Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related terms and characters are the property of JK Rowling. The use of copyrighted material is for non-profit entertainment purposes only, and in no way constitutes a challenge to the existing copyright.
A/N: Coming in at just shy of 10,500 words, this chapter was necessarily long. Only one more to go for first year after this.
Thanks for all the reviews! I hope to keep hearing from you.
Onwards!
~TOW
YEAR 1: For Christmas, there will be a Test
================================
"How the hell was I supposed to know that there'd be a troll in the school?!" That was the most memorable line in my entire argument with Ron the next day. I was pissed off to no end that he'd just about gotten Hermione killed. For any other person it would have been a quick "I'm sorry!" followed by "Is Hermione all right?"
Not for Ron, though; he went straight to his own defense, and never asked once about Hermione's wellbeing. I didn't go to the Gryffindor table to start a grudge match, but Ron's attitude just kept getting me angrier and angrier. I won't repeat what we said to each other -a lot of hateful stuff, I can assure you that much.
Our shouting match drew the attention of every student and teacher in the Hall. McGonagall and Flitwick were already making their way over, and most of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had stood up to circle around us. Hermione had moved to my side to hold me by the arm, and the Weasley twins had moved to restrain Ron. They were all too late, though; my last comment was "Your mother raised you better than this, you ball-less coward."
Ron stepped forward, swinging his right fist in an expert hook, while I was standing there with my arms at my sides. I had no time to physically react to the attack, but magic moves at least as fact as nerve impulses.
There was a sickening 'crack!' and I was suddenly facing sideways. I could feel the blood beginning to pool in my mouth, and my tongue poked at a couple of loose teeth. Ron could definitely throw a punch and I could feel some magic in there; by all rights I should be on the ground right now. Instead, I was counting in my head: "Three, two, one…"
"AAAARGGGHH!" I turned to see Ron dropping to his knees, cradling his obviously broken hand. His front two knuckles were already turning interesting colors, and the hand itself looked like Ron had slammed it full-power into a brick wall -which, considering my magical strength, was exactly what he just did.
"Did you think I'd let you hurt me?" I said after swallowing my blood. I quickly turned and walked out of the Hall, striding meaningfully down the corridor leading to the Hospital Wing. I had learned early on with Dudley and his gang that making a grand entrance or exit was worth more in intimidation value than any insult or threat that you can say to their face. I wanted to have Madam Pomphrey re-set my teeth and clear up the bruising that was sure to show up on my jaw before anyone could get a good look. With any luck, the notion that you can't just throw punches at me would prevent a few fights in the future.
Madam Pomphrey accepted my short explanation of "Ron Weasley hit me," and thanked me for my potions as she undid the damage to my face. It took her about three seconds to finish it all, waving her wand one final time to clear my breath and the taste of blood from my mouth. "Be careful," she admonished. "Not every injury is so easy to heal, and I'd rather not see you in one of these beds."
I expected that the professors would have likely docked us each 5 points or so for our public outburst, but the nature of the argument and Ron's attack on me placed the professors squarely against him. Since fighting was one of the more severe things to be caught for, Ron lost 50 points and ended up with a week of detention. To add injury to insult, his magic-enhanced punch had crushed his knuckles to powder, which meant an overnight stay in the Hospital Wing with a painful dose of Skele-Gro.
No one got after me for the incident; even Hermione didn't comment on it any further than to say "I'm glad you're alright." For those of you who didn't know the younger Hermione, that's the coded response for "I'm glad that bastard got his; I was just trying to help him with a charm, for God's sake! You'd think he'd at least apologize but no, it's somehow my fault that he insulted me and placed me in the path of that Troll!" An older, more outspoken Hermione would go on with that, too. Even though she didn't say all that, I understood her meaning well enough. We went to classes as though nothing had occurred, and then went to the library as I promised her.
Hermione and I fell into a habit of studying together almost daily. I would keep her from adding anything to her essays that the assignment didn't specifically ask for, and she would focus on spelling and grammar. She took me through the intricacies of the spells we'd learned, and I taught her how to take hold of her magic and force it into her body or spells. I figured that if magic worked like muscles, the more she pushed, the more there would be to push; I also vowed to follow my own advice. Why not get stronger if I could?
I couldn't easily explain my memory trick; it was something that I just came across, and I knew absolutely nothing about mind-based magics. Since neither of us had access to the Restricted section of the library, that wasn't going to change. Hermione was greatly disappointed.
Sometimes Pansy or Draco hung out with us; Ron was still persona-non-grata around the Ravenclaws, and I didn't expect an apology until Christmas when his mother would likely force it out of him. Draco was very much like Hermione: He had amazingly graceful wand movements and an eye for detail, but he hadn't had to use his magic for anything in his privileged life, so while he was brilliant at what magic he could do, powerful spells were beyond him at the moment.
Pansy wasn't a powerhouse like I was, but her time on a broom and charming objects at home had paid off quite a bit, and she had some power to spare. She was usually the second to get a higher-grade spell, as her excess power allowed to her to "forgive" a few of the details that would catch Draco and Hermione.
Thanks to Hermione's diligence and a little bit of background from Draco and Pansy, I began to understand why spell pronunciation was so important. It wasn't the word itself that was critical, but the specific frequency of sound in your voice that carried and formed the power. Draco and Pansy referred to this as "vocalization," as the concept of "frequency" is a muggle invention. Since everyone's voice was different, there was no point in creating a standardized rule set for the right way to pronounce spells; you took the word and played with it until you got the maximum effect out of it for your spells. Practice, practice, practice.
My best explanation as a first-year was that the raw spell was formed in your mind and pushed out your mouth through your vocalization. Your wand then fine-tuned the spell into a usable form. This wasn't exactly correct of course, but my mental picture of mind-to-mouth-to-wand-to-target helped my overall technique immensely.
It also explained silent casting for me as well: Instead of letting the spell flow through your mouth, you let it flow through your wand. Silent casting, however, proved to be one of my greatest weaknesses, since power travels easiest through vocalizations. The wand can channel power through to the overall effect, but not for the creation of the effect.
I normally enjoyed a 50%-75% error margin on wand movements and about a 30%-35% margin on vocalization due to my power. When trying to cast silently, there is no tolerance for error in the wand movements, regardless of how powerful of an effect I'm going for. I was very dependant on my power to perform magic, and it took Draco and Hermione until Christmas to refine my technique to the point that I could occasionally cast a spell other than basic levitation silently.
Speaking of levitation, there was something that I could do with that spell that no one else could: I could put my wand away, forcefully pronounce the spell, and have a quill, scroll, or other light object dance around the room for a bit. It took a great deal of effort to do, and controlling anything with real weight to it was beyond me at the moment, but it was the defining display of my power as far as Draco was concerned.
The November Quidditch match against Hufflepuff was the next disturbing event of the year. The game was going brilliantly and we had a commanding lead. Cedric was giving Cho a run for her money, but the rest of Hufflepuff's team was lackluster and our Chaser line dominated the play.
My greatest asset was a very accurate arm on back- and side-passes, so the most successful of our plays was when we set up Bradley to rush a goal hoop with the Quaffle to draw the Hufflepuff Keeper to the side. Bradley would then telegraph a long pass to me that the Keeper could follow, and I'd drop it behind me to Roger as I made my rush to a side hoop, while Roger would rush the center hoop. The Keeper would already have turned around and be racing in my direction, and couldn't correct fast enough to stop Roger from scoring. We must've used that play five times.
I was in the process of setting Roger up for a shot when by broom bucked violently. I whipped the Quaffle to Davies and grabbed my wand, casting a spell to reveal the broom's enchantments. I recoiled in horror to see that my broom, which normally had a neutral whitish aura, with a few color spots that correspond to the various layered charms, now had a pulsing, pure black aura that just felt evil.
My lapse in attention nearly cost me my life, as the broom shook and bucked wildly again, throwing me off. I caught the shaft with the fingertips of my hands, and was now hanging precariously nearly eighty feet off the ground with my wand falling to the pitch somewhere below me. I focused on nothing else but getting a two-handed grip on the broom again; just as I secured my hold on the broomstick, I looked ahead and watched helplessly as a Bludger sailed directly at me and slammed into my stomach, tearing me away from my broom.
My magic took the edge off the impact, but Bludgers are 5 pound balls of solid iron that move as fast as eighty miles per hour. Internal bleeding was the least of the possible injuries; I had been lucky I didn't take that in the ribs. The flying charm on the Bludger died immediately after it hit me, and I began to fall. I could hear screams above the rushing wind, but I was far more concerned with the fast-approaching ground. With my wand on the ground and my broom dancing wildly above me, I had only one trick left. Spreading my arms and legs to increase drag, I pushed on my magic with all my might, shouting "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" and praying I could at least slow my skinny arse down a bit.
I nearly blacked out from the drain, but I felt my speed decrease. I was still falling, but I had enough time to put my arms and legs under me and the impact was painful but not truly damaging. It was a good thing too, because the sharp pains in my gut were more than enough distraction.
"Do you wish to continue playing?" a deep, firm voice asked from behind me. I forced myself to stand shakily, and turned to see Professor Dumbledore standing with wand ready, looking at me with concern. I didn't know how I could possibly continue with no broom, barely any magic left, and a severe injury. Still, my pride forced me to nod.
With a flick of his wand, my renegade broom and wand soared over to where we stood. Another quick wave and my stomach pains stopped completely. Dumbledore then looked at the broom, which was still bucking and dancing a few feet above the ground. He revealed the charms again, and saw the black aura. Dumbledore muttered something and pointed his wand at the broom; with a flash of white light, the broom looked and acted normal again. Then he looked at me, and said "Whenever you're ready, Harry."
Ravenclaw's cheers were thunderous as I remounted my broom and took off. I was completely drained and absolutely useless for the rest of the game, but the damage to Hufflepuff had been done already, and Cho hammered it home by catching the Snitch after only ten more minutes of play.
Hermione launched herself at me after the game hugging me with one hand and pounding on my chest with the other. "HARRY! What were you doing I almost saw you fall, a-and then you got hit with a Bludger and then you fell and I was so scared but you slowed down and you were okay but WHY did you go up again, you could have-have-have..." she trailed off and buried herself in my chest, unabashedly sobbing.
Roger was a good man; he had the team crowd around me so that no one could see Hermione's reaction. If there's one thing that I would always remember Roger for, it's that he knew when something was just too personal to be public.
The last few months had started the rumor mill, but this latest event made very public some of my capabilities. When I first came to Hogwarts, I was extremely good at my classes, and quickly became a top student. That was noteworthy, but it's not like people like Hermione weren't up there with me, so it wasn't an earth-shattering event.
Then, rumors abounded that I had taken out the Troll in order to save Hermione. Out of the four people that were present, none of us could refute the rumor. Snape could have but didn't, which meant he wanted his involvement to be kept quiet; McGonagall was silent, mirroring Snape's stance. Hermione wasn't willing to contradict the idea that I'd saved her, because I did. I, of course, was the focus of the rumors, so anything I said wouldn't really be considered unless I drew attention to Snape or McGonagall, which they obviously didn't want.
The Ravenclaw girls considered my rescue a somewhat romantic event, and people treated Hermione and me as a couple in the making. With the romantic version of events keeping the rumors entrenched in girl-talk, and the professors suppressing any mention of the Troll other than to say it was dealt with, this story didn't make any real public waves either. After all, it was just some girls' silly fantasy about me, right?
My argument with Ron over Hermione followed by Ron breaking his hand on my face in front of hundreds of witnesses told a different story. Not only might the rumors of my taking on the Troll be true, but there was now undisputed evidence that I was not your average student. The Weasley twins could be heard stating to anyone who would listen how shocked they were, and that no one had ever taken a Weasley in a scrap.
The Quidditch match was the icing on the cake: Hundreds of students and parents watched while I tried to figure out what happened to my broom, get slammed by a high-speed Bludger, wandlessly slow my descent with a levitation spell, and get back up to chat with Professor Dumbledore. That Dumbledore patched me up and cleared my broom didn't matter; that little show coupled with my successful first game as a Chaser galvanized my public image. The press picked up the story, and the Boy-Who-Lived was no longer a legacy title.
-----
Daily Prophet, Nov. 13th, Front page:
Boy Who Lived Wows Fans!
The Hogwarts Quidditch game held this week had a special treat in store for us. Debuting as a Chaser for Ravenclaw, Harry Potter proved to the world that he had his father's Quidditch skill as he and his teammates dominated the game, producing a lopsided score of 210-40 early on.
Apparently someone took exception to that, as Mr. Potter's broom went wildly out of control, and a Bludger went rogue, impacting him directly and knocking him off his broom and sending his wand flying. For any other student, this would have meant a long stay in the Hospital Wing.
For our Mr. Potter, however, it meant wandlessly casting a levitation charm to slow his descent for a rough but manageable landing, where he then stood up and waited for Professor Dumbledore to approach him, seemingly unaffected by the Bludger's hit.
This hasn't been the first time that Mr. Potter has shrugged off damage this year. An earlier altercation with a Gryffindor student, Ronald Weasley, ended when Mr. Weasley attempted to punch Mr. Potter and broke his hand on Mr. Potter's jaw.
"Mr. Potter's strength with magic is a well-known attribute to the school as a whole," said Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. "While I certainly do not condone the fighting or interference in Quidditch matches, I am relieved that Mr. Potter has been able to keep himself from undue harm." The professors are currently conducting an investigation to determine the culprit who hexed Mr. Potter's broom and what affected the Bludger.
The Headmaster was unable to confirm rumors that Mr. Potter had personally dispatched a Mountain Troll earlier in the year, but several students confirm Mr. Potter's participation in the fight.
We also cannot forget Mr. Potter's most impressive victory: His defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as a small child. It's apparent that we haven't seen the end of Mr. Potter's accomplishments, not the least of which will be some amazing Quidditch games.
-----
I needed that article like I needed my feet removed. The last thing that I wanted was the public aware of everything I've done, but the press latched on to me like a bloated leech, and I'd never be free of it again. There was a large picture of me getting plowed by the Bludger, then visibly slowing my descent to the ground. The picture kept going until Dumbledore got me back up into the air, and then repeated rather seamlessly.
Hermione's reaction was to purchase a subscription to the Daily Prophet so that she could keep track of the articles. "It's always good to know what they're printing," she told me. "It's something you have to keep on top of."
Draco was very supportive of the articles. "It's exactly the kind of exposure you want!" he said excitedly. "It makes you so much bigger than you actually are, and Father says that's good for you when school finishes and the Ministry's interested in you!" Way to run on a sentence, Draco. Still, I could understand the point even if I didn't have the words at the time: My 'political capital' just went up in a major way, and Mr. Malfoy, who was associated with me, could only benefit from the change.
This manifested as Draco spending more time with me publicly rather than us cloistering ourselves in the library, showing the entire school body --and thus the community by word of mouth-- that the Malfoys and Potters were allied. Draco was a good friend, though. He was initially very opposed to Hermione, but he bent for me. He would still complain about muggles and muggleborn around her, but he phrased it in the form of "Why can't they all be like you?" so that Hermione was implicitly excluded from his tirades.
Pansy was completely unfazed by the articles. Pansy had two personality settings: Interested and Uninterested. I was already considered "interesting" to Pansy, so I bypassed the sarcastic barbs and insults and went straight to the high-energy party girl/tomboy combination that made Pansy unique. Her only reaction to this was to comment endlessly on how complicated it was to mess with brooms and Bludgers, and how no Hufflepuff student could possibly have done it.
Now, if I had been listening at the time...
Hermione, Draco, Pansy and all the Weasleys were going home for Christmas holidays. I certainly didn't want to see the Dursleys, so I chose to stay here; even the boredom of an empty castle was better than my so-called 'home.' Everyone promised to write, and I saw them off at the station before walking back with Hagrid. I stopped at his hut for tea, and passed the rest of the day talking about Hogwarts and my parents. It was a good start to the two weeks.
I really enjoyed hearing stories of my parents. Hagrid had quite a few, but he assured me that Professor Dumbledore was a close friend of my parents, and would know even more. Convinced by Hagrid, I sought out Professor Dumbledore during dinner to ask if he had time to talk.
"Of course I do," he replied. "What can I help you with, Harry?"
"I'd like to know… if you have time to talk about my parents, Professor. I-I want to know more about them," I said, trying to hold my emotions in check.
"Certainly," he said, standing up. "Let's take a walk." He led me out of the Hall, and we started down a castle corridor.
The silence was tremendous, and then my walls started to crack. "I hate the Dursleys," I blurted. I was surprised that I said that, but it was as good a place as any to start, so I kept going. "They may be related to me, but they treat me horribly. Did you know that I had to earn my own living for years before I came to Hogwarts? Bought my own food, clothes..."
"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said, his voice heavy with sadness. "Yes, I know all about your childhood. I know because... Because I was the one who left you with the Dursleys."
What?!
"What?!"
"I took you there with the hope that they were as compassionate and loving as your mother. I left you there because there wasn't any better place to take you. Will you let me explain, Harry?" I could only nod, too stunned that the man in front of me could be responsible for my childhood. "Come, then; let's go to my office, so we can sit down." Dumbledore led me to a stone gargoyle statue that promptly jumped aside as the Headmaster approached. We walked up a spiral staircase and into an enormous office with dozens of portraits on the walls. The portraits all said some sort of greeting to Professor Dumbledore, and a few of the nicer ones greeted me, too.
Dumbledore motioned me into a chair in front of his desk, and walked over to a cabinet to produce a glass and a bottle of Firewhiskey, as well as a bottle of Butterbeer. He handed the Butterbeer to me, and poured himself a glass of whiskey, downing it on one gulp. I carefully sipped at the Butterbeer, wondering how bad this conversation could be.
"Ten long years ago," he began, "your parents were murdered by Voldemort. It was a failure on my part, as we had a spy in our midst, and I was too slow in catching him. As Hagrid has told you, he found you in your house and brought you to me. I learned quickly that your mother sacrificed herself for you; she gave her life freely so that you might live on. That sacrifice protected you from Voldemort, and caused his curse to backfire, destroying his body instead. The event marked you with a scar and, I imagine, other things as well."
"My power, right?" I said, rubbing my scar. "That's why I'm so much stronger than everybody else -- wait, Voldemort's not dead?"
"No, Harry, I'm afraid he's not."
"Shit." Oops. "Sorry, Professor," I mumbled, covering my mouth.
"It's alright," he chuckled, waving it off. "When it comes to Voldemort, 'shit' is the lightest word I expect anyone to use.
"As to your power," he continued, "I daresay that most adults have the power that you possess; quite a few are stronger. But you easily have the power level that I would expect from, say, your average forty or fifty-year-old wizard; far more than any child should have."
"Wow."
"Indeed, it was one of the reasons that I chose to place you with the Dursleys. I wanted you out of the wizarding world, where you might grow up without being hassled for your inadvertent defeat of Voldemort, and where people would not quickly notice that it had affected you. I hardly wanted you poked and prodded as some experiment by Ministry researchers, trying to figure out why you were so gifted. You'll notice that the press was quick to jump on your abilities."
"Yeah, I'd noticed. Would they have been like that all my life?" Horrible thoughts were going through my mind about what it would have been like with my face in the papers for ten years.
"If they had gotten wind of your power, certainly. Had you been in the magical community, I guarantee that it would have happened. Worse, the Ministry would likely have had their Unspeakables run an endless series of tests on you. I doubt that any family who would have taken you would have had the nerve or resources to turn away the Ministry, so this, too, would have been unavoidable. Thankfully, the Statute of Secrecy prohibits the muggle-raised from being approached before their eleventh birthday."
"Alright, I can see that that would have sucked. What's stopping them from doing it now?"
"Certain privacy by-laws of being enrolled in a magical school that I helped write and pass ten years ago, and that I intend to enforce now," he replied with a wry smirk. Despite the topic, I couldn't help but grin; I could see that the Weasley twins' pranks and Ron's chess game paled in comparison to the games the man in front of me was capable of playing.
"The other reason was more practical: Voldemort's Death Eaters were still about. While they still existed and fought in their master's name, I could not have you exposed; you would have been targeted for certain. Your mother's sacrifice, however, gave me a method to protect you that neither Voldemort nor his followers could possibly breach. I wove a charm of Old Magic around you, focused on your mother's love and sacrifice. So long as you live where your mother's blood dwells, no harm can befall you that would violate your mother's sacrifice."
"So... Voldemort can't touch me at the Dursleys because of my mother...?"
"That's right, Harry. The Dursleys turned out to be very cruel, and I apologize for that, but it took eight years before the last of the active Death Eaters were found and brought to justice. More still exist; they either wormed their way out of a trial, or simply went into hiding. For at least eight years, though, that protection was absolutely necessary."
"And by that time, I was basically on my own, taking care of myself," I said bitterly. "You still could have come for me then. It's not like I enjoyed working my entire childhood."
I know, my boy, I should have. But my worries about the Ministry are well-founded, and I had no legal means of protecting you in the magical community until you began to attend Hogwarts. Once you turned eleven, you were under the mantle of Hogwarts and I immediately sent Hagrid to get you ready for school. I'd have come myself, but I imagined that Hagrid would have a rather profound effect on the Dursleys for obvious reasons."
We shared a laugh at that before Dumbledore became serious again. "To be entirely honest with you, you were doing a very good job of looking after yourself. You did so with a maturity and common sense that belies your age, and you were, in my opinion, just and fair with your use of magic against the Dursleys. I was very proud of you."
"Oh. Well… thanks." What do you say to that? I was proud of how I took care of myself. Hearing it from someone else felt good, even if that someone made it necessary in the first place. Speaking of that... "Sir, how does my mother's protection work?"
"There are two degrees to the protection that you receive from the Dursleys," Dumbledore explained. "The first degree is the most obvious part: No one associated or allied with Voldemort, no matter how many degrees of obfuscation or separation, can set foot on or near to #4 Privet Drive. The second degree is less secure, but works well nonetheless: You and each of the Dursleys carry a small part of that protection with you, so that any efforts that Voldemort or his servants take to locate you will fail. Unlike the first degree, you are quite vulnerable once you have been located; they still have to find you, however. This second degree is why I am not averse to your traveling around. Unless and until Voldemort returns or the Death Eaters themselves form back into an organized group, my opinion will not change. The point of the protection is to give you relative anonymity with regards to Voldemort, and a bolt-hole that you can escape to should he go on the warpath. So long as you spend at least 21 consecutive days living there per year, the enchantment will hold.
"That means that if you wish, you only need to sleep under that roof for 21 nights, Harry, and then do as you will for the summer.
"The agreement your Aunt and I made is binding only until you reach the age of 17, or are considered an adult in wizarding society. If you wish the protection to last longer, you would have to reach a personal agreement with your Aunt to remain a resident of the house, and you would still need to spend the 21 consecutive days per year living there. The charm, by the way, is specific to you, not your Aunt. Should you and your Aunt change your place of residence, the first degree of protection will transfer after 21 days in the new residence. Until then, the second degree still holds. Should you find a new blood relation to your mother and reach a living arrangement with them, 21 consecutive days will transfer the charm to include you, them, and the other residents of the home, and exclude the Dursleys.
"Now, your Aunt is your only remaining relative on your mother's side that I know of. However, should you one day have children, you could instantly transfer the charm to work between you and your child within 21 days of their birth, thus protecting your new family."
"My... family? So, this protection will work in the future, too?"
"Yes, Harry. If you keep this charm alive, Voldemort will never touch you or your family."
"Th-Thank you," I managed. I swear to you, I could have kissed Dumbledore right then; he really was a magical genius. I had ongoing, permanent protection from Voldemort, anyone who's associated with Voldemort, and anyone who takes up his flag in the future. My future family would be safe even if Voldemort or someone allied to him became a permanent pain in the backside. That was worth the Dursleys; even at 11 years old, I understood that the future was a hell of a lot longer than the past, and that made this a good deal.
Finding some degree of closure to my childhood with the Dursleys, I decided to take advantage of the fact that there was an amazingly knowledgeable person in front of me. "Sir, since we're here, I have a couple of questions about magic..."
Dumbledore just smiled, and we sat in his office talking until dawn. I'm not going to fill you in on everything he said, but I learned so much in the span of a couple of hours with him, that I wished he taught all the classes at Hogwarts. I'll pass on a few highlights, though.
Dumbledore on skill and power:
"Your reference to 'skill' and 'power' are a little too simplified, Harry. Let's look at wand motions. To use what you've told me, it takes a certain degree of skill to cast the first-year flame hex, Incendio, silently." With a brisk wave of his wand, Dumbledore conjured a candle. He then waved his wand in the proper motions for the flame hex, and the candle lit.
"This isn't the end to your wand work, however; Watch." Dumbledore blew the candle out, and with barely a wave of his wand the candle lit again.
"You didn't use the wand movements...?" I said with confusion laced in my voice.
"Of course I did," he said. "Your wand needs to go through the motions. You don't have to do them all together while your wand is in front of you, and they needn't be more than the slightest movement if your motions are accurate." He finished off by effortlessly lighting the candle again with no apparent wand movement other than his raising the wand towards the candle.
It took him a while to explain this part to me, so let me explain it in first-year terms: As long as the motions are accurate, you can do them while you're raising the wand rather than already having it pointed at your target, and the motions can be the tiniest little twitches as long they're the correct shape. Good for stealth casting during a duel and for showing off your skill so that no one ever challenges you to one.
"However," he continued, "That sleight-of-hand is as far as skill alone will take you with that hex; the rest is power. You see, there's Incendio..." a slight wave of Dumbledore's wand again produced the small puff of flame near the tip, lighting the candle.
"... and then there's Incendio." Dumbledore flicked his wand away from us, and white-hot flames burst from his wand in a constant stream, instantly covering thirty feet to lick angrily against the stone wall. I nearly fainted from the overwhelming heat radiating from the flames, and when he let up the hex, the entire section of wall was an angry red patch of stone with molten rock dripping and pooling on the floor.
I stared at the destroyed wall open-mouthed, and then I looked back at Dumbledore, who twirled his wand between his fingers with twinkling eyes and that cocky smirk. "And that, Harry, is why power is important, even for a first-year hex."
Dumbledore on Severus Snape:
"I understand that Professor Snape dislikes you, but Madam Pomfrey's been quite happy with your work. Professor Snape can and has been to #4 Privet Drive."
"So, he's good, then," I said, following the logic of my mother's protection.
"He's an ally," Dumbledore said, correcting me. "You don't have to like him, and he certainly isn't 'good,' but you should know that his intentions are not malicious."
"All the same, is there any way I can just test out of Potions completely, and work for Madam Pomfrey directly?"
All I got for a response was Dumbledore's heartfelt laughter.
Dumbledore on the Troll:
"...and here, you are presented with the first indicator of your limits: Despite your magical strength, the spells you used against the Troll failed to affect it. It would probably take someone closer to my level of ability to use a Body Bind on a Troll. This is where Transfiguration will aid you more than charms and hexes. If you can control your surroundings, you can control a battle. Enchanting the chamber pots to attack the Troll would have distracted it, and animating one of the washbasins to push Miss Granger out of the way would have accomplished your task wonderfully. If you wished to show off a bit, then you could have transfigured the lavatory door into a continuation of the stone wall, and you would have trapped the Troll in there neatly.
"The moral of the story, I suppose, is to not use magic directly against a foe whose weaknesses you are not certain of."
"I guess," I said, still stuck on the notion that you attacked enemies directly. "What about Professor Snape? He took the Troll down with one spell."
"Yes he did, and I recall yelling at him for that." The twinkling power in Dumbledore's eyes turned into a hard sheen, and I could taste his power in the air. "I do not condone the use of Dark Arts in this school, especially by professors.
"What I want you to realize, Harry, is that Professor Snape was perfectly capable of incapacitating that Troll using non-lethal spells. It likely would still have been only one or two spells at most. Despite this ability, Professor Snape chose to kill. I would hope that you would choose to show more compassion; a problem dead is not necessarily a problem solved."
In the face of an angry Dumbledore, all you ever, ever want to do is smile, nod, and hope you don't wet yourself. I quickly changed the topic.
Dumbledore on Hermione:
"...smart girl, very dedicated to her studies; yet I sense something very wrong with her outlook. She's hiding something, I think; something that's causing her a great deal of pain."
"I've noticed, too," I said, "but I have no idea at all how to help her aside from schoolwork."
"You're doing everything you can, Harry. Just like I let you stand on your own with the Dursleys because you were capable of it, so too must you allow Miss Granger to manage her own life. Catch her if she falls, certainly; but to use muggle terms, you and I want to be safety nets, not harnesses. Do you understand, Harry?"
"I think so," I said, nodding. "Don't meddle, just do... err... damage control, I guess."
Dumbledore smiled at me. "That's exactly right, Harry: Damage control. Meddling takes up far too much of the day, anyways."
Dumbledore on the Malfoys:
"Dear God, I despise that family." Dumbledore's tone and bluntness had me fighting my laughter. I almost held it in, but the sight of the greatest wizard in the world dropping his head into his hands in frustration brought it out of me. Dumbledore just looked up at me from between his fingers and smiled as the room echoed with my mirth.
"I suppose I shouldn't have been so forward about that, but it's good to hear you laugh, Harry.
"My problem with the Malfoys is that Lucius Malfoy was almost certainly one of Voldemort's chosen Death Eaters, but his money and political influence turned away any suspicion. Now I will grant that young Draco Malfoy may be different than his father, but I gather on the whole that the Malfoys will do whatever is in their best interests to do. For now, that seems to be allying with you; should Voldemort return, what then? Can you win over Lucius Malfoy enough that he would honor your alliance over his initial pledge to his master? If not, what of Draco? Would he choose you over his own parents?"
I didn't have answers for Dumbledore at that point --no, wait, I did. I know I did, I just wasn't willing to give up.
Dumbledore on the Weasleys:
After I told him how I met the Weasleys at King's Cross, Dumbledore exploded into raucous peals of laughter at some inside joke and tears were soon streaming down his face. Dumbledore finally managed to choke out "Good luck with Molly, Harry!" before he collapsed into laughter again.
Great...
Dumbledore on the Parkinsons:
"…Another borderline family; not allied with Voldemort to my knowledge, but certainly anti-muggle. They would not be anti-you, though, so you can take that for what you will. Young Miss Parkinson seems quite attached to you, though I've noticed her tendency to avoid young Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger.
"It's a fact of life that your friends will not necessarily all be friends with each other. It will fall to you to balance the disparate groups. It's the secret of throwing the best parties: Know who's interested in what, and make sure that you make the correct introductions between people in your social circle. It's something that both Mrs. Parkinson and Mrs. Malfoy are very skilled at; if you maintain contact with those families I expect that you'll be well-versed in the art yourself."
"Err, Professor... you don't seem to care that I'm associating with the Malfoys and Parkinsons. If they're connected to Voldemort..."
"You're forgetting your mother's protection, Harry. No one can act against you on Voldemort's behalf, even unwittingly, and be able to find you. Use you politically? Certainly, but that's about it. You're very safe with those families right now; if you weren't, their letters and children would not be able to locate you, even if you are simply sitting in the library. Give me some credit, Harry. That charm you're wearing is probably the most complex magic I've ever cast, and I'd like to think I'm good at what I do."
"Meddling?" I said with a smirk on my face.
Dumbledore just returned the smirk and said "Damage control."
Dumbledore on my physical magic and memory:
"I'm not concerned about it, Harry. It's one of the biggest reasons that I never came for you: You could handle your own problems. Internal magic such as your strength and speed boosting cannot be tracked by the Ministry, as there is no external emanation to trip their charms. The same is true for other internal magics such as animagus transformations. The only internal magic that can be detected is Apparition, and then only because you are physically displaced when using it.
"As for you being able to adjust your memory, by all means use it; I wish that every student was so gifted, it would make teaching that much easier."
"I was wondering, Professor: If Voldemort was responsible for my power, could he also do this with his mind?"
"Absolutely," Dumbledore said. "The memory trick you can use is a collateral effect of being versed in Occlumency -- the art of protecting your mind. This art is used to combat the Imperius Curse and similar forms of control or coercion as well as Legilimency, which is the art of looking into another's mind."
"Wow! Is that something that you can teach me?" I tried hard not to do Hermione's trademark bouncing while I asked this. It was exciting to know a bit about what I was doing, but also to know that it was a normal thing. Being advanced was cool in my mind; being an extension of Voldemort was not.
Dumbledore chuckled and patted the air in front of me. "One thing at a time, Harry," he said gently. "You can only learn magic so fast. Get the basics down before we go turning your mind into a puzzle box, alright?"
All too soon for my liking, it was morning.
"Harry, you should get to bed now. It's far past the time for that, actually. You'll be happy to know that Filch is asleep at this time, so you should be unmolested."
I wasn't quite done, though; a couple of nagging questions were left. "Sir, you said that Voldemort was after me specifically. Do you know why?"
He looked away for a moment, and then back to me, frowning a bit. "That little piece of information is a very well-kept secret. I know what it is, but no one else does. I want to share it with you, but only when you're older, and I know that you will be able to keep it secret no matter what."
"What can I do to be ready if he comes back?" Because he would, if he's the evil psychopath I've learned about.
"What you're doing now to develop your skill is excellent. I will provide some books and instruction as I can, but like I've mentioned, your magic will progress only so quickly. You're a remarkable young wizard with your ability to grasp your magic like you have, and put it to use. Keep learning and practicing and you'll be fine."
With that we said goodnight, and I headed back to my tower. I spent he entire holiday talking on and off with Professor Dumbledore. I was well over his placing me at the Dursleys; after the initial shock, I realized he was right: I liked the fact that he trusted me to take care of myself, and would only interfere if I had really needed it. He had three major roles to play in his life: The General, the Politician, and the Headmaster. He had dealt with me as the General, and it worked out well enough.
I was quick to take advantage of my one-on-one time with the Headmaster. My wand technique improved by leaps and bounds with Dumbledore's direct instruction. He simply had me start with the normal amount of pushing I did on a spell, and make the wand movements smaller and smaller. Then, he'd have me doing the motions before the wand was raised, so that they were less obvious. Finally, he had me "shoot from the hip," doing the movements while my wand stayed down by my side and out of sight for the most part. Once I had the wand motions down and could cast without actually looking at the wand, he had me slowly decrease the power I used for the spell, making up the difference with wand movements.
For the muggle-savvy out there, it's kind of like learning how to type: There are a few dozen standard movements, and you need to be able to "type without looking at the keyboard" in order to be any good at it; it's your hands that need to remember where to be, not your eyes. Once you can type like that, the rest is practice for speed and accuracy. To compare, you need the equivalent of about 50 words per minute in order to do a spell without pushing more power into it. You'd need 80 words per minute to minimize the movements like Professor Dumbledore does, and 100 words per minute to effectively cast silently. If you can do 130 words per minute, you can begin to cast silently and unobtrusively like Professor Dumbledore, though Dumbledore himself probably rates at 180 or 200.
I started Hogwarts at about 25 wpm; horribly below par, but with more than enough power to make up the difference. Hermione and Draco (who were about 70 wpm themselves) had gotten me to around 45 wpm before Christmas, and Professor Dumbledore coaxed me to about 65 wpm over the two weeks. There was such a feeling of freedom to not have to push to cast a spell anymore. I still had a ton of work to do to consistently cast silent spells, but I could cast vocally and generate even stronger effects, since I wasn't wasting power on the activation.
Christmas shopping was an interesting problem for a first year stuck at the castle. I had several people that I wanted to get something for: Hagrid and Dumbledore, because they were damned cool; Hedwig, for being such a great owl; I wanted to find something for Pansy and Draco, and Hermione especially needed something good. After mulling over it, I decided to get Ron something for Christmas. If he came around and apologized, it would be a good gesture on my part. If he didn't, I was out a few sickles; so what?
With this list in mind, I caught up with Professor Flitwick on the second day. "Professor, I'm looking to get Christmas gifts for a few friends of mine, as well as something for the professors for helping me this year. Is there anyway that I could do that before Christmas Eve?"
He pulled his short beard as he spoke, seemingly deep in thought. "Mr. Potter, you cannot leave the castle. Only third-years and up have access to Hogsmeade, and even then only on appointed days. Those completed their OWLs, of course, can leave when they choose. Still, you've been an exemplary student...
"All right, if you tell me what you'd like to get for everyone, I'll make a trip for you."
I'm sure my smile was broader than my face at that moment. "That'd be brilliant, Professor! I'm sure you know Hagrid and Professor Dumbledore better than I do, so I trust what you get, and I'll sign the cards. Ron likes the Chudley Cannons and sweets, Hermione loves her books, and I think that she's into Arithmancy already. Pansy enjoys items with complicated charms on them, and Draco is looking for Quidditch gear. I can send these over the holidays with Hedwig. Some owl treats for Hedwig would be a nice touch for her."
For all my expectations of a boring holiday, things were certainly looking good for me. The biggest shocker came when Professor Snape walked up to me during breakfast the next day.
"Potter, if I gave you the first, second, third and fourth year tests for Potions, could you pass them?" The question sounded ridiculous, but Snape said it with the same tone of seriousness that he conducted his classes.
"Err, yes, I think so," I replied hesitantly. I wasn't sure where this was going, but the truth was probably the best bet.
"What about History of Magic, Muggle Studies, and Astronomy. Could you do those?"
"Yes, it'd take a few days to get ready for all that, though." A couple weeks if I wanted to get better than scraping A's, but I wasn't going to say that out loud.
"What about advanced theory? Arithmancy, Herbology, Divination, Creatures and Runes?"
"Hell, no!" I blurted before I could stop myself. I immediately blushed and mumbled "Sorry, professor" while Snape smirked at me.
"1 point for language, Potter, and Happy Christmas." The other professors sniggered while I tried to keep a straight face.
"Uh… thank you, sir," I managed, ignoring the incredibly loud snort from Hagrid.
"Getting back on topic, you're beyond your classmates in your studies and you know it. You may not have the advanced courses under your wing, but I gather that by the end of next year you would, wouldn't you?"
I nodded; Arithmancy and Runes were much more involved than most other theory courses, but it was all still theory to me: I'd memorize the books, and then work through the assignments until I was decent with the material. Being able to bring up the textbook in my head made most exams kind of pointless.
"Good. I'm approaching you because of your question to Headmaster Dumbledore. The professors all agree that your participation in classes will skew the point system overly in favor of Ravenclaw, as it is improper to have you in class and ignore your accomplishments. It is far better for us if you weren't in the class to begin with. It will also make your school life much easier if you simply tested through to fourth year on every theory course you can.
"The practical classes are a little more involved, as you are aware, so you will test through these only with the permission of the relevant Professors and Headmaster Dumbledore."
"I take it that the Ministry won't allow early OWLs?" I said, catching on to the fourth-year limit.
"Exactly. Something about children playing at being adults and winding up in Azkaban." The look on Snape's face made it clear that the thought of children in Azkaban was extremely amusing to him. I told myself repeatedly that I wasn't like Snape just because I thought the idea was funny, too.
My entire holiday passed in a flurry of amazing talks with Professor Dumbledore and the persistent migraine that came with memorizing several textbooks worth of information and running it constantly through my head to sort the information. Remember how I told you that I hated reading?
Yeah, that. Bet you you've never sat 16 exams in two days, have you? I crashed for 48 hours afterwards.
The letters I sent and received over the holidays cover the rest of the highlights:
-----
Dear Hermione,
Happy Christmas! I hope that you enjoy the gift; I know that you're interested in Arithmancy, and since you're so far ahead, I figured that you'd enjoy something on Arithmancy that Hogwarts wasn't likely to teach. I have some interesting news on that topic: Professor Dumbledore is letting me take the first FOUR YEARS worth of tests for Muggle Studies, History of Magic, Astronomy and Potions! Snape came up and told me that I should just test out of the courses and stop wasting my time and his. He's such a nice man, isn't he?
I've already read all the Potions books, and you and I have made a fair number of the potions. I know I'll be fine for Muggle Studies; that course is so stupid! History will take me about three days to read up on and memorize. It's a lot of information, but I can write a persuasive paper as well as anyone, and I'll have the books in my head. It's Astronomy that I'm worried about. I'll need some time to get my head around the Calculus, and no amount of memorizing is going to help. I'm going to try to finish these tests before the end of the holidays, and I hopefully won't do too badly. I don't care about my marks, really; only that I pass. It's the OWLs that really matter and I have to wait to do those.
I got to talk to Professor Dumbledore about my parents, and even learn a trick or two about magic from him. I'll show you all of it when you get back.
See you soon!
Harry
-----
Dear Draco,
Happy Christmas! Hope you enjoy the gear, and say hello to your parents for me. Lots of news to tell you when you come back to Hogwarts.
Have a good holiday!
Harry
-----
Dear Pansy,
Happy Christmas! I got you something to dissect, so I hope you have fun. Lots to share once you get back to school. I promise you'll be "interested."
See you in the New Year!
Harry
-----
Dear Hagrid,
I had to get something for my first real friend. I hope you have a great Christmas!
See you at dinner!
Harry
-----
Dear Professor Dumbledore,
I can't begin to thank you for what you've done and are doing for me. I hope that we'll still be able to talk when school starts again. I always look forward to it. Hope you enjoy the gift.
Happy Christmas!
Harry
-----
Ron,
You can be a real git, but I still hope you have a good Christmas. Say hi to your family for me.
Harry
=====
Dear Harry,
So this is Hedwig; I'm so in love with her, she's so soft!
I love the book, but you get to test out of four courses before Christmas? For the next four years?? I can't tell you how jealous I am, Harry. Please, please work with me to figure out how you affect your memory. I want so badly to do well, and it would be such a relief to have half of the courses done with.
Calculus is easy once you start on it; it's only the beginning that's hard. I know you'll do well.
I can't wait to see what Professor Dumbledore showed you. He's absolutely amazing.
Hedwig is returning with my gift for you. I hope you like it.
Have a Happy Christmas, Harry.
Love, from
Hermione
-----
Dear Harry,
The gear is awesome! I hope you're ready for some competition in next year's Quidditch season!
Mother had some sweets made just for you; I think that she's sending a book to you, too. If you don't like it, let me know, and I'll get you a Christmas present that you really like!
My parents say hi!
See you soon,
Draco
-----
Dear Harry,
I love your owl; can I keep her?
I'll have this thing in pieces and improved once I get back to school. Hope your news is as good as you say. With the way you dash off your essays, I figured a quill that corrected your spelling and grammar would do you good; maybe it'll keep Hermione off your back.
My parents say hi, and are glad to hear from you. They're hoping to see you this summer. You can work something out, right?
Happy Christmas, and see you at school.
Pansy
-----
Dear Harry,
Thank you for your gift and your sentiments. My office is always open to you, and my drink of choice will allow you passage. Kindly burn this letter after you are finished with it.
I hope that you enjoy your gift as well. It isn't so much a gift as it is my returning something that belonged to your father. Use it well, and kindly remember that it doesn't work on me.
Have a Happy Christmas.
Your servant,
Albus Dumbledore
-----
Harry,
I'm sorry.
I'm a git and I know it; I just put my foot in my mouth, and then your jaw broke my hand. Ginny's never going to let me live that down, you know.
I'm going to write Hermione to say that I'm sorry, too. I know I have a temper. Mum keeps telling me. I didn't want to say most of what I did. I didn't mean to start it at all. I guess you know all that, though.
I miss playing Chess, hanging out, and being happy. Hope we can pick up again when I get back to school.
Fred, George, and Mum say hi and Happy Christmas. I think Mum's sending you a sweater.
See you soon, and enjoy the candies.
Ron
=====
Dear Professor Dumbledore,
Thank you! I can't thank you enough for this. To have something of my father's is amazing on its own. I'll be careful with it, and I won't disappoint you.
I wanted to ask you if you could give me some pointers on Occlumency. Hermione's asking about testing early, and I want to give her as much help as I can. If I can figure out this memory thing, maybe I can teach her, and you'd let her test out of classes early too?
Any help you can give is great!
Thanks!
Harry
-----
Ron,
You're forgiven. See you at school. Thank your mum for the sweater.
Harry
=====
Dear Harry,
I suppose I should have expected this. Hedwig will be carrying a book on Occlumency for you. It's not nearly complete on its own, but it should cover enough to help Ms. Granger with her memory if she is diligent. That book is restricted material; do not leave it lying around, and keep it wrapped in your cloak if you must carry it outside of your respective dorm rooms. I will allow her, and only her, to test for the same courses that you do, assuming she is successful with her attempt at Occlumency. She can take her theory tests during Easter break. Perhaps by then you will have some other courses to test for, as well?
I advise against testing for Transfiguration, Charms and Defense. There is no point pushing yourself that far ahead; not only would it result in a dangerously incomplete understanding of the material, but I will already be hard-pressed to occupy your time next year. Once you test out of all the theory courses, we will focus on your practical skills. While we can obviously lay some groundwork, you can't officially start on NEWT material until you've completed your OWLs, so hold any such ambitions in check. My leeway with students only extends so far.
I must remind you strongly that Ms. Granger is not your equal, Harry. She is a marvelous student, but she does not have the excess power that you do. You will benefit from unconventional practical tutoring; she will not.
You both have four and a half years until you sit your OWL exams; try to relax a little.
Your servant,
Albus Dumbledore
-----
Dear Hermione,
To avoid reciting everything, I've attached Professor Dumbledore's letter. Please destroy it afterwards. I've read the book, and it's really good, but this will probably take a lot of time. You might have to test next year if this takes too long, but we'll give it our best shot.
Yours,
Harry
=====
Dear Harry,
This is wonderful news! Thank you thank you THANK YOU! I can't wait to get started on this book. Could you send it to me with Hedwig once you're done with it? I'd imagine that you've memorized it by now.
I'm so happy!
Love, from
Hermione
P.S. Ron apologized. Are you okay with this? -HG
=====
Dear Hermione,
Yes, I've memorized it. Yes, you can read it. Hedwig must enjoy the workout she's been getting. Good luck, and see you in school in a few days. With any luck, I'll be done four courses by then.
Yes, Ron apologized. We'll play it as it goes when classes start.
Yours,
Harry
=====
Dear Harry,
I am pleased to inform you that you scored as follows on all your tests:
~First Year
Astronomy O
History O
Muggle O
Potions O
~Second Year
Astronomy E
History E+
Muggle O
Potions E+
~Third Year
Astronomy E-
History E-
Muggle E+
Potions E
~Fourth Year
Astronomy A
History A
Muggle E
Potions E-
You began to slip predictably as the material became more complex, and your lack of experience with higher-grade papers impacted your History of Magic and Muggle Studies marks. However, if you consider that you have four and a half years to solidify this material and learn one more year's worth for each course, you are in a wonderful position to master the OWL exams. Since you have the necessary resources, you should begin to study for Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, Divination, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes. I am willing to allow you to test for those during Easter break, or in June if you find that you need the time. The professors for those courses will be available for consultation if you give me some notice. Use your new free time well, and I wish you the best of luck on your studies.
Your servant,
Albus Dumbledore