Harry didn't notice any changes from his blood ritual straight away. He'd slept for most of Sunday, until Dobby gently awoke him to remind him of the Dueling Club meeting as he'd requested. Harry went through the meeting in a daze, once again allowing Neville to lead most of the exercises in his stead as he fought off a dull pounding in his head. Once the meeting had adjourned, Harry retired to his dorm, sleeping straight through dinner and into the night, his body exhausted.
He woke up before dawn the following day, suddenly alert and wide-awake. He sat up, eyes adjusting to the dark room, listening to the ambient noise of the dorm. He could hear each of his four roommates' breathing in their beds, the subtle creaking of pipes in the walls, and even a house fly buzzing around in the hallway. He felt more acutely aware of his environment than ever before.
Suddenly Harry felt the strong urge to get up and move around. He got out of bed and slipped on running gear before heading out of Ravenclaw Tower. He hadn't been going on early-morning runs much lately, with the shoddy weather and his busy schedule. But right now he felt jittery and full of energy, as though he'd been trapped in a cage and yearned to be free.
As soon Harry's feet touched down on grass, he took off running. He could barely feel the biting cold as he headed down for the lake, nor the light snow flakes landing on his skin. He barely even had to pace himself as he rounded the icy shores, his legs carrying him far faster around the water than ever before. And his heart rate was barely even elevated – it was like it took no effort at all.
Harry lost track of how many laps around the lake he took that morning. Five? Six? Usually he began to fatigue after three or four, but today he felt limitless, like he could keep going forever. He'd never measured the exact distance around the lake, but it had to be at least a mile and a half, if not two. He wasn't even in peak Quidditch shape, having cut down on practices during the winter months...there was no mistaking this as a side-effect of the blood ritual.
As the sun began to rise over Hogwarts, Harry became aware of a new presence on the grounds: Katie Bell, beginning her own morning run. He spotted her on the opposite shore of the lake, and despite being well over an hour into his own run, he accelerated, intent on catching up to her from behind. Within minutes he was pulling up behind her, tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention.
"Blimey, Harry!" Katie gasped, pulling up to a stop. "You scared me! How did you sneak up so quietly?"
"I'm just stealthy like that," Harry grinned; he was hardly even winded from his long run. "Good game on Saturday...you had the better team, no question."
"Well, you were the better player," Katie shrugged with a grin. "Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff ought to be interesting...your cousin's become a right menace at Beater."
"I look forward to the challenge," said Harry. "Alright if I join you for your run?"
"Really?" Katie frowned. "I saw you running from my dorm room window half an hour ago...you're still going?"
"Yeah, I feel good today," Harry shrugged. "Think you can keep up, Bell?"
"You're on, Potter," Katie smirked, and they took off running together. Harry was glad to be back on friendly terms with Katie; their romance hadn't worked out, but he still valued her company as a friend. They jogged together for another half-hour, bantering about Quidditch and life, until Katie called it quits with a stitch in her side. Harry still felt great, like he could keep going for another lap, but it was nearing breakfast time and he had classes to attend.
Even as his lessons progressed throughout the week, Harry felt fully attentive, his mind sharp and clear. Usually he began to flag in the early afternoon, his energy waning as the day progressed, but now he was firing on all cylinders, even earning praise from Professor Sinistra after his Astronomy lesson for his insightful questions during her lecture.
There was no question now that the blood ritual had given Harry tremendous mental and physical benefits. He was eager to see how it helped him in other areas, like dueling, but suspected he would see a marked improvement there as well. But he would never forget what he had to sacrifice to gain such benefits, and he said a quiet thanks to Phantom over dinner that evening, intending to honor the rabbit and not take for granted what he had given Harry.
January melted into February, and Harry settled into his new routine. He now ran for several hours every morning, which was necessary to burn off some of the excess energy he had built up in his body now after the ritual. His workload was increasing in his N.E.W.T. subjects, and he found that his homework and reading took him less time than usual due to his improved focus and mental clarity.
Part of him morbidly looked forward to his next meeting with Dumbledore, just to see how much improvement he'd seen in that department. But the Headmaster was increasingly busy as of late, sending Harry missives two weeks in a row apologizing for being unable to meet him. That was fine by Harry too: he could use some space from Dumbledore right now as he focused on other things.
Another Hogsmeade weekend was fast approaching, and Harry planned to spend it away from the castle again as usual. He wanted to check up on his potions progress, and perhaps make another foray to the Spiked Chalice to see about making some more money. But those plans changed when Tracey approached him at breakfast one morning, as he scarfed down a plateful of eggs after his customary two-hour run.
"Morning, Harry," she greeted him casually, sitting next to him. "Will you come to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"
"Morning, Tracey," Harry greeted her. "Er, I sorta had plans that afternoon. What did you have in mind?"
"I know I said I wasn't looking to date you," said Tracey quickly. "But Daphne's agreed to lunch with Theo Nott, and she asked me to come with her. I'd love for you to come as my double date, but if you don't want to, I can find somebody else."
"Nott?" Harry frowned. "What's she doing, going out with that prick?"
"I told her it was a bad idea," Tracey grimaced. "But his dad's a respected Lord, and they've offered her a marriage contract, so she feels obligated to go."
"Wasn't he sacked from the Wizengamot after he was caught in the sting last year?" Harry frowned.
"Yes, but the charges were dropped," said Tracey. "He has good lawyers, it would seem."
Harry considered this. He didn't know Theo Nott very well, but he was always hanging out with Draco Malfoy and his cronies, and his father was a known Voldemort sympathizer, so Harry automatically disliked him. Joining the boy for lunch sounded unpleasant, but he didn't want to resign Daphne and Tracey to such a fate alone, and figured it could be an opportunity to learn more about what was going on behind the scenes among Slytherin's darker circles.
"Sure, I'll come," he said.
"Great!" Tracey beamed. "We'll meet you in the Great Hall at ten. I promise I'll make it up to you!" And she planted a kiss on his cheek before skipping back to the Slytherin table.
Part of Harry wondered if Tracey was subtly manipulating him, claiming not to be interested but manufacturing excuses to get close to him. But truthfully, he didn't mind if that was the case. He enjoyed her company and would humor her, if only to see where it might lead later. (Did that make him a bad person? Was he using her? Was she using him? Or were they using each other?)
He met the group of Slytherins in the Great Hall that Saturday, noting the tense atmosphere at once. Daphne was wearing the same traditional dress she had at Lily's Slug Club party, while Theo Nott wore flowing robes of deep purple, a family crest emblazoned on his breast that indicating his status as heir to a noble family. Tracey, meanwhile, sported a Muggle overcoat and jeans, looking supremely awkward beside the two pure-bloods.
"Harry, you made it!" she smiled when she saw him, greeting him with a hug.
"Hey, Trace," he said, before turning to the others. "Daphne. Nott."
"Potter," Theo said brusquely, giving him a jerky sort of nod. He clearly did not look happy to be spending time with Harry either.
"Greetings, Heir Potter," Daphne said with an elegant curtsy. Harry stifled a laugh, figuring he shouldn't mock her customs, especially knowing that she wasn't being forced into them. He did notice that her attire seemed ill-suited for the snowy environment, so he figured he would be polite instead.
"Won't you be cold wearing that in the snow, Daphne?" he asked. "Here, let me—" And he drew his wand, casting a Warming Charm on her.
At once he realized he'd committed some kind of faux pas. Theo flinched, and Daphne suddenly looked flustered, looking nervously from Harry to Theo. "Er...thank you, Heir Potter, but I can manage on my own," she said awkwardly.
"Oh," said Harry. "Er...sorry." He wondered if perhaps he'd interrupted some pure-blood courting ritual, in which the male offered his coat to the female to keep her warm. He looked to Tracey for help, only to find her snickering quietly at his confusion.
"Shall we meet you at the Three Broomsticks?" Tracey suggested to Daphne. "We'll let you get your own carriage to get to know one another."
"Excellent idea, Tracey, thank you," Daphne nodded. Tracey grabbed Harry's arm and steered him away; once they were out of earshot, she broke down in a fit of giggles.
"C'mon, don't mock me," Harry groaned. "I don't understand half the shite these pure-bloods consider traditional or whatever."
"I'm laughing at them, not you, Harry," Tracey reassured him. "Daphne turns into a different person when she's in 'heiress mode', as I call it. She claims to enjoy it, but I know she'll be venting to me later tonight about how awful of a time she had with him. I don't know why she puts up with it myself."
Harry and Tracey grabbed a carriage into the village, laughing about the odd customs pure-bloods had to go through. Harry realized that he didn't know a lot about Tracey's own family history – she must have ties to pure-blood families herself, given her status as a Slytherin.
"My grandmother was a Rowle," Tracey explained. "She was contracted to marry a pure-blood at seventeen, but she ran off and married a Muggle instead. Got kicked out of the family for it. Both mine and Mark's dads got plenty of grief for it when they were in Hogwarts, but that was before You-Know-Who rose to power. I guess things are changing for the better in that regard."
"Definitely," Harry agreed. "I don't know if a Potter would have been able to marry a Muggle-born back then and been able to keep his status as heir."
"It helps that your mum is a total bad-ass," Tracey remarked. "I didn't think we'd ever have a teacher as good as your dad, but she's even cooler than he is! Really makes you wonder how their son ended up so boring and lame."
"Har, har," Harry chuckled. "Who agreed to this disaster of a double-date waiting to happen, anyway?"
"Hey, I told you I'd make it up to you," Tracey winked. She ran her hand up his thigh, causing a shiver to run down his spine. He forced his mind not to wander off to more salacious thoughts as they pulled into the village.
Harry casually observed each group of students disembarking from their carriages as they waited for Daphne and Theo to arrive. Damian was present, accompanied by his gaggle of fourth-year friends; Ginny, Dahlia and Astoria were grouped up, no doubt seeking to stir up trouble; Demelza and Luna walked down the high road hand-in-hand, the former looking nervous and the latter cheery as always; and the Golden Trio also arrived together, though Ron quickly broke off to meet Sally-Anne Perks. Harry watched them all disperse into the village, grateful that the Ministry had upped the Auror protection in the village during student visits to prevent any incidents like last year.
He noticed that there was no sign of Draco Malfoy or his group of goons here. That was odd...the last time they'd skipped out on Hogsmeade, dementors had descended upon the village. That was unlikely to happen again, given the increased protections – besides, Theo Nott would be there, meaning he would be in the firing line alongside everyone else. Still, Harry couldn't help but wonder what Malfoy was up to back at the castle, apparently too busy for both Quidditch and a casual afternoon outing.
Daphne and Theo arrived soon after, and based on the sour expressions on their faces, they hadn't found much common ground during the short ride into the village. The four walked into the Three Broomsticks together and found a table in the corner, where they ordered lunch and settled in for what would surely be an awkward meal.
Harry sat and nibbled on a sandwich as Daphne and Theo discussed banal matters that held little interest to him. Upcoming social gatherings, politics (not relating to the war), and the poor weather in Yorkshire, where both of their parents resided. Tracey occasionally tried to interject and involve herself and Harry in the conversation, but it was clear she was also out of her depth in such matters, so the two of them sat largely in silence listening to the two pure-bloods talk at one another.
Eventually their conversation strayed to a topic that caught Harry's attention. "Father says that Dumbledore has given up his seat in the Wizengamot," Theo remarked casually. "He was the longest-sitting member by several decades...that ought to shake up the dynamics significantly."
"He did?" Harry frowned. "Why would he do that?"
Theo gave Harry an odd look. "I would've thought you of all people would know, Potter," he scoffed.
"Why me?"
"Aren't you Dumbledore's favorite?" Theo asked. "You spend more time with him than anyone else at the school, besides maybe Longbottom."
Harry laughed openly at this. "His favorite?" he repeated. "More like his pet project. I'm pretty sure he's only agreed to tutor me to curry favor with my father."
All three at the table looked surprised by this information. "We all thought he was raising you as his protegee," said Daphne. "There was a rumor he was even teaching you how to duel."
"He hasn't taught me much of anything lately," Harry said bitterly. "He's just keeping an eye on me, mostly. After my incident with Malfoy last year, I don't think he trusts me very much."
There was a thoughtful silence after these words. "Well, to answer your question, Potter, nobody knows why Dumbledore is stepping down," Theo continued. "Especially now, given the war and his ties to the Minister. He must have something more important to do with his time."
Harry was getting that sense as well. Dumbledore had taken to leaving the castle for days at a time, and had canceled several weeks' worth of lessons with Harry in a row. What was he up to? Did it have anything to do with his lessons with Neville? Despite his recent close proximity to the Headmaster, Harry felt even further from understanding the man and his motivations than ever before.
The conversation drifted elsewhere again, and Harry's attention wandered to the pub around him. It was full of students, seeking reprieve from the cold; he spied his sister and her friends at a table across the room, enjoying a carefree outing. It was nice to see his sister looking so relaxed; she didn't voice her fears openly all the time, but he knew she was afraid for her family's safety in this war. Hopefully this would all be over soon and he could enjoy the sound of her laughter more often.
The door opened, and Neville and Hermione hurried out of the cold and into the Three Broomsticks together. Neville's eyes immediately landed on Dahlia, as she and her friends suddenly stilled to look at him in silence. For a moment Neville looked like he wanted to say something, but then he moved on, passing by their table in silence, red-faced.
"What's the story between your sister and Longbottom?" asked Tracey, following Neville's path to the back of the pub.
"Dunno," Harry sighed. "I've learned the hard way not to meddle in Dahlia's affairs."
"She's wise to keep her options open anyway," Daphne remarked. "I'm sure she'll receive many lucrative contract offers when she turns sixteen."
"As if she would ever consider a marriage contract," Harry snorted. "She'd more likely hex any bloke who tried to offer her one."
"Just because your family rejects pure-blood customs doesn't mean you can insult those of us who still care about tradition, Potter," Theo said icily.
"Tradition, eh?" Harry sneered. "That why your father supports a pure-blood supremacist movement, led by a man who isn't even a pure-blood?"
"I resent that accusation," Theo glared. "My father was cleared of all charges in that raid."
"Yes, and I'm sure you hang out with Malfoy and his cronies for unrelated reasons," Harry glared right back.
"Boys, enough," Tracey said sharply. "Be civil. Can't we just enjoy a simple meal without this war infecting our conversation?"
Harry and Theo continued to glare at one another for a moment. "Fine," Harry muttered, tearing his eyes away from Theo at last. His father might not be a convicted Death Eater, but he might as well be one in Harry's eyes – actually, the fact that he hadn't been caught made him twice as dangerous in their society.
Daphne and Theo fell back into courting mode as Harry forced himself to focus his mind elsewhere. He watched idly as Ron Weasley and Sally-Anne Perks sat at a corner booth, the former making some grand exaggeration recreation of a save he'd made in the previous match against Slytherin. Ginny Weasley was concentrating very hard on their booth from afar, apparently trying to levitate a napkin into Sally-Anne's glass of Butterbeer.
Eventually he realized someone had asked him a question. "Sorry?" he said, returning his attention to the table.
"I asked if you wanted to go to Zonko's," Tracey repeated. "We wouldn't want to overstay our welcome on Daphne and Theodore's date."
"N-no, you aren't overstaying at all!" Daphne said, suddenly looking desperate. "We're having such a lovely time, aren't we, Harry?" Harry had to stifle a laugh...clearly Daphne was not looking forward to her time alone with Theo.
"Zonko's sounds delightful," Theo piped in. "Shall we join them after our meal, Heiress Greengrass?"
"Yes, let's," said Daphne, sounded relieved. Tracey looked a bit put-out; Harry could tell she was trying to get out of the awkward dynamic. Harry too was surprised...he would have thought Theo would jump at the opportunity to ditch Harry, just as Harry was also eager to leave Theo. But Daphne seemed glad for their company, so he would suck it up for her sake.
They stayed a while longer munching on their food and discussing mundane topics. They decided to leave early when chaos erupted across the room, as Sally-Anne Perks had spontaneously sprouted feathers and transformed into a canary after sipping her Butterbeer. There was general pandemonium as several bystanders attempted to reverse the spell, while Ron laughed his ass off and Ginny attempted to look innocent the next table over. Harry and his group stood to leave just as Sally-Anne was transformed back into a human, storming out of the room as an apologetic Ron chased after her.
The two pairs walked down the road to Zonko's, which was similarly crowded with eager students. Harry had always enjoyed the uncontrolled chaos of joke shops; it reminded him of Fred and George Weasley, who may have chosen a different career path in this timeline but nonetheless enjoyed a good prank. He took in the various sights and sounds of the shop (and smells, unfortunately, as a second-year accidentally knocked over a shelf full of Dungbombs, forcing everyone to erect Bubble-Head Charms to breathe again).
At one point Tracey excitedly pointed out a display of glamour potions, dragging Daphne away to examine them. That left Harry and Theo alone to awkwardly wander around through the shop together. Harry realized this might be an opportunity to get some valuable information.
"Couldn't help but notice Malfoy and his mates didn't come to Hogsmeade today," he remarked casually.
"Yeah," Theo shrugged noncommittally.
"And he's not playing Quidditch this year either," Harry went on. "He must not have time for extra-curriculars."
"Don't see much of him these days," said Theo neutrally. "Always busy with something or other."
"Busy with anything in particular?" Harry asked.
Theo looked up to give Harry a suspicious look. "Why, do I look like his handler or something?" he asked.
"I just figured you might know, since you two are close," said Harry.
"He's my dorm mate, not my best mate," Theo scoffed. "Do you keep tabs on Michael Corner all day?"
"Fair point," Harry chuckled. Then, after a short pause, he tried, "But surely you must have noticed if something odd was going on—"
"Bloody hell, Potter," Theo groaned, turning to face Harry fully. "Why don't you ask me what you really want to ask me? You think he's gone dark like his father?"
"I've heard rumors," Harry shrugged.
"For the record, Draco does not clue me in to everything going on in his personal life," Theo said pointedly. "And if he did, I certainly wouldn't share the particulars with you."
"Why, because my dad's the Minister?" Harry demanded.
"Because you're a right prick when you want to be, Potter," said Theo. "I don't give a rat's arse who your father is – I certainly don't take after my own father in every way. But why would I give you more fuel to make Draco's life more miserable than it already is?"
"If you'll remember, Draco is the one who came after me for the past five years—" Harry said hotly.
"And he has paid dearly for it," said Theo. "His family reputation is tarnished, and his future outside the castle is looking bleak. The last thing he wants or needs is you making it worse. I'm not saying he's a good person, but don't kick a bloke while he's down, will you?"
Harry did not respond to this. He hadn't given much thought to Draco's state of mind over the past few months. He certainly looked like he wanted nothing to do with Harry whenever they'd crossed paths this term. Did the boy deserve a second chance after being thoroughly humbled by his father's disgrace? Was Harry overreacting to his presence in the castle, mistaking his paranoia for malice? It bore consideration.
Tracey and Daphne returned to the group soon after, and Theo offered to buy Daphne the entire set of glamour potions she had returned with. Harry offered the same, but Tracey politely declined, paying for her own handful of goods before the group exited the shop.
"Well, this was a lot of fun," said Tracey. "Shall we leave the two of you to it, then?"
"Yes, I suppose so," Daphne sighed, looking a bit put-out. "Theodore and I must discuss the particulars of our prospective contract, in case we decide to wed." Theo nodded glumly beside her; Harry had a sinking suspicion that they would not be going through with the union, but he said nothing. Instead, he merely waved goodbye as the two departed for someplace warmer.
Tracey took Harry by the hand and all but dragged him down the lane. Why the sudden urgency? Harry wondered. She steered him through the throngs of students before turning sharply down a side alley. No sooner had they left the sight of the passers-by did she pounce on him, shoving him against the wall and smothering him with a needy kiss.
"Merlin, I've missed this ever since the party," she whined into his mouth. "You do like to play hard to get, don't you, Harry Potter?"
"Wouldn't do to be an easy catch, would it?" Harry quipped, as he eagerly responded to her advances.
"No, it wouldn't," Tracey agreed, her hands massaging his chest. "There's something mysterious about you. Something dangerous."
"Not buying into the rumors that I've gone dark, are you?" Harry asked, half-jokingly.
"Only in my fantasies," Tracey smirked, looking up into his eyes hungrily. "Now, I did promise I would repay the favor, and I have every intention of—eep!"
Tracey suddenly jumped backwards out of reach, looking at him fearfully. Harry froze, standing stock-still...had he done something wrong? Had he misread her intentions somehow and crossed a line?
"Er...you alright, Tracey?" he asked nervously.
"Yeah...sorry," Tracey sighed, placing a trembling hand to her chest to calm herself. "It's just...your eyes. They frightened me."
"My eyes?" Harry frowned. "What about them?"
"You haven't noticed?" asked Tracey. She reached into her purse and withdrew a small handheld mirror, holding it up to Harry. He took it and examined his own reflection. At first he didn't understand what she was talking about. But as he peered closer, he saw it: subtle and faint, but definitely there. Two blood-red rings, circling his green irises, giving his eyes an ominous and eerie appearance up close.
"Must not have slept well last night," Harry quipped, handing back the mirror. Tracey chuckled, but still looked a bit shaken from the interaction. Harry knew that it must be an unexpected byproduct of the blood ritual, as Phantom had had identical red rings around his own eyes. He would have to take care to apply a glamour to his eyes in the morning now, lest anyone else should notice.
Harry and Tracey stood awkwardly across from each other in the narrow alleyway. The mood had been sufficiently soured, and Harry wasn't sure what the proper protocol from here was.
"Well...it's rather cold out here," Tracey muttered. "Shall we find someplace warmer?"
"Sure," Harry agreed, and they returned to the main thoroughfare together.
They walked side by side through the village, peering into window displays, making idle small talk about classmates. Harry wasn't entirely sure what this was...a date, a friendly hang-out, or something in between. And frankly, he wasn't entirely in the mood to guess – he had more important things to be doing with his time. He felt badly for thinking this, but spending casual time with Tracey was not the ideal use of his weekend.
"Well, this was fun," he eventually mustered during a lull in the conversation. "But I think I'd best head back to the castle now."
"Off to plot your takeover of Britain?" Tracey quipped. Then, seeing the surprised look in his eye, she added, "Sorry, bad joke."
"People don't actually believe that, do they?" Harry asked worriedly.
"It's a common joke, but no, I don't think so," said Tracey. "We know your mum and dad would have your hide before you got that far."
"That's certainly true," Harry agreed with a laugh. "Good night, Tracey."
"Night, Harry," she said. She pulled him in for one last lingering kiss; they both lost themselves in it for a moment, holding each other close, before remembering they were in public and pulling apart.
Once again Harry contemplated throwing his plans out the window and spending the rest of the evening with Tracey. Why shouldn't he be allowed to indulge in a little fun? Why shouldn't he take advantage of his reputation and make some lasting pleasurable memories before—
Suddenly Harry froze, ears suddenly perking up at something far off in the distance. Something distinct from the whistling winds and laughing children. He couldn't quite place it, but he got the sudden distinct feeling that something was very wrong.
"Do you hear that?" he asked.
"What?" said Tracey. "I don't hear anything…"
Harry tried to tune his hearing to whatever had caught his attention. Something high-pitched and distant, barely audible over the din of the village around him. A scream.
He took off running without even saying goodbye to Tracey. He drew his wand, half-expecting bedlam to descend upon the village in moments. Dementors? Death Eaters? Werewolves? Dozens of doomsday scenarios ran through his mind, as he rushed forth to deal with whatever madness Voldemort had in store…
But as he approached the source of the commotion, he instead found a small group of students on the outskirts of the village, on the road leading back up to the castle. They were standing in a semi-circle, staring down at a screaming girl, writhing around on the ground. Harry didn't recognize her at first, but it finally clicked as his mind registered the sneakers on her feet, the ones with built-in Cushioning Charms that he'd gifted her for the holidays.
"Dahlia!" he gasped, dropping to her side. His sister was frothing at the mouth, eyes wide and fixed on the cloudy sky, screaming an inhumane screech of sheer agony.
"S-she wasn't herself, Harry!" sobbed Ginny Weasley, kneeling at her other side. "She wouldn't listen to me...kept saying she had to deliver something to the castle—"
Ginny pointed to a bundle of parchment lying in the snow beside Dahlia. Harry caught a glimpse of an ornate necklace, one that looked vaguely familiar to him. Immediately he sensed the malicious magic radiating from the necklace, promising immense suffering for anyone who picked it up.
"Don't touch that!" Harry barked, pointing at the necklace. Nearby students leapt out of the way in fear as Harry pointed his wand at the offending object. He conjured a marble box and stuffed the necklace inside of it, before sealing it shut and stuffing it into his robes. He then scooped up the still-screaming Dahlia into his arms and stood.
"Tell Dumbledore I'm taking her to St. Mungo's," Harry told the surrounding students. And he turned on the spot, Disapparating away from the village with a resounding crack.
It took nearly an entire ward full of Healers to calm Harry down upon arrival at St. Mungo's. Once the initial shock of his appearance in the lobby wore off, and he'd handed off his sister and the cursed necklace to the attendants, he tried to force his way through onto the ward with her. The Healers tried in vain to keep him back, informing him that Dahlia was in good hands and they needed space to work on her, until one of them was forced to Stun Harry to keep him from clawing his way past them all anyway.
He awoke in a daze in an empty room elsewhere on the floor. He jerked awake, suddenly remembering the dire situation, jumping to his feet to find his sister—
"Relax, sweetheart," said Lily, who had been sitting in a chair beside him. "Dahlia's being taken care of as we speak. She's going to be alright."
Harry stared wildly into his mother's eyes. Only once the weight of her words hit him did he relax, sinking back onto the bed in relief. Dahlia would survive.
"It was a close thing, though," muttered James; Harry's father was also present in the room, pacing to and fro and looking just as haggard and stressed as Harry remembered from Christmas. "They said a few more minutes and she might not have made it."
"How did you get her here so quickly?" Lily asked her son.
"Apparated," Harry shrugged.
"Without a license?" Lily sighed. "Dear, we talked about this...you're underage, and you could have Splinched yourself or Dahlia—"
"Lay off him, Lily," James sighed. "He saved her life...I think we can forgive him for taking the fastest possible route he could think of."
"Yes, you're right," Lily sighed, retaking her seat. "Darling, can you tell us what happened? Ginny wasn't able to tell us much...she just said Dahlia began acting strange, then she touched that necklace and started screaming."
"Sounds about right," Harry shrugged. "I got there later. But it's obvious what this is, isn't it?"
"Is it?" Lily frowned, looking confused.
"Draco Malfoy," said Harry. "He's been plotting something all term, and clearly Voldemort instructed him to target my family members since he can't go after me directly."
"It can't have been Draco," sighed James. "Kingsley's looking into this matter directly, and although he was an early suspect, he was not even present at Hogsmeade, as he was serving detention with Professor Snape at the time."
"How convenient," Harry muttered dubiously.
"And Ginny said Dahlia was going on about delivering the package to somebody in the castle," said Lily. "We think it may have been an Imperius Curse. It seems like she was just an unintended side effect of whatever the true plot was."
"So that's it, then?" Harry huffed. "We're just going to let this go without asking questions? Your own daughter nearly dies to an Unforgivable Curse, and you just shrug it off?"
"We most certainly are not!" said James sternly. "The Aurors are actively investigating this as a murder attempt. We are not taking this lightly."
"And you are not to involve yourself," Lily said warningly. "We know you have a tendency to take matters into your own hands, but we are handling it."
"My sister was nearly killed!" Harry protested. "And I'm supposed to sit and do nothing about it?"
"You will look out for yourself and for your cousin," said James. "And carry on. Voldemort wants us to panic and over-react, and we mustn't play into his hands. We will prove to him that one incident will not break our family."
Harry wasn't sure he saw it that way. If anything, it would prove to Voldemort that he could take cheap shots against the Potters without retaliation. And what was his big idea, anyway? To leave Harry untouched while harming those around him? What kind of message was he trying to send? Or was there more going on than Harry was privy to?
Regardless, he knew he could not simply let this go. He wouldn't do anything rash, but he would be looking into the matter. What if Draco was responsible? What if Theo Nott had agreed to the double date in order to keep Harry preoccupied while this plot was underway? The very thought made his blood boil, and he intended to learn the truth from both boys – whether they wanted to give it up willingly or not.
The Healers would not let the Potters in to see Dahlia for several hours as they worked to stabilize her. When they finally did, she looked sickly and frail, lying prone in a hospital bed connected to half a dozen whirring machines.
"We've placed her under a magical coma," a Healer explained. "The curse drew heavily on her magic, so her core will need time to replenish."
"How long?" asked Lily fearfully.
"Maybe weeks, maybe months," the Healer shrugged. "She's responding well to treatment so far, though. Her magic must be strong to fight off the effects so well."
"That's my girl," James said weakly as he sank to his daughter's bedside, clasping her pale hand in his own. Harry and Lily took her other side, watching in silence as Dahlia breathed peacefully in her magically-induced sleep. Aside from the occasional twitch across her face and beep from the monitors, she could have just been taking a nap.
The Potters sat quietly talking over Dahlia's prone form for some time. The afternoon stretched long into evening, and eventually Lily yawned and glanced at her watch before standing. "Come, Harry, I'd best get you back to the castle," she said. "You need your rest."
"I'm not going anywhere," Harry said adamantly. "I'm staying right here."
"There are guards stationed all throughout St. Mungo's," James said softly. "Dahlia is perfectly safe."
"Do you trust every one of them?" Harry asked. "What if getting her to St. Mungo's was only part of the plan, to get her out of the castle? I'm not letting her stay here unattended."
James and Lily glanced at one another nervously, a silent conversation playing out between them. "Alright," James sighed. "But try to get some sleep. We'll be back as soon as we can." And they each hugged their son goodbye before departing from the ward, as Harry settled into a chair just outside Dahlia's room, determined to guard her door around the clock if necessary.
Over the coming days, numerous people stopped by to give offer their well-wishes to Dahlia. Sirius and Remus were of course in constant rotation, offering to relieve Harry of his watch (which he always refused). A few Order members also stopped by, as well as familiar Aurors on rotation, including Tonks, Kingsley and Cedric Diggory. A handful of Ministry employees and members of the Wizengamot also came to pay their respects, whom Harry politely met at the door but refused entry into the room. He wasn't letting anybody near his sister that he didn't trust completely.
In the meantime, Harry stewed quietly in his seat, replaying the Hogsmeade visit over and over in his mind, searching his memories for any indication of what was to come. But he couldn't make heads or tails of what had happened. Why had Dahlia been chosen? Was she the primary target, or merely the first person who got in the way of the true mark? And who would be brazen enough to attempt such a move in Hogsmeade, with so many Aurors around watching out for wrongdoing?
One particular memory stood out in Harry's mind, from long before the Hogsmeade visit. In Diagon Alley, over the summer, when he'd spoken to Borgin and wiped the man's memory before leaving the man's shop. Harry had run into Draco Malfoy on the way out, the teen entering the shop behind him. Was that where he had obtained the cursed necklace? Harry knew he had seen the jewelry piece before, and figured it could easily have been on display as he perused the shop. If Draco had been tasked with attempted murder of a classmate, that would have been an ideal way to attempt it...Harry just had to figure out how the boy had managed to pull it off, if he indeed had.
I'm onto you, Malfoy, Harry thought bitterly. I've found your smoking gun...now I just have to find a way to link you to it.
The deluge of visitors slowed to a trickle over time, but one unexpected visit did come later in the week. Fleur and Bill arrived together, the former wrapping Harry in a tight hug while the latter hung back. "Sorry we could not come sooner," Fleur apologized profusely. "We 'ave been swamped at Gringotts this week—"
"It's fine," Harry reassured her. "Dahlia isn't going anywhere. Thanks for coming." It was odd to see Fleur and Bill together; the last time he'd spoken with them, they seemed to be on the verge of breaking up. Bill looked remorseful as he approached Harry, offering his hand in greeting.
"Might we have a word in private?" Bill asked. Harry nodded; he waved Fleur into the room with Dahlia as he and Bill walked down the hall to a quieter part of the ward to talk. Bill shifted uncomfortable from foot to foot, as though unsure what to say.
"I wish to apologize for what happened at the last Order meeting," he said. "You and Fleur were right: it was dangerous to bring the matter out into the open."
"Dangerous for you especially," Harry pointed out. "You're lucky the Unbreakable Vow did not recognize it as a betrayal of trust."
Bill cringed at the thought, but he nodded. "I've put a lot of thought into our...arrangement lately," he said in an undertone. "We've decided...er, I've decided to continue on as normal for now. We can talk about expand our group at another date." From the way Bill glanced up at Fleur as he said this, Harry got the impression that it was more Fleur's idea than Bill's. He wondered how much Bill was actually agreeing with the course of action, or simply going along with it to remain in her good graces.
"We can reassess in the summer," Harry promised him. "I'm unlikely to return to Hogwarts for my seventh year, so I can join the search full-time."
"You aren't finishing your education?" said Bill, surprised. "But why?"
"I've learned just about everything I can from that school," Harry shrugged. "Besides, I'll have my N.E.W.T.'s in three crucial subjects, so there wouldn't be much for me to come back to anyway."
"I see," Bill said slowly, still looking surprised by the news. Harry wasn't surprised – Bill had been Head Boy and the star pupil of his class, so the thought of leaving such a position early must have appalled him. "Anyway, I have made progress on locating my contact in Egypt. We may be able to arrange for a meeting shortly."
"Good," Harry nodded. "Keep up the good work. I spoke with the Sorting Hat and received some good news about retrieving the Sword, so we just need to locate the Cup and we'll be very nearly done."
Bill actually looked relieved by this news. "Brilliant," he said. "Well, give Dahlia my best. We'll speak soon." And he shook Harry's hand before rejoining Fleur and departing. Harry watched him go, still feeling uncertain about his trust in the man but at least glad they were back on the same page. He would just need to be careful about feeding Bill enough positive progress to keep his spirits high.
According to the Healers, Dahlia was responding well to her treatment, well enough that she could be taken off her magical coma much sooner than expected, just a week into her stay. They tried to kick Harry out as they prepared for the procedure, but he refused, remaining seated at her side with her cold hand clenched in his.
Harry felt a strong pulse of magic rippling through Dahlia's body as a team of Healers waved their wands over her and chanted incantations under their breath. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open and she took a deep, rasping breath, flailing about slightly in the bed until she turned to see Harry and began to relax.
"Harry?" she croaked. "Where...how…?"
"Just relax," Harry reassured her. "You were exposed to a cursed necklace in Hogsmeade. You're safe in St. Mungo's now. Do you remember anything about what happened?"
Dahlia's eyes scrunched up in concentration. "Hogsmeade?" she repeated. "Er...I remember sitting at the Three Broomsticks with Ginny and Astoria...and you were there, but you left...I got up to use the ladies' room, and…"
"Yes?" said Harry expectantly when she paused. "Go on."
"That's all I remember," Dahlia frowned. "I opened the door and walked up to the sink, then just...blackness. Now I'm here."
Harry groaned internally. It was as he feared: she was unable to remember whoever had cursed her and given her the necklace. "That's alright," he said, stroking her hand softly. "You just rest. You're in good hands here...Mum and Dad will be here soon."
Dahlia nodded appreciatively, settling back into her bed, looking quite tired. "Have you talked to Neville?" she asked quietly.
"Er...no, not in a few weeks," Harry frowned. "Why?"
"Nothing," Dahlia said quickly. "If you see him, just tell him...actually, never mind. I'm sure I'll see him myself soon."
Harry chuckled to himself at this exchange. He'd long since given up on understanding the turbulent relationship between Neville and his sister. Whatever was going on between them, Harry certainly wouldn't make anything better himself, so he intended to stay well clear of it.
James, Lily, Sirius and Remus all arrived within the hour, having received the news that Dahlia was awake. They had a tearful reunion around Dahlia's bed, as the four Potters plus their two surrogate uncles enjoyed a quiet moment of togetherness. Harry had known at Christmas that such moments would become more fleeting, but he hadn't imagined such a threat to their unity quite so soon.
The Healers came in soon after, insisting that Dahlia be allowed to rest. Harry planned to spend another night camped outside her room, but James put his foot down. "You've missed a week of school already," he said firmly. "You need to get back to Hogwarts. Tell everyone she's alright and show that the Potters are continuing on as normal."
"We've got it from here, kiddo," Sirius reassured him. "Even if You-Know-Who himself shows up to finish the job, Remus and I will guard the door with our lives." Harry chuckled appreciatively at the quip, even if Lily looked horrified by the dark humor.
Truthfully, Harry was grateful for the reprieve. He was exhausted after a week-plus of vigilant guard duty, and his four-poster bed in Ravenclaw Tower sounded pretty nice right about now. Now that he knew Dahlia was awake and would be alright, he could allow himself to relax. He accompanied Lily through the Floo and back to the castle, where he headed straight for his dorm and crashed hard as soon as his head hit the pillow.
The next morning was a Tuesday, and Harry awoke groggily, wishing he could continue to sleep. But his father was right – he had to return to the student population and show that things were returning to normal. So he dragged himself out of bed and headed downstairs for breakfast.
As soon as he entered the Great Hall, he was mobbed by throngs of concerned students asking about Dahlia. He assured them all that she was going to be fine, causing a ripple of relief throughout the entire room. It was readily apparent how popular she was in the school, perhaps even moreso than Harry himself...students of all ages, from first-years to seventh, looked pleased by the news that she would make a full recovery.
Many of Harry's friends and classmates approached him to offer their congratulations as he ate his breakfast. He accepted politely, hoping that the parade of well-wishes would end soon so that things could get back to normal. But the sight of one person in particular caught his attention, as he turned to see Neville wringing his hands nervously, waiting to speak with him.
"Hey, Harry," said the boy. "I, er, wanted to apologize."
"Apologize?" Harry repeated, surprised. "What for?"
"For everything, I suppose," Neville shrugged. "For calling you a Dark Lord. For believing you weren't on our side. This whole incident made me realize how stupid I was being...I know there's no way you would go dark when your family is being so targeted like this."
About bloody time you woke up, Harry thought somewhat bitterly, but he decided to be graceful. "Apology accepted," he nodded. "Let's try to work together from now on instead of butting heads all the time."
"Agreed," Neville nodded vigorously. "And, er...can you give Dahlia a message for me?"
"If I see her again before you do," Harry shrugged. "What message?"
Neville shifted nervously from foot to foot. "Just tell her...I'm sorry," he muttered. "And that I miss her. And that...oh, hell, I should just tell her myself. Forget I said anything." And Neville hurried back to the Slytherin table, red in the face.
Harry once again chuckled at the foibles of teenage romance, but it was nonetheless nice to be back on good terms with Neville. The enmity with the boy was tiresome, and even if it was spurred on by extreme circumstances, it was good to know he longer thought Harry to be some budding Dark Lord.
Harry's eyes scanned the Slytherin table as he watched Neville retake his seat beside Mark Davis. He spotted Theo Nott in a corner with Crabbe and Goyle, all deliberately avoiding his eye. Know something about what happened, do we, gentlemen? Harry wondered as he studied them. He'd begun to wonder if Theo knew what was about to happen to Dahlia at the Three Broomsticks, and if he'd deliberately drawn Harry away to Zonko's to clear a path. If that was the case, the boy would suffer just as greatly as whoever was behind the plot.
As breakfast drew to a close, Harry spied Draco Malfoy entering the Hall late. His eyes landed upon Harry at the Ravenclaw table, and he froze, an expression of surprise on his face. Harry stared back impassively, silently judging the boy, gauging his reaction. Draco's face slowly morphed from surprise to fear, and he immediately turned on his heel, racing back out of the Great Hall from whence he came.
That was as good as a guilty admission as Harry could have hoped for. Draco knew something at the very least, even if he wasn't directly involved in the assault. And Harry was going to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible.
He excused himself from the Ravenclaw table and casually exited the Great Hall towards Ravenclaw Tower. As soon as he determined he was alone, he doubled back on the stairwell, instead taking a different path down into the dungeons. Using his vague memories from his original second year, Harry winded his way through the corridors towards the Slytherin common room entrance. He finally reached it, coming upon the blank stretch of wall where the hidden door waited to appear to the correct password. Harry didn't have the password, but he didn't need it...he had his own set of skills to draw upon.
Harry backed into a small alcove and Disillusioned himself, checking his appearance (or lack thereof) in a nearby window to ensure his concealment. He'd gotten quite good at the charm by now, able to make himself nigh-undetectable if he stood perfectly still. It wasn't quite as perfect as his old Invisibility Cloak, but nothing was, and he knew he could remain here undetected for just about as long as required.
Harry sat patiently across from the common room entrance, prepared to wait all day if he had to. He would wait until Malfoy emerged from hiding and tail him to wherever he was cooking up his schemes. If he didn't come out, he would tail Crabbe or Goyle instead, or perhaps even Nott. He wanted to know what they knew about the events of Hogsmeade weekend, and how involved they were in the plot against his sister. He wished he had Veritaserum on hand, but he lacked the ingredients (and funds) to brew it...perhaps a few creative curses could loosen their tongues the old-fashioned way—
Suddenly, a pair of hands roughly grabbed him from the hallway; Harry yelped as he was dragged out into the open. A wand flashed through the air, canceling his Disillusionment Charm and exposing him to the hallway; Harry wheeled around, wand at the ready, only to come face-to-face with a snarling Professor Snape.
"Potter," he spat. "I had a feeling you wouldn't let old grudges die. What do you think you're doing outside my House's common room?"
"Why don't you tell me?" Harry demanded. "Considering you seemed to know I'd be here?"
"I witnessed the interaction between you and Mr. Malfoy in the Great Hall earlier, as did most of the staff," said Snape. "For your sake, I hope you weren't planning on doing anything rash to the boy, for you would have been the first and most obvious suspect."
"I have no intention of harming Draco," Harry shrugged. "Not as long as he tells me what I want to know, of course."
"You were given explicit instructions to stay away from Mr. Malfoy," said Snape fiercely. "And here you are, clearly disobeying that directive. Have you no sense of self-preservation? Must you continue to jeopardize your standing here?"
"As if I care about my education," Harry scoffed. "If I get expelled again, I would find better things to do with my time—"
"I do not speak only of your standing at the school, boy!" Snape glared. "Your place in our society will be determined by your actions in the months to come. Your choices have ripple effects that can and will affect things in the real world."
"What, like my dad's position in the Ministry?" said Harry. "As if you care about my father's reputation."
Snape's eye twitched slightly at this remark. "This goes far beyond your father's status as Minister," he said. "There are a great many things happening in our world, things you do not fully understand, and all it takes it one foolish mistake to destroy any chance you have of affecting positive change."
Harry glared at Snape, more out of principle than anything else, but he did consider these words. Did he know Harry planned to subvert the law to get his answers? Was he trying to prevent Harry from going to Azkaban for it? Or was he simply keeping his fellow Death Eater out of harm's way by deflecting Harry away from him?
"Anything else, sir?" Harry asked through gritted teeth.
"As a matter of fact, there is," Snape sneered, rummaging through his robes and procuring a slip of parchment. "A missive from the Headmaster. A summons for your next lesson."
Harry opened the slip of parchment, reading Dumbledore's neat handwriting within: 'Tonight. Seven PM. The usual place.' That was certainly intriguing...he hadn't met with Dumbledore for a dueling session since their last heated exchange the month prior. This would be his first opportunity to test his mettle against the man after the blood ritual, an exciting prospect.
"Off to class with you, Potter," said Snape. "And do keep your distance from your Slytherin classmates...I will be watching you closely to ensure your compliance."
Wonderful, Harry grumbled to himself as he departed from the dungeons. Just what he needed: a Death Eater scrutinizing his every move within the castle. He continued to ponder the man's cryptic warning throughout the day, wondering what he could mean by it. Why did he care about Harry's 'standing' in the wizarding world? Were the rumors of him going dark spreading beyond the castle walls? The Prophet had been favorable in their coverage of the Potters as of late, but what if that were to change? News of the Minister's son illegally interrogating a fellow student might not bode well for his future.
But still Harry wondered what Snape's ulterior motives might be, where his true loyalties might lie. He got an unexpected bit of clarity later that evening, when he reported to the Room of Requirement for his meeting with Dumbledore. He paused before rounding the final corner to the entrance, his improved sense of hearing alerting him to voices nearby. He remained concealed and listened in on the conversation in progress:
"...an untenable position," Snape was saying. "You know this peace cannot last."
"It can and it must," Dumbledore asserted firmly. "It would put all our plans in jeopardy if another incident between Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy were to take place."
"I cannot keep the two idiots separated forever," Snape said bitterly. "They have an uncanny knack for antagonizing one another in new and unexpected ways."
"You seem to have taken a keen interest in their interactions over the past year," Dumbledore remarked. "Why the sudden intervention in your students' affairs?"
Harry sensed Snape's hesitation before answering this question. "I swore an Unbreakable Vow to the boy's mother," he admitted. "Prior to term starting. Promising to keep him safe at all costs."
"Ah," Dumbledore said knowingly. "And I suppose that would motivate you to keep them away from each other."
"It complicates matters when Potter refuses to leave Malfoy alone!" Snape snarled. "I have caught him tailing the boy on many occasions and headed him off, but if he were to slip past...if I were unable to stop him—"
It all made so much sense to Harry now. Snape was protecting Draco from Harry, knowing that Harry would seek vengeance for what happened to Dahlia, both in Hogsmeade and the previous June. Whatever promises Snape had made to Narcissa Malfoy meant that he was forced to act as Draco's bodyguard, keeping Harry away despite knowing what crimes he must have been ordered to commit on his new Lord's behalf.
"You've done an admirable job thus far, Severus," Dumbledore commended him. "We can discuss this further another time, when Mr. Potter is not listening in from around the corner."
Harry groaned internally; of course Dumbledore would know he was there. He came out from around the bend; Snape was pacing to and fro in front of the tapestry, glaring at him, while the Headmaster calmly observed him, standing outside the entrance to the Room of Requirement.
"Eavesdropping, are we, Potter?" Snape sneered.
"The conversation seemed pertinent to my interests, sir," Harry fired back. "Anything else you'd like to share with me?"
Snape gave him a sour look, and with one final glance at Dumbledore he swept from the corridor, passing Harry and disappearing down a nearby stairwell. Harry approached the Headmaster and looked at him quizzically.
"Snape is taking vows without tell you now, is he?" Harry asked innocently.
"Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore corrected gently. "He is free to do as he wishes outside the castle, so long as his primary concern is protecting students within these walls."
"Does that include my sister?" Harry asked hotly. "Or does she not count, since she wasn't inside the castle at the time?"
"I hope you don't mean to suggest that Professor Snape was involved in what happened to Dahlia," said Dumbledore.
"Not directly," Harry shrugged. "But if he is protecting the person responsible, he might as well be guilty."
"I have given the Aurors free reign to investigate this matter as they see fit," said Dumbledore. "Multiple people were questioned, including Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy, and both were cleared of any wrongdoing."
"But Draco has to know something about what's going on," Harry protested. "I saw him, sir, this morning—he practically sprinted out of the Great Hall to get away from me!"
"Draco fears you, Harry, that is no secret," said Dumbledore. "Your family holds all the power against his, and due to his father's affiliations with Voldemort—"
"I don't give a damn about his father!" said Harry. "Lucius is in Azkaban where he belongs. Yet Draco, who by your own admission is likely a Death Eater himself now, is allowed to roam free!"
"Not nearly as free as you imagine," said Dumbledore. "Professor Snape is watching him like a hawk, per my request, and making sure he is not causing any issues. In fact, he assigned Draco detention during the last Hogsmeade weekend specifically to deter him from communicating with anyone outside of the castle, and he did not leave Professor Snape's sight once that day."
Harry sighed in frustration. Draco had clearly covered his tracks quite well, but he was still responsible for this somehow, he just knew it. Whether he'd been directly involved or otherwise knew it was going to happen, he didn't care...he was guilty all the same.
"Now come, let us get to work," said the Headmaster, turning to enter the Room of Requirement. "As you've noticed, my time is quite limited as of late."
"Why is that, sir?" Harry asked innocently as he followed Dumbledore into the Room, which as usual had taken the form of a dueling arena. "Where are you going all these nights?"
"I'm afraid it's a confidential matter relating to the war," said Dumbledore as he took his place across the room from Harry. "Nothing that ought to concern you."
"Does it concern your lessons with Neville, by chance?" Harry asked. Dumbledore merely smiled in his cryptic sort of way as he drew his wand for battle.
"That is a topic for another day, Harry," he said. "For now, let's see your progress."
Harry drew his own wand and dropped into a fighting stance. He was eager to test his mettle against Dumbledore today, now that the blood ritual had augmented his senses greatly. But he kept his resolve quiet, merely waiting for the Headmaster to make his first move.
Dumbledore began with a soft salvo of elementary spells, which Harry effortlessly rolled away from. He fired a few return shots of his own – nothing too powerful, nothing too complex. No need to give away his improved power just yet. They were still warming up, and Harry hoped to catch Dumbledore off-guard when he least expected it.
Harry and Dumbledore resumed their intricate dance they'd each grown accustomed to in recent sessions. They both knew the other's fighting styles quite well by now – Dumbledore knew to be cautious and avoid opening himself up to any daring counter-attacks, while Harry knew not to over-expose himself and allow Dumbledore to sneak in a clever bit of Transfiguration to catch him unprepared.
Dumbledore made his first real attempt at victory soon after, distracting Harry with a handful of high jinxes before transfiguring the ground beneath the teen's feet into water. But Harry was prepared for such a tactic; he swiftly cast a Solid-Footing Charm on himself, allowing him to stand atop the lapping surface as though it were firm ground. He'd come across the obscure charm in an old library book and figured it could come in handy one day.
"Very clever, Harry," Dumbledore appraised the boy. "You're learning to think outside the box."
That's not all I've learned, Harry thought to himself. But still he didn't want to reveal his cards to the Headmaster just yet. He kept up his steady pace, not disrupting the natural flow of their exchanges, waiting for the appropriate moment.
Harry didn't know how long their delicate dance went on for, but he felt as though he could go on for ages. His stamina was vastly improved, and while by now he might have begun to flag and tire, now he felt like he was still at the start of a marathon, prepared to run as long as necessary to reach the finish line. Could Dumbledore say the same? The man was pushing a hundred and fifty...surely he couldn't keep this up all day, right?
But the Headmaster remained infuriatingly steadfast, keeping up the pressure, effortlessly dodging Harry's most earnest attempts at victory. Still not going to give me an easy win, are you? Harry thought. Very well. Time to see if you're truly invincible.
Harry continued to poke and prod until he saw an opening. It came when Dumbledore briefly paused to regain his footing, having stumbled slightly on his flowing robes. Harry fired a practiced combination of three spells, which he had prepared for just this moment. They sizzled ominously as they sailed across the room at Dumbledore, brimming with power. The Headmaster was forced to summon a large silver shield to intercept the incoming barrage, absorbing the three jets of light with a resounding gong.
But the large flash of resulting light meant the Headmaster would be temporarily blinded. Harry sprinted around the room in a wide circle, his augmented abilities allowing him to get behind the Headmaster in just a few strides. He fired a lone Expelliarmus at Dumbledore's back, praying that the silent spell would go unnoticed as the Headmaster was preoccupied with the frontal assault.
And to Harry's amazement, it seemed to be working. Dumbledore lowered his shield, frantically looking around for Harry. The Disarming Charm sailed totally silent at the Headmaster's exposed back, its target fully unaware of what was to come. I've got him, Harry realized in silent triumph. I've beaten Dumbledore.
Then, to Harry's utter amazement, Dumbledore's wand arm flicked out behind him, swatting aside the Disarming Charm like an irksome gnat. How?! Harry thought, bewildered...there was no way Dumbledore could have known the spell was coming. It was simply impossible. The next moment, thick vines were wrapping themselves around Harry's ankles, dragging him to the ground and pinning him there, as the Headmaster strolled over to face his fallen foe.
"You almost had me there, Harry," said Dumbledore; he actually had a bit of perspiration on his brow, and he grunted as he summoned an armchair and sank down into it. "I have not faced a fight like that in quite some time."
"Don't patronize me," Harry grumbled, getting back to his feet as the vines retracted back beneath the ground. "Now come on, let's go again. We're not finished here."
"Oh, I think we're quite done for the evening," said Dumbledore. "In fact, I think this is the last session you and I will have."
"What? Why?" Harry demanded. "I'm finally making progress! As you said, I almost had you!"
"Yes, and that is the problem," Dumbledore sighed. "You did precisely what I warned you not to, Harry. You took a shortcut rather than progress naturally. You sacrificed a bit of your soul in whatever ritual you have performed to strengthen your body and mind."
"And it was worth it!" Harry retorted. "It allowed me to get the upper hand on you! And if I'm lucky, I can catch Voldemort off-guard as well!"
"As I have repeatedly told you, Harry, your job is not to defeat Voldemort by yourself," said Dumbledore. "My goal was to arm you with the tools to survive this coming war. Clearly you have decided to take your own route to do so, rather than bother to learn what I have to teach you."
"Yeah? And what are you trying to teach me?" Harry demanded. "That your word is law? That nobody can ever stand up to you? Is that what the problem is now, huh? You realized I'm getting close to beating you, and don't want to have your ego deflated?"
"It is not a matter of ego—" Dumbledore sighed.
"You can tell yourself that all you want!" Harry glared. "All I'm hearing is that you think you know better than everyone else. That you think you're the all-knowing, all-powerful leader who is going to win this war by himself. To hell with that! You're not some war general, moving pawns around a chessboard – you can't just control everyone to do your bidding!"
"No one is trying to control you, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I'm merely doing what I can as an educator to guide and mentor you through this difficult period—"
"Sugarcoat it however you want – I know exactly what you're doing," Harry huffed. "You want to prop me up as some sort of symbol for people to look up to. The good little soldier to keep up morale while you and Neville go off and fight the war yourselves. Maybe I don't want to be your 'golden boy'! Maybe I have my own ideas about how this war is supposed to go!"
"We are on the same side, Harry—"
"Are we really? Because you refuse to tell me what's going on or train me to improve beyond the limited potential you see in me! You made up your mind about me the moment you interpreted the prophecy to refer to Neville rather than myself! I'm disposable to you, just like my sister, and everyone else you deem unimportant!"
Dumbledore looked supremely tired, slumped back in his chair; Harry couldn't tell if it was exhaustion brought on from the duel or from the same old argument with Harry. "I am truly sorry you see things this way," the Headmaster sighed. "And that you have so little regard for the sanctity of your own soul."
"That's the difference between you and me, sir," Harry scoffed, as he crossed the room towards the exit. "I would gladly give up my entire soul if it meant keeping the rest of my family safe." And he departed from the room, fully intending to never meet with Dumbledore again.
It was obvious now that the Headmaster didn't actually want to teach him anything worthwhile. He'd strung Harry along enough to hold his attention, but now that he was proving to be an actual challenge, he wanted nothing to do with Harry anymore. Did he still fear Harry going dark, not wishing to train up a future enemy? Had he seen Harry as a serious threat for the first time tonight?
But no matter. Harry's path went far beyond where Albus Dumbledore was prepared to take him. Already he had a new checklist of items to acquire, tasks to complete for the next step of his journey. They would require both gold and information, both of which he lacked and lay outside the castle.
It was time for another field trip. And Harry had a good idea of where he wanted to go next.