Chapter 11
Amidst the chaos of the Quidditch pitch, students from all years of House Slytherin eagerly lined up to try out for various positions on the team. Among them stood a young first-year boy, clad in his customary house robes. He appeared out of place amidst those adorned in official-looking Quidditch attire, yet his expression remained unmoved, a mask of indifference concealing his true emotions.
The face was deceiving, however. Inwardly he was thrilled to be on the pitch. Particularly after Professor McGonagall had told him that his dad was one of the best players to ever walk the halls of Hogwarts. This had inspired young Harry Potter to give the tryouts his best, and even try again the next year if things didn't go his way today. His broom, an old, worn-out model with a chipped handle and frayed bristles, was propped into the ground, allowing him to lean nervously against it. His broom was a stark contrast to most of the other Slytherin students trying out, who apparently came from wealthy families. He spotted many Nimbus 2000's, as well as newer models of Cleansweep, and Shooting Star. He would have to be the superior flier if he wanted to stand a chance against any of them.
If the broom is the real difference, then next year Harry knew he would be able to purchase and bring his own broom. He didn't need much for belongings, and his family had left him quite the sum of galleons behind. If James Potter's love for the game was to be believed by Professor McGonagall, then the man may have been proud to have had his son using them on Quidditch frivolities.
Marcus Flint called the would-be players together, and Harry could feel the weight of his nerves being almost unbearable. The taller teen Quidditch Captain looked imposing. He was holding a brand new Nimbus 2000 over his shoulders, and looked bored by the number of people who had shown up, "Alright you lot, I know we have a few younger candidates to tryout this year, and I expect all of you to be as hard on them as you are each other. I intend to field the best team, so don't go trying to make the firsties and second year students look good. They will be playing against 5th, 6th, and 7th, years, and we have to simulate that here. Understood?"
Most of the eyes on the pitch glanced towards Harry, and as everyone called out, "Yes sir."
Flint offered a grin that did not show a hint of kindness, before saying, "Good. Let's start with Seekers and get that mess out of the way. Beaters, over here to me, Seekers, take to the sky."
Harry nodded at the dismissal as he and at least seven others moved away, and began mounting their brooms, before taking off into the sky. Before he did however he noticed two large older Slytherin boys standing next to Flint, and both glanced at him as the Captain spoke to them. Harry's stomach turned as both boys nodded, and Flint turned to give him a soft wink. The young boy did not believe for one second that Flint was asking them to take it easy on him, and if their reactions were any indications, he had a feeling he was going to have to prove himself more so than the others if he wanted a spot on the team…or if he even wanted to be respected.
As Harry took off to the sky he felt the broom respond to his movements. It was about the same as the broom he had used in his first flying lesson, and knew he was nimble enough to make it work. Nervously the young boy glanced at the beaters that had risen into the sky beside him, and he knew they would be trying to knock him off his broom.
When the first whistle blew he heard Flint shout to the group that the first snitch had been released. Without hesitation Harry darted across the sky in search of the snitch. Most of the group appeared to be searching around the middle of the pitch, but Harry flew above the rest, scanning the field, like a hawk would search for a mouse.
From the bird's eye view he noticed one of the Slytherins he recognized, Terrence Higgs, dive towards the ground, but the young boy frowned having not seen anything in the area. Deciding to remain higher up, he continued to survey. He heard the jeers of the crowd, and knew that at least one of the would-be seekers had crashed out falling for the lure of Terrence Higgs.
Harry knew that Higgs was the starting seeker last year for Slytherin, and was likely the most talented on the field. The older seventh year had only managed to make the team last year, but after suffering two losses, he knew Flint was looking for new talent.
A flash of gold drew his attention, and Harry didn't hesitate to make a dive in the direction of the blur. Immediately he felt a whizzing past his head, and his eyes widened as he jerked to the left and saw a bludger swirling to the other beater. On his right was Bole, an ugly, large, fourth year, that was on last year's roster. The teen was shrugging innocently at him as his counterpart Montague, a fifth year, attempted to smash the bludger right back at Harry.
This time the young man was more prepared and rolled under the attack, much to the applause of the crowd. In his time dancing around the bludgers, he had locked in on the snitch, near the goal post, and continued in his pursuit after it. A whooshing sound told him that someone was pulling up beside him, and the barest glance over his shoulder told him that Terrence Higgs was right on his tail.
In an attempt to push the broom to go faster, Harry leaned forward, and felt the broom tremble in exertion, clearly stretching beyond its normal, safe limits. Nevertheless the Snitch was getting closer to his reach. When his hands reached out, his senses screamed at him internally, and he rolled underneath the broom going full speed, and completely upside down, as Terrence Higgs went barreling over him, missing the attempt to unbalance Harry. Unfortunately at the same time a bludger slammed into Harry just as he righted himself.
The ache of the impact was immense, but Harry hardly slowed, despite the dazed feeling the pain was causing him. Luckily the bludger had only his non-dominant shoulder, but still he gritted his teeth, and continued his pursuit of the snitch. The young boy had suffered much worse injuries at the hands of his relatives, and knew he could prevail through the aches and pains.
With a final swoop he swept the snitch into his grasps and held it into the air in triumph! Applause was smattering across the pitch from the spectators, and when Harry turned to see what the Quidditch Captain thought of his catch, he saw Flint berating his two beaters, while Terrence Higgs was red from embarrassment.
When Harry flew over towards the Captain, Flint stopped mid-sentence, and gritted his teeth saying, "Nice catch, Potter. Beginners luck eh? Best two of three of course. Let's see if you can do it again."
Nodding without a word Harry just took off back towards the sky after tossing Flint the snitch. He knew at the very least he had already earned the begrudging respect of the others that had been trying out as two had already landed their brooms and departed, clearly seeing they were outclassed. This only left Terrence Higgs, and another boy that Harry didn't recognize, but appeared to be a fifth or sixth year.
Another whistle blew, and Harry once again shot across the sky in search of the golden snitch. Time seemed to slow as he analyzed his competition's flight patterns, as well as admired his view from the sky. It was a freeing sensation being up this high with no fear in the world. His reflexes could certainly keep him alive in a match, and Harry was beginning to feel confidence rise in his chest.
As he saw the nameless boy swoop into the sky, higher than Harry had yet to see him go, he knew something was up. Seeing a golden blur, Harry practically stopped breathing, as he leaned forward pushing his broom to accelerate, desperate to catch up. His desperation led to being short sighted however, as he whirled in a downward spiral, another iron bludger caught him in his dominant arm, and nearly unseated him from the broom.
Before he could right himself, or attempt to shake off the pain, another blow from the back of the head happened, and stars were all he could see as the form of Terrence Higgs swooped over him. The light of day flickered in his mind, and he knew he would be unlikely to catch either of his two competitors. In defeat he began moving towards the ground in hopes of staying conscious until then, but before his feet could touch the grass another bludger impacted him in the upper shoulder, grazing his face, whipping his head back, and making him fall the remaining way to the ground with stars completely covering his vision.
.o.
Harry stood in the Slytherin Common Room, his heart pounding in his chest. He had no idea what had possessed him to try out for the team again, especially after what had happened the last time. He had nearly been killed, and the memory of it still sent shivers down his spine.
From the look Zabini was giving him, the dark-skinned teen was likely thinking along the same lines. Blaise's eyes were narrowed, and his lips were pursed in disapproval. He knew all too well the dangers that came with playing Quidditch for Slytherin.
But things were different now. Harry had grown and matured since his first year at Hogwarts. He was bigger, stronger, and more experienced. And most importantly, he had undergone a ritual that had enhanced his reflexes and senses. He felt like a different person, and he had a newfound confidence in his abilities.
He wasn't sure why he felt the need to do this, but he knew he had to. It was as if something inside him was driving him forward, urging him to prove himself. He wanted to show everyone, especially himself, that he wasn't afraid.
As he reached out to the parcel that Hedwig had just delivered there was no mistake what it was. He had ordered the Nimbus 2000 just over a week ago, and had berated himself nearly everyday since doing it.
The Nimbus 2000 may not have been the top of the line broomstick, but he knew besides the 2001 and the Firebolt, this was still a high quality broom, far beyond what he had used in his first year. Unwrapping it delicately he could feel the eyes of most of the house table on him. All those 3rd year and above undoubtedly remembered he had spent two weeks in the Hospital Wing after he had been viciously attacked by a combination of Higgs, Montague, and Bole.
Harry could remember McGonagall had exploded on Professor Snape when his Head of House refused to punish any of the three boys, reminding the stern woman that Quidditch was a rough game, and that there was a reason first years were not allowed to play on the house team. The woman had been furious, but it had been out of her control. She had apologized to Harry after visiting him in the Hospital Wing, but the younger boy had been embarrassed about the situation, and waved her off asking her to please forget about it. She had not been pleased, but seemed to understand his reluctance to stay on the topic. Due to his talent in her subject she had excused him from the work he had missed, and left him to his own devices.
Now Harry was preparing a second attempt. In a way it was unfinished business. An opportunity that had been left open. He was not the same frightened little boy anymore. Tom's words had stuck with him since their last training session in the chamber, and he knew this was a demon he needed to confront, "They mutter about you behind your back. Attacked you when you were weak and defenseless. You are not defenseless now are you?"
Tom had been right. He was far from defenseless now. His studies were progressing exponentially as he pushed himself on his own, and delved into the books Tom recommended him every few days. He was looking forward to his first Hogsmeade weekend. During the day he would be left to explore, but as it wound down he would slip away to the Shrieking Shack to work with his mentor. He was itching to try his mentor's spell once again. He had dreamt about conquering the spell, and his desire to accomplish it only increased with each passing day.
All his dreams were within reach. He just had to be strong enough to reach out and take them. Being the Quidditch player his father would've wanted him to be, was just one of those things he really wanted to have. Harry may not follow the path of the light that his parents had, but if this would bring him closer to them, he would take it.
Sentimentalism does not hold any place in our path to victory, Harry.
Tom had said that to Harry in the Chamber of Secrets the first they had met. The quote seemed to rattle around in his mind, but he shook it off for the time being. He ignored the whispers as he held the broom in his hands, and for the first time in a while, a genuine grin crossed his face. Taking the broom in hand, he left his breakfast behind, and began walking towards the Entrance Hall that would lead to the courtyard. Before he realized it, Blaise was beside him whispering softly, but keeping his eyes forward, "Are you mad?"
"Probably." Harry agreed.
"You're going to try out again, aren't you? I have noticed you looking at the flier in the Common Room like a wounded puppy everyday." Blaise said disapprovingly.
Stopping as they crossed the door to the Courtyard, and reveling in the fresh air, Harry shrugged, "Been watching every step I make?"
"Yes." Blaise admitted openly, surprising Harry, "You're different this year, Potter. I have my suspicions, but I know you wouldn't be honest if I asked. Regardless, you are becoming a possible source of interest and entertainment for me. I'd rather you not get killed before I pay back my favor at the least."
Scoffing, Harry shook his head as he mounted his broom, before turning to Blaise with a slight grin, "You are right about one thing."
Questioningly Blaise frowned at him, while Harry looked up to the skies, "I am different this year."
With that Harry took off towards the sky, and acquainted himself with his new broom, feeling lighter than he had in a long time.
.o.
Harry had spent almost all of his free time the day before flying his new Nimbus. It had been a relief after studying so hard the last few weeks, and when he found himself standing off to the side with Zabini in Defense Against the Dark Arts he felt refreshed.
All the tables and desks had been cleared out of the classroom, and only a wardrobe stood at the front of the room. Professor Lupin had proved to be a pleasant surprise to Harry. After dealing with the incompetence of Lockhart and Quirrell his first two years, it was a nice change of pace, which led to Harry enjoying the class.
Professor Lupin was an interesting character. His scarred face indicated to Harry that the man had seen battle, possibly with a magical creature. The claw marks were deep, and it seemed his defense professor had a close encounter with something vicious. Regardless of that the man was always chipper, and seemed to genuinely enjoy teaching his subject. The more Harry delved into the studies of the Patronus charm also gave him a deeper indication of the talent of his Professor.
When Professor Lupin entered the room from his office he had a soft smile on his face, as he greeted the class, "Good afternoon, class. There will be no need for your books today, as we tackle a practical lesson."
With a tap of his wand on the dresser, it began vibrating aggressively, and a growl emanated from it, causing everyone close to it to scurry backwards, making the man chuckle, "Who knows what might be in here?"
One of the Gryffindors close to the front, Dean Thomas looked nervous, when he stated, "That's a boggart isn't it professor?"
"Yes! 5 points to Gryffindor. Does anyone know what the boggart looks like?" Lupin asked.
"No one knows." Hermione Granger stated without being prompted, "Boggarts are shapeshifters, they only take the form of what we fear the most. That's-"
"What makes them so terrifying, yes." Professor Lupin said happily, "It is what I will ask each of you to face here today."
The Professor went on to explain the incantation, while Harry stirred nervously. What did he fear the most now? Before Tom had taught him his spell, he would have thought it was dementors. Before he had met Tom he would've thought it was Voldemort or maybe his relatives, but now? He wasn't so certain.
Harry was surprised to hear the usually calm voice of Daphne Greengrass appear to be slightly shaken when she said, "Isn't our deepest fears a private matter?"
Remus frowned at the girl's question before shaking his head, "Facing our fears is part of growing up Ms. Greengrass. I understand your trepidation, but I assure you no harm will come to you in my class."
A subtle tension hung in the air as Daphne Greengrass, her usually stoic demeanor faltered. Tracey, her close companion, gently tugged on her robes, urging her to remain silent. Daphne's eyes flickered with a hint of unease, a stark contrast to her ordinarily emotionless expression. Harry, standing nearby, noticed the change and couldn't help but wonder what could possibly provoke such a reaction from a pureblood princess like Daphne.
Daphne, known for her poised and composed nature, suddenly appeared troubled. The usually serene mask she wore was replaced by an unsettling look of anxiety. Her gaze shifted nervously, and her hands fidgeted beneath the folds of her robes. Tracey, sensing Daphne's discomfort, reached out and discreetly tugged on her sleeve. A silent message passed between them, a plea for caution and restraint.
Harry, his curiosity piqued, observed the exchange with a furrowed brow. He had always known Daphne to be a composed individual, a true embodiment of the pureblood aristocracy. Yet, here she was, displaying a rare vulnerability that intrigued him.
What could possibly instill such apprehension in a girl of Daphne's status? What did she not want her classmates to see? Was it the weight of expectations placed upon her by her lineage, the fear of disappointing her family, or something else entirely? Harry couldn't help but speculate, his mind racing with possibilities.
The situation was further complicated by the fact that Daphne rarely shared her thoughts and emotions openly, making it difficult for others to understand her true feelings. Harry couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Daphne's anxiety than met the eye.
As the tension in the air persisted, Harry's determination to unravel the mystery behind Daphne's unease grew. He was determined to uncover the source of her fear, to understand what could cause a pureblood princess to tremble in such a way.
Blaise shook his head next to him muttering, "Well this could get interesting."
In agreement Harry merely nodded and watched as his Professor asked for volunteers. Naturally the Gryffindors all went first. Their blind courage was something that made Harry roll his eyes, but as each of them went up he became slightly irritated with how basic most of their fears were. Clowns, spiders, failing a class, it all seemed like a joke to Harry. When the Slytherins were asked for volunteers, none were quite so tempted to put themselves forward. Even Harry felt cautious of airing his deepest fear out to his classmates.
Professor Lupin offered the group a wry smile, "No volunteers? Mr. Malfoy, how about you lead by example. Come forward please."
Draco paled briefly, before sneering, "What will that prove?"
"Prove?" Professor Lupin inquired amusedly, "Nothing at all, Mr. Malfoy. It will just simply serve as a way to inspire some courage into your fellow housemates. Once they see you accomplish it, perhaps they will not be so apprehensive."
With a deep swallow, Draco's gaze swept the room, acknowledging the lack of support coming his way. Straightening his posture, the blonde-haired teen moved to the front, his wand gripped tightly in his hand. Harry observed as Draco trembled slightly, a detail that seemed to go unnoticed by the others. Lucius Malfoy appeared, berating Draco for his failure. To the ferret's credit, he cast the Riddikulus Charm at his father, transforming him into a monkey on a unicycle. The class erupted in laughter, and Draco, looking relieved, adopted an even more pompous demeanor. This annoyed Harry and, judging by his huff, Blaise as well.
"Pompous git." Blaise whispered.
Harry could only nod, as Professor Lupin turned his attention towards them, "Mr. Zabini, you're up."
Blaise stilled, but after a moment of hesitation nodded, before approaching the monkey on the unicycle. The monkey turned to face Blaise suddenly, and Harry watched carefully. He supposed he might learn something here about his new acquaintance. In interest Harry watched as the boggart shape shifted into a beautiful dark haired woman, that could only be Blaise's mother, the woman scoffed at her son saying, "If you think your story has a happy ending you haven't been paying attention."
The woman's frosty tone made Harry stand up straighter. She looked furious, but Blaise's cool expression held as he stared defiantly at the woman, "You're too weak to do what is necessary. You are just like your father-"
Before the woman could continue Blaise hissed out, "Riddikulus!"
With a flick of his wand, Blaise transformed the shapeshifter into a preppy doll replica of his mother. The doll immediately began bouncing on its plastic heels, adorned with colorful pom poms. Blaise swiftly returned his wand to his pocket, subtly nodding to his Professor. He then resumed his position beside Harry, maintaining a composed demeanor as if nothing extraordinary had transpired.
The class was profoundly shocked by the spectacle they had witnessed, yet the aloof boy remained unperturbed, exhibiting no signs of disturbance. It was as if he knew beforehand what he would encounter. Even when the woman appeared, there wasn't the slightest hint of surprise on his face. Blaise's deepest fear, Harry surmised, was being perceived as weak, particularly by his mother. Although he didn't fully grasp the reasoning behind this, he could empathize with the sentiment. As he observed Crabbe and Goyle's clumsy attempts, a sudden unease crept into Harry's mind. What if Voldemort made an appearance? What if the class witnessed something inexplicable? He couldn't help but imagine the reaction of his Professor, who would undoubtedly report the incident to the Headmaster. The thought of a young Voldemort materializing in the classroom sent shivers down his spine, causing his stomach to churn with anxiety. There was no possible way he could explain what might happen next.
His eyes surveyed the room trying to think of a way out of the lesson, but before he could his focus was snapped back to the front of the room when Daphne Greengrass was called to the front. With interest Harry surveyed the girl.
In Slytherin House, mastering one's emotions was a testament to one's cunning. Many achieved this by maintaining a composed demeanor, never revealing their true feelings. Daphne Greengrass had always been the epitome of this type of Slytherin. However, to Harry Potter, it was clear that she was rattled and apprehensive about what was to come. Today had already brought a few unexpected surprises, and Harry watched with growing anticipation, eager to see how Greengrass would handle the upcoming challenges.
Daphne's wand emerged from her pocket, its polished wood glinting under the soft glow of the classroom lights. The students watched with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, their breaths held in suspense. As the boggart shifted, a collective gasp filled the air. Harry's heart skipped a beat as he saw what appeared before him.
On the floor lay a small girl, her skin as pale as a ghost. Her features were almost identical to Daphne's, but this was not Daphne. It was Astoria Greengrass, her younger sister. Astoria's eyes were wide open, staring unseeing at the ceiling. Her chest did not rise or fall. A look of pain was etched upon her face, a pain that seemed to mirror the anguish in Daphne's own heart.
Daphne's jaw clenched tightly, her hand shaking. Instead of casting a spell, she simply shook her head, bit her lip, and stormed out of the room. The students exchanged bewildered looks, unsure of how to react. Professor Lupin, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, watched Daphne go with a baffled look..
Professor Lupin looked lost for words, as his wide eyes drifted from the door that just slammed to the dead little first year girl on the floor of his classroom, "Oh dear. I think that will be all for today. No homework. Class dismissed."
Without haste the Professor flicked his wand at the Boggart causing it to balloon and turn back to the cabinet drawer before locking itself, and then quickly departing the roof after his student.
Mumbles followed his Professor's departure, and Blaise scoffed, as he followed after the man, swiping at his book bag and departing. Harry however remained rooted to the spot as the mumbling students began making their way out of the class. Greengrass' worst fear was seeing her sister die? That was a bit of a peculiar fear, Harry thought curiously. The young teen supposed if that was the closest family member you had, then perhaps it was reasonable, but why had the girl looked so pained and pale? That seemed more specific than necessary.
Realizing he was the last in the room his eyes drifted back to the wardrobe. No one was left in the room. He could have his chance to find out what his worst fear was without the judgment of his classmates. It was a unique opportunity, and as his wand fell into his hands, he knew it was not one he could pass on.
Approaching the cabinet cautiously he flicked his wand non-verbally unlocking the boggarts hiding spot, and waited to see what the shapeshifter would become.
Out of the shadows of wardrobe an older, red-eyed, deformed Tom Riddle stepped out of the cabinet. Swallowing hard Harry shook himself, this was not Tom Riddle, this was Lord Voldemort. The man that killed his parents.
Morbid curiosity filled Harry as the Dark Lord looked him over before scoffing, "I would not have targeted your family for nothing. Foolish boy. You stand directly in my path to domination, and this time I will not fail in eliminating you, blood pact or not."
The man began to raise his wand, and Harry struck as quick as lightning, "Expulso!"
A hole penetrated the chest of the Dark Lord and it looked at Harry in surprise as it began to shrink down. The teen had wide eyes as the creature began to dissolve and crumble with a soft simpering whine.
Harry's eyes widened as the creature disintegrated into dust. He swiftly scanned the classroom, hoping not to have been observed. To his relief, the room remained empty. Gathering his belongings, he hastily fled, fearing discovery. The boggart's death was unintentional, triggered by the sight of his wand emitting an ominous green light. While he wasn't certain of the consequences, Harry rationally believed the boggart lacked the ability to cast the killing curse. Nevertheless, his mind briefly entertained that grim possibility.
When he cleared the room and made it down the hallway he shot up a set of stairs, and began to let his heart slowly settle to normal as he tried to appear natural in the sea of students he had found.
Amidst the chaos of his thoughts, a profound realization dawned upon Harry. He understood that his deepest fear was not simply Lord Voldemort's perception of him as an obstacle. Rather, it was the fear that upon absorbing the remaining Horcruxes, Voldemort would uncover the truth behind his pursuit of Harry's family. An intuition deep within him suggested that the reason for this pursuit held great significance. It was not merely a matter of eliminating a resistant family; the Potters had been specifically targeted by Lord Voldemort, and there was a specific motive behind this decision. Something that would not be able to be overlooked.
Swallowing hard he knew this was one thing he would rather keep from Tom. His mentor may discover it one way or another through their Occlumency training, but he would rather not share the memory with the man.
Taking a breath Harry did everything he could to assure himself. Tom would not have wasted this much time on him if he was willing to let anything get in his way of apprenticing Harry. The teen had agreed to the blood pact, and he would be faithful to the man that was turning him into the wizard he always dreamed of being. A wizard that feared nothing.
Harry, with his head held high and a determined gaze, dismissed the boggart's attempts to frighten him. He had come to realize that his fears had no real power over him, thanks to Tom's unwavering support and guidance. The upcoming weekend presented a unique opportunity for Harry to conquer yet another fear that had haunted him for the past two years.
As he made his way to the dungeons to retrieve his broom, his resolve solidified. The task ahead required focus and dedication, and Harry was more than ready to face it. After successfully completing his chore, he would immerse himself in his studies with the same diligence that had always characterized his academic pursuits.
Harry was determined to prove not only to Tom but to the entire wizarding world that he possessed greatness within him. He yearned for recognition and acknowledgment of his abilities, and he was confident that through hard work and unwavering determination, he would achieve his goals.
With each step closer to the dungeons, Harry's determination grew stronger. He knew the path would not be easy, but he was prepared to embrace any challenges that came his way. His journey was not merely about conquering a single fear but about embarking on a transformative journey of self-discovery and growth. Harry's unwavering resolve and unwavering belief in himself propelled him forward, eager to confront and overcome his fears, leaving an indelible mark on his magical journey.
(A/N) A peek into the minds of Harry's budding allies. Blaise and Daphne both will play big roles in this story, and Harry's rise to power. Look forward to sharing more! You can read through Chapter 15 on my Discord for free, and get an extra free update next week! Pat(reon) is currently showing up to Chapter 21, and it is only 1$ so join today for exciting new content!
My Discord is "The Hunters Lounge" or you can add me OrionB15 and I can send you a link! My Pat(reon) is also at OrionB15. Cheers everyone, and see you in two weeks!