Chapter 34 – Deeper Mysteries

After their little argument on Saturday morning Harry didn't see much of his friends over the weekend. Blaise, Ernie, and Susan had retreated to lick their wounds, while Daphne and Millie had gone elsewhere to do the same.

Harry saw a bit of Justin and Tracey but spent most of his weekend out on the grounds flying. Not at Flight Club, since the Inquisition's searches of the teachers' quarters had scuppered any chance of that – extracurriculars had been cancelled – but on his own. It was good to just fly for the sheer thrill of it without having to worry about a course, markers, or hazards.

Just Harry, the skies, and his Firebolt.

Unfortunately that wasn't to last as the weekend ended, and with it, Harry's freedom. At breakfast on Monday morning, the mood in the castle was tense. Blaise sat with Charlie at breakfast, and hadn't spoken with Harry all weekend besides, so Harry left him to it and sat down with the girls.

Which was great in theory, but Harry had sat by Tracey, who was sat next to Daphne, and the pair of them ended up talking about hair accessories or something similar – Harry wasn't sure what – throughout breakfast. And because Millie had sat next to Daphne, it was too difficult for Harry to talk with her about something less fashion related.

So Harry spent most of his breakfast alternating between stewing in his own thoughts and looking around at everything and at nothing in particular. At the end of breakfast Umbridge stood up.

"Hem, hem! As the High Inquisitor I find myself tasked with the unfortunate and truly upsetting task of announcing the resignation of several members of the Hogwarts team," Umbridge said. "We are all of course deeply saddened that our colleagues have decided that this is the way forward, but we must be mindful that for some, teaching is a job and not a vocation. Of course, we wish our former colleagues every success moving forward and we hope that their transition to the wider world outside of Hogwarts School is a success."

Harry looked up at the Head Table and scanned it end to end quickly. Fortunately none of his teachers had quit, although Harry could have done with Lockhart deciding to go elsewhere. But Remus was still sat there, which meant – or so Harry assumed, anyway – that Umbridge hadn't found out he was a werewolf. Although if she had, Harry doubted she'd allow him the dignity of a resignation. No, he'd have been turfed out in full public view for the world to know about it.

So that was a little bit of good news, at least.

Murmurs throughout the Great Hall as students started talking about the missing members of staff. It wasn't anyone Harry had ever had lessons from, so he wasn't too bothered by it, although the principle did make him annoyed.

"So it is with a heavy heart that I must announce the departure of Mr Babbage, formerly of the History of Magic department; of Mrs Hornbeam, formerly of the Charms department; and of Mr Underwillow, formerly of the Transfiguration department. Again, we all here at Hogwarts hope that our three former colleagues find that which they were lacking here outside of these hallowed halls," continued Umbridge. "It is my sincerest wish that we will fill their recently vacated positions as soon as possible so as not to disrupt the education of you, our dear students. As you all know the education and the welfare of our students is of the highest priority to the Inquisition. That is why it is to my great dismay that I have to announce that Miss Redfeather—formerly a Herbology adjunct—has been found to be in possession of subversive and seditious material. The relevant authorities have been contacted and I am told that Miss Redfeather is facing punishment to the fullest extent of the law. She has, of course, been relieved of her position here at Hogwarts School."

Umbridge paused.

"The discovery of such material in possession of a Hogwarts teacher is shocking," Umbridge said. "Such things cannot and will not be tolerated at this school. The seizure of this material shows that the criticisms of the Ministry's recent law to be wholly without merit, as the safety and welfare of all of this country's young minds is at stake. I would ask that any students with any information about Miss Redfeather's subversive activities and beliefs to present themselves to an Inquisitor immediately. Thank you all."

Umbridge simply left the table once she was done speaking, sweeping out of the Great Hall to a chorus poorly concealed whispers and murmuring. Harry turned to look at Tracey and the other two girls.

"This is bad," Harry said.

"Three resignations," Tracey said, "and they actually found something worth sacking over. I wonder what it was."

"Knowing Umbridge," Millicent said, leaning around Daphne, "they found her with a book that's got the word 'goblin' in it and decided that was too far."

They got up from the Slytherin Table to join the flood of students from the Great Hall.

"I know you're only joking," Daphne said, "but I reckon they found something actually quite serious if they went right to sacking." She paused. "Or, well, not actually serious, but what they've said is serious. You know what I mean."

Unfortunately, Harry had to agree. Whatever it was that Miss Redfeather had been found to have, it was obviously big enough to warrant a sacking and referral to the Ministry. Given the general state of things that could mean something that was genuinely worrying, or something completely banal and ordinary in any other time.

No doubt the papers would have it plastered all over the front pages soon enough. Harry would just have to wait.

Harry checked his watch.

"Ugh. Come on, Daph—we'd better get going or we'll be late," Harry said.

"I'll see you later, Millie," Daphne said. "We'll meet for break?"

"Yeah, obviously," Millie said.

They parted ways. Harry and Daphne made their way to lessons but Harry couldn't say his focus was where it should have been. He was far too worried about what the Inquisition might dream up next.

Blaise sought Harry out on Tuesday morning, just before breakfast.

"Look," Blaise said quietly, drawing Harry aside. "I didn't mean—that argument we all had—none of us meant—" He paused, then sighed. "I'm sorry. I know what it sounded like. But… I'm sorry. The three of us have had a chat and we… it's… we're not going to quit, alright? Even though things have got..."

"Worse than ever? Thanks," Harry said. "I mean it. I didn't—I knew none of you meant that—it's just it's a bit…" Harry shrugged. Everything was fraught. More than it had ever been.

"I still think we need to be careful," Blaise continued, "but I don't think we should… I mean it's all… Everyone says Miss Redfeather is really nice. I've never had her, but she's meant to be a great teacher. Whatever they've found I don't think it's dangerous. And if they've done that to her, just to prove a point…" Blaise shrugged. "What about people like my mum? It won't stop at Hogwarts, will it? This feels like a tester. And I don't want to see where it goes, so if we can—I mean—if we can stop it here… So I'm happy to keep going." He shrugged. "If you want us. So are the other two. Just thought you should know that that's all."

"I appreciate it, I really do," Harry said. And he did. None of his friends had to get involved, not with Umbridge and the Inquisition. And really only Justin needed to worry about Voldemort. The others, even Millie and Tracey, could simply keep their heads down and try to get on without tipping the cauldron.

But Harry was stuck. Umbridge didn't trust him, and more than that seemed to want something from him. Something which Harry still hadn't figured out. And although whatever that thing was was unlikely to be what Voldemort wanted from Harry, it was worrying all the same. And with Dumbledore on the run for treason the Dark amalgam had free rein to stir things up at the Ministry.

Anything that kept Harry off the Ministry's hit list was a major help. And if Harry had to go without his friends… well, it would make things all the more difficult.

"Nice one," Blaise said. "I just—I really don't want to get caught, you know? So we've got to be even more careful. But… God, it's been shit all weekend. And yesterday. Felt really guilty."

Harry shrugged. As pleased as he was that Blaise and the others had rejoined the cause, they could live with a little guilt. It was only fair.

"It's done now. Breakfast?"

Blaise nodded and they attended breakfast together for the first time since the argument on Saturday morning.

Breakfast itself was uneventful, with no resignations nor any sackings, and Umbridge hadn't even seen fit to make any announcements. Whether that was good news Harry couldn't say, as although his uncle was fond of saying 'no news is good news,' Harry didn't think that applied to the Inquisition. No news could equally mean that something big and horrible was in the planning stages.

Better to assume no news was bad news, in that case. But it did at least mean Harry could get through breakfast without any incidents, and when it came time for lessons, was able to go without worrying overly much about the Inquisition and its plans.

Of course, Tuesday meant Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Lockhart, which was always fit to sour Harry's mood. At least the course content itself wasn't especially taxing, given that it consisted of acting out passages from Lockhart's books. Even if that did mean Remus was scrambling to catch up to the actual syllabus.

"…and so that's the story of how I defeated the Wagga Wagga Werewolf!" declared Lockhart with a flourish.

Finally! Harry thought. He'd had to serve as the Wagga Wagga Werewolf, and the whole ordeal had been the worst of Lockhart's lessons so far.

"Now for homework I'd like you all to design a book cover based on my daring defeat of the werewolf! You can use whatever materials you like to make it, but it has to include me casting the spell." Lockhart paused. "Oh, and on the inside of the book I want you to write a paragraph about the, oh, the theoretical basis behind the Homorphus Charm."

Keen to get away, Harry hurried back to his vacant seat to put away his things before Lockhart could assign him anything different.

"Ah, Harry, my boy—stay back after the lesson, if you would," Lockhart said.

Harry's heart near enough fell out of his stomach. He fought the urge to sigh.

"Of course, Professor," Harry said. He'd managed to avoid Lockhart's 'homework' sessions since getting back from Christmas, but evidently his good luck was well and truly over. The rest of the class fled the classroom, leaving Harry alone with Lockhart.

"Now, for your homework I'd like you to help me with something I've been working on this evening," Lockhart said. "It's nothing fancy—really more of the same of what we've been doing already—but given that I've entered the next round of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award I've been inundated. So I'm going to have you respond to those while I sign photographs of myself to send out. I'm doing the pre-release publicity for my new book, you see, and it's very important this all gets done."

Lockhart paused.

"You know, wizards aren't quite as on the ball with this sort of things as the muggles are—that's part of why I'm such a successful personality, you know. I'm not afraid to learn from and use the best parts of what muggles can do. You'd do well to a leaf out of my book with that one, young Harry."

"I'll bear that in mind, Professor," Harry said. It was decent enough advice, Harry supposed, if Harry was actually looking to improve his profile or woo the public. But then, it might come in useful someday, so Harry didn't intend to discount it completely. "What time should I come to your office?"

He'd given up trying to persuade Lockhart to let him do the regular homework. It didn't work, so it was a complete waste of his time, and Lockhart had dispensed a few useful snippets of information, so it was only mostly a waste of his time to attend the special homework sessions. And the homework Lockhart set for the rest of the class was a complete waste of time, so there was that.

"Oh, the usual time," Lockhart said. "After dinner, but not too late! You'd best get going to your next lesson—tell your teacher I kept you back!"

"Yes, sir," Harry said. He left. Miss Jones had become quite used to Harry being late for her Arithmancy lessons, and although she didn't seem to mind, Harry still didn't like the idea people thought he was comfortable simply sauntering in late as if the rules didn't matter to him.

The lesson had already started by the time Harry got there, so Harry mumbled his apologies to Miss Jones and sat himself down as quickly as he could. That was his last lesson of the day – except for Astronomy late at night – so Harry did have at least a little bit of a break to chill out after.

But after dinner it was, as late as Harry could manage to make it, time to head off to Lockhart's office for his Tuesday 'homework' session. Once outside Lockhart's office, Harry knocked on the door and waited.

"Come in, Harry, lad—there's work to be doing!" said Lockhart. Harry opened the door and sat down opposite Lockhart at his desk. "These are for you to do," Lockhart said, gesturing to the stack of letters. "I'll sign these photos; you don't need to worry about that. But what I do want you to pay attention to is if any of the letters you're working with are asking for a signed photograph. If they are, do let me know and I'll give you one! All clear?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry said. Harry got to work at once, picking up Lockhart's enchanted quill and opening the first of the fan letters. It was all the same sorts of stuff, with nothing at all interesting. Not even a salacious photograph or anything, and certainly not any letters with a picture of a chicken on the front. But then, Harry supposed it was better than having to read Lockhart's book for the description of the Homorphus Charm and how he'd used it on the Wagga Wagga Werewolf.

And then having to design a book cover based on it. Through it all Lockhart kept up a steady stream of comments, observations, and attempted witticisms while Harry worked through his letters. Harry tried his best to both tune it out and offer the right noises and commentary where appropriate.

"…and in India, of course, you've got to be especially charming because the Indian wizards simply don't rate us European wizards all that highly," Lockhart was saying. "Think of us as upstarts, you see. But in MACUSA and the Western Territories they simply can't get enough of us! Admittedly in MACUSA you've got—"

A hard, sharp knock on the office door interrupted Lockhart, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Harry glanced at Lockhart, wondering if he'd invited anyone else to his office, but Lockhart seemed equally as surprised at anyone visiting him. Harry supposed it could have been a student coming to him after hours, or perhaps one of his colleagues. Remus, maybe, there to ask about some course-related thing or other.

"Come in, come in," Lockhart said, voice full of his usual cheer.

Umbridge herself, flanked by Arlecchino and Vipera, appeared in the doorway and stepped inside the room.

"Gilderoy, we're here this evening to—to-" Umbridge began but faltered when she saw Harry sitting at Lockhart's desk. "Mr Potter. How—unexpected—to see you here this evening."

Harry looked from Umbridge to Lockhart, and then back again. With a little bit of luck Umbridge would put a stop to Harry's 'homework' sessions, although that would mean Harry had to do the regular homework which had been growing increasingly pointless.

An unlikely saviour indeed.

"Young Harry here is helping me with a project," Lockhart explained, smiling widely at Umbridge. "But enough about me—Dolores, is that a new bow? I must say it's simply delightful."

"Oh, I—yes, actually, Gilderoy—I purchased it this weekend," said Umbridge, fluttering her eyes and raising a hand to her hair. "Do you—"

"Ahem," coughed Arlecchino. "High Inquisitor, we were here because…?"

"Ah, yes, of course," Umbridge said. "Gilderoy, as you know we've been making it our business to conduct a thorough search of the school for any and all seditious materials which might be hidden. Of course, we all understand that you are perhaps the least likely member of staff to have any such material, but it is still necessary for us to search your office. However, as a… professional courtesy… we have decided to conduct the search in private. If you would?"

"Of course, Dolores!" Lockhart said. He got up from his desk. "You may look to your heart's content! My desk is always open to you and yours."

"Thank you, Gilderoy," Umbridge continued with a smile. Arlecchino moved to search inside the desk, and Harry sat there watching proceedings as surreptitiously as he could. While Arlecchino was busy with that, Umbridge continued speaking to Lockhart.

"Now, I'm quite sure that there's nothing at all to find," Umbridge said, "because you are after all a stalwart defender from Dark forces and a true ally to the Ministry of Magic! And of course this is a delicate matter given the—given the status of where we must look—but we must also look inside the concealed portion of the office."

A look of pure, abject terror crossed Lockhart's face, but it lasted mere moments, and was soon gone in favour of his usual toothy smile.

"I've no problem with that whatsoever! Let me open the door for you." Lockhart turned to the bit of wall behind his desk and whispered something to it, revealing a winding stone staircase leading up to a little doorway.

Well, that's new, Harry thought. Except it wasn't new at all – the stonework looked just as ancient as everywhere else in the castle, and thanks to Harry's alchemically enhanced eyes, he could even see the grain of the aged wood. But Harry hadn't known Lockhart's office could do that, and he'd spent near enough every Tuesday in it since the start of the year.

Although he supposed that was the point of a secret entrance, to conceal things.

"I'll go on through first," Lockhart said, beaming. "This old office—the Defence position, you know—has all sorts of… little nasties… you don't want to get on the wrong side of. Harry, lad, you come too—I've got nothing to hide, after all! Might as well do a bit of teaching while we're at it, mm?"

Lockhart sounded carefree and easy, every bit like he usually did… except Harry knew it was fake. Or faker than it usually was. It was missing something, and Harry had had enough experience listening to Lockhart drone on in lessons and in a more private setting to know that something was up. There was something hidden that Lockhart didn't want anyone to find. Of that, Harry was quite sure. But just what that thing was, Harry couldn't say.

Umbridge didn't seem especially pleased with Lockhart's invitation of Harry to view the search of the secret room, and nor did Inquisitors Arlecchino and Vipera, but Harry jumped to carry out Lockhart's request. It was quite possibly the one thing Lockhart had ever asked him to do that he actually wanted to do.

Harry climbed the stone steps to Lockhart's secret office space behind Lockhart, and then stepped inside the room.

What he saw was disappointing. Far from being a treasure trove of hidden secrets and contraband, Lockhart's office really did look like an ordinary office space. There was a desk, various bits and pieces of furniture scattered throughout the room, along with miscellaneous enchanted objects. Against one wall was a large cabinet, an ornate thing with polished wood, and there were some display cabinets with skulls in them. A tall, thin mirror stood in one corner, its frame polished silver with an intricate depiction of some sort of magical creature sat atop it.

But in all, it looked like Harry would expect a Defence Professor's office to look like.

It wasn't even that different from the public part of the office Harry had been spending his Tuesdays in. Just a bit more furnished and with obviously magical items.

"Now, my dear Inquisitors, please feel free to peruse at your heart's leisure! I would ask only one thing of you, of course—before you touch anything, please ask me first, since some of these objects are cursed or otherwise unsuitable for general use," Lockhart said. "My predecessors left notes on some of them, but most of the collection is woefully under documented."

Well, that was certainly convenient for Lockhart given the circumstances. Harry didn't doubt that Lockhart was telling the truth, at least in part. But he was also definitely stretching the truth as far as it would go.

"And how are we going to search them if they're cursed?" asked Arlecchino, frowning. "Awfully convenient, that."

"My dear man," Lockhart said, "absolutely nothing about this office is convenient! It's a nightmare. You've no way of knowing, of course, but that display over there?" said Lockhart, gesturing at one of the glass display boxes. "Melts the fingers of anyone who touches it. Just awful. I've not even tried to touch it—the Professor before that Quirrell bloke left quite comprehensive notes on it and it's not worth the bother."

"How terrible," said Umbridge. "Well, Gilderoy, I suppose we should start with your desk. Is that safe enough?" Her tone was easy, light-hearted almost. Harry got the impression she was trying to impress Lockhart which, given his general effect on women of a certain age, was unsurprising even if it did make for uncomfortable viewing.

"Of course, Dolores. Far be it from me to impede the Inquisition's very important work! The desk is safe enough. Let me just unlock it for you…" Lockhart said. He moved towards the desk and tapped its drawers with his wand.

"I'd like to take a look inside that cabinet," Arlecchino said while Umbridge rifled through the desk drawers. "The one by that mirror."

"Of course, dear fellow," Lockhart said, smiling. "That one is quite safe, although I would caution you not to tickle its knobs—it's frightfully ticklish and will slam its drawers shut!"

"Mm," grunted Arlecchino. He made his way to the cabinet and started looking through it.

"And we won't want to leave you out," Lockhart said to Vipera, flashing her a smile. Harry swore he was even waggling his eyebrows, but that couldn't have been right. Even for Lockhart it seemed a bit too forward given the circumstances.

But Vipera ate it up. She blushed, even.

"Pick somewhere safe for me to search, if you would," Vipera said. "We can start there."

Lockhart led her somewhere 'safe' and left her to her work. For a brief moment, anyway. Then it was a matter of cycling through each of the three Inquisitors as they worked, using various different distractions to make them conduct a less thorough search than they'd been intending.

It was, Harry thought, a very interesting opportunity to watch a master at work. And Lockhart was definitely a master – whenever Umbridge looked too close to finding something incriminating, Lockhart was ready with a well-timed compliment or an easy smile. A light tough, even.

Not even Arlecchino was spared Lockhart's charms, for all that he didn't seem impressed by them. But Lockhart was successful in preventing any of the three Inquisitors from gaining access to one particular piece of furniture in the hidden room – a mid-sized box atop one of the tables in the room which looked as if it had been brought in by Lockhart, given that it had his initials on it.

"Just the one thing left now, Gilderoy," Umbridge said, smiling, her tone obsequious. "You've been remarkably patient and good-humoured about all this, so we'll leave you alone after we've checked that little box there. And you've no need to worry—we've found nothing at all that we'd need to be concerned about. Not that we expected to, of course—you're Gilderoy Lockhart! But the rules must be applied equally, you see, my dear, and so…"

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Dolores!" Lockhart said. "Alas, that particular box holds a very powerful curse—it causes certain, ah, delicate body parts to shrivel and decay if opened. On both witches and wizards, I'm afraid." Lockhart leaned in closer, almost conspiratorially. "It's a… gift… shall we say from a former personal companion of mine who wasn't best pleased with how things ended."

Well, Harry thought, that's one way of making people afraid to look at the box…

Harry knew Lockhart was lying, but even so, didn't feel like testing that. Arlecchino didn't appear convinced either, but Umbridge and Vipera seemed quite content to take Lockhart at his word.

Jammy git, Harry thought. It seemed like all Lockhart had to do was flash a smile and allude to some intimate details and witches would go weak at the knees. Even witches who were supposed to be ransacking his private offices in search of treasonous materials.

Maybe there was something to all Lockhart's prattle about fame and profiles…

"Quite an embarrassing admission, let me tell you," Lockhart continued, "but I wouldn't want any of you to have to, ah, attend Poppy—or Heaven forbid St Mungo's—after a run in with the curse. And as far as I'm aware it's extremely difficult to reverse. I'm only lucky that my last assistant got to it first! Poor girl wasn't the same after, though. Still hasn't come back to work…" He sighed.

Whether that was a lie or not, Harry couldn't tell, but he did come away from it with a growing sense of unease at opening Lockhart's fan mail. That lie had been incredibly easy for Lockhart to come up with, so Harry didn't doubt something like that – even if less serious – had actually happened before.

"Then we should take the box in for proper analysis by the Department for—" Arlecchino said, but Umbridge interrupted him.

"There won't be any need for that. Gilderoy, you've passed the inspection. Again, I am frightfully sorry to have had to do this as we are all quite certain that you would never become embroiled in such unpleasantness as all that, but it is necessary. You have behaved admirably and I will be sure to put in a good word for you when I speak with the Minister," Umbridge said. She turned to Harry. "And you, Mr Potter—what you have witnessed this evening is how a proper and upstanding citizen behaves. You would do well to remember this as you consider your future."

She swept from the room, Arlecchino and Vipera following her. Vipera seemed largely as satisfied with events as Umbridge, but Harry could tell from the look on Arlecchino's face that he'd wanted to go further.

An audible sigh from Lockhart.

"Well, that was certainly unexpected!" Lockhart said, sounding as if he was forcibly putting some cheer into his voice. "Can't be helped, I suppose—sign of the times. Still, you were very helpful Harry, lad. Have five points for Slytherin. Now, I think it might be best if you scurried off to bed—we can catch up on the letters next week, eh?" Lockhart paused. "Yes, that would be for the best. Well, off you go then!"

And with that, Harry was dismissed. He left the secret portion of Lockhart's office using the twisted stone steps and fled from the public part of the office as quickly as possible, lest Lockhart reconsider.

As intrigued as Harry was by the mystery of Lockhart's box, he couldn't devote any time at all to considering it because he had to work on his next alchemical work. The Draught of Aural Acuity was much more complex than the Salve of Clear Sight, but not only was it more difficult, it had many more ways it could result in horrific consequences as well.

Poor Malone had blown his eyes out with his improperly created Salve, but Harry had read of aspiring alchemists whose Draughts of Aural Acuity had rendered them totally mindless – and that was on the milder end of the spectrum.

And as Harry didn't want to end his quest to become a master alchemist just after the very first hurdle, he needed to avoid any of the pitfalls along the alchemist's path. Which meant, whenever he managed to find the time in between his lessons, his resistance of the Inquisition, his prefect duties, and his secret occlumency lessons with Snape, Harry spent as much time as possible in the Library looking at alchemical texts.

Which as activities went wasn't Harry's least favourite thing to do, but he did think it would have been nice to get up in the air a bit more often – or to do some more practise sparring with Tracey for the duelling. But that was OWL year, Harry supposed, and there wasn't too much he could do about it other than simply to try harder.

Not that there was much harder to try.

At least Alchemy lessons were interesting. Given her vastly increased workload owing to her takeover of the Headmaster role, Umbridge seemed to have largely given up on inspecting lessons herself, farming out all that unpleasant work to her Inquisitors.

Harry didn't mind that at all, as many of the Inquisitors seemed in awe of Mr Flamel owing to his legendary status, so even when there was an Inquisitor present, his lessons tended to go how he'd wanted them to.

Even after the debacle that was the search of the teachers' quarters. Mr Flamel and Professor Flamel appeared quite content to simply sit and allow things to happen, which Harry supposed wasn't too surprising for an immortal pair of ancient wizards who'd seen governments come and go time and time again.

"…so of course in this reaction it's absolutely vital that you account for the increased demand placed on your brain by your enhanced sense of hearing," Flamel was saying to the class as he paced along the alchemy classroom giving his lecture. "All seven of you managed that with the Salve, of course, or you wouldn't be here today, but moving forward it's even more important that you consider this because what we're asking for here is much more complex than the Salve. Now, for a question—can anyone tell me why the Draught is a much more difficult process than the Salve? Alchemically speaking."

Silence. But then, that wasn't so surprising for one of Flamel's questions. Alchemy was hard enough without having to worry about saying something stupid to the world's most accomplished alchemist, after all.

But Harry had a vague idea that he knew the answer. That he'd read something which contained the reason why, even if it wasn't a complete answer on its own. He just had to piece it together.

Harry put up his hand.

"Go on then, Potter. Have a go."

"Is it because… er…" Harry said, gathering his thoughts. "It's because there aren't as many powerful symbolisms available for it, isn't it? With the Salve it was easy because you've got, you know, the Sun and the Moon as really powerful anchors, then all the ingredients that tie in, and then you can… well… there's just a lot. But with the Draught it's more complicated because you have to rely on a smaller number of less powerful symbolisms. So, er, the reaction is harder to do and needs a bit more of a push."

He thought that was right, anyway.

"Yes! Exactly that, Potter. Well done. Have three points to Slytherin," Flamel said. "Now, part of the art of alchemy is in finding and exploiting what symbolisms do exist, but we aren't miracle workers. Or, well, we can only work a defined set of miracles, anyway. But then that's the business of magic, isn't it? Finding and exploiting the symbolisms we can, using what we know of the properties of materials, numbers, and concepts… well, you're all discovering that for yourselves, I should think, what with having successfully completed your Salves. I do think it's sometimes said too often that alchemy is one of the esoteric disciplines—puts a lot of you off—but it really is, and it's where the real fun is. The deeper mysteries are where magic gets very interesting indeed! Consider, for example, the concept of wind," Flamel continued.

"At this point in your studies you should all be comfortable listing the magical properties of wind, the various symbolisms it's used with, and all of the usual things. But consider it in the alchemical context. Can anyone find me a reason why a wind symbolism might be useful for your Draughts?"

Harry thought he knew an answer but sat back and waited for someone else to give it. Unlike some of his other lessons, everyone in Alchemy really did want to be there, and he didn't want to monopolise Flamel's time. Not even through want of trying to avoid being seen as too keen – everyone in alchemy was as keen as everyone else.

"Ah, Mr Boot?" Flamel said. "Go on, then."

"Well, sir, there's the obvious symbolism of wind carrying with it change and transformation—we say things 'change with the wind' and stuff like that," Boot said. "But then there's the fact that we use the winds to carry messages. Er, through owls and stuff. There's the communicative aspect to it, you know, like the old saying about the whispering winds? So there's a lot about the wind we can use for the Draught, I think, with the right perspective."

"Excellent work, Mr Boot!" Flamel said. "Two points to Ravenclaw. Now, that isn't the entire reason we use the wind. There are two very useful points that you missed out. Anyone else…?" He waited, although no one offered anything. "I shall tell you, then. The wind has a cleansing and purifying aspect as we see in many of the most ancient magical rituals. I believe my wife has discussed some of these with you, in reference to what the early wizards would have been doing—if she asks, do tell her I remembered. And of course, there is the life symbolism. We speak of the breath of life, which is considered as a kind of wind. All very important for alchemy. Indeed, this is why the wind symbolism is one of the key points of the Draught of Aural Acuity."

Flamel paused.

"You know, in my day we called it the Draught of the Whispering Wind, which was much more poetic and gave a good sense of gravitas. Of course, we called it that in a form of French that's been dead several centuries by now, so I suppose much of the poetry is gone anyway. But there's so much of what we do these days that's lacking in any sort of artistry. Sad, really. But those are the ramblings of an old man; don't mind me. Now, moving on…"

Flamel continued the lecture after that, moving through the various symbolisms which were useful for the Draught of Aural Acuity. Although, as mentioned, there weren't all that many. Certainly nowhere near as many as with their Salves. Harry made sure to note down everything the ancient alchemist said, as he didn't intend to do any worse than he had the first time around.

January passed by with more of the same, with the sole exception of another search of the staff quarters. Despite the argument Harry and his friends didn't even have time to get out and protest, which did make Harry frustrated that the argument had even happened at all. But with everything going on in the castle tempers were short all around, so it was unsurprising even if it was disappointing. Harry continued his pointless 'homework' sessions with Lockhart although he didn't see into the secret office space – and the mysterious box – again.

And with the threat of Inquisition raids on the students' belongings looming, along with everything else Harry had to worry about, Harry didn't have much time to consider Lockhart's box anyway.