Chereads / Harry Evans: Memoirs of a well-lived Death (SI) / Chapter 33 - Chapter 30: Burn it with fire (academically speaking)

Chapter 33 - Chapter 30: Burn it with fire (academically speaking)

"You've always been a bit of an overachiever, huh," was what Vernon had told Harry once he'd divulged the possibility of him skipping ahead one grade in the subject of charms. Petunia had simply nodded and made his favourite meal that day, which was another underwhelming reaction.

Harry had wondered for a moment if he'd spoiled the Dursleys in the excellence of their children. It was an odd thing to consider, that being so good at two subjects one got an opportunity such as this was waved off in such a simple manner. It was only later that he realised, as he was lying in bed with the hat on his head, reading 'Great Expectations' that the underwhelming reaction may have simply been a facet of how well his aunt and uncle knew him. He'd never appreciated being praised for his accomplishments, because they'd never been the result of any intrinsic qualities within him, but simply a higher level of maturity. Their attitude just showed that they knew him.

'The way this boy treats his step-father, completely disrespectful,' the hat muttered inside his head as it read along with him, very occasionally sending a mental probe his way. This was their deal after all, entertainment in return for Occlumency training.

'Pip is an impressionable child, struck by the inequality of wealth and despising his upbringing, for which he is not to blame,' Harry answered as his eyes slowly trailed along the page.

'You are of a similar age to the boy, and you act much better,' the hat remarked, making Harry smile sardonically.

'I have had access to a much higher degree of education and nutrients, to be perfectly frank. But Pip is also a fictional character, while I am in fact very real, so it's not really a comparison. I am glad to see you invested in the book.'

'The short professor is coming today?' the hat asked, at which Harry shrugged and glanced at the clock. It was almost noon, so he assumed that Flitwick would be ringing on his door any second now. It was a rainy day and Harry and the sorting hat had opted to stay inside and catch up on some reading. Harry didn't think that he'd read a fictional novel for the pure pleasure of it since starting Hogwarts and was enjoying unwinding his brain. Charms and arithmancy were interesting and fun, but at some point, one got burnt out of reading only for the purpose of learning.

'Soon,' he replied belatedly to the hat's question.

'Put on Bach, we weren't able to finish the record last time. I might as well listen from the beginning. I'd rather switch media now than have to quit after reaching half-page.'

'Your wish is my command,' Harry replied as he put down the thick tome and went over to the record player, putting on the classical record they'd started listening to yesterday evening.

'You owe me,' the hat snorted. 'After your thing with Esther, I deserve to be repaid for the spiritual damages done to my person.'

The sound of an orchestra started filling the room on a medium volume and Harry removed the hat from his head, just as the doorbell rang. He put it on top of his wardrobe, where nobody would be able to see it.

"Tell the boy to switch the record in two hours," were the hats parting words. Boy, in this case, referring to Dudley. Harry had taken to bribing him into changing the records in his absence.

"Sure thing," Harry said as he exited the room, went one door down the corridor and knocked on Dudley's door. "Switch the record for me in two hours will you," he shouted, getting a muffled affirmative from inside. "Got some chocolate frogs if you do it!" he finished before going downstairs, waving off his aunt and uncle, who had come to open the door and doing so himself.

It was indeed Professor Flitwick that was at the door, the small man of goblin ancestry barely even reaching up to the door knob and looking odd in his child-sized muggle suit. Harry stepped back to ceremonially open up the entrance. "Would you like to come in, professor?" he asked. Flitwick frantically shook his head, looked behind Harry, nodded at his relatives and started speaking quickly.

"We should leave, fast, no time to waste. Some bad news in terms of ministry involvement, they want one of their own examiners present when we test you for skipping grades next week," the man explained shortly, Harry simply nodded and turned back to his aunt and uncle, who were looking at them while standing half-way in their own separate door-ways, like an overly curious giraffe and walrus.

"I'll be leaving now, but I'm back for dinner, I assume. Have a nice day!" Harry said as he stepped out of the house, already dressed in clothes he could leave in. A hoodie, jogging pants and a pair of running shoes. He looked like a hooligan, but at least a comfortable one. All he had on him was his wand, strapped to his wrist with the wand-holster Ollivander had gifted him a year back and the bezoar necklace.

"Have fun," His aunt encouraged him in a strained voice, throwing a mean look at Flitwick before disappearing into the living room.

"Charming," Flitwick remarked a bit drily.

"They don't have a particularly high opinion of the Hogwarts staff, considering my mother and all," Harry reproached his favourite professor, gently. The man twitched and glowered, an interesting expression on such a small head, before sighing.

"Horrible thing, but we should be off, Mr. Evans, no time to waste," the man said as waved his wand and grabbed him by the elbow. Harry barely managed to close the door to the house behind him before they apparated, reappearing in front of the Hogwarts grounds. They started speed-walking towards the castle. Well, Flitwick was speed-walking and Harry was taking a stroll.

"Thank you again for taking the time for this, professor," Harry said once he'd recovered from the apparition, enjoying the beautiful nature he'd suddenly been transported to. The sun was shining, which hadn't been the case in Surrey. "I know you'd much rather be enjoying your holiday away from children."

Flitwick laughed."I assume you'd also rather be on vacation, but frankly with how much you like learning I think we're both wrong in our assumptions."

"Too true, too true," Harry said, seeing from the path they were taking up to the castle, that Flitwick likely intended them to practise the charms in the usual classroom. "Actually professor, would you mind if we practised outside, perhaps the fire-making charm by the lake? It's such beautiful weather, I'd rather not waste it."

Flitwick paused in his purposeful stride, Harry dutifully stopping next to him. Now that he thought about it, the castle actually looked kind of odd in full sunlight. Somewhat hyper-realistic. The architecture fit the autumn much more. Everything was too green, lush, flowery and the whole scene looked odd without at least a dozen students in view. He looked towards the forbidden forest and noted the cheery aesthetic it was taking on today. He thought he saw Hagrid walking between the trees, but couldn't be sure, it could just as well have been a hippogriff considering the man's size.

"Let's go to the lakeshore," Flitwick decided, waved his wand and turned to the left, off the beaten path. The grass bent under the man's feet before he walked on it and snapped back up after Harry finished traversing it. What an interesting spell.

"Wizards didn't have a spell for finding specific words in a book, but have a spell to bend the grass they want to walk on?" Harry asked dully, unimpressed by the logic.

Flitwick laughed. "There's no such spell to my knowledge, but five points to Ravenclaw if you guess which one I'm using."

"I'm a Hufflepuff," Harry huffed as they approached the lake.

"Damn sorting hat," Flitwick muttered and Harry started thinking about the question he'd been asked. For some reason, his thoughts wandered back to one of the first charms lessons, in which Flitwick had simultaneously levitated feathers to everyone in the classroom. If there was no specific spell to bend the grass, wouldn't the current situation necessitate a general telekinesis spell capable of affecting multiple objects? Just that in this case it was pushing down on something, instead of lifting it up.

"The spell you used in class when we were learning the levitation charm, you floated everyone a feather. You're using the same spell, just to press down instead of floating up," he concluded, gaining an appreciative look from the charms professor.

"Very quick on the uptake, as always, but the question was which spell."

"Wingardium Leviosa," Harry realised suddenly. If Lumos could be modified to change colour, then surely the levitation charm can be modified to affect multiple objects or a single area, he pulled out his wand, before pausing. "May I, professor?" he asked.

Flitwick looked back at Harry with an indecipherable gaze for a moment, glancing between boy and wand, before turning around, the lake coming into view. "Go ahead, Mr. Evans."

Harry thought about what he was intending to do for a second, his training of sorcery, which involved telekinesis helping him with expanding the use of the charm. Just like his exploits in hydromancy had helped him showcase his Aguamenti. He focused his intent, trying to form a bubble of force and cast the levitation charm on a clump of grass. The grass was ripped out from the ground and floated upwards. He winced.

"It's hard to invert the intent one is used to," Flitwick commented while Harry tried again, to no success.

"I'll work on it some other time," Harry said with a sigh.

"Perhaps that is best, spell modification is an advanced topic, even for you," Flitwick said. "Now, what can you tell me about the fire-making charm?" he asked as they reached the shore of the lake.

"Incantation incendio, the charm does exactly what it promises, by producing the amount of fire necessary for any given situation. Useful for lighting fire-places, scaring away wild animals and even warding off dangerous magical plants like devil's snare. The wand movement, ironically, is drawing a candle flame in the direction of what one wants to burn," Harry explained briefly as he fidgeted with his wand and looked longingly at the lake, just sitting there and begging to be set ablaze.

"It's a simple charm, if a bit dangerous. But even its risks aren't as pronounced, the staff has been discussing putting it in the first-year curriculum for a while now," Flitwick responded and jerked his head to the lake. "Why don't you try it, a small one," he asked and Harry gleefully complied, imagining the desired effect of a continuous flamethrower, drawing a candle flame into the air and casting,

"Incendio," he said clearly as he dug his feet into the pebbles under his shoes to brace for kickback. A weak stream of flames escaped his wand and travelled one or two metres outwards, before petering out.

"Good first attempt, try to be faster with the wand movement, the spell enjoys a certain urgency," Flitwick prompted.

Harry followed the professor's advice and produced a slightly faster and larger column of fire. He focused himself further on the concept of flame. The way it licked away at oxygen, hot and renewing and cast again without having to be told.

-/-

It was an hour later that Harry was running out of fumes. Casting a spell that converted his magic to heat semi-continuously, interspersing it with only some brief discussions on the theory was exhausting. He was on his knees, wand hanging limply from his fingers. He breathed out a big gulp of air. "How's it looking, prof, I think I'm running out of juice."

Flitwick looked critically at the few small scorch marks on the ground showing when Harry had lost control of the spell and then to the sun, which had changed position since they'd started. "I'd say we did fine, for today, the spell is at a level that exceeds expectations for the average year two grading scale. Considerable progress when one thinks about the fact that it's the first time we're practising."

Harry frowned. He was able to throw everything from an ember to a fireball the size of his head, either in a continuous stream of fire or a short burst. How was that an EE?

"One last attempt then, professor, for the outstanding," Harry said confidently and righted himself up rigidly, holding up his wand in front of his face and gathering the last bits of scattered focus he had.

"Alright then, Mr. Evans, show me what you can do," The professor said as Harry started scrounging up some magic from within him, metaphorically. It wasn't like there was a pool of energy inside of him. Harry rather saw it as a rope with a bucket that connected him to a different dimension, from which he could pull up energy. The rope was like a muscle in this scenario and tended to get strained at a certain point. He dipped the bucket in as deep as he could and pulled it up, holding it, holding it, quickly making the wand motion, rounding out the candle flame to more of a ball, "incendio," he hissed, inflecting the magic towards the fire energy while it was still in his body and surging to his wand, a trick he'd discovered in his study of pyromancy. It made the results hotter. His body burned and a small flame flickered to life at the tip of his wand. It was the initial spark right before the explosion.

A ball of fire as big as a thestral erupted from his wand, burning slightly white against the blue sky. It travelled forwards, over the lake, making the water hiss, spit and evaporate. Harry didn't let go of the spell, but continued feeding it, dipping the bucket in once again and creating a concentrated beam of fire that fed the ball before it could lose shape, making it bigger while it travelled further, albeit it more sluggish than before. Then he ran out of juice and collapsed to the ground as the now light orange ball of flames dissipated, leaving behind a small boiling trench in the water which quickly filled itself up again. Harry propped himself up on his hands as well as his knees as he breathed heavily, a lightness entering his head and making him feel nauseous.

"Was that outstanding enough, professor?" Harry asked through harsh inhales of air that was slightly too hot, even for summer.

Flitwick didn't answer, causing Harry to glance at the man, who seemed stunned by what he'd just witnessed, eyes wide and mouth open. Harry laughed and rolled onto his back, inflicting sharp pebbles onto his shoulders, spine and butt.

"I have to say," the professor started hesitantly. "That was actually impressive, the last time I've seen incendio pushed to its limits like that was…"

"Good." Was all Harry had to say to that.

"I guess I shouldn't have been overly stressed about the results of your second-year charms assessment," The man muttered, "You'll do just fine."

"What did you say earlier, professor, about the ministry?"

Flitwick sighed in apparent frustration. "It's not something you should concern yourself with overly, but the basic situation is the following. Hogwarts doesn't fast-track students often. Maybe one a decade, and mostly only ever in one subject. You receiving opportunities to skip ahead in two, charms and arithmancy caused some concern from the board, who voted on the issue a few weeks ago once the headmaster told them our intentions regarding your education."

"It probably didn't help that I'm the bad kind of half-blood," Harry mused, at which Flitwick shook his head.

"As much as it rankles, probably not," he admitted. "Anyway, the board forced us to bring additional examiners from the ministry to your examinations to check that everything was being handled correctly."

"Does it matter?" Harry asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I'm obviously passing, it's not like they can watch me burn a trench into the lake and then refill it with a sixth-year Aguamenti and then tell me to my face that I don't deserve admission to third-year charms. So the inclusion of ministry officials only matters if they're going to be intentionally unfair in their judgement. I can't imagine that would go over well with Headmaster Dumbledore, who holds an important position in the Wizengamot." Harry tried to rationalise, making Flitwick perk up.

"I guess that's true, just leaves an unpleasant taste in the mouth, is all," The man said and a short silence descended on the clearing. Until Harry's stomach grumbled.

"Maybe we can wash that away with some food?" Harry suggested. "I'll need my energy if we practise anything else today."

"You feel up for continuing?" Flitwick asked, seemingly surprised.

"Well, private instruction from a Charms master is hard to come by. I didn't expect such fast progress today. Have to take advantage of the opportunity, no?" Harry suggested, causing Flitwick to beam.

"Too true, Mr. Evans! I would definitely have profited from such tutoring at your age as well," he said and that was the cue for lunch, seeing as they went to the castle afterwards to get spoiled by the house-elf staff probably running a bit rabid at not having enough to do with the students gone.