Harry Potter and the Illithid Inquisition

by Empirialtank

In the summer before beginning his third year Harry runs from his home to escape his relatives for an evening and cool his head. Unfortunately a passing Nautiliod SpellJammer briefly passes through the neighborhood looking for hosts to snatch. Now Harry's got a tadpole in his head. And while his magic can hold off his inevitable transformation into a mindflayer, it can't stop it.

16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Initiation

Everyone returned by portkey to the Burrow as soon as they could. Harry only paused briefly to make sure Mr. Robert's mind was still intact after the events of last night. A quick scan of his mind and memory confirmed that the ministry had tried to erase his memory of the attack he had suffered but the barriers Harry had affixed in his mind had held. Mr. Roberts certainly had no love for magic or wizards left in his heart, but he did smile warmly at the sight of Harry and nodded in thanks towards him. At least he also remembered being paid even more than he had originally agreed to by the ministry.

With the help of an old tire, Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys returned to the same hill they had left just the other day and easily made their way home. Mrs. Weasley was most grateful to see them all safe and sound and soon had everyone seated to a warm breakfast with plenty of tea to go around. With trepidation Mr. Weasley read that morning's copy of the Daily Prophet to find out what the damage had been.

"It's even worse than I had imagined." He groaned after perusing the front page articles. He mumbled his way through the most damning lines. "Disaster at the world cup…. Ministry incompetence…. Death Eaters at large and uncontested…. The Dark Mark in the sky…. Refuses to make statements…. Who wrote this nonsense?"

"Rita Skeeter." Percy noted from over Mr. Weasley's shoulder. There was a note of poisonous disdain in his voice as he did so. "I can't believe that woman. Look here she's starting a rumor that a dozen bodies were brought out the woods. I can't believe the prophet would let her write this kind of slanderous drivel."

"They've never stopped her from writing whatever she wanted before, I don't see why they should start now." Mr. Weasley said dryly. "Molly I hate to say this but if the press is this bad I'm probably going to have to go back in to take care of this."

"I don't see why you should." Mrs. Weasley objected. "You took this whole week off for vacation, and you know they won't give you back those hours. It's not even your department."

"I'll have to go back in anyway to see Madam Bones, since I was the one who caught at least three of the ones we managed to keep last night." Mr. Weasley insisted. "And if the prophet loosed Skeeter on us then that means they're out for blood. It's going to be just like that botched raid on the Malfoys all over again. I can't sit around at home while the whole ministry is on fire."

"I should go in too." Percy insisted. "Mr. Crouch is going to need all hands on deck today."

Despite Mrs. Weasley's best efforts, both men ended up going in that day. Harry was quite happy to stay home. He had gotten very little sleep that evening and was glad to have a lazy day to relax and reenergize.

Panic continued to build at the ministry for the rest of the week. This Rita Skeeter woman wrote three more articles about the Ministry's mishandling of the mob before moving on to criticizing Ludo Bagman for disappearing during the crisis. What surprised Harry about the whole affair was the woman had very little sense of consistency in her writing.

Her first article called the ministry incompetent for allowing the mob to form and rampage for so long, as if the ministry could've added anti-riot enchantments to the world cup stadium and prevented all of this. She called their response slow and ineffective, that it had been up to civilians to break up the mob, because the ministry had refused to use any really dangerous spells on the malcontents. But in her third article she decried the ministry as tyrannical for not accepting the pleas of those captured, that they had been mind controlled or threatened into joining. As well as for not treating their injuries, which were supposedly crippling and extremely painful.

"I'm surprised that they haven't proven those pleas false yet." Harry commented after listening to Percy rant about how everyone who had been captured was perfectly healthy and Skeeter was lying through her teeth about their supposed injuries. "Surely by now they've been given truth serum or something to prove if they're lying or not."

"You can't force a prisoner to take truth serum Harry." Percy explained. "It was outlawed back in eighteen ninety seven after the head of the department of magical law enforcement got into a scandal for bringing his political rivals in on trumped up charges and then using truth serum to dig for embarrassing information unrelated to their charges. Then he would black mail them with what he had learned. A person brought in by magical law enforcement can volunteer to take truth serum to prove their story but they can't be required to and any claim they make without truth serum has to be judged as credible until proven otherwise."

"That seems senseless." Harry objected. "Why not pass a law that restricts what kinds of questions can be asked while a person is under the effects of truth serum rather than outlawing its use all together?"

"Those kinds of laws already existed when the scandal happened." Percy continued. "The department head ignored them, so they weren't considered tough enough to prevent abuse. Even a person as brave as an auror can hesitate to disobey their boss who can destroy their whole career. Back then they would have to file a protest at inappropriate treatment of prisoners, which could take weeks to review during which they would be exposed to their bosses' anger. Now they could arrest the man even for suggesting it. It makes the law more difficult to enforce true, but as the saying goes, better a guilty man go free than an innocent man go to jail."

A good principal, Harry agreed, if it weren't for the fact that Harry could think of at least two innocent men who would've gone free if they had been interrogated with truth serum. But Harry didn't press the subject, just added it to the list of things he might change at the ministry while they prepared it to face the Illithids. Not for the first time, Harry also noted that the ministry acted in a way that suggested it was much more worried about its reputation than what was right or wrong for its people.

It was almost enough to make Harry grateful for the Daily Prophet calling them out, but this Skeeter woman seemed much more interested in just making people afraid then actually criticizing the ministry. She called out Ludo Bagman for not offering any leadership that night, but also claimed that Barty Crouch had gotten in people's way that night by insisting that everything be done his way. The ministry didn't use strong enough magic to bring down the mob, but someone out there knew a spell dangerous enough to make a hundred wizards scatter and people should worry about that. The only consistent theme to the woman's writing was that everyone should be afraid and worried because things were getting out of hand.

She did get some push back on her writing though, and oddly enough it was about Harry. After the first story emphasized that the mob had only been driven off by Harry's Ignis Negra, most people came to the conclusion that whoever had cast that spell was some kind of hero, coming to the aid of the ministry and doing what they refused to. It wasn't the first time Harry had been called a hero, even if no one knew they were calling Harry a hero, but it was the first time he had been called one so openly and publicly.

Harry wasn't certain he liked it. In fact he increasingly felt that he hated it. It wasn't a heroic act in his mind, it was quite the opposite. He had snuck behind a group of people and attacked them with an exceedingly violent and dangerous curse. If the cleverest wizards amongst them hadn't reacted quickly, Harry might've inflicted permanent injury on them by burning away their nerves. It had been a necessary thing to do, it was the only way he could think of to get the Roberts away from them. But just because something was necessary didn't mean it was right or heroic. Doubtlessly Professor Dumbledore would have come up with a way to not only rescue the family in danger, but could've done it without actually hurting anyone else.

"Wow." Ron commented as he watched Harry's thoughts turn darker and darker while reading the paper. "It's kind of fascinating to watch this happen in real time. You can actually see his mind convincing himself that there was nothing special or praiseworthy about saving people. The leaps in logic are astounding."

"What?" Harry responded surprised by the sudden commentary and the contents of what Ron was saying. "What are you talking about, Ron?"

"You always do this Harry." Hermione cut in. "You always play down everything you do to make it seem like it's nothing extraordinary or special. It's good that you try and stay humble, but seriously it sometimes comes off as kind of bragging. Like you're only pretending to be humble because no one would ever actually act like this."

"It's alright to take a little bit of pride in what you've done Harry." Ron suggested. "You chased off a mob of a hundred full grown wizards. That's impressive no two ways about it."

Harry wanted to argue but it was hard to do so when he could feel how genuine their feelings were on the subject. So Harry insisted that: "I was only doing what I had to do. It's not that impressive."

Ron and Hermione laughed at him and then spent the rest of that afternoon recounting every "heroic" thing Harry had ever done around them. Harry's face damn near caught on fire before the end of it. He would've found some excuse to run away from them, but he knew they would just keep talking into his mind and that would just leave him blushing and stuttering around other Weasleys.

Besides the Daily Prophet only two other things disturbed the peace at the Burrow. The first was the increasingly sharp arguments between Hermione and Percy Weasley. It was disturbing, Hermione was probably the one person in Harry's friend group who had the most respect for Percy and his rigid adherence to the rules, but Hermione's passion had been roused on a subject and she would not let it go. The problem was simply that Percy felt that Barty Crouch had been right to fire his house elf, Winky, for embarrassing him, and that set Hermione off.

Truth be told, Hermione was actually glad that Winky was no longer enslaved, in her words, to Barty Crouch, but she also felt her dismissal had been cruel and badly done. And she was more than willing to make her feelings on the subject known at the drop of a hat. Harry sympathized with her, and agreed with her on several points, but even he was getting tired of these arguments. Ron didn't care about the subject one way or another, but he was starting to mock her opinions just to get a rise out of her, which only made things worse.

The second thing that broke the peace at the Burrow was when a little owl swooped in with a letter for Harry during breakfast. Harry took the letter from the owl and shared some bacon with it before it flew off again. He was then shocked to see that the letter had come from Professor Dumbledore. It read:

Harry,

I hope your summer vacation has treated you well. I was most pleased to hear from Minerva McGonagall that you had earned an outstanding on your ancient runes placement test. I trust you will find the course most enlightening and challenging for you next year. Runes is a very useful subject and a gateway to the creation of new spells and enchantments, I trust you will find it most profitable for the rest of your life.

I understand you are staying with the Weasleys for the last few days before the school year. If you are still at the Burrow when this letter reaches I would ask if you could pass on a few words to Arthur Weasley for me. Let him know I am aware of the Bertha Jorkins situation and it has been weighing on my mind as well. I have already asked my contacts in Eastern Europe to keep an eye out for her. They have reported to me that a woman matching Bertha's description arrived in the town of Koplik Albania almost a month ago now. But tracing her movements beyond that has proven quite difficult.

I would emphasize that while my contacts in the region have eyes in many places they are by no means all seeing. It is entirely possible that the young woman has slipped by them and subsequently left the country. I have asked Remus Lupin to go looking for her with the assistance of his own contacts, but I feel an official ministry investigation to find her may also be profitable. I have floated such a suggestion to a few of my contacts in the ministry and I think it would be wise if he agitated for the same.

Concerning the matter you wrote to me about, I believe your assessment of the situation is likely accurate, and that cursed scar of yours has unfortunately formed a connection between yourself and Tom Riddle. Based on the description you gave I believe the place those unfortunate events took place in to be the home of Tom Riddle senior, Tom's muggle father. I have investigated the place, and regrettably, I have confirmed that a local, poor, old man died of almost certainly magical means on the night you had your vision. And I am certain that Peter and Tom were there that evening. Unfortunately they have since moved on and have covered their tracks quite well. I have begun to organize several of those who closely supported me during the war and have begun to keep watch over the countryside. We may yet get lucky and find him before he has a chance to act.

Concerning the connection that now exists between you two, I must urge you to be cautious. Especially in three regards. The first is to take steps to strengthen the protection around your own mind. Second is to not try and deepen the connection between you or try to intentionally trigger future glimpses into Tom's mind. And thirds if any future visions do appear, to take what you see with a grain of salt as it were, and not rely upon what you see as the certain truth.

The reason for this caution is that while Tom's body has been much reduced by your mother's blessed protection on you, his mind and spirit are as formidable as ever. A direct confrontation with his mind may now be much more dangerous than one with him in person. Furthermore it is almost certain that this bond works both ways. If you try and deepen your connection it is likely that Tom may well sense your mind, or he may simply realize that our actions against him could only be possible if we had glimpsed his innermost secrets in some way.

In the best case, Tom would then close himself off to us, or feed us false visions in an attempt to misdirect our actions. In the worse case he could try and read your own mind or even launch an attack against your soul. This could create a risk that is far beyond any advantage we might gain by catching a stray glimpse of his thoughts.

I strongly urge you to take up the study of Occlumency to better safeguard your thoughts and memories, if you have not done so already. Professor Snape is more than capable of teaching all you could wish to know about the subject during the course of the next school year. You may also wish to inquire after your godfather's method of Occlumency that he developed against the dementors which has many advantages beyond the normal methods if the opportunity presents itself.

Send me a message by patronus charm if you wish to take advantage of Professor Snape's experience, once you arrive at Hogwarts. Please also keep me informed of any other visions of Tom that might trouble your mind. I look forward to seeing you soon at the castle for the school year.

Albus Dumbledore.

After Harry had read the letter he passed it over to Ron and Hermione, though they had been following along with him as he read through their connection. So Professor Dumbledore was also worried about Bertha Jorkins. That was disturbing to hear, Harry had hoped he was simply being paranoid with his concerns for her. He hoped she hadn't been possessed by Voldemort the same way that Quirrell had back during their first year. Harry would've hoped that Peter Petigrew had been given that honor instead, but since possessing Quirrell had required Voldemort to partially remake his body, and animagi were almost impossible to forcibly transform, this was unlikely.

As for his warnings about his connection with Voldemort, Harry largely agreed with the professor. While Harry felt he had little to worry about from Voldemort's mind, he was only human after all, his other concerns couldn't be so easily ignored. If Harry pressed into Voldemort's mind directly and was detected, he would lose access to a vital source of information, since surely Voldemort couldn't be so arrogant as to leave his own mind unguarded once he knew someone could possibly access it. Better to simply allow whatever stray thoughts might cross their connection as they will, and take advantage of them as they come. Actively engaging with the connection could only make it more likely that they would lose it.

"That's probably quite wise." Hermione agreed with Harry's thoughts on the subject. "And certainly the safest course of action."

"It's a shame though." Ron commented. "If you could freely read You Know Who's mind it would probably be pretty straightforward to find him and just put an end to everything."

"Maybe if I'll be able to catch his thoughts more safely once I've got my new crystal ball worked out." Harry pondered. The school year was shaping up to be quite the busy one. Nine classes to take, an animagus transformation to perfect, an entire field of study to revolutionize, and a dark wizard to help hunt down and catch. Maybe he should've asked Professor McGonagall for time turner access when she had given him his exam earlier that summer.

Mr. Weasley was glad to hear that Professor Dumbledore had taken an interest in Bertha Jorkins' disappearance. But his mind was deeply troubled by the thought that no one had seen her in a month or more. He was clearly worried that the worst had already come to pass, but he kept such thoughts to himself. Instead he said:

"I'm glad to hear Remus Lupin will be looking for her." He said confidently. "There are plenty of werewolves living in the East. They might not have much interest in helping a wizard but they would surely notice a strange one passing through their territory. Hopefully they'll help him track her down. Though I would certainly feel better if the ministry would launch their own investigation."

The rest of his time with the Weasleys was a true delight for Harry. There was always something fun to do with the rowdy family and Hermione. Every morning it seemed there was something new to chase out of Mrs. Weasley's garden in the cool of the morning. When the noonday sun hung overhead they could spend their time inside, reading with Hermione or playing wizard chess with Ron. In the afternoon, once the heat had passed, there was either a pick up game of Quidditch to play, or Bill and Charlie would take turns showing off some new spell they had learned since leaving Hogwarts.

Before too long the last night before the trip to Hogwarts had come. Hermione struck up another argument with Percy over house elves, so Harry and Ron made their way up to Ron's room to finish packing. It didn't take them very long to gather up their school supplies and robes. But the two of them also found an extra package prepared for the both of them.

In Ron's, he found a set of large mauve purple robes with lace on their sleeves, cuffs and about the neck. They were truly ancient things and obviously decades, if not a century out of fashion. Ron looked panic stricken at the sight of them.

"What are these?" He exclaimed aloud attracting the notice of Mrs. Weasley who happened to be passing by.

"Those are dress robes for you, Ron." She said, "Your school letter said you'll need a set this year."

"I can't imagine ever needing anything like this." Ron lamented. "I might die to be seen on something like this."

When Harry checked out his own dress robes he found a much more sensible set. They were dark green, almost black and cut in a more sensible and flattering pattern. They were obviously much newer.

Ron would've complained at the sight of Harry's nicer robes since the reason for the difference was obvious. Mrs. Weasley had used Harry's money to buy those robes and had been willing to splurge, but to get new robes for four of her own children would have stretched her budget, so she had shopped second hand. Harry regretted not telling Mrs. Weasley to let him contribute to the education of his closest friend, but it would've made no difference. Poor though the

Weasleys might be, they were fiercely proud and unwilling to accept any kind of "charity."

Ron's back went ramrod straight as he sensed Harry's thoughts turn to the thought of helping him and his family. It almost made Harry frustrated, that kind of pride made if difficult to even buy gifts for his friend. But in the other hand he admired that strong determination to manage on his own as well.

"Honestly Ron." Hermione interjected. "One of these days you're going to have to get over that. Not every act of kindness is some kind of veiled insult. You're as bad as Harry half the time when it comes to accepting help."

"Well you'll have to wear them sooner or later this year." Mrs. Weasley said when Ron stopped complaining. "Or else go naked. And if that happens I hope Harry gets a photo of it for me to laugh at later."

This was not the first time someone had implied that new and exciting things would be happening at Hogwarts this year. Ludo Bagman, Barty Crouch and Mr. Weasley had also been talking about another major event soon to take place at the school. Harry could've easily pulled the secret of what was happening from the minds of Mr. Weasley, Percy, Bill or Mrs. Weasley who all seemed to be in on the secret. But he saw no reason to.

Whatever it was it was obviously meant to be a surprise, and an exciting one at that. All he would've done is spoil it by reading their minds. It was the same reason why he had made no attempt at reading Ron or Hermione's minds to figure out what they had planned to get him for last Christmas, or his most recent birthday. He would only be stealing from himself.

To take Ron's mind off his gaudy robes, Harry made a suggestion. "Well maybe this will give you a project to work on for transfiguration this year. Work and study hard on the subject and you can figure out how to transform that robe into something decent to wear."

The idea gripped Ron's mind with new possibilities. He imagined the old worn-out robe transformed into a decadent crimson monstrosity of wizard fashion. With golden thread forming intricate patterns of geometric shapes and leaping animals, studded gemstones every few inches, pearls hanging off his sleeves and a towering wizard hat above his head.

Harry did his best to suppress a laugh. Instead he shared the thought of Ron wearing something much more sensible. Something black and purple, with a large popped collar, and billowing sleeves that would sweep majestically around him. Maybe a large diamond on a necklace around his throat. Hermione offered her own imagined suggestions as well, mostly by conservatively toning down what the others had suggested. They all three fell asleep that night putting together a set of dream robes for Ron and planning out what spells he would need to make it all happen.

The next morning Harry made his way down to see a very strange sight in the kitchen. Mr. Weasley was having a conversation with the severed, but still hale, healthy and living, head of Amos Diggory floating in his fireplace surrounded by faint green flames. Harry surmised this was another function of floo powder to allow wizards to talk to each other over great distances.

As Harry considered the image of what Mr. Diggory might look like, presumably lying flat on his stomach with most of his torso shoved into a fireplace, Harry wondered, not for the first time, why wizards made no attempt to indulge in some of the more sensible inventions that muggles had designed over the years. Perhaps getting muggle electronics to work around magic was tricky, but surely all that effort would be worth it if it meant a person could have a conversation with someone else while comfortably seated down.

"You've got to get over here, Arthur." Amos begged. "Alastor's mostly calmed down now, but some of the muggles heard all the racket and they've called for their law people, the please men or whatever."

"Police men." Mr. Weasley corrected. "Is it that bad Amos? What happened anyway? Is Alastor alright?"

"He's fine." Amos confirmed. "He thought he heard someone breaking in and set off one of his magical traps. Now his dust bins have gone mad. They're rampaging around the house, charging people and spewing garbage everywhere. You're the only one who can help him now Arthur. If those bins attack the please men, he's going to get brought up on 'Unwarranted Assault on a Muggle' charges. Madam Bones will have to drag him in for questioning and likely some prison time. He's got that new job he's supposed to start today it will mess everything up."

"I understand." Mr. Weasley agreed. "I'll have to fine him for 'Enchanting Accessible Muggle Objects' but that shouldn't be too hard for him to handle. I'll be right over."

"Sorry for troubling you all about this Molly." Mr. Diggory said apologetically to Mrs. Weasley. "I know it's the first day of the school year but Arthur really is the only one who can help Alastor right now."

"I understand." Mrs. Weasley said quite reasonably. "Would you like some breakfast while you're here?"

"Oh I wouldn't want to be a bother." Amos said with mock exaggeration.

"It's no bother at all." Mrs. Weasley insisted as she started buttering some toast.

"I've got my stuff, I'm all set." Mr. Weasley reported when he returned to the room with a long overcoat thrown over his ministry wizard robes and a trilby hat on his head. "I'll be over in a jiffy, please try and keep Alastor from doing anything to make the situation worse."

As Mr. Weasley made for the door and vanished with a pop, Mrs. Weasley took the toast she had buttered and placed it in Amos's mouth. He nodded his head in thanks and then disappeared as he stood up as well. Harry shook his head and admitted that was one thing at least that a phone couldn't do. He turned to the twins who were seated next to him and asked for more information.

"Fred, who was your father talking about?" Harry asked, "What kind of person defends their house with angry garbage bins?"

Fred gave Harry a long look as he pondered about how Harry knew something. Instead it was Charlie who answered Harry's question in an exasperated tone of voice.

"Mad Eye Moody." He said in response. "A crazy old coot by all accounts."

"He was quite the amazing auror back in the day." Bill said as he recalled how highly his parents had spoken of him back during the war when he was a very small child and the years afterwards. "They say more than half the people in Azkaban were caught thanks to Moody. He was the real deal in his prime."

"Well now he's likely to curse a person for trying to throw him a surprise birthday party." Charlie responded. "He's been at the business too long, made too many enemies, now he thinks every unexpected sound is caused by someone sneaking up on him and planning to do him in. Attack dustbins is probably the least dangerous trap he's got set up in his house."

While everyone enjoyed their breakfast, Mrs. Weasley went into town and used the public call box to arrange for three taxis to come and pick their stuff up. Since the Burrow didn't have an official street address they had to go down the road a bit to meet them. Packing up the muggle cars proved a bit tricky with Ron's new pet, a highly excitable owl Pigwidgeon, all but bouncing around in its cage and Hermione's cat Crookshanks refusing to let anyone other than her come within three feet of it.

With brave and determined driving, along with plenty of creative language, the taxi drivers got them through the morning London traffic without too much difficulty. All too soon, Harry Ron and Hermione were slipping through the magical guard rail and had entered the hidden platform nine and three quarters were the Hogwarts Express would soon take them away. Once they all had their luggage stowed away, they said their goodbyes to the elder Weasleys and prepared to set off.

"I might see you all sooner than you would think." Charlie said cryptically.

"It's almost enough to make me wish I were back at school." Bill said wistfully, "Then I remember my exam schedule and then suddenly I'm glad the only tests I take these days are the sort that can only get me killed."

As the Hogwarts Express pulled away from the station Harry and his friends found a nice compartment to have to themselves and settled it. Ron briefly protested that Harry had turned down his last chance to read anyone's minds and figure out what was going on this year, but only briefly. He didn't really want the surprise ruined anymore than Harry did.

The trip up north was mostly uneventful. Their various friends from Gryffindor House and some of the Hufflepuffs they knew dropped by to say hello. Most only stayed briefly before moving on to see someone else. Only Neville Longbottom and Ginny stayed for most of the trip. The twins never stopped by to see them at all, but they were wrapped up in some bad business involving Ludo Bagman they were trying to keep secret from the rest of their family, which Harry only knew about from reading their surface thoughts from time to time. It wasn't any business of Harry's though so he kept that knowledge to himself.

At lunch time the food trolley came down the train and Harry took full advantage of one of the few times his friends raised no objections to him splurging on them. He got the usual wide variety of wizard treats, including extra chocolate frogs for Ron and a selection of meat pies so Hermione wouldn't complain that they hadn't had any real food. At Esharry's request he picked up a bag of every flavor jelly beans so they could see if any new flavors had been added. The new selection of fish, squid and prawn beans were most welcomed in Harry's opinion. The wooden plank, tire iron and dog sick beans were much less appreciated. Monkey brains might be one of his new favorites oddly enough.

The only unpleasant part of the journey came when Draco Malfoy decided to drop by for some reason. Such a visit might've annoyed Harry but the sight of what was going on in Draco's mind only intrigued him. The white haired boy swept the door open and all but flounced into the room. His eyes roamed about looking for something, anything he could mock and make fun of.

"What are those, Weasley?" He asked derisively as his eyes settled on Ron's ancient dress robes which he had been using as a cover for Pigwidgeon's cage to try and trick the excited bird into sleeping. "Don't tell me you're actually planning on wearing those things? They must've gone out of style back in the 1890s, not even your mother could be foolish enough to expect you to wear something like that?"

"Get bent Malfoy." Ron shot back, his face almost changing color to match his robes, but he rallied his courage and responded. "They're for a school project I'm working on. I'm going to take these ratty old things and transfigure them into something stylish and impressive. Give me a few weeks and I'll make them into something a lazy git like you would have to spend a thousand galleons on."

"We'll see, personally I highly doubt it." Draco dismissed, feeling a lot more satisfied in himself now that he had gotten Crabbe and Goyel to laugh at Ron. That was the real reason why he was here. Draco was trying to slip back into his old role as the head of the gang of Slytherins he had gathered about himself. He was trying to distance himself from how uneasy he had started to feel around his father over the summer.

It was a little discouraging to see Draco trying to undo the progress he had made. But it was also heartening to see that he needed to work at that. The seeds of a conscience that Harry had inadvertently planted were proving difficult to stamp out. Harry's mind was racing for a way to try and push Draco a little bit more, to reinforce the effects he was trying to repress. As Draco continued, Harry waited for his chance.

"Speaking of a thousand galleons," Draco changed the subject. "Are you going to enter Weasley? Try and redeem the family name a bit? Plus I hear there's money involved, so it could do your family a lot of good despite the risks."

"Enter what?" Ron asked, a bit thrown by the change in topic.

"Surely you know." Draco insisted. "Your father works for the ministry, surely he's told you?"

"Draco either talk sense or get out." Hermione ordered, as she became increasingly annoyed with his presence.

"You really don't know!" Draco exclaimed delightedly. "I guess your father is too far down in the hierarchy to be told. My father told me weeks ago after he found out from the minister."

"Good God, Draco." Harry suddenly exclaimed as he saw his chance. "I knew your father was a massive git but I can't believe he hates you that much."

Anger flared hot in Draco's mind as suddenly there was a wand in his hand as he turned to face Harry. "What did you say, Potter? What audacity could make you say such a thing about my father?"

"I wondered how much your father must hate you." Harry said simply. "I mean, surely any sane and loving father would want to preserve the surprise of what the school has planned for us this year. Surely a loving father would want you to get excited with your fellow school mates as you discovered what wonders life has in store for you. But no, your father, the prat, is so insecure, so needy, so vain that he has to boast to his own son about the secrets his bribes and brown nosing has revealed to him, and ruin the school year for him. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised considering he's an attempted child murderer, but I would've thought he would have at least a little love for his own flesh and blood."

Draco's body was shaking with anger, but his mind was a turmoil of confused thoughts. Harry easily shifted his thoughts to see that Harry had simply accused his father of doing exactly what Draco was doing in this room. Lording his knowledge over others, trying to feel smugly superior and revel in the sensation of his pride. But Harry was his rival, the golden trio were his adversaries, surely it was right to try and put them down, Draco's thoughts suggested.

Then Harry planted the thought in Draco's head that his father had likely thought that way too. That when he was younger he had only put down his rivals, and his adversaries or those who were beneath him. And then after a lifetime of bullying others to make himself feel good he needed that sensation from everyone he met, even from his own son. That his father had turned his back on empathy, understanding and friendship and now was a bitter old man who would even steal joy from his own son to prop himself up.

To Harry's surprise, Draco's own mind then conjured up the memory of how, over the summer, Draco had confronted his father about Harry's accusations of attempting to kill Ginny Weasley. Draco recalled how his father had turned bitter as he brought it up but then slowly mastered himself. But rather than denying the event or trying to rationalize it, what Lucius had decided to do was lecture Draco about the dangers of a scheme he couldn't keep a hand on to control. He didn't feel guilty about almost killing an eleven year old girl, he felt embarrassed that the plan hadn't worked, he hadn't been angry about being accused of a crime but that Draco was bringing up one of his failures. Even worse, Draco had learned all the details of that year, of how his father had unleashed a basilisk in the school under the control of a man who had no problem killing purebloods if it advanced his aims. His father had put the life of his own son at risk. All to get one over on the Weasleys.

"Potter!" Draco exclaimed trying to drown the confusion thoughts in his head with anger. But he couldn't quite get his thoughts in order either. "I! I? You!"

"Do we need to step outside for this Draco?" Harry suggested, as he stood up and drew his own wand.

"Yes!" Draco latched on to that thought easily enough.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.

"This won't take a minute." Harry sent back to her. "I promise I won't hurt him or the train."

Ron and Neville stood up as well and pointed their wands at Crabbe and Goyel, who were starting to look very nervous. Draco paid the two of them no mind as his thoughts were focused on Harry. As Harry advanced he backed up and out of the train. Sensing the sudden change in the atmosphere, the train corridor became quickly deserted, as Harry and Draco took up stations at opposite ends of the train car.

Harry bowed to his opponent, touching his wand to his forehead as he had been taught. Draco copied the movement much faster with a grimace on his face. They locked eyes with each other for only a brief moment and then Draco struck.

The fight did not last long, Draco stood no chance after all. Harry could plainly see every spell he planned to cast in his mind almost a second before it came out. Many of the jinxes and hexes he cast were new to Harry, but he easily pulled the counter jinxes for them from Draco's memories. Add on to that, Draco's movements were sloppy, his anger surged in his mind and often made his limbs move too far with too much force, so the spells themselves were badly formed and slow to cast. The few times that Harry couldn't make a counter spell for what Draco was casting at him, he simply smacked the spell with his telekinesis and detonated it harmlessly in the air.

With every failed attack from Draco, Harry took a step closer. As it became more and more clear that Draco was beating his head against a brick wall, he grew more panicked and desperate. When there was only five feet between them, Draco prepared a wild fire spell to cast which would've badly burned Harry, Draco and everyone in the surrounding compartments. So Harry struck first with a simple: "Expelliarmus!" and sent Draco's wand up into the air.

Harry closed the distance between the two of them as Draco's wand fell to the ground. Draco raised his hands to defend himself, but with a little telekinetic help, Harry grabbed them both with one hand, turned Draco to the side and pinned him against a wall with his wand pressed to Draco's throat. Harry spoke simply for Draco's ears alone, while also pressing the same thoughts into his mind.

"There's a war coming Draco." Harry told him. "Maybe not for another five or ten years if we're lucky, but it is coming. You're on the wrong side of it. If you keep obsessing over all this childish nonsense it's going to get you killed. Wise up, and figure out which side you really want to be on, with the child murderers, brownnosers and cronies, or the people who actually want to see this world become a better place than we found it."

Harry dropped Draco who slid bonelessly to the floor with one hand on his throat, his eyes and body shaking with fear. Harry slid back into his compartment just as Crabbe and Goyel were shoved out. A second later the door at the far end of the train car flew open as an angry prefect stormed into the area demanding to know what had been going on, but Harry doubted Draco was going to say anything about his loss to anyone.

"Was that really necessary?" Hermione demanded to know.

"Merlin's balls that was perfect!" Ginny squealed delightedly. "The only way it could've been better was if you had hit him with a pimplepox jinx or something at the end when you had him pinned to the wall. Admittedly that would've given him something to complain about to the prefect though, so this is the next best thing. All the humiliation of losing a duel and nothing to complain about!"

"I really don't get why you even bother." Ron said, speaking to Harry's inner motive for dealing with Draco. "I can't imagine you're ever going to get through to him. He's a prick, he's always been a prick. He comes from an ancient and venerable house of pricks. You won't be able to beat it out of him and you won't be able to shock it out of him by making him realize that other people really do feel bad about what he says. Being a prick is in his blood at this point."

"Just like how there's supposedly mud in my blood?" Hermione spoke up, making every pure blood wizard in the room flinch at the insult. "Draco is an immature boy trying to emulate a waste of a human being because he has no one else to look up to. The world will be a better place if Harry gets through to him." And then under her breath she added, "Even if it's a long shot at best."

Ginny and Neville exchanged confused looks with each other. They of course had no knowledge of Harry's secret hope to help Draco become a decent human being by gradually building his awareness of others and the effects of his actions. Hermione and Ron only knew because they were privy to Harry's thoughts and memories. But Ginny and Neville didn't really care about what was going on for that matter either, both of them were simply happy to have seen Draco get his comeuppance.

"How'd you manage that spell work Harry?" Neville asked simply. "You were a step ahead of him the whole time, none of his spells had any chance of reaching you, it was astounding."

"Just good reflexes I suppose." Harry said humbly enough.

"It's got to be more than that." Neville pressed. "You've got a real talent for dueling I think. Back when you practiced with me I felt I was always reacting to you, but I figured that was because I was mostly using spells you had shown me, so of course you knew how to deal with them. But this was something else, half the spells Malfoy fired at you aren't in our regular school curriculum, I think they must be Malfoy family proprietary spells. Even then you still managed to counter almost all of them perfectly, it's like you were reading his mind or something."

When the words left Neville's mouth, Ginny's mind lit up like a Christmas tree. A dozen thoughts fired through her mind, almost too quickly for Harry to follow, all of them sparking off other ideas that had been drifting through the back of her mind for some days now. She made a connection and suddenly said aloud: "You can read people's minds…." In a stunned sort of way.

"What?" Harry asked with a laugh trying to play it off, but he could see that Ginny was about to start demanding answers.

"You can read people's minds!" She said accusingly. "I should've guessed it sooner, how else could it be that you can suddenly tell the twins apart from one another? Even mom and dad still get them confused from time to time. I knew something was going on with you three this summer."

"Nothing's been going on with us this summer." Ron lied through his teeth. "What could possibly have given you this idiotic notion?"

"It's obvious somethings been going on with you three." Ginny declared with an eye roll. "At first I thought that you and Hermione were fighting with each other again since you hardly talked to each other when she came over. But then I realized that it wasn't an awkward or a tense silence going on between you but a comfortable one. You were always smiling and laughing at each other out of the blue like someone had just told a joke or something. So then I thought that maybe you finally wised up and confessed to her, but then Harry came over and fell into the same joyful silence with the two of you. So maybe you have a three way going on, who am I to judge? But no, you all act like someone told you a joke without saying anything because you are telling jokes to each other, but with your minds."

"That's not possible, Ginny." Neville suddenly declared, with the authority of someone who had spent most of his life hearing stories about aurors and hit wizards from people who fully expected him to follow that career path and so didn't need the experience sugar coated for them. "That's not how mind reading works. Legilimency is a spell, you have to wave a wand and cast it just like any other. It takes a really powerful wizard like Dumbledore to cast it wandlessly and wordlessly. No way a kid like Harry with only three years of magical education can cast something like that. Plus you can't use legilimency in a fight, all the other spells going off interfere with it, and one protego shielding spell will shut it down entirely."

"I don't know how he's doing it but he definitely is." Ginny insisted stubbornly. She caught sight of Harry, Ron and Hermione casting glances back and forth at each other and added. "I bet they're doing it right now."

"I think the jig is up." Harry had said to the others through their mental bond while Ginny had laid out her evidence and argued with Neville.

"Sorry, Harry." Hermione thought back apologetically. "We've been relying on this new method for speaking too much, it's made it suspicious. We should've been more careful."

"I should've been as well." Harry agreed, "I didn't even think about the twins, they're probably suspicious of me as well."

"So are you going to tell Ginny about everything?" Ron asked.

"I may as well." Harry agreed with a mental shrug. "Unless there's some reason why either of you think we can't trust Ginny or Neville?" Neither Ron nor Hermione raised any objections, so Harry bit the bullet and spoke into Ginny and Neville's minds.

"Ginny's right, I am a mind reader." Harry said, while Hermione hit the door to their cabin with a locking spell followed by a muffling charm so no one would over hear them. Ginny and Neville all but jumped out of their seats as Harry's voice suddenly echoed in their heads, both had a look of wonder on their faces.

"That's not just legilimency." Neville said with a hint of awe in his voice.

"No it's not." Harry confirmed speaking aloud while also pushing the thoughts into their heads before continuing. "It's not even proper legilimency at all. It's something completely different, similar to magic but also quite different in many ways. It's called psionics, or really just psychic power. Something like magical energy but channeled exclusively through my mind and my thoughts rather than through wand and words. It all started a little over a year ago when a psychic, alien parasite got shoved into my head."

Harry gave Ginny and Neville a brief overview about the Illithids and how they had infected and transformed Harry the previous summer. He also told them about how he was gradually transforming into one of them and the powers he had gained thanks to that. Finally he told them about how the Illithids planned to overthrow the earth and how he, Ron and Hermione were planning to eventually rally the ministry against them.

Ginny and Neville both believed him, raised in magical households and having seen first hand how legends could come to life at Hogwarts, both of them were more than open to outlandish possibilities proving true. Plus both of them trusted Harry from experience. Neville was nervous about the threat that the Illithids posed, but his own courage was quickly mastering that fear and firming his determination. Ginny was actually really excited by the prospect. Her one real adventure at Hogwarts had mostly involved her being victimized by powers she hadn't understood, now she had a chance to be an actual active player in something much bigger and more important. She was eager to prove herself.

"So that explains your weird mental powers, but it doesn't explain Ron and Hermione's," Ginny pointed out. "Unless they've also gone and gotten themselves Illithidized?"

"No, no, nothing like that." Harry said quickly. He did not like the thought of the colony having anything to do with his two most precious friends, though he did briefly imagine what their minds might be like with full Illithid powers and that possibility intrigued him. "Actually, Ron and Hermione can only read each other's minds through mine. I've formed a kind of telepathic bond with the two of them."

"Oh thank God." Ginny said with relief. "The thought of my brother with free and unrestrained access to my mind is just too awful to consider."

"I love you too sis." Ron spoke up while he gave Ginny a very rude gesture.

"Right back at you bro." Ginny responded and gave him the same. But they both smiled at each other. "So when can Neville and I get that bond?"

"What?" Harry said, actually dumbfounded. Apparently, the ability to read minds offered him no help when dealing with someone who just immediately speaks their mind as soon as a thought forms.

"When can we get this mind sharing bond?" Ginny asked again. "It's not fair if you can go around reading our minds whenever you want and we can't do it back. Plus this sounds really cool, being able to have secret conversations whenever we want, or pass mental notes back and forth during school. And this way I can learn cool fourth year spells before anyone else in my year. I'll be the talk of the school. Oh do you think you could spread it further to some of my other friends? We could form like a secret society of students through the school, it would be so cool!"

"Slow down, slow down!" Harry insisted. "First of all the bond is nothing to make light of. I only formed it with Ron and Hermione because I had to. And it's dangerous too, I can force my thoughts into their minds and take over their bodies whenever I want, they both took a big risk accepting me like that."

"Oh poppycock." Ginny dismissed. "You wouldn't do something like that to anyone. That's like saying it's a big risk to give a knife to Fred and George because who knows what kind of dangerous prank they might play with it, when none of their pranks have ever hurt a soul their whole lives. Come on Harry this could be so cool."

"It could be really useful to bond with people as we bring them into our plans." Hermione suggested. "It isn't like there would ever be any danger of you abusing the bond and you've made it as safe as it can be already. It would allow us to better coordinate with our allies and make sure everyone stays safe in case the department of mysteries ever gets wind of what we're doing."

"But I don't want anymore thralls." Harry insisted simply. "I've got you two and that's enough for me. I don't even know if I could bond that many people. The mental bond is fairly powerful and intricately linked between our minds. I doubt I could form more than five or six bonds at most."

"Only because human minds are so weak." Esharry noted startling Neville and Ginny since he had spoken up for everyone to hear. "They don't have any psychic power so the burden of maintaining the bond falls completely on our own shoulders. As an Ulitharid you could hold the bonds of hundreds if not thousands of Illithids, who in turn could each bond with five or six humans to create the kind of network of minds that Hermione was talking about."

"But I know for a fact that a real Illithid would abuse the bond they formed with any human." Harry pointed out and then continued with growing emphasis. "So that's out of the question. The whole mind network thing is out of the question, I'm not taking any more thralls."

Ginny looked like she might argue but Ron knew that Harry wouldn't budge on this topic, so he shot her a dirty look and shut her down. Fortunately by that point they were nearing Hogsmead station and so Harry had an excuse to leave the compartment so the girls could get dressed. Neville kept to himself once he was outside as well, but Harry could see in his mind that he was also deeply intrigued by the thought of psychic power. Wizards were used to having powers that others didn't, and every student at Hogwarts was always eager to learn more, even if they might dislike the homework they had to do to learn it.

The small voice that had haunted Harry the previous year noted that almost any wizard that didn't immediately look down on him as a monster might well leap at the chance to become his thrall if it opened new opportunities to gain new magic and power. But the voice was quiet in its suggestions and easily ignored. It was only raising the possibilities not actually pressing Harry to take more thralls. He was truly satisfied with just having Ron and Hermione, they were all he needed.

"Okay I get that." Ron spoke into his mind. "You don't need any new thralls. But that's not the same as not wanting any new bonds with people, so what's up with that?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked back.

"I mean," Ron pressed on, "Why don't you want to bond with my sister or Neville? It can't be because you don't trust them to hear what's in your head, you're trusting them with your life by telling them about the Illithids. It's not that you dislike them personally. So what gives? What's turning you off the idea?"

Harry paused and considered the question. Ron was right, he didn't hate the idea of bonding with Ginny and Neville specifically. It was more the idea of taking anyone other than Ron and Hermione as a thrall. Because that was what he was doing. He wasn't bonding with them, he was enthralling them.

"That's a load of nonsense Harry." Hermione insisted from the other side of the door. "You bonded with us, you didn't enthrall us. And you won't enthrall Ginny or Neville either. I doubt you would enthrall anyone, even people you really didn't like, such as Professor Snape or Barty

Crouch. You aren't the type to use mind control on anyone for any reason."

Two memories crossed Harry's mind, a prophecy he had seen in his crystal ball, and a threat the dementors had made against him. The memory of an Elder Brain enthroned in Hogwarts, reaching with psychic power out over the whole of Great Britain if not the world. The dementors wished to use him as a siphon for all the world's happiness so men would freely offer up their souls to be devoured by them to escape the pain. The vision he had feared was of a true Elder Brain that might try to take over the world if Harry couldn't hold them back, but ever since the dementors had made their threat a new interpretation of that vision had occurred to him. Now he worried if perhaps it was a vision of his own future if he should ever become too much like an Illithid. Would he one day embrace his nature as an Ulitharid and willingly become an Elder Brain to exert that kind of power over the nation?

Hermione genuinely believed that Harry wasn't the sort to try and mind control people, but that simply wasn't true. He was an Ulitharid. It was literally the purpose of his existence, to mind control an entire colony of Illithids if not a chunk of the world itself. It was written into his very being and Harry had learned it was impossible to fight against his nature completely. That didn't mean he couldn't try and bend it to a more productive purpose. He needed thralls, so he had taken thralls. He had also taken every precaution he could to make sure he couldn't abuse his thralls, but he had still taken them. He would not take any more if he didn't absolutely need to. He could not stop himself from becoming a full Illithid, a full Ulitharid really, but that didn't mean he should embrace every aspect of being one, he could only give in to his nature so far.

Ron and Hermione remained silent as Harry's thoughts turned over his line of reasoning. While they did so, Hermione and Ginny finished changing and the boys switched places with them to put on their own school robes. When Harry reached his final conclusion he felt like Hermione still wanted to argue but Ron cut her off.

"I think you're overthinking this." Ron declared and Hermione mentally nodded in emphatic agreement. "But that doesn't make your concerns invalid. But it's a lot of worrying about what you might turn into, about the future and things we don't really know about. In a couple of months at most we'll have made you into an animagus and you'll be closer to being an Ulitharid than you ever have been before, we'll know more then than we do now."

Hermione agreed with that as did Harry. Personally Harry hoped that Ron and Hermione were right, that he wasn't some kind of monster that was steadily going to demand more and more minds submit to him. But he had to be aware of the danger. He had at least one magically enforced behavior, he might well have more.

It was pouring down rain at the village of Hogsmead. The sky had turned black, and they couldn't see more than a hundred feet in any direction. Harry felt a twinge of concern for the first year students who would have to ride in boats across the lake around Hogwarts to reach the school. But they would have Hagrid with them to keep them safe, and Harry was confident that Hagrid has sailed the lake in nights just as bad as this before.

Harry and his friends rushed over to the carriages that had been prepared for them. Harry saw they were being pulled by the same strange skeletal, lizard, horse, things that they were last year. Harry briefly wondered what they were but he was much more concerned about reaching a carriage while still mostly dry. Once they were all inside it wasn't long before the carriage set off and took them to the castle.

Everyone was glad to get inside where it was warm and dry, but their guards dropped a little too soon. Peeves the Poltergeist had decided to give the students a wet welcome back to the school and started bombarding them with water balloons from on high. Since the poltergeist was essentially a bundle of emotionally charged magic that had gradually accumulated from generations of stressed out students, Harry sensed him coming easily enough and so was able to save Ron from getting soaked with the first shot by catching the balloon with a levitation charm. Peeves didn't appreciate people trying to protect themselves from his pranks so he shot a number of balloons in Harry's direction. But by then a number of other students had joined in with Harry and began grabbing the balloons out of the air and slamming them against the walls. Eventually Professor McGonagall arrived and chased Peeves off with threats of getting the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin house ghost, who was one of two people that Peeves feared.

When they all finally reached the Great Hall, Harry, Ron and Hermione took seats near the Gryffindor house ghost, Nearly Headless Nick. Nick was a great conversationalist and a good source of gossip about what was going on at the school since the ghosts of Hogwarts were all good friends. As they waited for the first years to arrive and the sorting ceremony to begin, so that the welcoming feast could start after that, a question occurred to Harry, no doubt sparked by hearing McGonagall talk about the Bloody Baron so recently.

"Hey Nick," Harry asked his ghostly friend. "Do you mind if I ask you a somewhat personal question?"

"So long as you don't mind if I only somewhat answer it if it's too personal." Nick answered.

"How come you're the only house ghost with an actual name?" Harry asked.

"I beg your pardon?" Nick responded in surprise.

"I mean," Harry clarified. "You're Nearly Headless Nick, while the Hufflepuffs have the Fat Friar, Ravenclaw has the Gray Lady and Slytherin has the Bloody Baron. Those are all titles not really names. So what gives?"

"Well obviously it is simply a recognition that I'm the most important and famous of all the house ghosts." Nick said with smug self importance, Harry shot him a glare so he chuckled and answered him honestly instead. "Oh very well. If you must know, it's simply because I'm the only one of us who doesn't mind being known by my name. All the others wish to distance themselves from their lives and so have asked to simply be known by their titles instead."

"That makes sense I suppose." Harry accepted, "But why wouldn't they want to be known by who they once were? I doubt anyone infamous or dangerous would ever be allowed to remain as a ghost at Hogwarts, let alone hold such a prestigious position."

"Well for the Gray Lady and the Bloody Baron it's more about the circumstances of their deaths that they don't want to dwell on." Nick explained. "I don't know the exact details, they actually predate my arrival here by a few centuries if I'm not mistaken, but they did not die happy deaths as I understand them."

"They didn't die happy deaths?" Ron cut in. "You got your head cut off, well almost cut off, by order of the king because you kept miss-casting spells on a lady at his court."

"The final conclusion to a comedy of errors I dare say." Nick proclaimed in proud triumph. "To be honest I was a bit embarrassed of my death myself for the first hundred years I was here and so I originally went by a title as well. It was quite frightfully unfair in my opinion. But I learned to come to terms with it all. My two compatriots never did, and they wish to put the past behind them. I can't blame them in truth, they've been dead far longer than they were ever alive, so perhaps those titles are their real names now."

"What about the Friar?" Harry asked. "I can't imagine anyone that jolly having a grim death he wishes to forget."

"Oh no, of course not." Nick confirmed. "It's not actually his life he's embarrassed of, it's his legacy. He's actually too proud of his life and so doesn't want to associate with it in order to preserve his memory of it, free from how others remember him."

"What?" Ron, Harry and Hermione all said in near unison.

"You see, the Fat Friar is actually something of a celebrity." Nick said, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, "If people knew his real name there would be no end to the line of students coming up to him begging for an autograph or to ask him questions about this or that. It would not only be terribly disruptive to class, but it would be frightfully embarrassing to the poor man. This is because the thing that all the students would celebrate him for, he would consider to be his least important accomplishment."

Oddly enough, Harry empathized with that explanation. Lord only knows he would love it if people would just forget that Voldemort had lost his power while he had been trying to kill Harry. He didn't actually do anything to the man other than be there, so he certainly deserved no credit for bringing him down. Still though, these answers only raised more and more questions in Harry's mind.

"So, who was he when he was alive?" Harry pressed. "You can tell us Nick, we know how to keep a secret."

"Hmmmmm." Nick paused as if seriously considering this, but Harry could see a ghost's mind as easily as he could a humans and knew he was all too eager to tell. This wasn't the first time Nick had passed this particular secret on and he always enjoyed it. Ron and Hermione played along with him and added their own begging voices asking for the answer. Finally Nick relented.

"Well I suppose I can trust you three with this." Nick agreed then he leaned close to them and spoke in a quiet whisper. "But if I catch so much as a whiff that you've spread this tale around I shall personally ensure the three of you spend the rest of your career in detention, is that understood?"

All three of them nodded their heads emphatically, so Nick continued: "The Fat Friar's real name is Beedle."

"No way!" Ron silently shouted in shocked amazement, but Harry and Hermione just looked on vaguely confused. Nick laughed to himself at Ron's reaction but then turned disappointed as he saw the blank unknowing looks on Harry and Hermione.

"Oh yes I forgot, Hermione is a first-generation witch and you're practically muggle born as well Harry." Nick declared with regret.

"You mean you two have never heard of Bee-" Ron started with stark amazement.

"None of that now Ron." Nick interrupted. "You promised to keep that secret and I expect you to." Nick then turned to Harry and Hermione and explained. "The problem you see is that the Fat Friar is famous for writing a book of children's stories that every wizard child in all of England was practically raised on. But that wasn't the only book he ever wrote."

"The man was actually quite the celebrated scholar back in his day." Nick continued, in a slightly louder tone of voice. "The non-magical parts of his histories are still quoted from time to time by muggle historians, and no serious student of British wizard history can avoid relying on him as the most primary of all sources. He was also an expert compiler of spell lists. He spent so much time hunting through the Hogwarts library for forgotten bits of magical lore that his soul was naturally called back here when he died. His true magnum opus is still kept in the school's restricted section: The Bard's Broadsword. It's a collection of almost two hundred fighting spells, jinxes, hexes and curses that all rhyme with one another, arranged into a number of poetic battle stanzas so that the wand movements of each spell flow naturally one to the next with a dancer's grace. Why he even compiled a twelve canto long masterpiece called Bombarda in Fugue which was once used by the master wizard Knight, Sir Humphrey Buelreguard to force almost five hundred goblins to surrender, since they could do nothing but cower underground as Sir Humphrey recited the Bombarda in Fugue three time while continuously blasting the hills around them with spell after spell. Knowing parts of that tome has helped more than a few dozen wizards over the years earn spots amongst the aurors."

Harry, Ron and Hermione couldn't help but look across to the Hufflepuffs with a new sense of admiration, as the first year students began to file into the Great Hall with Professor McGonagall at their head. It was easy to let the Hufflepuffs fall into the background of their thoughts. To think of them as a spillover house, the one people went to if they weren't brave, ambitious or clever. After all hard-working was hardly a core personality trait after all, it was more of a learned quality. Then again, the thought occurred to Hermione first and then quickly spread to all of them, bravery wasn't an immutable personality trait either, it was a choice a person made at the moment when they felt the most afraid. The same was true of Hufflepuff they supposed, they were the one most likely to knuckle down and push on when the going gets tough. A celebrated scholar was probably a good choice for them as a house ghost.

The sorting ceremony thankfully didn't take too long. Harry was interested to see how this one was different from his own, the only other sorting ceremony he had ever witnessed. The sorting hat sang a different song than it had for their ceremony, though it covered all the same basic points. The students looked much smaller and more afraid than Harry could ever imagine himself being or looking. But the broad strokes were almost identical. Gryffindor got eight new students added to it, most of them were girls, and only one of them seemed to already have the qualities of a real Gryffindor. That was the young boy who was bouncing up and down excitedly over the fact that he had fallen into the lake around the castle and had to be rescued by the lake's giant squid.

Once the ceremony was done Professor Dumbledore stood up and said, "I have only a few words to say before we begin our welcome back feast and they are: dig in!" And with a wave of his hands the tables filled up with food of all kinds and the feast began.

The meal was excellent as usual. Harry was grateful for the odd camaraderie that had developed between himself and his cousin over their shared suffering through Dudley's diet, but he was glad to get to eat some real food once again. Even Ron had to admit the cooking at school was even a step above what his mother could accomplish most days. The meal only had two interruptions. The first came when Nick, who couldn't eat any unspoiled food, tried to reignite their conversation with a new topic.

"You know this grand feast almost didn't happen this year." He said in the half interested tone of a gossip with a juicy tale to spread.

"Why?" Harry invited the ghost to continue, "What could possibly have happened to stop the welcoming feast?"

"Peeves of course." Nick said and then launched into his explanation. "He always makes such a fuss about being allowed to attend the welcoming feast, and this year the Fat Friar actually took up his cause which meant we had to have an official meeting about it. In the end the Bloody Baron shot the idea down, quite wisely I would say. Whatever Peeves might promise the man simply can not spend more than five minutes around a meal before he starts throwing food at people. A harmless bit of ruckus most of the time but totally unfitting for a feast as important as the start of the year. Peeves took his ire out on the kitchen staff in protest, he caused quite a bit of damage before the Baron ran him out. The poor house elves were badly disturbed by the whole event. They only barely managed to get everything back in order when it was all done."

"There are house elves working here in Hogwarts?" Hermione asked with a shocked look on her face.

"Of course there are." Nick said back with a chuckle. "How do you think the castle is kept in such good order? I do believe there are more house elves working at Hogwarts than anywhere else in Europe."

"But they get paid, don't they?" Hermione pressed. "They aren't being exploited like everywhere else?'

"Paid?" Nick exclaimed, slightly scandalized. "I can't imagine they are, who ever heard of a house elf taking money for their work."

"But that's terrible!" Hermione all but shouted.

"Hermione." Harry cut in, "You can't actually believe that Dumbledore of all people is exploiting house elves."

That brought Hermione up short, she had a deep respect for authority figures in general and Dumbledore in particular. But if what Nick was saying was true then Dumbledore was taking advantage of them. She pressed on with this line of reasoning.

"I don't doubt he has the best of intentions." Hermione laid out what she was thinking. "But if the house elves aren't being paid than they are slaves, and no matter how comfortable or better off they might be as Dumbledore's slaves instead of say Malfoy's, they are still being exploited. Everyone deserves to be paid for their labor, it's only fair."

"Not if they're a creature." Ron spoke up.

"What?" Hermione and Harry said as one.

"I told you two this last year." Ron reminded them. "Creatures can't be paid wages. It's against the law. If they were beings that would be different, but house elves only count as Creatures of Near Human intelligence. If you could pay a house elf to do the same job a wizard could it would take jobs away from hard working wizards. Yes I know that's a load of nonsense Hermione, don't give me that look. But that's what the ministry's official stance on the subject is."

Hermione went silent after that, and not just verbally. She actually shut her mind off to Harry and Ron as well as she brooded on her own thoughts. That shocked Harry and Ron into silence as well, Harry hadn't known Hermione could do that.

Well really she couldn't. She had pressed the thought into her head that she didn't want to reveal any part of her mind into the copy of Harry's mind that was bound to her brain. Thanks to the filters that Harry had set up on that image, this made that image into a kind of shield around her head. Of course Harry could shatter that shield without expending much psychic power and peer into her mind by force, but it was clear that Hermione wanted her privacy right now and Harry would respect that. So he left her mind alone.

Nick seemed to realize that he had stepped on a conversation landmine and spent the next ten minutes or so extolling the virtues of how well the house elves of Hogwarts were treated. No one really paid him any mind. Hermione picked at her food as she turned over ideas in her head. Ron fought against a growing sense of anxiety as the possibility of another long falling out between the three of them developing this year like it had the last. Harry looked about the room for anything that might distract him.

When Hagrid came in to join the rest of the teachers, Harry found his distraction looking over the various professors of Hogwarts. Harry paid particular attention to Professor Bathshedda Babbling, the ancient runes Professor that Harry would begin to study under this year. She was a woman of average height with red hair that ran down below her shoulder, she looked to be in her middle years and had a fairly serious look to her face. Hermione had said last year she was similar to Professor McGonagall, that she was fair but brooked no nonsense and kept her class focused on the task at hand. Harry appreciated that idea, he liked classes that focused on the actual school work they did like charms and transfigurations over those that often devolved into the drama they could stir up like potions and divinations.

Harry looked over the rest of the professors. Now that Hagrid had returned there were only two empty spots amongst them. One doubtlessly belonged to Professor Tralawney who usually took her dinner in her own room. Supposedly this allowed her to channel her inner energies and better align her prophetic gift. Harry suspected it was actually because it was impossible for Professor Tralawney and McGonagall to share the same room for more than five minutes without starting a row. But the other empty spot could only belong to the defense against the dark arts teacher, who was still missing.

"Hey Nick?" Harry interrupted the house ghost as he was in the middle of explaining what wonderfully soft and cozy little beds the kitchen house elves had access to above the ovens to keep warm in the winter months. "Do you know if Professor Dumbledore was able to find a teacher for our defense class in time this year?"

"He did." Nick confirmed as he followed Harry's gaze to the empty spot at the table. "Though he had a devil of a time doing it, as I understand. The idea that the position is jinxed as spread far and wide by this point. One Professor dead not three years ago now, another mind broken beyond recovery, nothing too bad happened to Professor Lupin thank God, but the fact that Dumbledore had to hire a Werewolf just confirms in the minds of many how desperate he is. But he did find someone at least last minute, and he should be an excellent professor I think. Not sure where the fellow is though, normally the Professors arrive a few days before you students do."

"I hope nothing bad happened to them." Hermione commented as her mind opened back up. Harry and Ron both suddenly smiled at her with stupid grins on their faces.

"Sorry about closing down like that." Hermione mentally apologized to them. "I just needed to be alone with my own thoughts for a second there."

"Not a problem." Harry accepted. "We were just surprised that it happened, is all. Maybe a word of warning next time?"

"That's fair." Hermione declared. "It was inevitable that it would happen you know, there are times a girl needs a bit of privacy as I'm sure the both of you do."

"I'm just glad you aren't going to spend all evening brooding to yourself." Ron said his piece. "That would've really made me worry."

"I don't know if I could last all evening." Hermione explained. "I couldn't hear your thoughts either while I was closed off like that. The silence was kind of deafening in a way."

When the feast ended Professor Dumbledore stood up to make his usual set of announcements for the beginning of the year. The forbidden forest was still forbidden to enter.

Caretaker Filch had a long list of banned items which no one was to use on the school that could be summarized as the catalog of Zonko's joke shop. Dumbledore also mentioned that the restricted section to the library could not be entered nor any of its books be read without authorized permission from a teacher, while looking in about every direction around the hall except in Harry's. But his last announcements were what really set the hall talking.

"Finally I have two not insubstantial matters to cover." Dumbledore intoned. "First I regret to announce that the inter house quidditch cup tournament will not be happening this year."

Immediately students all around the room began to moan and groan at these words. Harry joined with all of them, the quidditch games were always a highlight of his year. It would be truly painful not to get to play this year.

"I know, I know." Dumbledore empathized with everyone. "But I'm afraid there really isn't any choice with what else is going on. I'm certain those determined to maintain and expand their broom riding skills will take advantage of our school's quite flexible club policy to form a broom riding club. Madam Hooch has already volunteered to oversee such a club should it form and thinks it shouldn't be too difficult to organize some exhibition matches over the year to keep everyone's skills appropriately sharpened."

That mollified the students somewhat. Harry would certainly be amongst the first to sign up for such a club since he loved flying so much. Maybe even such a club would turn out to be a good thing, since it would allow people who were good at flying but not quidditch level good a chance to get up in the sky. Once the crowd quieted, Dumbledore continued.

"The reason why there will be no official competitions this year is because the staff will be too busy organizing a different competition. So I am pleased to announce that this year we have the honor of hosting-"

But Dumbledore was interrupted from this announcement by the arrival of a person at the front doors to the main hall. The man at the front door was amongst the strangest Harry had ever seen. He was a short but broad man, with a wild head of hair. He wore a long overcoat that hid the shape of his body other than his general bulk. As he walked the sound of wood striking tile echoed with every other step he took, but the man moved with a confident and easy grace as if on two normal legs. When he drew closer Harry got a good look at his face and saw his head was covered in numerous scars. He was also missing a chunk of his nose and one of his eyes had been replaced with an oversized artificial one that spun about independently of the other, occasionally sliding back into his head as if looking behind him.

The strange man reached the teachers table where he had a brief conversation with Dumbledore who smiled at him warmly and greeted him as a friend. Then the man took a seat amongst the other Professors. A plate of food appeared before him and he began to wave his wand over it and sniff at it before digging in.

"This is Alastor Moody." Dumbledore explained while the man began to eat. "He will be teaching defense against the dark arts for us this year."

There was a slight smattering of applause to greet the man, but no real enthusiasm behind it. Defense against the dark arts teachers always seemed to come and go so quickly, it was difficult to get excited for any of them, especially for one so strange looking. Dumbledore continued.

"Where was I?" He asked himself. "Oh yes. I am pleased to announce that this year we have the honor of hosting the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts."

That got a much louder round of applause, mostly from students that had grown up in wizard homes. Hermione as well for that matter, but Harry didn't doubt she had read about it somewhere previously. Harry waited for Dumbledore to clarify which he quickly did.

"The Triwizard Tournament will of course take place along with our two sister schools from the continent: Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and the Durmstrang Institute of Sorcery. Those schools and ours will each select a champion to represent our nations and students, and each of those three champions will compete in three special tasks for points assigned to them by a panel of judges. The champion who wins the most points will be crowned tournament champion and will not only win fame and glory for their school but also a one thousand galleon prize from the ministry of magic."

That announcement got a lot more people talking. Especially the Weasley twins and Ron. Harry had little interest in this tournament though. He already had fame, glory and money enough to suit himself. Plus he had enough going on this year as it was.

"The champion for each school," Dumbledore continued when the talking had died down, "Will be chosen on Halloween night. Until then please take the time to consider carefully if you wish to participate or not. While efforts have been taken to ensure that the tournament is nowhere near as lethal as it was in the past, it will still be quite dangerous. So dangerous that the other headmasters and I have agreed to restrict the ages of tournament champions to those that have already reached their majority of seventeen years. Representatives from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons will be arriving the week before the champions are selected with their short list of participants. They all will remain with us taking their classes until the end of the tournament. I trust everyone will treat our guests with the utmost hospitality. And I encourage you all to seek out our guests, learn from them, get a sense of how magic is done in other countries, and perhaps make a few life long friends. With that a bid you all a good night."

Once Dumbledore's speech was finished the main hall cleared quickly as students made for their dorm rooms and bed. The Weasley twins were complaining about how unfair the rules were since they wouldn't turn seventeen in time to sign up. Ron's mind turned wistful as he day dreamed of standing before the school with a tournament champion trophy in hand and a thousand galleons to spend on his family. Hermione's shifted from amusement at Ron's thoughts to anxiety at the memory of some of the past tests she had read about taking place at the school and the horrific injuries that had resulted.

Harry's mind turned elsewhere though. Why was Dumbledore letting this tournament go forward? It was going to take up a lot of his time to manage it, and it would cause a good amount of chaos in the country while it went on. It seemed to Harry like this would only make it easier for Voldemort to move and act as he wanted, and harder for Dumbledore to track or find him. The only benefit that Harry could see was that perhaps it would allow Dumbledore to make other nations aware of what was happening in England and receive international support.

Perhaps that was worth it. But Harry couldn't shake the feeling that Dumbledore was preparing for failure.