The first meeting of the Knights took place on a Wednesday. After much deliberation, Harry decided to split the Knights into two batches. His tight schedule because of the NEWT level classes had thrown a wrench into his normal schedule. The NEWT level Arithmancy had more hours, and Astronomy classes were far more regular than they used to be.
In comparison, Transfiguration and Charms took on a more practical side, which was fun. That didn't mean the theory work was removed entirely from the curriculum. The long essays on viridis transfiguration McGonagall assigned them as homework remained unfinished on his desk. However, much of that theory work was less important because the NEWTs focused on practical tests. Unlike the OWL tests, NEWT practical tests for select subjects had more marks than theory.
The best way he could schedule the meeting was by taking Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs on Saturday and Ravenclaws and Slytherins on Sunday. It was the best way to circumvent a lot of other club activities and quidditch practice sessions. Not everyone was happy keeping the Knights' meeting on Saturdays and Sundays, especially the quidditch team hopefuls. Some were afraid their chances of getting into their teams would be affected.
But since it was not compulsory to attend all meetings, he let them decide whether flying around on a broom or staying alive was their priority. Each day, more and more attacks were being reported in the Prophet, with the Aurors retaliating with deadly force. There were casualties on both sides, with Madam Bones gaining a slight edge by fielding foreign hot wizards to strike at Death Eaters.
"Don't always use the shield to block spells. Try to move around," Harry advised as he repeatedly fired the knockback jinx at Susan, Neville, and Seamus.
In their first meetings, he opted to teach his Knights more about battlefield awareness than any spells. In his opinion, the three sixth-years were performing well. However, only Seamus seemed intent on firing back a few spells while on the move. The other two were completely on the defensive.
Harry continued to fire back as he deflected or dodged some of the spells coming his way. Most of Seamus' spells were wide off from their mark and splashed harmlessly against the barrier he had erected. A stunning charm Seamus used against him was repelled back and clipped Susan's shoulder. She fell unconscious, and Neville's immediate response was to help his fallen friend, which made Harry stun Neville before his attention focused on Seamus. However, his dormmate was out of breath from all the running and dodging.
"Avis. Opugno."
A flock of birds appeared around Harry, and they shot straight towards Seamus, who dived to the ground. Harry was disappointed to see that, as he instantly transformed the birds into ropes and tightly wound Seamus' legs together.
When Seamus tried to cut off the ropes binding him, Harry easily disarmed him.
"Seamus, well done. You'll need to increase the accuracy of your spells and build up more physical endurance. I can help you improve your accuracy, but you'll have to deal with the latter on your own."
Seamus showed him a thumbs up. Harry dismissed the bindings and revived Neville and Susan.
"Ow." Susan groaned as Neville accidentally elbowed her ribs as they tried to untangle themselves.
It created a smear of chuckles from everyone watching.
"You two need to think on your feet. Why didn't you try to split up or use any offensive spells against me?"
"You asked us to defend…" Neville said as he helped Susan to her feet.
"Offense is the best defence. I told you to defend yourself from my attack using any means necessary." Harry frowned at the two, "Have you two forgotten all the training of last year?"
Neville and Susan looked properly chastised, making Harry sigh.
'And they wonder why I keep them at arm's length in my plans,' Harry mused, shaking his head.
But he shouldn't be too hard on them either. After all, they performed quite well against the Death Eaters. Sure, they had a lot of advantages in the fight, but a victory was a victory. Still, despite their poor performance, having a mini militia of his own was better than depending entirely on his grandmother's mercenary army, no matter their effectiveness.
"Susan will be the one to attack while you two must defend yourselves. Switch up the roles after every five minutes." Harry said, escorting his three friends to a corner of the room and warding the area to let them practice without bothering anyone else.
He returned to his previous spot and selected another team of three to continue the lesson.
Harry had to admit that he was a tiny bit thankful to Snape. The man was a competent DADA professor who taught useful spells in the DADA classes. This left Harry concentrating on their practical applications and situational awareness amongst his Knights rather than teaching spells. Helping wizards and witches to use what they learned in class to the best result was far easier and less time-consuming than teaching them from scratch.
When that day's meeting concluded, Harry returned to his dorm. Slughorn, McGonagall and Snape had left enough homework to make the weekend less enjoyable. But despite that, Harry found some time to write down the information he extracted from Professor Babbling. Strangely, he found it way too easy to deconstruct the old language, almost as if he already knew it far more intimately than he ought to have. It was like parseltongue all over again. He had somehow acquired an in-depth understanding of Latin to deconstruct the root language, or he had become so proficient in the Mind Arts overnight that a single peek inside the mind was enough to learn a new language almost instinctively.
Harry leaned back against the cushion of the armchair as he pondered the strange changes he had undergone ever since he removed the Horcrux. At first, it was simpler things like the ease of doing magic. Then, it became easy to perform wandless magic. Now, he was almost effortlessly capable of breaking through the occlumency barriers of a fully grown witch like Bathsheda Babbling.
Something was changing within him, and he could feel it in his bones and magic. Of course, he was aware that the Horcrux getting removed was bound to make some changes within his spirit and body, but not to this extent.
'Is it because I have the allegiance of the Elder Wand and possess the Cloak of Invisibility?' Harry mused as he scribbled a few lines of his Potions essay.
He was starting to wonder whether the hare-brained rantings and conspiracy theories mentioned in the scrolls had a grain of truth to them. He knew it was a silly thought, but he was dealing with magic. The realm of logic hardly worked when magic was involved.
So far, whatever was happening to him was making him stronger. At least. He hadn't felt any adverse side effects so far. In times like these, he missed the wise counsel of his wife and Salazar. They'd have thought of some out-of-the-box solution to glean the truth from his magic. While he was an accomplished sensor, he was nowhere near the expertise of Rowena or Salazar.
Thinking about them also brought the unpleasant memories of a son he lost. He had barely gotten enough time to spend with the little tyke because of the constant battles and the expansion of his kingdom's borders. Just thinking about the unfairness of it all made him clench his fist as red-hot anger surged from within his soul. It was almost enough to crack the walls he had built around his mind and his tight leash on the magic coursing through his veins.
Suddenly, his mind reverberated with a foreign voice that vapourised the anger which gave in to confusion.
'I'm meeting Harry Potter. Eeep! I can't wait to look into his beautiful green eyes and kiss those lips, and then his hands will be all over me. Mmmm! If all goes according to plan, Harry will start to love me and escape that Slytherin bint's control from tomorrow. Once the love potion starts working its magic, he'll be mine forever.'
Harry was immensely confused by the girlish sound in his mind spewing nonsense. But that immediately cleared up when he felt the presence of a girl behind the entrance that led to the girls' dorms. He could suddenly hear the girl taking a deep breath as she gathered her courage. Harry stared at the girl as she stepped out of the entrance into the common room carrying a basket and a neatly wrapped scroll with a red ribbon on top. The girl flushed a deep scarlet red as she took each step towards his seat.
"Hi, Harry. I'm Romilda Vane."
"Charmed. How can I help you?" Harry asked, schooling his features expertly to polite indifference.
"Headmaster Dumbledore asked me to give you this." said Romilda, tucking a stray raven hair that fell into her face and offered Harry a scroll tied with a red ribbon.
'The old man is up to his usual tricks.' Harry thought as he accepted the scroll.
"And this is from me." Romilda hurriedly said, offering him a small basket of what appeared to be Chocolate Cauldrons.
"For what?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow at the girl, which made her look like a tomato.
"Oh, you know… for standing up to You-Know-Who. For being a great hero."
"I see." Harry murmured.
He accepted the basket despite the warnings his magic was giving him. There was a type of compulsive magic in those Chocolate Cauldrons. He assumed it was a love potion or even the Firewhisky content inside the chocolate shell. He avoided the contents of the basket for the scroll. It was an invitation for 'special lessons' from Dumbledore. There was also a time and password of the Gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office in the scroll.
So, he quickly said his thanks to Romild Vane and went straight into the boys' dorms.
"Hey, Harry. What's that?" Ron asked, noticing the basket in his hand and a scroll on the other.
"This is a message from Dumbledore." said Harry, shaking the scroll, "And this is a basket full of Chocolate Cauldrons."
Immediately, Ron, Seamus, Neville and Dean perked up.
"Really! Chocolate Cauldrons, say. Did Dumbledore send them?" Ron asked excitedly.
"No. It was a gift given by Romilda Vane." said Harry before an idea quickly struck his mind.
"You want it?" he offered the basket innocently while, in his mind, he was laughing at the easy prank he was pulling.
The good part was he wouldn't even be implicated in the whole mess that was about to happen. So, Harry maintained a poker face as his friends happily munched on the Chocolate Cauldrons. With his dormmates starting to fall in everlasting love with Romilda Vane, he left the Gryffindor Tower to see what was up with Dumbledore.
****
Harry didn't know why he expected anything different from Dumbledore. He had known Dumbledore was inviting him for a movie night with some stupid memories the old man collected about Tom Riffle's past. But he had held out some hope that Dumbledore would give him something else other than the life story of Voldemort and the petty Gaunt family drama. It was like watching a boring documentary, but Harry remained stoic even as a portly Ministry worker named Bob Ogden came to visit the Gaunts.
Dumbledore had welcomed into this trip to his memory lane by spewing a load of crap about knowing your enemy and whatnot.
Harry so wanted to blow a gasket and ask the old man whether throwing the contents of these memories would make Voldemort croak and die. But he held back the indignation at being treated with these reproachful and useless memories that only wasted his time. Instead of raging at Dumbledore, Harry had to remind himself constantly that he had already won over Dumbledore.
Standing so close to Dumbledore, he could feel the vile curse that was in Dumbledore's right hand. The only reason he hadn't gone after the ring horcrux was for this to happen. This was the easiest and effortless way to kill Dumbledore. His inaction was all that was necessary to strike a mortal blow against Dumbledore. The old man barely had a year to live, and that knowledge kept Harry silent while observing the drama unfold before his eyes.
But watching the sorry state of the Gaunt family was revolting. He had seen the sad state of wizarding families of the past in Scotland. But the Gaunts had fallen far lower to the bell bottom. Seeing Slytherin's descendants in such a disparaging status made Harry wince. He also felt a twinge of pity, but he schooled his face so as not to show any of his inner turmoil.
In the end, Harry had to accept that the strong survived and the weak perished. Besides, the Gaunts had most likely se;lf inflicted the current degradation he was seeing, and all that was over at the hands of Voldemort.
He was once again reminded that Voldemort was one of the last embers of the declining House of Slytherin and a descendant of House Peverell. Harry's eyes fell on the Ressurection stone on Marvolo Gaunt's ring finger. That same ring was now with Dumbledore.
Harry could feel the presence of the two Hallows with Dumbledore. The Elder Wand and the Ressurection Stone were with Dumbledore. He could reach out and pluck them away from the old man if he wanted. The Elder Wand already owed its allegiance to him since he disarmed Dumbledore last year. Taking the stone would make him the master of all three Hallows. The temptation was overwhelming, even if he hardly knew what'd happen once he possessed the hallows.
Obviously, the Master of Death story was a fluke, or it was just a silly children's tale. The existence of Perenelle Flamel, Nicholas Flamel and Voldemort was proof enough that death could be staved off without the use of a fancy title granted by the hallows. The few lines he had translated so far with the new language only proved to be a dead end. There were only some vague speculations and nothing concrete. It required more research, in-depth reading, and translation of the scrolls to know more.
Harry was broken out of his musings when the memory shifted and showed Marvolo Gaunt shouting.
"Slytherin's!" Marvolo shouted with glee, puffing his chest as if it were the answer to all the world's mysteries, "We're his last living descendants! What do you have to say about that, eh?"
'Oh, dear Merlin. When will this boring documentary end? This is slowly killing me.' Harry bemoaned in the confines of his mind.
Thankfully, the memory ended with Bob Ogden leaving the Gaunt family house with a firm look on his face that promised nothing good for the deranged maniacs who were the last descendants of Salazar Slytherin. Once Harry and Dumbledore exited the pensieve, they took their respective seats in the office.
"So, what do you think, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.
"I think I'm not surprised why Voldemort turned out as a psychopath. He inherited the madness and callous nature from those people. These Gaunts… they were his relatives, weren't they?"
"You'd be correct, Harry. That was Voldemort's family. Marvolo was his grandfather, Morfin was his uncle, and Merope Gaunt was his mother."
"I see. I guess his mother married a muggle then, and the Gaunt family disapproved." Harry said to move the conversation along.
"Merope used a love potion on a local muggle she fancied. She eloped with him after ensnaring young Tom Riddle Sr. At some point, she stopped giving him the potion, hoping that he had developed genuine feelings of love for her. Alas, that was not to be," Dumbledore said, shaking his head with pity. "He left her in her heavily pregnant state and returned to his home."
Harry hardly felt any shred of pity for the woman, although he could understand the desperation Merope Gaunt must've felt to push her into doing something like this. Marvolo and Morfin were bonkers, and they were reaching the very heights of mental disorder and insomnia from what he saw in the memory.
"I gather Voldemort paid a visit to his dear family and found them terribly disappointing." Harry said blandly.
"Indeed. He had expected to see them in good health and wealth, but Voldemort was sorely disappointed to see his kin. Once he learned the truth about his mother, he became all the more enraged. Till then, Voldemort had thought he was a pureblood with Slytherin's blood in his veins, abandoned at the orphanage or by some misfortune that befell his parents in the muggle world." Dumbledore took off his half-moon spectacles and rubbed his eyes.
"So, once he learned the truth, he became more unhinged." said Harry.
"Tom was unhinged long before that. But once he knew the truth, he became obsessed with power and hated any sort of weakness. He plunged into a greater, darker path of no return."
'What a touching story.' Harry thought sardonically.
"You're wondering why the memories of the past are important." Dumbledore said with a knowing look.
"The thought did cross my mind. Voldemort will not die if I say I know his family history." Harry said with a cross look directed at Dumbledore.
"Yes, you're right, nor will his quest for domination of our world stop. But in these memories lies the key to ensuring Lord Voldemort's defeat. Soon, you'll notice this, Harry. Of that, you can be sure." said Dumbledore.
Harry was very tempted to send a bat-bogey hex at Dumbledore's face. However, he resisted that urge by turning his attention to Fawkes. His enhanced senses made it almost impossible to ignore the bright aura of the sleeping phoenix.
"Sir, where can I get one of those?" Harry jabbed his thumb at the red and gold phoenix, who snapped out of his sleep to stare at him.
"Hmm, phoenixes are often hard to find. Usually, they find you." Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as he looked at Fawkes, who let out a soft trill, "Maybe Fawkes will take a liking to you after my time."
"In that case, I'll make sure to hold a stash of sweets for him in advance."
"That'd be for the best." Dumbledore chuckled, "Now before you go, I want you to have this."
Dumbledore reached into his drawer and offered a worn-out book to Harry.
"What is this, sir?"
"It's a book I wrote about using transfiguration and charms and spells in combat. Of course, I never published it, but I believe it'll serve you well."
Harry was surprised at Dumbledore's unexpected move. He took the book in stunned silence.
"You've already mastered some of the best defensive spells and elemental magic at a young age. I truly hope you won't have to use these spells, but nothing is certain in war. Lord Voldemort holds decades of magical knowledge over you, and I hope this book will strengthen your expertise in the two disciplines of magic that you're relatively weak."
"Uhh… Thank you, sir." Harry muttered.
"Now, off you go, Harry. I'll contact you soon with the next lesson."
Harry left Dumbledore's office with less hostility than when he arrived at the place. Dumbledore hadn't given him anything substantial to give him an edge.
'I suppose a personally written book was better than nothing.' Harry thought as he returned to his dorms and turned in for the night.
AN:
For artworks: https://discord.gg/Nw2JH25fJf