Chapter Twenty-Three: Lessons with Dumbledore
Taking advantage of a rare moment of free time, Harry sat in front of the fire in the Room of Requirement, waiting for Daphne to arrive for what he intended to be their last one-on-one training session.
Finding himself in a contemplative mood, he thought back to everything that had happened to him over the past few months and what it might mean for the future. Dementors attacking him at the Dursleys' had been bad enough, but Harry shivered at the thought of what could have happened if he didn't have his wand on him at the time. On the other hand, if it weren't for the dementor attack, he probably would never have bothered to write back to Astoria — an idea which did not appeal to him in the slightest, for obvious reasons.
He definitely never would have predicted being briefly possessed by one of Voldemort's Horcruxes, let alone the subsequent expulsion of the soul fragment he had played host to since he was little more than a year old. How much differently would his year had gone, if he still had that piece of Voldemort inside him? How much differently would his life had gone?
As difficult as the past few months had been, Harry was forced to conclude that everything had resulted in a net positive. While he still had a long way to go, he felt stronger and better prepared to face Voldemort, and his work with the Hogwarts Underground had given him a sense of purpose that he didn't even know he was missing. Of course, having a new girlfriend he was extremely fond of went a long way towards shaping his opinion, too.
"Hey, are you awake?"
Harry jumped slightly, turning around in his seat to see Daphne standing behind him with her arms folded in front of her. "Hey, Daphne," he said, rising to his feet. "Sorry, I was sort of lost in thought there."
"Yes, I can see that," she replied frostily.
Harry frowned, having been somewhat taken aback by her tone. "What's the matter? Did something happen?" he asked her.
"Nothing I care to discuss," Daphne replied shortly. "If it's all the same to you, I'd much rather vent my frustrations with my wand."
"Fair enough," sighed Harry, drawing his wand and moving to the centre of the room. "Ready when you are."
Without so much as a warning, Daphne opened up their duel with a barrage of Bludgeoning Hexes, a spell that emulated the effects of being violently struck by a solid object.
"Jumping right into it, then," thought Harry, as he shielded against Daphne's follow-up spells.
Moving to his left, Harry retaliated with two silent Stunners and an Incarcerous, which Daphne managed to avoid. Without hesitation, she sent a Diffindo towards his legs and followed up with a Blasting Curse aimed at his torso. Harry deftly leapt over the first spell and shielded against the second, before fixing Daphne with a steely gaze.
There was definitely something going on with her. Their only official rule was to avoid causing injuries they couldn't fix on their own, which meant focusing on tactics and technique during their duels and saving the heavy spellwork for the practice dummies. While both of them had been guilty of getting carried away on occasion, Daphne had opened their duel displaying an unusual amount of aggression.
Harry ducked another Bludgeoner and caused heavy smoke to pour from his wand, obscuring both his and Daphne's vision. Bright red Stunners began shooting through the fog, seemingly at random, which allowed Harry to easily locate his target. He silently directed a jet of water towards Daphne's feet, and then quickly froze it with a muttered Glacius.
Daphne growled in frustration as Harry attempted to disarm her, but the smoke had cleared enough that she was able put up a shield just in time. She pointed her wand between her feet and shouted, "Reducto," shattering the hunk of ice that had frozen her shoes to the floor, and for a few moments, she just glared back at Harry, breathing heavily while he patiently waited for her to make a move.
"What's got you all worked up?" asked Harry.
"Nothing," she hissed, before launching into another attack.
Not knowing what else to do, Harry decided to go on the defensive and let Daphne tire herself out, or at least work off some of her anger. After a few minutes, however, it became clear that his intentions had gone awry, as Daphne's inability to land a blow on him had only led to her becoming even more frustrated.
Deciding it would be better to simply end the duel, Harry dropped his shield and shot off four rapid-fire Stunners in close succession: two directly at Daphne and one on either side of her. Having seen this tactic from Harry before, Daphne raised a shield as she stepped to her left, deflecting two of his spells while completely avoiding the others.
"Confringo! Bombarda!" she cried, and Harry was forced to dive out of the way of her spells, which both left large scorch marks on the back wall of the Room of Requirement.
"Daphne, what —"
"Ferveo Sanguinem!"
Harry swore as the deep red curse splashed against his shield. Now deeply fed up, he swept his wand upwards, and a pillar of earth shot up out of the ground directly below Daphne's feet, sending her arse over teakettle. By the time she hit the ground, Harry had already disarmed and immobilised her, bringing a sudden end to the unusually contentious duel.
Ready to give her a piece of his mind, Harry pocketed Daphne's wand and stalked across the room to where she lay frozen. As he approached, however, he was surprised to see tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. With a sigh, Harry lifted his spell.
"A Blood-Boiling Curse, Daphne? Really?" he said with a mix of anger and disappointment.
"I'm sorry," she choked out in a half sob.
"Come on," he said, helping Daphne to her feet and guiding her to the sitting area next to the fire. "Dobby, if you get a chance, can you bring us some tea?" he called, and a short while later, the house-elf appeared with a laden tea tray and deposited it on the coffee table.
"Thanks a lot, Dobby," he said, just before the elf popped away.
They sat and sipped their tea in silence for a minute, Harry giving Daphne a chance to collect herself before getting to the bottom of what caused her to snap like that. He had never seen her completely lose her composure like that before.
"You've been holding back against me this entire time, haven't you?" she said finally.
"Yes," he admitted. "I thought you knew."
"I suppose I did, even if I liked to pretend otherwise," she sighed, her eyes again beginning to water. "I — I want to sincerely apologise for what just happened," continued Daphne. "It wasn't you I was duelling out there, it was…I don't even know anymore. I'm not sure what came over me, but I'm sorry."
"Something obviously happened," replied Harry, but Daphne kept her eyes fixed on her teacup. "Come on, you can tell me."
Daphne took another sip of tea and set her cup down on the tray. "I received a letter from my mother this morning," she began to explain. "It seems my parents now believe that the Dark Lord has returned, because I've been instructed to start ingratiating myself to the children of certain families — Malfoy, in particular."
Harry almost choked on his tea. "But why?" he spluttered. "I thought your father didn't support Voldemort."
"It's not that simple," she sighed. "Father certainly has no interest in joining You-Know-Who, but I can easily see him wanting to at least appear sympathetic to their cause, if only to avoid having our family become a target."
"That'll only work for so long, though," argued Harry, shaking his head in disbelief.
"I'm only guessing, because the letter came directly from my mother," she clarified. "She's a different story altogether; I bet she would have already declared her allegiance, if Father would let her."
"Is it possible your father doesn't even know about her letter?"
"I suppose," she shrugged. "I'm not sure it matters either way, though. Father's priority will be our family's survival, so I don't see him objecting to Mother's instructions."
Harry nodded his understanding, and then a thought occurred to him.
"Wait, do you think Astoria got a letter, too?" he asked suddenly. "She didn't say anything earlier."
"I doubt it," replied Daphne. "I'm much better positioned for this, being in Slytherin, and Astoria…well, let's just say that this sort of thing is my responsibility," she added, almost bitterly.
"Sorry…" muttered Harry, a bit awkwardly. "Hang on, do your parents know about me and Astoria?"
"Not as far as I know," she replied unconcernedly. "They don't tend to stay up to date on school gossip, but you should assume they'll find out eventually."
"And how do you think they'll react?" he asked hesitantly.
The possible reactions of the Greengrass parents to his and Astoria's relationship had been playing in the back of his mind for weeks. He wasn't holding out much hope for heartfelt acceptance, but he would settle for them not outright forbidding Astoria from seeing him.
"I think it's safe to say that Mother wouldn't approve," said Daphne, a smirk returning to her face. "As for Father…who knows?" she shrugged, only to laugh bitterly a moment later. "I suppose having a daughter on either side of the war is one way to hedge your bets, so there's always that."
Harry winced slightly. "So, are you going to do it, then? Start kissing up to Malfoy?" he asked.
"Like hell I am!" she snapped, before shutting her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. "Sorry…that's part of why I lost control earlier — I'm absolutely furious with my mother. Ever since I read her letter, I've been fighting the temptation to curse Draco into oblivion, just to spite her, and I ended up taking it out on you instead."
Internally, Harry took the incident as a sign that Daphne needed to step away from Dark Magic just as much, if not more, than he did — but he didn't tell her that.
"Malfoy was harassing your sister at the Three Broomsticks yesterday," Harry suddenly revealed, his expression darkening.
"He what?" replied Daphne angrily. "And where were you?"
"I was meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Diggory in one of the private rooms," he explained. "Astoria was waiting downstairs with her friends, and when I came down, Malfoy was looming over their table."
"What was he doing there?"
"Just regurgitating his usual tripe, from what I could tell," shrugged Harry. "Saying she should get rid of me and start hanging around with respectable pure-bloods instead."
Daphne's eyes flashed. "Tell me you didn't let him get away with it," she practically growled.
"What was I supposed to do, curse him in the middle of the Three Broomsticks?" he countered. "I chased him and his bodyguards off, while letting him know what would happen if he tried anything with Astoria. There wasn't much else I could do."
"I suppose not, but something about the timing makes me nervous," replied Daphne. Seeing that Harry wasn't following, she explained, "Yesterday, you catch Draco chatting up my sister, and today I get a letter from home telling me to get closer to him? It makes me wonder if Lucius Malfoy isn't trying to court my family."
"I see what you mean," frowned Harry. "Do you think your mum's Death Eater cousin might have anything to do with it?"
"Possibly," she replied thoughtfully. "All I know is that I'm suddenly not looking forward to Christmas."
"Right…" said Harry, blowing out a breath.
"So, what now?"
Harry shrugged noncommittally. "Not much we can do, really," he said.
"Just keep practicing, I suppose," offered Daphne.
Harry sighed. This wasn't how he had envisioned bringing up the topic.
"About that…" he started. "I'm sorry, but I think tonight will be our last session together."
"What? Why?" Daphne replied sharply, leaning forward in her seat. "I told you I was sorry!"
"It has nothing to do with any of that," said Harry, attempting to reassure her. "There's just not enough time, but you can still —"
"What do you mean you don't have time?" interrupted Daphne, now starting to get angry. "You don't have Quidditch anymore — what else do you have to do?"
As soon as Harry opened his mouth to respond, he felt a pull on his magic as the Fidelius Charm reminded him of his responsibility. "Damn…" he muttered to himself, realising he wouldn't be able to explain without first telling her the secret. Simply inviting her to work with their original, smaller group didn't work either, as the Fidelius apparently considered it an extension of the main secret.
"First, pay attention to what I'm telling you," Harry instructed. "The members of the Hogwarts Underground meet in the Room of Requirement."
Daphne blinked a few times, then stared blankly back at him.
"The Hogwarts Underground is a defence club I started with Ron and Hermione," he explained. "We're hiding its existence with the Fidelius Charm so Umbridge doesn't find out, and I've just given you the secret."
"A Fidelius Charm?" she repeated, sounding impressed despite how angry she was. "Who cast…wait — it was Granger, wasn't it?"
"Obviously," nodded Harry. "The club is part of why I don't have as much free time. We're already meeting a least twice per week, plus I'm busy with Dumbledore, and —"
"Fine, then," said Daphne icily, crossing her arms and looking away from him. "Have fun teaching your Gryffindor friends the Disarming Charm — I'll work on real magic by myself," she added, standing up to leave.
"Daphne, wait," he said, rising to his feet as well. "We're going to have a sort of advanced group, and I think you should join us," he explained. "It won't be much different than what you and I have been doing — just a few more people and no Dark Magic."
Daphne gave him a scathing look. "Don't do me any favours, Harry," she spat, before storming out of the room.
As the door slammed shut, Harry collapsed back into his seat and rubbed his face with his hands.
"Bollocks."
oOoOoOo
"Did you get a chance to speak with Daphne?" Harry asked Astoria.
It had been a few days since his admittedly poor attempt to recruit Daphne for the Underground's advanced group, in lieu of their usual one-on-one training sessions. Harry could see her sitting with the rest of the fifth-year Slytherins on the other side of the Great Hall, even though she didn't appear particularly engaged in the conversations around her.
"I did," she replied. "She's definitely mad at you, but she didn't want to talk about it. I don't think she'll be joining you anytime soon, though."
"I didn't do a very good job of explaining — not that she really gave me a chance," sighed Harry. "I probably picked a bad time to bring it up."
"Probably," agreed Astoria. "She was fairly shaken by Mother's letter. Daphne likes to pretend she has everything under control, but I can tell she's worried."
"I know," he replied, thinking back to their last duel. "Tomorrow is the advanced group's first session. I was hoping she'd come around, but…"
"Who's coming around?" asked Ron, dropping into the seat across from Harry. His hair was dripping wet, and he looked as though he had dressed himself in a hurry.
"No one," replied Harry, taking in his friend's appearance. "Where've you been?"
"Quidditch practice ran long," he replied with a shrug. "Where's Hermione?"
"No idea," he replied, then added in a whisper, "I have another lesson with Dumbledore tonight, so I came down early."
Ron's eyes lit up. "Wicked…You're going to show us what he teaches you, right?" he asked eagerly.
"Probably," chuckled Harry. "We've got thirteen coming for tomorrow, so we'll see how it goes."
"Really? Who else did you invite?"
"Our original seven, of course," he said, "plus Dean and Lee, Boot and Corner from Ravenclaw, Susan Bones, and —"
Harry coughed behind his hand.
"…McLaggen…"
Ron just stared back at him, his fork stopping midway between the plate and his mouth.
"Really, Harry? You just had to invite that berk?"
"Sorry…" he replied apologetically. "Look on the bright side, though — this way, you'll be able to duel him whenever he gets out of line."
"I hadn't even thought of that," muttered Ron, looking much happier. "Cheers, Harry."
Harry chuckled and went back to his dinner. He didn't care much for Cormac either, but there was no denying that he might be useful in a fight. Being in the same House, he already knew that Dean Thomas and Lee Jordan were fairly talented, but he hadn't expected Terry Boot and Michael Corner to stand out as much as they had. Susan Bones was also a bit of a surprise, until Harry found out that her aunt was Amelia Bones — the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, who had been giving Susan private lessons for years.
"Would you mind if I came and watched you sometimes?" Astoria asked him.
"Hmm? Of course not," replied Harry, setting his fork down. "I'm not sure how exciting it'll be, but you're always welcome."
Astoria smiled at him and leaned into his side a bit. "If it gets too boring, I'll just work on homework," she said. "I like watching you teach, though — you're really good at it. Besides," she added, a little more quietly, "once you're finished, we can spend some time together before curfew."
"I'll have to make sure training doesn't run too long, then," Harry grinned in reply, giving her a wink for good measure.
"Mm-hmm…just try not to get too sweaty," teased Astoria.
"I'll see what I can do," he laughed, before checking his watch. "Besides, I've been meaning to find some time for us to talk," he whispered quietly. "Now that we're together, there are some things I think you should know."
"Like what?" she asked, frowning slightly.
"I can't really say here. I've told you most of it already, just not all the details."
"Oh," she replied, with dawning comprehension. "Are you sure that's okay?"
"Definitely," he nodded. "Anyway, I need to get going. Is Umbridge still watching?"
Astoria stole a glance at the staff table. "No, it looks like she's in the middle of reading something. If you leave now, she might not even notice," she told him.
"Great, see you tomorrow, then," he replied, and then got up from the table and swiftly made his way out of the Great Hall. As soon as he cleared the doors, he put on his Invisibility Cloak and started towards Dumbledore's office.
It would be his first time speaking to the headmaster since their trip to Godric's Hollow on Halloween. While Harry had appreciated all of Dumbledore's lessons up to that point, he was really looking forward to learning duelling secrets from the only wizard ever capable of matching Voldemort. He was also curious to find out whether or not he was on the right track about the Deathly Hallows, but it was difficult to predict how forthcoming Dumbledore would be on that particular topic.
"You may enter," called the headmaster's voice, in response to Harry's knocking.
"Good evening, Professor."
"Good evening, Harry."
Professor Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, wearing robes of deep maroon with a purple under-layer. Harry could feel the headmaster's eyes on him as he took his usual seat, giving him the distinct impression that he was being examined. Whatever he was looking for, Dumbledore must have approved of what he found, because he was wearing a broad smile by the time Harry looked back up at him.
"I must say, you are looking quite well, Harry," said Dumbledore.
"Er — thank you, sir," he replied awkwardly. "You don't look so bad yourself."
"I am relieved to hear it," said the headmaster, chuckling. "May I assume your classes are going well?"
"Yes, sir."
"As I expected," he nodded. "I also take it you are having no difficulty balancing your extra-curricular activities?" the professor added inquisitively.
Harry looked back at Dumbledore curiously. "I'm…not sure what you mean, Professor. I'm not on the Quidditch team anymore," he responded.
"I see — then perhaps my information is inaccurate," replied Dumbledore, a look of amusement peeking out from behind his beard. "You see, Professor Umbridge has been rather adamant that you are responsible for leading an illegal student group."
"Really?" said Harry, as innocently as he could muster. "What sort of illegal group?"
"Oddly enough, she could not say," remarked Dumbledore, one corner of his mouth twitching. "If I were to venture a guess — based on your specific talents, and the current needs of the students — I believe a Defence Against the Dark Arts study group would be a logical choice."
Harry chuckled to himself. Trust Dumbledore to figure it out on his own.
"That's an interesting theory, sir," he replied.
"Ah, but would you say it is an accurate theory?" he countered, not discouraged in the slightest by Harry's vague answer.
"Well…if it was, sir…" replied Harry, choosing his words carefully, "…then I literally couldn't say."
Professor Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly. "Is that so?" he said bemusedly. "Yes, that would explain a few things…Let it never be said that you and your friends lack ingenuity. Very well, I shall pursue the matter no further."
"Thank you, sir," replied Harry. "Speaking of Umbridge, have you heard she has her own secret group for spying on students now?"
"Indeed, I have," the headmaster replied evenly. "Comprised almost entirely of Slytherins, I believe — which helps to explain their commanding lead in House points."
"Is there nothing you can do about it?"
"Perhaps," said Dumbledore, taking a moment to respond. "However, I do not believe that to be the correct course of action. Professor Umbridge is desperate to bring the school under her control," he explained. "Allowing her this relatively harmless indiscretion may prevent or delay her from pursuing more drastic measures, born out of frustration."
Harry nodded his understanding. "I suppose that makes sense," he said, even if he was disappointed in the answer.
Dumbledore inclined his head towards Harry. "Now, before we begin this evening's lesson, I have another matter to discuss with you," he said, his expression growing serious. "Two nights ago, Lord Voldemort's snake attempted to gain entry to the Department of Mysteries."
"His snake did?"
"An interesting development for a number of reasons," replied Dumbledore. "Fortunately, Nymphadora was on guard duty and was able to force Nagini to retreat without further incident."
"Did he really think a snake could get the prophecy for him?"
"I do not believe so. One of the escaped Death Eaters, Augustus Rookwood, was employed as an Unspeakable prior to his incarceration," Dumbledore informed him. "With Rookwood's knowledge, Voldemort likely has all the information he needs regarding the interior of the Department of Mysteries. It is my belief that Nagini was there to perform reconnaissance on the security surrounding the entrance."
"But sir, if Voldemort does show up there…"
"It would not end well for whomever was guarding the entrance," replied Dumbledore, nodding gravely, "which is why Order members will no longer be stationed there. I have placed monitoring spells in the corridor outside the Department, but I believe it best to remove the prophecy at the earliest possible opportunity."
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn't stand the thought of someone like Tonks or Mr. Weasley being caught between Voldemort and his goal. Removing the prophecy seemed like a good idea, but there was a small hitch to Dumbledore's plan.
"But sir, didn't you say that only me or him could touch it?"
"That is indeed our conundrum," confirmed the professor. "I can arrange for our admission to the Department of Mysteries, but it would be difficult to explain your presence at the Ministry — and it would be unwise to attempt to enter the building undetected," he added, heading off Harry before he could suggest using his Cloak.
Harry sat and thought for a moment, and idea forming in his head. "Well, I am supposed to meet with Madam Bones on the twenty-third of December. I could always take the prophecy while I'm there," he suggested.
"Is that so?" said Professor Dumbledore, sounding intrigued. "As part of her investigation into Mr. Diggory's death, I take it? May I assume that Mr. Cartwright will be representing you again?"
"Yes, we're meeting at his office before we go to the Ministry."
"I see," said the professor, slowly stroking his beard. "Yes…that just may work. Perhaps a bit later than I would have preferred, but considering the alternative —" he continued, more to himself than to Harry. "Yes," he said finally, "we shall retrieve the prophecy at the conclusion of your meeting. Allow me to make the necessary arrangements."
Harry nodded his agreement.
"I do have one final topic, before we proceed," Dumbledore continued, folding his hands in front of him. "What would you say if I told you I have become quite curious about the behaviour of Lord Voldemort's snake?" Harry just looked back at him curiously, so he continued, "Tuesday's incident is only the latest example of the unusual level of control Voldemort has over Nagini, even for a Parselmouth. Sending her to into the Ministry alone, as he did, suggests two things to me: First, Nagini has a much higher degree of intelligence than the average python, and second, Voldemort actually trusts her to do his bidding — even without him being present."
"When you put it that way, it does seem a bit odd," agreed Harry, after a moment's thought. "What does it mean, though?"
Professor Dumbledore tilted his head and peered at Harry over his glasses. "Can you think of no possible explanation for their unusual connection?" he enquired, in a significant tone that suggested Harry was missing something.
The headmaster waited patiently while Harry attempted to work out the puzzle. He could only come up with one idea that even remotely made sense, but he had a hard time believing it was possible.
"Sir, you don't think —" Harry started, before stopping to shake his head. "Did he turn his snake…into a Horcrux?"
"That is the conclusion I arrived at as well," Dumbledore said approvingly.
"Why would he do that?" asked Harry, clearly not understanding. "Wouldn't it be smarter to use something that can be hidden away, like the others?"
"That would be the more sensible approach," agreed Dumbledore. "That being said, hubris has always been Tom's greatest weakness. Fixated as he is on being the last heir of Salazar Slytherin, I have no difficulty believing he would entrust part of his soul to his loyal serpent. In addition, Voldemort believes that he alone knows of the existence of his Horcruxes, and he likely cannot even fathom the possibility of Nagini being destroyed."
"So, the diary, the locket, Ravenclaw's tiara, and the one in me have all been destroyed," said Harry, counting off Horcruxes with his fingers. "Plus, we're pretty sure about Nagini and Hufflepuff's cup — how many do you think he made?"
Professor Dumbledore steepled his fingers in front of him, as if contemplating what to say next.
"It is my theory that Tom intended to create six Horcruxes," the professor said finally. "I know you have not taken Arithmancy, but the number seven is quite magically significant. I believe that having a seven-part soul would appeal greatly to Lord Voldemort, and mutilating his soul to that degree would certainly explain his physical changes over the years."
"If that's true, then there should only be two left, right? Nagini and the cup?" said Harry, checking his math.
"Ah, you are forgetting that Voldemort never intended, and likely does not even know that he left a piece of his soul within you on the night of his downfall," Dumbledore corrected him. "Assuming he achieved his goal, that would leave a third, unknown Horcrux for us to discover."
"Oh, right," Harry said glumly.
"Of course, that is merely a theory — one which I am still working to confirm," the professor added. "I have, however, seen enough evidence to convince me that I am correct."
"Didn't you say you had a lead on one?" asked Harry.
"Indeed, I do. If all goes well, I may be calling on you a second time during the holidays, so that we might retrieve it together."
"Sounds good, sir," Harry said enthusiastically, very much looking forward to the prospect.
"Excellent," replied Dumbledore, rising to his feet. "Then let us get on with this evening's lesson. Follow me, please."
Harry followed Professor Dumbledore out of his office and down the stairs, donning his Invisibility Cloak as he walked. They marched through the corridors without speaking, occasionally diverting their route in favour of using the castle's secret passageways — including some even Harry had never used before. Several minutes later, Harry found himself being led down a wide, stone staircase and into a room that was eerily familiar to him.
In the centre of the cavernous room was a large, sunken floor, surrounded on all sides by rows of stone steps, or perhaps even benches, reminiscent of an ancient Roman theatre. Adding to the effect were the columned archways all around the perimeter, supporting the room's vast domed ceiling. The only light came from the torches affixed to the wall using old-fashioned iron sconces, making it easy to believe that the room had remained unchanged for several centuries.
"Sir, this is —"
"The room where you confronted Quirinus Quirrell, thereby preventing Voldemort from procuring the Philosopher's Stone," Professor Dumbledore finished for him.
"Right…but why are we here?" questioned Harry.
"This is one of the older parts of the castle, which has been imbued with several magical protections," explained the professor. "To make a long story short, it is one of the few places in Hogwarts where we may practice destructive magic without causing significant damage."
Dumbledore looked around the room once more before continuing his explanation.
"It also seems a fitting venue for our next lesson, which shall cover the most fundamental of magical techniques, developed and honed by generations of witches and wizards for well over a millennium," continued Dumbledore. "I am speaking, of course, of the manipulation and control of the four classical elements: fire, water, earth, and air. I take it you are familiar with some of the related spells?"
"Er — well, there's Incendio and Aguamenti, obviously," responded Harry. "I just learned about Ventus, the Wind Spell, but the only one I can think of for earth would be the Hardening Charm, but I'm not sure if that counts or not."
"Very good," replied Dumbledore. "There is a branch of Earth Magic related to revitalising the land itself, augmenting our ability to grow and cultivate from it. A marvellous discipline though it may be, there is little use for it in duelling, so we shall focus more on the other three. There are, however, a few related tricks I can show you," he added, almost as an afterthought.
"Transfiguring rocks and stone in a fight can be pretty effective, if you know what you're doing," Harry pointed out, thinking back to his last duel with Daphne.
"Indeed, it can — particularly for those with the requisite skill and creativity," agreed Dumbledore. "Speaking of which, Professor McGonagall was quite pleased with the progress you made whilst serving your detentions."
"Those lessons were brilliant," he replied. "Way better than writing lines for Umbridge."
"I should expect so," the headmaster chuckled. "Now, observe using both your eyes and your senses as I cast this spell."
Professor Dumbledore turned his back to Harry, and a fountain of flame suddenly erupted from his wand and sped across the room, somewhat resembling the muggle flame-thrower Harry had seen in one of Uncle Vernon's old war films. Even standing several feet away, Harry could feel the intense heat of Dumbledore's spell and the breathtaking magical power of the man himself.
Harry looked on with intense curiosity as the professor slowly raised his left hand, his palm splayed as if he were carrying an invisible Quaffle. The intensity of the flames suddenly magnified, and with a flick of his wand, the stream of fire shot up towards the ceiling. Before Harry could even react to what he was seeing, Professor Dumbledore thrust both of his hands downward, causing the flames to split into two separate streams, which then arced towards the ground and slammed into the stone floor, before finally being extinguished.
For a few moments, Harry just stared in awe at the Hogwarts headmaster. He had never seen anything quite like it. The power of the spell alone was remarkable, but the way Dumbledore had manipulated the flames to move the way they had was absolutely mind-boggling.
"That…was incredible, sir," he said in a weak voice.
"Your flattery is appreciated, but unnecessary," replied Dumbledore with a slight bow. "Are you able to guess the spell I just demonstrated?"
Harry shook his head. "No, sir — I've never seen a spell like that before," he admitted.
Dumbledore smiled at him knowingly. "Ah, then you may be surprised to learn that it was merely Incendio — the very same Fire-Making Spell taught in your first-year Charms class," he revealed.
"Wha — really?" spluttered Harry, completely flabbergasted.
"Oh yes," Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "The goal of this lesson is to impress upon you the near limitless potential of magic, especially when harnessed by those with exceptional power and control. People like you, Harry."
"Me?" asked Harry. "Do you really think I'll be able to do magic like that one day?"
"Goodness, no," chuckled Professor Dumbledore. "I expect you to perform magic like that today."
Harry just stared blankly back at the professor for a moment, fighting off a brief wave of nausea. Did Dumbledore really expect him to pull off something that advanced, all in one day? Harry knew his magic had improved by leaps and bounds over the past few months, but that was still a lot to ask of a fifteen-year-old wizard. The headmaster, of course, seemed to know exactly what Harry was thinking and was already prepared to reassure him.
"Trust me, Harry, you are already more than capable of doing what I just showed you," said Dumbledore encouragingly. "If you prefer, you may start with water, rather than fire," he added, before stepping aside to give Harry room to work.
Deciding that not being burned was indeed preferable to the alternative, he drew his wand and murmured, "Aguamenti."
A stream of water burst from the tip, and for a moment, Harry just stood there trying to figure out what to do next. He poured more magic into the spell, but all he succeeded in doing was greatly increasing the size of the puddle on the floor. After a minute, Harry ended his spell and turned towards Professor Dumbledore.
"Sir, what exactly am I supposed to be doing?" he asked, taking a step backwards to prevent his shoes from getting wet.
"Ah, I thought you would never ask," Dumbledore replied jovially, causing Harry to subtly roll his eyes. "You are attempting to use your magic to guide or give shape to the water, as you are conjuring it. It is a difficult concept to grasp at first, but your earlier efforts to learn how to feel and interpret magic will serve you well here."
"I saw you using your left hand earlier," recalled Harry. "Is that what you were doing? Guiding the magic?"
Dumbledore nodded in confirmation. "Out of the various techniques I have experimented with, I find that using my off hand provides the most control," he explained. "Also remember that the conjured water will remain connected to your magic for a time, so use that to your advantage."
Seventy rather soggy minutes later, Harry was finally beginning to make some real progress.
"Good, Harry!" exclaimed Dumbledore.
Hovering a few feet in front of Harry was a swirling sphere of water about a foot wide, fed by the controlled stream coming from his wand. His brow was dripping with sweat as he focused all of his concentration on the task at hand.
"Now, try to increase the size."
Harry was already feeling fatigued, but he complied with the headmaster's request without question. He allowed his magic to flow freely into his spell, and the gentle stream of water flowing from his wand became a geyser. The watery sphere rapidly began growing, making it even more difficult for Harry to hold together. Before long, it was well over a metre in diameter and dripping from the bottom as he struggled to maintain control.
"That's enough, Harry," said Dumbledore finally.
With a grunt of relief, Harry ended the spell, and the gigantic ball of water splashed to the floor, soaking the bottom of his robes. With an exasperated sigh, he dried himself off with his wand and sat down on the second row of stairs.
"Sorry, sir," said Harry, panting from the exertion, "but I don't think I have it in me to start on fire tonight."
Dumbledore did not seem at all put out by Harry's declaration. "Not to worry," he said reassuringly. "While fire moves and behaves differently from water, you will find that both respond to your magic in a similar manner. You will have no difficulty achieving the same results with fire, especially once you are more well-rested."
"That's good; I definitely need more practice though," replied Harry.
"And you shall have it," said Dumbledore. "You are to meet with me, in this room, twice per week through the end of term. Your next lesson will be Monday after dinner."
"Sounds good, sir — assuming I can find this room again."
"You have my full confidence," chuckled Dumbledore. "You should be proud of what you have achieved tonight, Harry. Very few wizards could have made such tremendous progress in so little time," he reiterated. "Do you have any further questions for me this evening?"
Harry thought about it for a moment, then made his decision.
"I do, sir, but not about today's lesson."
"Oh? Then how may I be of service?" Dumbledore replied with interest, as Harry stood and met his gaze.
"I was wondering what you'd be willing to tell me about the Deathly Hallows."
oOoOoOo
After a lengthy discussion with Dumbledore, Harry returned to his common room hoping his friends would still be up waiting for him, and he was not disappointed. He had barely made it through the portrait hole when Ron stood up and beckoned him over to where he, Hermione, and Neville were sitting.
"We were wondering if you were going to make it back before curfew," said Hermione, as Harry sank into one of the plush armchairs.
"Well, I made it," he replied with his eyes closed.
"Are you all right?" asked Neville. "You look like you're about to fall asleep."
Harry opened his eyes and forced himself to sit up straighter. "I'm completely spent," he admitted. "I had to use a lot of magic tonight."
"Sounds like Dumbledore really put you through your paces," Ron said excitedly. "You're still going to show us what he taught you, right?"
"I can try, but I don't think it'll be what you're expecting," he replied tiredly. "It wasn't what I was expecting, that's for sure."
"What d'you mean?" asked Ron, frowning slightly.
"Well, for starters, the only spell I cast tonight was Aguamenti," he explained, and then went on to describe his lesson in full, including Dumbledore's opening demonstration. As exhausted as he was, Harry didn't pick up on the astonished looks exchanged between his friends as he was recounting his evening.
"Harry, what you're describing sounds impossible," Hermione said quietly, as Ron and Neville nodded in agreement. "I mean, it obviously isn't," she added hurriedly, not wanting to give the impression that they didn't believe him. "It's just that I've never heard of anyone being able to control a spell after it had been cast."
"It's not really controlling a spell," Harry corrected her, his face scrunching up as he tried to think of the best way to explain. "It's more like using your magic to manipulate the water. It's just easier to do with an element you've conjured yourself, since it came from your own magic to begin with."
"Whatever it is, it sounds too complicated for me," said Ron, sounding disappointed. "That's all right though, I'm sure there's still loads you can show us."
"I definitely wouldn't be able to do it," agreed Neville.
"I can still show you, just don't expect me to be able to explain it as well as Dumbledore," said Harry. "It's more about feel anyway."
"Did Professor Dumbledore say when your next lesson will be?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Monday," he replied. "We're meeting twice a week now, at least until the holidays."
"Harry, how are you going to manage Dumbledore, the Underground, our advanced group, and still have time for your homework?" asked Hermione sternly.
"It's not going to be easy," he admitted. "Having a free period while you're in Defence helps, but if it winds up being too much, we might have to change some things after the holidays. Dumbledore knows about the Underground, by the way," he added, to the surprise of his fellow Gryffindors. "Not the secret parts, obviously, but he was able to work out on his own that we've organised a Defence club. He seems to approve, though."
"Well…I suppose that's a good thing," Hermione said thoughtfully.
"That's not all we talked about," continued Harry. "Once we finished with the lesson, I asked him about the Deathly Hallows."
"You didn't!" hissed Hermione, just quietly enough not to attract attention.
"Of course, I did," Harry replied with a confused look. "He's the one who gave me the book in the first place, so why wouldn't I?"
"Go on then, what'd he say?" said Ron, before Hermione could respond.
"Well to sum it up, we were pretty much right about everything," he explained, causing Hermione to lapse into a stunned silence. "My cloak is definitely the Cloak. Apparently, my dad told Dumbledore he inherited it from my grandfather, who called it a family heirloom."
"Wicked…" said Ron, while Neville just shook his head in disbelief.
"Is it okay for me to be hearing this?" the boy asked worriedly.
"Of course, Neville; I trust you," Harry reassured him. "Just don't tell anyone else, especially Luna — if her dad is as obsessed with the Hallows as she made it sound, it's probably best if she doesn't find out."
"That's fair — thanks, Harry," replied Neville.
"Dumbledore also agrees that Marvolo Gaunt's ring might be the Resurrection Stone," continued Harry. "The only problem is that we think Voldemort stole the ring from his Uncle Morfin, so he either still has it, or he turned it into one of his Horcruxes."
The other three paled at the implications, Hermione in particular.
"Bloody hell…" Ron said quietly, easing back into his seat.
"Even if he does have it, there's a good chance he doesn't recognise it for what it is," shrugged Harry. "If it makes you feel any better, Hermione, Dumbledore agrees with you that the whole thing about meeting Death is just a story."
"Obviously," she replied shortly.
"His theory is that the Peverell brothers created three ridiculously powerful magical objects on their own, and 'The Tale of the Three Brothers' is simply a legend that sprung up around them," he explained. "That being said, Dumbledore thinks there's probably more truth to the story than we'd suspect — which is why he lent me his copy of the original version. He also told me to pass along his compliments on your translation," he added, addressing Hermione. "He was pretty well shocked that we'd managed to figure everything out so quickly."
"What about the Wand?" Neville asked quietly.
Harry shook his head. "All Dumbledore would say is that he's seen enough to convince him that it does, in fact, exist," he said disappointedly. "Now that I think about it, all he really did was confirm what we already knew. He didn't give me much new information, at least not about the Hallows themselves. It's almost like he wants us to figure it all out on our own."
"Sounds like Dumbledore," snorted Ron. "Just look at the last four-and-a-half years."
"Well, if you want to spend your time chasing legends and fairy tales, that's your business," Hermione muttered resignedly. "I've done my part with the translation, but that's as far as I'm willing to go."
"No worries, Hermione; I appreciate what you've done," Harry told her sincerely. "I'm not about to drop everything and go hunting for Hallows, either — I've got enough on my plate as it is."
"Right, like planning for tomorrow's Underground session," said Ron excitedly. "I've got some ideas I wanted to run by you," he continued, and the four Gryffindors huddled together to work out the details.
Once they were done, Harry immediately excused himself and marched up to his dorm. He pulled the curtains around his four-poster and was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, any thoughts of the Deathly Hallows relegated to the back of his mind.