CHAPTER 38: THE RISE OF THE PINK REBELLION

The front page of the Daily Prophet prominently featured the visage of Dolores Umbridge, her pallid face adorned with a saccharine smile. Columns of text sprawled from the apex of her beret down to her glossy, elevated heels. In the soft, flickering glow of the common room fire, the glint in her eyes held an eerie crimson hue reminiscent of Tom Riddle's malevolent gleam.

Educational Decree Twenty-Five. Harry perused the article's contents. Student-run organizations. In a fit of frustration, he discarded the paper into the voracious flames of the common room hearth. Somebody had indiscreetly discussed their activities. One of the two Ravenclaw girls who had left with Cho was the likely culprit. Given that several days had passed without anyone running afoul of Hermione's meticulously crafted list, it seemed probable.

"Opportunity arises," Harry mused, his lips curling into a sly smile. He retrieved the Marauders' Map from his pocket. "Cho... Cho... There you are in the library."

Concealing himself under a Disillusionment Charm, he ventured off to the library. If Umbridge placed her trust in Cho enough to secure an educational decree based on her word, she would trust her when the time came to introduce Dumbledore's Army to her.

Harry nimbly slipped through the library entrance, just as Hermione emerged, her arms laden with a bulging bag. He navigated the labyrinth of bookshelves, bypassing a couple of diligent sixth-years, until he secured a seat with a strategic line of sight to Cho's lustrous, dark locks and her two companions, Marietta Edgecombe and Lisa Turpin.

Deciding between the two, Harry focused on Marietta. With his wand concealed up his sleeve, he aimed it discreetly at her. "Legilimens," he whispered, carefully extracting a minimal amount of magical energy for the spell.

A fleeting torrent of incomprehensible images flashed before his eyes, the connection too faint to decipher.

"Legilimens," he uttered once more, this time channeling a tad more magical force.

In Marietta's thoughts, the image of a Ravenclaw boy materialized: his chiseled jawline, piercing eyes, prominent cheekbones, and the taut grip of his quill, the veins coursing up his forearms. Cedric. Her best friend's boyfriend. Harry projected an impression of the color pink into her mind, artfully intertwining it with Marietta's daydreams.

From the depths of Marietta's consciousness, Umbridge's visage surfaced. The taste of sickeningly sweet, milk-drenched tea tantalized Harry's taste buds as he recited words about an underground organization clandestinely opposing the Ministry's regime.

Harry concealed his satisfaction, ensuring Marietta remained oblivious to his intrusion, and then severed the connection. It was clear to him that Marietta would be the one to relay this crucial information to Umbridge.

Exiting the library, he passed by Marietta, who appeared to be massaging her temples in discomfort.

"Are you okay?" Cho inquired.

Harry couldn't help but eavesdrop on their conversation. "I wouldn't fuss, Cho," he thought to himself. He glanced down the empty corridors and dispelled his invisibility, making his way back towards the common room. "She'd throw herself at Cedric the moment you turned your back if she thought he'd have her."

Just then, Katie rounded the corner from the staircase leading to Gryffindor Tower. "How was Arithmancy this morning?"

Harry grimaced, admitting, "It's not easy, and it's not as interesting as I hoped, but it isn't boring either."

Katie smiled knowingly. "Like all subjects, then. It's not your strongest area, so I wouldn't worry about it."

"I wasn't worrying," Harry responded. "I'm much better at Charms and Transfiguration, but Arithmancy is very useful. It helps in understanding why certain things happen in some areas of magic."

Mostly in rituals, warding, and enchanting, he thought to himself.

"Have you seen the Daily Prophet?" Harry inquired.

Katie, curious, tightened her grip on his wrist. "No? Did you do something, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "It's not to do with me. Well, not directly to do with me. I'll show you at lunch; someone always has a copy lying around to read while they eat."

Katie nodded and tugged Harry along as they navigated past a younger Creevey who had become entangled in one of the trick steps.

"Confundo," Harry muttered, his fingers wrapping around his wand.

"Thank you!" Mini-Creevey exclaimed. "Thank you. Thank you. I've been here for almost fifteen minutes."

Katie laughed. "Someone must've stuck him in it. Even Mini-Creevey can't have managed to get three limbs stuck on his own."

"Have you ever had an unfortunate incident with a trick step?" Harry inquired.

Katie confessed, "Got stuck in one after curfew once, but Alicia and Angelina got me out." A mischievous gleam sparkled in her mahogany eyes. "Good thing it wasn't you with me. Who knows what sort of thing you'd have made me do to get out? And what choice would poor, helpless me have had but to do whatever you wanted?"

Harry choked in surprise. "What?"

Katie replied innocently, "What?"

"Somebody would kill both of us if anything like that happened," Harry replied with a grin.

Katie giggled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "It'd be worth it."

Harry chuckled. "Not if you're not in that seashell bra."

Katie leaned in and whispered, "I doubt I'd be in any bra in that sort of situation."

"I think you've forgotten about a large number of portraits who'd be watching us the whole time," Harry quipped. "You'd be joining me in detention with Snape every week."

Katie wrinkled her nose. "Urgh. Yeah. Wouldn't want any of them seeing me with my boobs out." She tugged Harry to the nearest empty seat, politely shooing away a couple of second years. "So, what's happened?"

Harry glanced down the table, spotting an unattended newspaper. With a subtle wave of his hand and a hint of magic, he summoned the paper to them.

Katie blinked, then beamed. "That's really impressive," she gushed. "You're so powerful and brilliant, my lord." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "No need to worry about seashell bras getting in the way now, huh, Harry?"

Harry snorted and served himself a slice of pie. "Hush, you. It's taken me hours and hours of being too lazy to get up and carry books around to be able to do that. I'm allowed to show it off."

Katie playfully waved her fork at the teacher's table. "So it probably took Dumbledore hours of practice to be able to light the candles on his lectern like he does to impress the first years every year."

Harry laughed. "I'd never thought about that, but yes, probably."

"So, what did you want to show me?" Katie asked, flipping through the pages from the Quidditch results. "Haven't seen anything particularly shocking except for the Chudley Cannons managing their only win of the season."

Harry turned the paper around and tapped Umbridge's face with his finger. "That."

"Educational Decree Twenty-Five," Katie read. "That doesn't sound good."

"Every student-run club or organization has to apply to her for permission to continue," Harry explained, savoring a mouthful of pie drenched in rich gravy.

Katie dropped her fork into her lap and paled. "The Quidditch team..."

Harry choked on his pie, coughing until a few crumbs emerged from his lungs, which he quickly swallowed. "The DA. Someone must've told her, and she must've written to Fudge to try and stop it."

Katie frowned. "Since when were we calling it the DA?"

Harry lowered his voice. "Do you want to be heard talking about Dumbledore's Army and get sent to see Umbridge?"

Katie pouted. "Not when you put it like that. I've not seen anything of Umbridge today, though, and apparently she wasn't in her class this morning."

Harry hid a smile. "Has anyone had detention with her recently?"

"Colin Creevey. Again," Katie replied, her eyes widening. "You tampered with her quill… You don't think that's why, do you?"

Harry allowed himself a small, cold smile. "I hope it is; otherwise, she's probably causing trouble for someone somewhere."

"Maybe she's redecorating her office," Katie suggested. "It's about time someone pointed out to her how hideous it is."

"Maybe that's why Creevey had detention," Harry murmured, stifling a chuckle. "She probably has 'I must not criticize the color pink' permanently scarred into her hand now."

Katie scrunched up her face. "So who do you think told her?"

"Nobody whose name's on that list," Harry replied. "Otherwise, we'd know."

"We aren't likely to find out who, then," Katie growled. "Damn."

"You'll have to settle for hexing firsties," Harry suggested.

A group of first years, who had inched further down the table, nervously tugged their plates with them. Katie watched them go and giggled.

Then, Neville joined them, collapsing onto the bench beside Harry. "I've been looking for you since the end of your first class."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"You said you'd have a look at my shield charm for me," Neville said. "And now I have to teach it to a load of people, I need you to do it soon."

"Well, if you come with me in a moment, I'll take a look in an empty classroom," Harry said, his thoughts sly. "And by that, I mean Umbridge's classroom. Let's see if she's fallen afoul of her own quill yet."

"Thanks," Neville sighed in relief. "I don't know why it trembles; it's like I can't quite get my magic to do what I want."

"Hopefully, we can figure it out. Have you decided what you're going to teach first?" Harry asked.

"The shield charm, then a few of the jinxes," Neville replied, helping himself to the Daily Prophet and frowning. "Have you seen this?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "Someone ratted us all out to Umbridge. I've not seen any hint of Hermione's curse, though."

Neville grimaced. "Looks like we'll have to be careful, then."

Harry contemplated his next move, weighing the risks. "Keep an eye out for anyone who doesn't come to the first meeting and then take their badge back if they've backed out. If Umbridge knows about a few of us and gets her hands on that badge, she'll manage to track us all down."

Harry then injected a trace of worry into his tone. "Where's the list? Can't have her finding that, and I'd bet she'll be after the power to go through everyone's stuff soon, if she's not already."

"Hermione has it," Neville responded.

Harry contemplated his options, deciding to guide Neville toward a specific course of action. "Hermione... She'll figure out it's something to do with me if I'm more than half-involved. Let's see if I can get Neville to put it in the Room of Requirement's room of hidden things. He might've discovered it if I'm lucky; otherwise, I'll need to choose my words carefully so he goes looking."

"Make sure she hides it somewhere safe," Harry said, emphasizing the importance. "Umbridge will be looking for any proof the group still exists, and she'll be able to go through all our stuff and anywhere teachers can access if she asks Fudge for more decrees. The meetings are safe since we're in the Room of Requirement, but that list will get us all on Umbridge's detention roster." Harry chose his words carefully. "Hermione will want to find a room where it'll stay hidden."

Neville blinked, then his face lit up with understanding. "I know where she can hide it. If we're safe in the room, then the list will be too, right?"

"I guess," Harry replied, concealing his true intentions with a nonchalant shrug. "If there's a place to hide things."

With each carefully chosen word, Harry inched closer to his goal. "Coming, Nev?" he asked, glancing at Umbridge as she took her seat at the staff table. He noted a clean, white bandage wrapped around her right hand. Satisfaction crept in, knowing he had inflicted her with a mysterious wound. "Yeah." Nev straightened his robes and stood up. "I'm coming."

Katie, however, played a different angle, attempting to guilt-trip Harry. "What about me? Just because I refused to let you do whatever you wanted to me if I got stuck in a trick step, you're going to ditch me?" She feigned a quivering lip and bowed her head. "Fine, if that's what it takes, Harry. I'll let you have your way with me, however you like."

Neville blushed intensely, his entire face aflame.

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "You're terrible, Katie. Nev might explode if you keep saying things like that." He patted her on the top of the head. "You've got Charms now, anyway. Nev and I are free for the rest of the day."

"I've got Herbology last thing, actually," Nev muttered.

"Well, I'm free all day," Harry said, smirking, and waved goodbye to Katie.

She shot him a playful glower and winked. "Catch me later, Harry."

As Harry strolled through the corridors toward Umbridge's room, Nev inquired, "Which empty classroom?" He peered into every one they passed. "There are loads..."

"This one," Harry said with a grin, ushering Nev into Umbridge's room and pulling out the invisibility cloak.

"Not again, Harry," Nev moaned.

Once inside Umbridge's office, Harry noticed that the pink drapes were askew, there were gaps in the collection of decorative china pieces on the walls, and a small stack of parchment rested on the corner of her desk, with a single line of rust-brown writing at the top: "I mustn't blindly believe the lies of others." He released a soft laugh and slipped back out of the office. "Perfect."

"Are you done?" Nev demanded.

"I haven't done anything," Harry replied. "I just wanted to see what Creevey had written. I suspect it's left an impression."

Neville fought a smile. "I hope it didn't do too much damage, though. That'll just make things worse."

Harry waved his hand at Nev and sat on the nearest desk. "Show me your shield, then."

"Protego," Neville intoned, raising and waving his wand. A glowing wall of silver light sprang up around him, but a faint tremor rippled through it every few seconds, moving in random directions.

"I don't know what's wrong with it," Nev muttered. "My pronunciation, my wand motion, and my intent are all clear."

Harry touched his wand to the shield and closed his eyes, analyzing it. "It's malformed, twisted. Your intent and everything else are clear, but the magic comes out warped."

Neville looked puzzled. "Any idea?"

"Try not to be offended," Harry warned.

"I'm not good enough to do it, am I?" Neville mumbled.

"If I'm right about what's wrong, then it can easily be fixed," Harry reassured him. "It looks like something's going wrong with your magic after you've cast the spell, which means it's not your fault." He pointed his wand at Neville's. "That's your father's wand, right?"

Neville nodded.

"It's possible that your problem is due to using a wand that isn't quite right for you," Harry said. "You're unlikely to be perfectly suited to your father's wand, and you might be better off getting one of your own."

Neville's eyes blazed, and his knuckles tightened on the wand until they whitened. "There's nothing wrong with the wand."

Harry sensed that he had touched a sensitive subject. "Here," he said, holding out his own wand. "Try using mine."

Neville accepted the wand and raised it. "Protego." A faint shimmer of silver light surrounded him, but then Neville hissed in pain and dropped Harry's wand on the desk, causing the shield to fade.

"It burnt me!" Neville turned his hand to show Harry the thin red mark along the length of his palm. "See?"

"Sorry," Harry said as he retrieved his wand, recalling memories of Bertha Jorkins' failed fire spell and her weak conjured ropes. "I think it's quite strongly bonded to me. It doesn't play well with others."

"I take your point about not using a wand that isn't suited to you," Neville admitted. "I'll talk to Gran about it. If I find a wand better suited to me at Ollivander's, then maybe that will fix things."

"It should help you with everything," Harry said. "A wand is the conduit through which you use your magic, and the better matched to you it is, the easier you'll find performing magic."

"That makes sense," Neville murmured, still looking a bit disappointed. "But still..."

Harry looked at the wand and then back at Neville, seeing the faint gleam of disappointment in his eyes. "Just because you're not a perfect match for his wand doesn't mean he wouldn't be proud of you. You're like your father and your mother, Nev. You'll need something in between them both."

Neville slid his father's wand into the pocket of his robes. "Did you have any other suggestions?"

Harry considered his next words carefully, knowing the importance of what he was about to ask. "It's possible you aren't quite focused enough; there's a branch of magic I can teach you that can help. It's not easy to learn, though, and you'd have to keep it a secret that I taught you."

Neville's voice wavered as he inquired, "It's not something dark, is it?"

Harry laughed. "No, it's called Occlumency, and it's about organizing your thoughts and controlling your emotions. It's meant to protect your mind, but the basic principles are very helpful for focusing your intent, and that's why most wizards learn it." He caught and held Neville's eyes. "I can teach it to you. It's not dark, just a bit obscure. Voldemort is supposed to be very good at its opposite, which is why I'm learning it."

"I want to learn it," Neville said. "If it helps me perform magic better and stops wizards from attacking my mind, then I should learn it."

Harry was relieved that he didn't have to deceive Neville further. "It won't be easy to learn. It can be painful, and you need to trust me."

"I trust you. You've not led me wrong yet. I'll learn it however you think is best."

Harry smothered a soft swell of sadness. "I wish I didn't have to deceive him. But I can't tell him about Fleur. If word gets out, someone will try to take her away from me. Someone always does."

"When do we start?" Neville asked.

Harry stifled a sigh and drew himself up. "You've got to do the first bit yourself. Practice emptying your thoughts, forcing your mind to go blank, even when you're angry or upset."

"I'll finally have something useful to do in Umbridge's lessons," Neville muttered.

Harry chuckled. "Yes, I suppose you will."

"Let's leave before Umbridge gets back," Neville said. "I need to nip to the hospital wing for this burn and start planning some teaching."

"I'm sure you'll think of something."

"You're my assistant," Neville said. "This is on you, too."

"We both know that's just an excuse to get me in so I can teach you all the Patronus Charm," Harry replied with a grin. "How long did Hermione bug you about it before you gave in?"

Neville blushed. "She might've mentioned it a few times."

"Thought so," Harry said, a small smile on his lips. "Knowing her, she's probably been trying to do it since I did it. She hates it when anyone manages to do something she can't."

Neville nudged his arm. "You're not coming to many of the meetings, are you?"

"Of course not," Harry said. "I don't have any reason to help them. I haven't forgotten how quickly they turned on me during the tournament; no doubt the moment it becomes convenient, they'll do it again. I'll join and teach the Patronus because Dementors are horrible creatures and you can't use that charm against me, but that's about all I'm helping them with. I owe them nothing."

"That's what they want me to be, after all."

"Will you at least come to the first meeting?" Neville asked.

"I'll come to the first one and whichever one you want to learn the Patronus in, but that's all I'm promising," Harry replied. "I don't have time to waste, Nev. Voldemort's not going to wait for me to get stronger."

"I understand," Neville said and headed toward the hospital wing. "I'll see you later."

Harry nodded and hurried toward Myrtle's bathroom. Now I just have to start finding out about that prophecy. Once I know why Voldemort's after me and have Dumbledore and Umbridge out of the way, I can start doing something about it.

"Myrtle?" Harry glanced around.

Myrtle zipped out of her cubicle and across the flooded bathroom floor to hover in front of him. "Harry!"

"How have you been? You haven't been here the last few times I've come."

"I don't spend all my time here, Harry," she replied. "There's all sorts of interesting places to go, you know. I saw that red-headed boy you came here with in the second year in the prefect's bathroom a few days ago. He has freckles everywhere." She giggled. "That nice Hufflepuff boy, too. He ran out of bubbles last year when he was trying to solve that egg clue, you know."

Harry shuddered. "I'm glad you've been having fun, Myrtle."

She drifted a little closer to him. "Nobody's come looking around here," she whispered. "But nobody ever comes in here except you anyway. I always know if anyone comes in here."

"Thanks, Myrtle," Harry said and flashed her a smile before opening the entrance to the chamber.

"What's down there?" Myrtle peered into the dark. A strange expression crossed her face. "I feel like I ought to know, really, but I don't remember anything about it."

Harry grinned. "Nothing anywhere near as interesting as the boys in the Prefect's Bathroom, I assure you. Just what's left of a very big, dead snake and a bit of space for me to relax." He picked his way across the puddle and disappeared down the stairs toward the chamber.

"I'm back, Salazar!"

"So it would seem," Salazar replied, squinting down at Harry through the coils of his serpent. "I was having a nice nap. Although, this wretched creature has mistaken itself for a nightcap again."

Harry waited for Salazar to rearrange his serpent. "I need to speak to Sirius, but afterward, I've a few questions."

Harry fished Sirius' mirror out of the top drawer of Salazar's desk and walked back over the bridge. He conjured a seat and turned his back toward one of the dark alcoves. "Sirius," Harry murmured at the mirror.

Condensation crept across the glass, then it flared white, and his godfather's face appeared.

'Harry!' Sirius grinned, displaying sparkling white teeth. Fewer lines marked his skin than last Harry had seen him, his cheeks weren't quite so hollow, his hair neater, and the shadows under his eyes had lessened.

'How have you been?' Harry returned his grin. 'Cleaned out the whole house yet?'

'No,' Sirius grumbled. 'Gave up a few days back when I discovered that Kreacher was just keeping every single artifact we tried to throw away. Bloody place. I wish I could burn the whole thing down to the ground some days.'

'Kreacher?'

'House-elf,' Sirius said. 'He comes with the house and knows too much for us to free him or send him away. He'd just pop right off to Cissy.'

Whomever that is.

Harry wracked his brain for a way to direct the conversation to Dumbledore. 'So what are you doing if you aren't tidying?'

'I'm organizing the members of the Order who help out down at the Department of Mysteries,' Sirius said, wincing. 'Which I was explicitly told not to mention to you. Oops.'

Now that sounds interesting.

'What's down there?' Harry asked.

'Sorry, Harry,' Sirius gave him a rueful grin. 'Dumbledore was adamant about not telling, and I was outvoted.'

Harry frowned. 'If it involves me, then I think I deserve to know. I've had to do a lot of adult stuff already, it's a bit late to try and play the "you're just a kid" card.'

'I'm on your side,' Sirius said. 'But they made me promise.'

'Well, our conversations are going to be short since nobody wants to tell me anything.' Harry scowled and swallowed down a cold ball of rage. 'I haven't even spoken to Dumbledore all year. I nearly killed a student by accident, and he sent me a note telling me I have detention.'

'I heard about that,' Sirius grinned. 'That Malfoy kid probably deserved it, especially if he's anything like his father. Don't know what Cissy was thinking, marrying that slime.'

Cissy's Malfoy's mother? Harry tried to picture her. An image of Lucius Malfoy with breasts and high heels flitted through his mind. And that's enough of that.

'He's a lot like his father,' he said.

'You should've finished him off, then,' Sirius muttered. 'One less potential Death Eater.'

Harry snorted. 'Malfoy'd make a poor Death Eater. He doesn't have the guts to do anything more than run his mouth.'

Sirius' expression darkened. 'You'd be surprised. Lucius doesn't seem like all that much either, all pretty robes and words, but I have it on good authority that he's quite a handful in a duel. He curses first, then claims the Imperius Curse made him do it later.' Sirius chuckled, and his face lightened a fraction. 'What are you doing at Hogwarts? Carried out any nefarious plans that I'd be proud of?'

Oh yes. Harry allowed himself a small smile. You might not be so proud of them, though.

'You can't smile like that and stay silent!' Sirius rubbed his hands together with a gleeful grin. 'Spill.'

Sirius likes an eye for an eye; he'll appreciate what I did to the quill.

'I got Umbridge again.'

'What did you do?'

Harry pressed his lips into a thin line. 'She has an enchanted quill she uses to make students write lines with. It etches the words written into the back of the hand and writes in blood.'

Sirius' smile froze. 'That woman has been torturing students! I'm going to murder Dumbledore, he said everything's in hand!'

'She won't be doing it again, not if she's learned her lesson.'

'What did you do?' his godfather demanded. 'I hope it was bad.'

'I changed the enchantments on the quill.' Harry stifled a thin, cold smile. 'It changed its source to the creator rather than the user. She's been wearing a bandage around her hand today.'

'Good. Bitch deserves it. She's the reason Moony can't get a job.'

Wherever he's gone. Probably off somewhere doing something for Dumbledore. Haven't heard from him in over a year. Some friend of the family he is.

'She banned me from playing Quidditch for life,' Harry said. 'That was for cursing Malfoy.'

Salazar's muffled yells drifted from his study.

'I'd better go,' Harry said.

'It does sound like something's happening.' Sirius cocked his head. 'Lots of shouting about something.'

'We'll talk again soon.' Harry rolled his eyes. 'Maybe I'll be able to be briefed by then.'

Sirius nodded. The shadows hovered in his eyes again. 'See you soon, Harry.'

The mirror went blank.

No luck. Just something about the Department of Mysteries, whatever that is. Harry stalked into the study.

'Done chatting?' Salazar demanded.

'You're not my supervisor.' Harry glared at the painting and crossed his arms.

The snake stared back, flickering its forked tongue at him.

'Well?' Salazar tossed the serpent over his shoulder. 'What're you focusing on?'

'I need to find out about the Department of Mysteries and get better at dueling.' Flashes of the hail of curses Voldemort had unleashed streaked past Harry's mind's eye. 'A lot better.'

'Can you defend your mind?' Salazar asked. 'No point being able to duel if you can't do that.'

'Yes.' A quiet satisfaction coiled in Harry's chest. 'My idea's not… pleasant, but it works. While I feel nothing and think of nothing, anything they try to see or show me is lost in that too. I just have to make sure they can't follow the void, but Snape couldn't endure the feeling, so I doubt anyone would chase it.'

'What about your Legilimency?'

'I've convinced Neville to let me teach him. I've got the hang of how to do things, I just need practice.' Harry sat on the edge of the desk. 'So, dueling?'

'There're ways to improve yourself to give you an advantage.' Salazar's green eyes bored into Harry's. 'Your eyesight's a weakness, your glasses could easily be exploited by an unscrupulous foe, and the faster your reflexes and greater your strength, the better you'll fare.'

'More rituals?' Harry turned the idea over in his head. 'Fine.'

It's just power. Fleur's face floated behind his closed eyes. I intend to use it to keep hold of the one perfect wish that came true, nothing more.

Salazar stroked his goatee. The serpent's head rose up over his shoulder, its eyes fixed on Harry. 'We'll use blood as a medium, of course, but you'll have to get your hands on some magical ingredients. We can create a ritual to imbue certain properties unto yourself.'

'What'll the sacrifice be?' Harry asked.

'Nothing too dear,' Salazar murmured. 'Time. Blood. Pain. Guilt. Innocence. All things worth trading to survive.'

'What will I need?'

'Wormwood and bayberry to fix your eyesight.' Salazar fixed Harry with a long look. 'Griffon's claw and salamander's blood to improve your physical body.'

Harry frowned. 'How does it actually work?'

'It's all about intent.' Salazar pushed his snake's head back down onto his shoulder with one finger. 'Wormwood, bayberry, griffons, and salamanders all come with certain mental associations. You'll form these for yourself reading about them, if you don't already have them. The intent of your magic will be created from the runes you write, the relative arithmantic properties of the ritual pattern design, and your mental associations of the objects within it. Very complex pieces of magic require a complicated mix of intentions and no small amount of power. A spell is a single spike of intent, even spells like the killing curse only require simple intent, just in very potent amounts. A ritual is a swirling ball of intentions, too complex to be cast as a spell. There're very few wizards with the knowledge, skill, and power to carry out more than the most basic rituals. Even fewer of those can truly muster the will and intent to carry them out.'

Salazar nodded. 'I've fought my fair share of duels in my time, Harry, and I can certainly teach you some techniques.

First, your wand is the extension of your will, your desire for victory. To win, your intent has to be strong, and your will to dominate the battlefield must be unwavering. The mindset is just as important as the spells. Dueling is as much about psychology as it is about spells.

'But what about the spells?' Harry asked. 'The Dark Arts and the Unforgivables...' 'Certainly, Harry, I can teach you about those as well, but remember, these are not to be used lightly. The Dark Arts require intent, and they can corrupt the mind if used for selfish or malevolent purposes. The Unforgivables should never be used unless there is no other way. Remember this: a great wizard can defeat an enemy with non-lethal spells just as well as with curses meant to kill.' 'But what if my enemy is using Unforgivables?' 'You will be at an advantage, Harry, for you will know the limitations and dangers of those curses.

But again, use them only as a last resort. Dueling is about defending yourself and disarming your opponent, not causing unnecessary harm.' Harry absorbed Salazar's words. 'So what's the first lesson, then?' 'Stance and movement,' Salazar said. 'You must have a strong stance to maintain balance and resist the force of your opponent's spells. You must be able to move swiftly and fluidly to avoid incoming spells and create opportunities for yourself.' Harry nodded. 'And what's the best way to practice that?' 'We'll start with some basic exercises,' Salazar said. 'But practice is the key. You need to become so familiar with your own movements that they become instinctive, and you need to be able to read your opponent's intentions and actions.' 'All right,' Harry said.

'Let's get started, then.' Over the next few hours, Salazar taught Harry the fundamentals of dueling. They practiced various stances, movements, and techniques, and Harry could feel himself improving with each attempt. It was hard work, but he was determined to become a skilled duelist. He knew that the challenges he would face in the future would require him to be prepared and capable of defending himself and those he cared about.

Harry, do you know what makes your butterfly conjuring defence so unique?' Salazar inquired, his eyes gleaming with a strange intensity.

Harry frowned, thinking about it. 'It's just a way to defend myself against curses. I guess I see it as a distraction, a way to keep the opponent off balance while I look for an opening.'

Salazar nodded. 'Yes, but there's more to it. The intent behind your butterflies, that sense of protection and innocence, is what makes it powerful. It's not just about distraction; it's about purity and resistance.'

Harry's brows furrowed as he considered Salazar's words. 'So, you're saying that the purity of my intent matters in magic?'

'Exactly,' Salazar confirmed. 'Your intent shapes your magic. It's why the Unforgivable Curses are so dark – the intent behind them is inherently evil. In duelling, your mindset can be a powerful tool. If your intentions are pure and resolute, your spells and defences will be stronger and more effective.'

Harry absorbed this information. 'So, by focusing on the right intent, I can make my butterfly conjuring defence even more formidable?'

'Precisely,' Salazar said with a proud smile. 'You have a unique and powerful ability, Harry. It's all about how you use it and what you intend to achieve.'

Harry felt a renewed sense of determination. 'I'll work on it, then. I want to become the best I can be.'

'Good,' Salazar said. 'Remember, it's not just about power and skill – it's about the purity of your intent. Your magic reflects your heart and mind, so keep them focused on what's right and just.'

With those words in mind, Harry set off to the library, ready to further develop his skills and strengthen his magical abilities, all while maintaining the purity of his intent.

"I'll practice," Harry affirmed. "Fleur, being a skilled duellist, must possess the knowledge to deflect."

Salazar cautioned him, fixing Harry with an intense gaze. "Don't allow yourself to be overly captivated by the attractive French witch. If you do, you might meet your demise, and she'll move on to another man, leaving you to witness him achieve your dream in the afterlife."

In Harry's mind, a shadow embraced Fleur. He remembered her warm smile, her endearing pout, the tenderness of her kisses, and the serene, perfect moments under the willow leaves and summer sun. He was resolute: "No one will steal our perfect dream from us." A fierce determination smoldered in his heart.

"Thank you," he mumbled. "I'm heading to the library to research those ingredients and check if there's any information on the Department of Mysteries."

Step into the world of PEVERELL_MAGIC on P.a.t.r.e.o.n! Experience where tales unfold, magic ignites, and the future takes shape.

For exclusive support and early access to upcoming chapters, join us at PEVERELL_MAGIC on P.a.t.r.e.o.n.

Note: Get the scoop a day before anyone else! Updates release on P.a.t.r.e.o.n before they hit FanFiction. Join us for free to read ahead!