crossed. Harry could tell she was frustrated with her performance, which definitely wasn't going to make their session any more productive.

"Listen," he started, "it wasn't just practice. Something happened to me a few weeks ago…I can't really go into detail, but I'm a lot better at magic now because of it. I also had someone teaching me how to duel — someone who really knows what they're doing."

Daphne was obviously curious, but she didn't ask him to elaborate.

"Once I show you what I learned, I bet you'll catch up to me in no time."

"I don't need your pity, Harry," she responded icily, "but I'll still take you up on your offer."

"I thought you might," he replied, walking over to the table where he had set his bag. "There's also this," he added, pulling out the book Sirius had given him, before tapping it with his wand to remove the charm he used to disguise it. "Someone gave me this at the end of the summer — some of the spells in here make the ones in your book look like Tickling Hexes."

Suddenly intrigued, Daphne strode over to table and started flipping through the book. "Where did you get this?" she asked curiously.

"Friend of the family," said Harry, purposely avoiding the question. "You're the only other person I'm showing this to, so don't say anything."

"Of course," she replied dismissively. "Have you tried any of these spells yet?"

"Some," he confirmed. "So far they work just as advertised."

"Want to try some now?" she asked with a sly grin.

Harry snorted in response. "Fine," he said, "but let's have another practice duel first. The last one was over so fast it didn't even count as a warm-up."

Daphne's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"This time I won't even use nonverbal spells — that should almost make it fair," he added tauntingly.

"Oh, you are so going to get it, Potter," she smirked before racing back to her starting position. Harry grinned and took out his wand. Practicing with training dummies was decent enough, but nothing got the blood flowing like duelling with a live partner.