~An Emerald amongst a Sea of Stone~
Chapter Five
Harry lowered himself into the seat next to Blaise. It was Thursday, and that marked their first Potions class of the week - something his Italian roommate had been much looking forward to.
Harry himself was only moderately curious. He was… good with recipes and seeing as he had gone through a fair few books detailing the Healing Arts already, he likely had an advantage over the other first years in terms of knowledge as well.
Nevertheless, he was quite certain that Potions would be more difficult than his other classes had proven to be so far. A good thing, he supposed.
From what he'd heard, the Gryffindors, who he coincidentally shared today's period with, supposedly had a hard time in Snape's class. But that hardly mattered to him, after all.
There he is.
His classmates' mutters quieted, as the door to the laboratory swung open and the Professor strode inside. Unsurprisingly, he was clad in midnight-black robes, and a cloak of the same colour, a trademark sneer gracing his features.
Snape allowed his sharp gaze to brush over the class. To no one's surprise, he didn't even bother with pleasantries.
'There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. I do not expect many of you to appreciate the exact art that is potion-making. But for those select few…'
His eyes rested on the Slytherin side of the class.
'Who possess the talent for this subtle art… I will be able to teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and perhaps,' He paused. 'Even put a stopper on death.'
Very dramatic.
'Weasley!' Snape called suddenly.
The freckled, red-haired boy sitting next to Longbottom stiffened.
'Yes, sir?'
'What,' Snape drawled. 'Is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?'
Weasley gulped. 'I… I don't know, sir.'
That was in the second chapter of our book…
Snape raised an eyebrow. 'A… pity.'
Harry heard Malfoy and Parkinson quietly snigger behind him. The Professor's gaze shifted to Weasley's right.
'Mr. Longbottom.' The man eyed the brown-haired Gryffindor. 'Our new… celebrity. Perhaps you will be able to enlighten us as to the answer?'
Longbottom nodded, seemingly swallowing the irritation he felt at the Professor's comment. 'There's no difference between the two. They're the same plant - also known as aconite amongst Herbologists,' he answered quickly.
'That is…' Snape's sneer rose. 'Correct.'
The Professor's gaze wandered away. 'Mr Malfoy,' he called, glancing right over Harry's head. 'Please tell me… What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?'
'Draught of Living Death, Professor,' the blonde boy answered smugly.
Snape nodded, the mildest of smirks on his face. 'Five points to Slytherin,' he nodded, before quieting for a moment.
'Potter!' he snapped suddenly.
'Yes, sir?' Harry responded, not particularly caught off guard.
'What medical potion is commonly used to mend bones?' he asked.
Harry frowned inwardly. That had not been in their first year potions book. He answered nevertheless.
'Skele-Gro, Professor.'
Snape nodded slowly - seemingly almost disappointed. 'Indeed…' he agreed.
He turned around, a frown forming on Harry's forehead. The only reason I knew that is because of my extracurricular research. He tested me…
With a wave of his wand the Professor summoned a blackboard from the side of the classroom. On it, was written the recipe for the boil-cure - the first potion in the book, as Harry recounted.
'You will be brewing the Cure for Boils in pairs of two. It is the simplest potion in your book and shall prove as a… test of your abilities. Should your attempt fail, I will grade it accordingly. The instructions are on the board. You have one hour. Begin.'
Hastily, the students reached for their potions ingredients and pulled their Potion books from their bags.
'We can use my ingredients,' Blaise offered. 'I get mine directly from Mother's supplier. They're probably purer than anything you got from the apothecary.'
Harry shrugged. 'Works for me. I'll get us a cauldron.'
He strode over towards the right side of the laboratory, where on shelves upon shelves, cauldrons of the most varying materials and colours rested. He spotted a particularly clean brass one, before raising his wand.
'Wingardium Leviosa,' he incanted softly.
He felt the Professor's stare drill into the back of his head - but if Snape minded, he didn't say anything.
As Harry's spell connected with the cauldron, he suddenly felt his stomach plummet to the ground. Blinking, but not letting go of the spell, he allowed the heavy piece of metal to hover off the shelf.
A 50 pound kettle is bound to be more difficult to levitate than a book… Should've thought about that earlier.
He levitated the kettle towards his and Blaise's shared desk, where his roommate had already begun chopping what Harry assumed to be some Horned Slugs. He noticed a couple of the Gryffindors stare at him in surprise.
Blaise merely raised an eyebrow. 'Your trips to the library were worth it, as it seems,' he commented with a hint of amusement.
'Indeed,' Harry agreed with a faint smile.
He reached for the flask of standard brewing water and popped its cork. Blaise shot him a side-eye.
'Just use two gallons. Makes the potion less prone to bubble over,' he told him.
The recipe called for two and a half, but Harry decided to trust Blaise on the matter. He poured the reduced amount and turned towards the Italian.
'Why does the recipe list more?' he asked.
Blaise smiled. 'Most people tend to oversaturate the potion, which makes it cause boils instead of curing them. The recipe merely adjusts for the average student's incompetence. More water means higher dilution.'
Harry's nodded in understanding. 'Your mother taught you, I assume?' he asked.
Blaise nodded. 'Mother and Allessandro. He's a family friend,' he explained. 'Our family owns a handful of potions businesses and Mother even has a mastery in the subject.'
'Oh,' Harry commented. 'You certainly know what you're doing then.'
The Italian grinned. 'Would you mind adding the slugs? Just do thirteen stirs instead of twelve after that.'
Harry shrugged. 'Sure.'
He scraped the diced slugs off the board and lowered them into the kettle, careful not to let anything spill over. Then, as Blaise had recommended, he stirred thirteen times.
Probably has something to do with arithmancy. Three, Seven, and Thirteen were supposed to be powerful magical numbers, after all.
The pair fell into a comfortable rhythm as the class went on. Blaise prepared the ingredients and made comments on how to deviate from the standard recipe, while Harry watched over the potion itself. As the lesson seemed to be nearing its end, he noticed that they were the first ones finished.
Their boil cure had the same exact glistening, silvery-blue shade as the one depicted in the book, and simmered contently over a weak flame. Blaise raised his arm to signify that they were done.
Snape strode over towards their desk to inspect the potion. He nodded in approval.
'A… perfect attempt, Zabini. Potter. Fifteen points to-'
BANG!
'Ahhhh!'
Harry turned around. One of the Gryffindors seemed to have spilled an entire kettle of potion over his robes. Only - the liquid trickling down his robes was a murky green instead of the supposed silvery-blue. Immediately, massive, red boils started to appear all over his skin.
'FINNEGAN!' Snape growled, his eyes flicking to the boy's partner. 'Thomas! Accompany him to the Hospital Wing! Twenty points from Gryffindor for this incompetence!'
Thomas nodded frantically, and Harry heard Malfoy snigger once more. The duo of Gryffindors stormed out of the laboratory, and Snape vanished what remained of the spilled potion.
'Imbeciles,' the man muttered, vanishing the spilled potion before turning towards Harry and Blaise once more. 'Fifteen points to Slytherin for a perfect boil cure. You may leave after bottling your draught.'
The two boys didn't hesitate to pack up their belongings and cork up their potion. Harry noticed Malfoy's irritated expression as he passed the boy's table and headed out of the laboratory.
'Charms next,' Blaise said as they exited the classroom.
Harry nodded. 'Yes.'
This would be their third Charms lesson of the week and they were yet to do any magic. Harry had tried to pay attention - mostly in respect to Professor Flitwick - but if things continued this way, he seriously had to consider just reading a book during the class in the future.
'You think he'll finally teach us Lumos today?' Blaise asked.
Harry shrugged. 'Maybe.'
It was not like he cared. After all, he had already succeeded in casting the spell earlier this week.
He sighed. The spells in the first year book came so incredibly easy to him, that he had even borrowed the Volume Two from the library yesterday - in hopes that the magic in there would provide more of a challenge.
But between searching the library for literature on the Cruciatus Curse and learning the basics of both arithmancy and runes, he hadn't managed to read the more advanced book yet.
Perhaps later tonight…
They rounded another corner. 'You can already cast the spell, can't you?' Blaise asked suddenly.
Harry shrugged. 'I can,' he answered honestly.
Blaise shook his head. 'I really don't know how you do it. Half of our class hasn't even managed the match to needle transfiguration yet, and you did it on your second try. Same thing with the levitation charm earlier. I mean - I know the theory, but I manage nothing more than a few inches at best; and that's with a quill.'
Harry didn't respond immediately. The books on magical theory he'd read this summer had agreed on one thing - that intent-based, wandless magic was an ability as rare as they came.
An ability he possessed.
He rarely practised it anymore, what with his wand around now, but he very much suspected that his proficiency with wandless magic was at least an… indicator of why wanded magic came so easily to him.
'It just comes naturally to me,' he told Blaise.
It wasn't a lie - just not the quite the truth either. The pair came to a halt in front of the Charms classroom. Muffled voices could be heard inside.
Still in class…
Harry lowered himself to the floor, pulling his notes from last night forth from his bag.
He found that Arithmancy came quite easily to him - just as maths had - and that studying Runes mainly involved the memorization of symbols, sequences, and effects - something he was quite good at as well.
He wasn't yet at a point where he could begin to create his own enchantments, but in the last week he'd already learnt a lot.
Suddenly, the doors to the classroom swung open, tearing his eyes away from the parchment in his hands.
After the stream of what Harry thought to be fourth or fifth years had dispersed, he got up from the ground and followed Blaise inside.
Professor Flitwick stood on his elevated chair, behind a lectern similar to Dumbledore's in the Great Hall. Bright light flooded the classroom through tall windows and the contraptions hanging from the ceiling looked as interesting as they did strange.
Flitwick gave them a bright smile. 'Mr. Potter, Mr. Zabini. Early again?' he chuckled.
Harry gave him a smile. 'Professor Snape allowed us to leave early, sir.'
Flitwick chuckled. 'You must be a talented potioneer then.' He paused. 'Just like your mother.'
Harry didn't respond to that.
'But I digress; Did you finish the essays I assigned you last lesson?' the Professor inquired.
'Of course, sir.'
Blaise and Harry produced rolls of parchment from their respective bags. Flitwick summoned them with a wave of his wand.
'Thank you,' he smiled. 'Please take a seat. I'm sure your classmates will arrive shortly.'
They took a seat on one of the benches further up. As he reached into his bag, Harry pulled The Standard Book of Spells Vol. 2 forth onto the desk. Blaise gave him an incredulous look.
Fortunately, the boy's attention shifted, as their classmates started to pool into the classroom. Naturally, the Slytherins sat down on the right, while the Ravenclaws funnelled towards the left. A few seconds later the Professor shut the doors with a wave of his wand.
'Good morning,' Flitwick addressed them with his trademark cheer. 'Today, I'm happy to say that we will finally indulge your curiosity to learn a practical piece of magic,' he declared happily.
'Last lesson, we learned about the theory behind the Wand-Lighting Charm, and today it falls upon you to practise the spell. But before that, let us quickly summarise things once more. Can anyone tell me the incantation and wand-movements for the spell?' he asked.
A few arms rose around the classroom.
'Yes. Miss Granger.'
'Lumos, Professor,' the Ravenclaw answered immediately. 'The wand-motion is an omega with a loop in counterclockwise direction.'
Flitwick beamed. 'Correct. It is important that one visualises the tip of their wand lighting up while attempting the spell. But before we finally get around to casting, we first need to make ourselves familiar with another… spell. Does anyone know why that may be?' he asked.
A few students raised their hands, Harry amongst them.
'Mr Potter.'
'Unlike other spells, the Wand-Lighting Charm requires an entirely separate incantation to be extinguished,' he answered evenly. 'The incantation for the Wand-Extinguishing Charm is Nox, Latin for night and requires no wand movement to work,' he added.
The Professor nodded. 'Indeed, Mr. Potter. Now then. Please open your books on page twelve and make yourselves familiar with the reasons behind this phenomenon. We will begin with casting once you're finished.'
Groans echoed across the classroom, but despite that most students pulled forth their books. Harry didn't.
No chance in hell I'll read that chapter again.
He placed The Standard Book of Spells Vol. 2 in his lap, so the desk hid it from the Professor's line of sight, browsing its pages.
The Silencing Charm
The Silencing Charm, incantation Silencio, is a useful spell for day-to-day application. Shielding your ears from noise, or…
He jumped a few lines, filtering out the empty words which every book was prone to. Eventually, he found a paragraph worth reading.
The charm can be applied on solid matter of all kinds and functions similarly to a short-term area of effect ward. Its maximum range is, like many spells, mainly dependent on the caster's magical power.
Harry smiled to himself. Which means I could probably cast it on my shoes and make my steps silent.
He had not yet given up on finding literature on the Torture Curse outside the restricted section, but if it ever came to it, the spell could certainly help him sneak through the castle at night.
He felt someone nudge his side.
'We're supposed to be casting the charm,' Blaise whispered.
And indeed - the entire class was already dutifully incanting, even though there were no lit-up wand tips in sight. He gave Blaise a small, grateful nod, before brandishing his wand.
'Lumos,' he said softly.
A dim, white light appeared on the tip of his wand. Blaise smiled faintly by his side, as Professor Flitwick's eyes wandered in their direction.
'Oh, marvellous!' he exclaimed. 'Come look - Mr. Potter has done it. Fifteen points to Slytherin!'
Harry gave the man a smile, and noticed the Ravenclaws shoot him a baffled look from across the room. He extinguished the spell and leaned back into the bench again.
'Any tips?' Blaise asked.
He shrugged. 'Take your time and focus on the visualisation. Closing your eyes might help.'
'Thanks,' Blaise nodded, shutting his eyelids and taking a deep breath. 'Lumos,' he said clearly.
A very dim glow - but a glow nonetheless - appeared on the tip of Blaise's wand. The Italian gave Harry a bright grin.
'Thanks, Harry.'
Harry gave him a smile, before turning back towards the book in his lap once more, zoning out the noise of the filled classroom.
The rest of the lesson passed in a haze.
Eventually, most students managed to successfully cast the spell, Flitwick handed out points as if they were candy. Blaise was one amongst the first and almost as quick as Granger, with Malfoy and Greengrass shortly behind.
As he got up from the bench to follow Blaise out of the room, Professor Flitwick's voice stopped him in his tracks.
'Mr. Potter, if you would stay behind for a moment!' the man called from his seat at the front of the class.
Did he catch me?
Harry traded a look with Blaise. 'Just go. I'll see you later.'
'I'll save you a seat at lunch.'
He smiled. 'Thanks.'
A few seconds later, the Professor and Harry were the only remaining people in the classroom.
'How can I help you, Professor?' Harry inquired innocently.
'You're not in any trouble,' the man assured quickly. 'I merely noticed that you didn't seem particularly… focused during class today,' he stated.
Harry's lips thinned. 'I suppose you could say that.'
Flitwick chuckled. 'You need not keep up an act with me, Harry. I know when one of my students is bored. I imagine you have already mastered the Wand-Lighting Charm in your own time.'
'I… did, sir,' Harry confessed.
The Professor's lips tugged upward. 'Which would explain why you decided to read instead of paying attention to class.'
Harry cringed inwardly. 'I… apologise, sir.'
Flitwick waved him off. 'It's fine, my boy. I understand that the first year curriculum can feel unchallenging at times. But if you insist on continuing your extracurricular studies during my lessons, I would at least like to give you a recommendation on what to read.'
'Of course, sir,' Harry nodded.
Flitwick smiled. 'As you might know, I was once a duelist - and a proficient one at that, if I might say so myself. You will likely have heard that I organise a… club for students who I think might have talent in the art. I would like you to read up on the subject - if it proves agreeable to you, of course.'
Harry's eyebrows rose. 'Oh... I'd be honoured, sir.'
The Professor beamed at him, before producing a note from his drawer. 'Perfect,' he smiled. 'I have here, a list of books you can borrow from the library. They're all rather small and simple, rest assured, though you will have to invest some time away from classes to utilise everything they have to offer.'
A Comprehensive Guide to Wizarding Duels
Duelling through the Ages
The Art and Strategy of Wizarding Duels
Basic Duelling Spells and Sequences
'Thank you, Professor.' Harry accepted the note.
Flitwick chuckled once more. 'It's nothing, my boy. Now; please be off to lunch. It wouldn't do for you to stay hungry, after all.'
Harry smiled. 'Of course, sir. Goodbye.'
The Professor chuckled. 'Goodbye, Harry.'
As he exited the classroom, Harry found himself pondering the indications of the exchange. Flitwick obviously considered offering Harry a spot in the duelling club - which seemed like a good thing, truth be told.
After all, Harry wanted to look into defensive magic anyway, seeing as the threat of an attack on his persona still remained. Nothing may have happened these past few days, but that certainly didn't mean he was safe.
In fact, he was almost certain that he was supposed to be lulled into a false sense of security before being struck when it was least expected. He snorted to himself. As if he'd let that happen.
As he reached the gates of the Great Hall, he forced the faint smile on his face to disappear before stepping inside. He'd certainly have to visit the library later today.
It had been a rather hectic Saturday for Filius.
Correcting essays, handling exchanges between his Nation and the ICW, and now the first staff meeting of the year.
They'd already dealt with some noteworthy incidents, accommodated students who wished to change their electives, and more. Nevertheless, things were far from over.
'I would like to get an insight on our newest additions to the castle. How are our first years doing?' Albus asked with a merry twinkle in his eyes.
Minerva was the first to respond. 'Quite well, all things considered,' she said in her usual brogue. 'Some of the Gryffindors, most notably Misters Longbottom and Weasley have had minor conflicts with some of the Slytherins, but so far nothing concerning has happened.'
Albus nodded. 'Any other students worth a note?' he asked.
'A handful,' Minerva confirmed with a nod. 'Miss Bones seems to be doing well, despite the loss of Miss Abbot this summer, but I'm sure it can't be easy for her.'
Pomona smiled sadly. 'Her fellow Hufflepuffs have given her all the support she could need. I'm sure she'll eventually recover from the shock completely.'
Albus sighed. 'Young Hannah truly was taken from us too early, but I digress. Please continue.'
'Against expectations, Mr. Longbottom seems to be fitting in quite well. We were all concerned that fame had risen to his head, but the boy seems to be grounded. He has formed a strong bond with Mr. Weasley and continued his friendship with Ms. Bones. In addition to that, he's performing quite well in most classes.'
It seemed the majority of the Professors in the hall agreed with the latter statement, except for Severus, who merely sneered.
'The boy may be a prodigy at Herbology, but he doesn't know how to brew a potion for his life. I would not have been surprised had he blown up his kettle the same way Finnegan did.'
Pomona and Minerva huffed, but Albus raised a hand. 'I'm sure young Neville will try and improve his efforts in the future. Let us move on.'
'Indeed,' Minerva proclaimed tightly. 'It should be mentioned that Misters Crabbe and Goyle are, so far, performing well under expectations. Neither of them have managed anything resembling success in my class yet, and I have heard similar things from my colleagues,' she said, eyeing Severus pointedly.
'And what would you have me do, Minerva?' the potions master drawled.
Her lips thinned. 'If things continue as they have, it would be prudent to assign them a tutor. Perhaps an older student who has a lot of time on their hands. I'm sure the boys' parents would be willing to cover the costs.'
'Of course…'
Minerva turned her gaze away. 'Moving on, I think that we should pay attention that Miss Granger doesn't immerse herself into her studies too deeply. I have noticed a concerning lack of social interest from her, and would like you to look into things, if possible, Filius.'
Filius nodded. 'I'm quite aware, Minerva. I will resolve the situation in time.' He paused. 'I think someone else who should be brought up on that note is Mr. Potter.'
Albus gave him an incredulous look and Minerva frowned.
'He's doing wonderfully in classes, and essays alike. I hardly think he's a point of concern, Filius.'
Filius shook his head. 'Perhaps,' he agreed. 'Yet I find myself doubtful that he is properly challenged by the curriculum. He seems to have no issues with casting spells on his first attempt, and last lesson I caught him reading a second year Charms text during class. I already gave him a list of material to read up on, but I'm afraid that won't keep him from losing interest in classes sooner or later.'
Minerva frowned. 'Well, what are we supposed to do, Filius? The curriculum is chosen by both the Board and the Ministry. We can do nothing to change it. I have already tried to challenge him as much as I can, but my resources are limited.'
Filius sighed. 'I understand, I merely wanted to bring it to your attention.' He turned towards Severus. 'I was also wondering how Mr. Potter has been faring in Slytherin so far.'
Severus rolled his eyes. 'He's been doing well enough. Mr. Malfoy and him do not seem to get along, but he seems to have found a friend in Mr. Zabini.'
'You do not think his position precarious?' Filius questioned.
The potions master shrugged. 'I was a half-blood and did alright for myself in Slytherin. Since the boy doesn't seem to have inherited any of his father's cockiness, I assume he will be fine.'
'Severus!' Minerva scowled.
Albus stopped her before she could erupt into a full-blown rant. 'Still, we would appreciate it if you could keep an eye on things. We all know how prevalent bigotry still is in your House today. I would rather we intervene too early than too late.'
'Of course, headmaster,' Snape drawled.
Filius sighed.
Even if things go wrong, I can at least hope Harry knows how to defend himself. If what I expect is true, he will pick up the books sooner rather than later and learn.
After spending his morning in the library - yet again in fruitless pursuit of knowledge on the Torture Curse - Harry had decided to find an abandoned classroom and do some spell practice.
His frustration had translated well into casting, and as such it had been almost three hours since he'd entered the room and begun practising spells.
He had begun with some easier hexes, jinxes, and charms he'd found in the second volume of the Standard Book of Spells, but now he was ready for something a bit more challenging.
The books Flitwick had recommended him laid sprawled out on the table. The last two days, he had made himself familiar with the basics of duelling, and now he wanted to attempt casting some of the spells commonly employed in the art.
A handful of them had caught his eye.
One was the Stunning Charm - Stupify - which was able to knock a person unconscious without inflicting any other notable harm upon them - except for a mild headache, perhaps.
Not that Harry was against inflicting harm upon people on principle. It was rather that in an unofficial environment - during a fight with some fellow students, for example - he'd be able to avoid any major disciplinary action for injuring them.
It was a far better alternative to the Reductor Curse, which could shatter bones and bruise organs on impact. Something like that was bound to get him either into detention, or perhaps even expelled.
But even then - he didn't think the Stunning Charm was the spell most worth mastering for now. That honour fell to the Advanced Shield Charm.
They'd covered Aego Fortis with Quirrell earlier this week, but the minor shield wouldn't hold against even the weakest of Banishing Charms. If he wanted to properly defend himself, he needed an alternative.
The Advanced Shield Charm.
Protego worked against a wide range of spells, amongst them even some of darker nature - but also physical objects. The charm had its weak points - the limited shield size at the forefront - but even despite that, it was, according to the books, one of the most versatile tools of defence in a wizard's arsenal.
That's why he had decided on attempting it first.
Allowing his eyes to brush over the page once more, he took a deep breath and brandished his wand, imagining a brightly glowing, silver barrier emerging from its tip.
'Protego!'
He could feel warmth seep into his arm and pool towards the conduit in his hand. Then, suddenly, his legs gave out and he collapsed.
He toppled to his feet, rubbing his head. Why didn't it work? What happened?
When he had levitated the kettle off its rack during their first potions class he had almost fallen to the ground as well. Perhaps this was a sign that he was pushing too far past his limits?
No, that couldn't be it. He fought himself to his feet and tried again. Maybe intent had been the issue.
'Protego!' he said more decisively.
Heat surged to his wand, and for just a moment he could see a faint, almost translucent sheet of molten silver spread from its tip. A grin spread on his face.
Then his vision went black, and he crashed to the ground.
A pained groan escaped his lips, his eyelids fluttering as he noticed his scraped up kneecaps. Holding onto the desk for support, he dragged himself back onto his feet, before staggering over towards a nearby chair, and collapsing into it.
Short, raspy breaths escaped him.
'Definitely too far,' he said to himself, still gasping for air.
He'd never failed to cast a spell before. Even now, he had seen some success. But his blackout? That certainly wasn't normal.
Perhaps I did exceed my limits…
He'd been here casting magic on and off for hours after all, and it wasn't a surprise that he was exhausted. He just hadn't expected things to go wrong so badly. It seemed that the shield charm required more effort than most other spells.
It makes sense, though, all things considered. It's an intermediate spell, according to the book. Maybe I should take a break. But first…
'Episkey,' he muttered. The skin of his scraped up knees sealed smoothly.
For the next five minutes, he just sat there, staring up onto the cobweb-littered ceiling of the abandoned classroom, waiting for his heart-rate to calm, and his breaths to slow. Eventually, he stood up again.
Okay, Harry. Focus.
'Protego,' he incanted firmly.
The sinking feeling in his stomach made him wobble, but through gritted teeth, he forced himself to stay on his feet. At the end of his wand hovered a nigh translucent, silvery barrier the diameter of a few inches.
He smiled, cancelling the spell, before falling back into the chair. I did it. The smile vanished. But is it really supposed to be that hard?
If so, he would certainly have to practise a lot more than expected in the future. He knew that magic worked somewhat like a muscle, and knew enough about exercise that overloading your body increased its capabilities. This was nothing else.
Despite that, he knew that he had already pushed himself too far for today. With a stretch of his limbs, he conjured golden digits into the air.
9:50. I should get going anyways. It's almost curfew already…
Hastily, he collected his belongings and shoved them back inside his bag, before leaving the classroom and moving through the empty corridors at a brisk pace.
Eventually, but on time, he arrived in front of a familiar wall, where two large snakes slithered out of the ground and formed a portrait frame.
'Password?' the Ashwinder hissed.
'Salazar,' Harry answered.
'Correct.' The portrait swung to the side, exposing the greenish hue of the common room.
A handful of students were still lazing around the couches by the window and chimneys - likely working on their essays - but otherwise the space was largely deserted.
With a shrug, Harry marched up the staircase to his dorm. Gripping the silver door-handle of his room, he stepped inside.
Blaise was sitting on his desk, scribbling away on some parchment, an open book by his side. As the door fell into its lock, the boy turned around.
'Where've you been?' he asked. Blaise laid his quill on the table. 'After lunch you just vanished. We tried looking for you in the library, but you weren't there.'
'We?' Harry asked.
'A few of us played some Falsiphase after dinner and wondered if you wanted to join,' he explained.
Harry yawned. 'I was practising some spells on the fifth floor,' he explained with a shrug.
'You know you're not as subtle as you think, right?' his roommate replied bluntly.
Harry raised an eyebrow. 'And by that you mean?'
'Except for classes and meals you're never really around. I mean - we get along fine, but the others know next to nothing about you. We're trying, and it's a bit insulting, you know?'
Harry didn't know what to say for a moment. He hadn't expected anyone to address his evasiveness at all - and certainly not Blaise - but denying it would portray him in an even worse light.
'It… is not anything personal,' he responded slowly. 'I simply prefer spending time by myself.' He paused. 'I never had a lot of friends growing up.'
Blaise frowned. 'That is… fair, I suppose. Nevertheless, it would be polite to at least try and get to know us better.'
'Us being?
He shrugged. 'Tracey. Theo. Greengrass. Bulstrode. The Carrows. Me. Don't get me wrong - I'm not asking you to hang out with Malfoy's lot - I don't like them either; but the others are alright.'
Harry's lips thinned. 'I'll… think about it.'
Blaise smiled. 'I suppose that's all I'll get for now.'
Author's Note:
I finished this chapter rather quickly. Hopefully you enjoyed it.
We made some decent progress. Bonding between Blaise and Harry, Flitwick approaching Harry about his boredom in class, and spell practice.
I have also finished a rough outline for the First Year, and am happy to say that you can expect about 15 Chapters (The first 6 [5] included) until we conclude things.
As always, A thank you goes to all the reviewers, followers, favourites, kudos, and most importantly - my betas. I've expanded on that front - Popsoda has joined the club amongst Jupiter and Jono. So, big shoutout to them - they really help improve this thing.
On that note, I want to once again invite you to leave a review and join my Discord. The link can be found on my profile on FFN, or simply here in the Author's Notes for all AO3 readers.
/zwpshsfKJn
See you around.
Edited: 18.09.2023