Almost two months had passed since Harry had started his new routine, and he couldn't complain about the results he was already seeing in his spellcasting. The wall opposite him was marred with scorches from spellfire, with chunks of concrete having fallen off yet again. Harry waved his wand and a silent Reparo repaired the wall, however, it did nothing to the marks.
He didn't know why the other students didn't do what he had been doing. They all were in this wondrous world with unfathomable possibilities, and instead of working on themselves and striving to be the best version of what they could be, they opted to either slack off or go with the flow. Harry didn't understand the thought process behind such inaction.
Everyone was like that; he had observed over the years. Even in the muggle world, there were people who trained and took care of themselves and worked harder than others to achieve their dreams, while there were many who were happy to remain the Average Joe of their selves. Several people even opted to laze around all day, doing nothing with their lives. No dreams, no aspirations, no ambitions.
Harry hated that sort.
He had dedicated himself entirely to developing his abilities, and even though he had never been in a combat situation, he believed his fighting abilities were not lacking very much. He had incorporated the arts of Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense in his spell repertoire and was improving rapidly. Mastering the course material up to the fourth year had been slightly challenging, but Harry had taken it head-on. He had to marvel at how wonderfully the coursebooks had been designed. It required only dedication on his part to understand how to cast the spells, and the examples stated therein regarding the application of magic were very diverse. Any holes were easily filled by McGonagall and Flitwick, who had understood his issues with Quirrell and had taken to advising him with DADA as well. Overall, Harry was feeling very good about his work so far.
His Occlumency had also progressed nicely, and he could proudly claim that he had a powerful barrier around his mindscape to repel any assault. He had not managed to get someone to test it out, given how obscure the art truly seemed to be. However, he didn't want to stop. Creating a barrier around one's mind was only the first step. He had a long way to go if he wanted to proclaim that he was a master of the art.
His Legilimency, as he had learned his ability to influence others was called, was also developing nicely. Already, he had tried it out on a few fellow students. He didn't make them do anything drastic. Simply ordering them to jump after a step or twirl their spoon over their dinner was enough to tell him that he could instruct people, at least those who didn't have an Occlumency barrier, to do whatever he wanted. He had purposefully abstained from trying it out on any senior student, apprehensive of the possibility that someone might be an Occlumens. That would raise questions and suspicion he'd rather not have on himself.
Apart from his studies and practice, there was one other thing he found he enjoyed, and quite so. They had their first flying lesson a couple of weeks into the school year, and the first task was to command the school broom to shoot up into their waiting hands. Harry didn't know how he did it, but his broom shot into his hand right when he held his palm out. The rest of the tasks were easy enough. They had to grip it a certain way and mount it before taking off. Harry faced no difficulties, and shortly after, he was zooming through the air as rapidly as the old broom could manage.
Madam Hooch had awarded him ten points for a successful flight. Ever since then, Harry made it a habit to visit the grounds and fly around with her permission. She had observed him a few times and had remarked how he would be a good addition to his house's Quidditch team. Harry was undecided. On one hand, he found that he loved flying. However, he didn't want to bother with all the obligations being part of a team would entail. Currently, he was not planning on joining the team. However, he couldn't say anything about the future. It wasn't as if he needed to be a part of the team to fly around. He could buy a broomstick next year and fly anyway.
Overall, things were going nicely. Most of his teachers, McGonagall and Flitwick in particular, seemed to adore him, much to the ire of certain students who Harry couldn't care less about. Their opinions didn't matter. The two professors often handed him challenging assignments from second or third-year materials when he was done with his task for the day, and he felt pride in himself whenever he managed to emerge successful. It was always nice to hear how he was well on his way to surpassing the achievements of his parents, who made a masterful pair.
His parents.
Harry often frowned whenever he thought of them. How cruel was it that he had to grow up without them? The professors had told him how nice they were, and he was sure they must have loved him more than life itself. For them to be taken away forcefully from him was the height of injustice.
It was with those thoughts that Harry walked through the Charms corridor to the professor's office. Flitwick had told them that the door to his office would always be open to his students.
Harry knocked on the door and didn't even have to wait for long. The diminutive Charms master opened the door and looked up at him in surprise.
"Mr. Potter? Come on in," the professor walked in, and Harry followed behind him. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Professor McGonagall also sitting at the table. The witch looked at him, and he greeted both professors respectfully.
This was the first time he had come to any professor's office, and he didn't know what to expect. It was understandably smaller than the classroom with a large desk in the middle. A few cabinets were lined up against the walls alongside shelves full of books. Flitwick noticed his gaze and chuckled.
"You do not need to concern yourself with those, Mr. Potter," said Flitwick, smiling, and Harry looked at him. "Those books are merely course materials, old and new, with a few additional tomes mixed in. Nothing you won't find in our library."
Harry nodded.
"Now then, what brings you here right before the feast?" Flitwick asked as he took his seat. Harry stayed standing. McGonagall turned to look at him with a small frown.
Harry sighed as he looked down. "Is it okay if I skip the feast? I know it is mandatory for all students to be present at feasts, but given what day it is, I do not feel like being around everyone while they celebrate."
Flitwick's inquisitive eyes softened and McGonagall looked at him solemnly.
"I understand," he said, and Harry looked at him. "You may stay in your dormitory for the night. I shall ask a Hogwarts elf to send your dinner over there."
Harry gave the man as sincere a smile as he could muster. "Thank you, Professor."
Flitwick nodded with a sad smile before he flicked his wand and Harry saw a small book appear on the table. He watched in interest as the professor opened it before tapping his wand on a few pages. Once he was done, he flicked his wand once again and Harry saw another book appear. Flitwick passed it to McGonagall, who tapped it with her wand and nodded with a sad smile as she held the book out for him.
"Go on, open it," she said with a small smile. Harry took the book and opened it. His breath hitched and his eyes widened when he saw what was inside. Eagerly, he turned the pages until he had leafed through what he now knew was an album.
"It contains all the pictures of your parents and grandparents we had in our possession. Please keep it, Mr. Potter."
Harry couldn't make out any words as he stared at the visage of a redheaded woman smiling at the camera while Flitwick stood beside her, beaming. Right beside her, a grinning raven-haired man with round spectacles stood alongside a proud-looking McGonagall. Their hands were clasped together.
"I… Thank you."
Flitwick smiled. "Always remember, Mr. Potter. Your parents were remarkable people, and among some of the most capable witches and wizards. Never a Halloween goes by when we don't mourn them together."
McGonagall seemed to wipe her eyes. Harry nodded.
"It means a lot. Thank you."
They nodded, and Harry walked out of the office with the album grasped firmly in his hand. He climbed up the stairs to Ravenclaw Tower and immediately answered the riddle before quickly making his way to his dormitory. His dinner was already waiting for him, and he sighed before quickly finishing it. The plates vanished the instant he was done, and Harry washed his hands before lying down on his bed. That night, until sleep caught up to him, Harry Potter stared unblinkingly at the photos inside the album, streaks of tears running down his face.
However, it did nothing but embolden his resolve to become the best he could be.
-Break-
Hushed whispers greeted Harry when he walked into the Great Hall for breakfast the next day. Students already present were talking quietly, and he stared, confused for a moment before he walked over to the Hufflepuff table where Neville was sitting with Susan and Hannah. The boy jumped when Harry tapped his head and slid into the seat beside him.
"Blimey, Harry! You're gonna give me a heart attack someday!"
Harry ignored his complaint and looked at Susan who gave him a strained smile. Hannah was no better.
"Something happen?" He asked as he started to fix his plate. He was already slightly late today and had to skip his daily Occlumency practice. He looked up when no reply came. "Well?"
Susan sighed. "We were just talking about what happened last night."
Confused, Harry asked, "What happened last night?"
"What do you mean what happened last night?" Hannah asked incredulously. Harry frowned.
"I didn't attend the feast, with what day it was. I was in my room all night."
Hannah winced and apologized. Harry waved it away. "So?"
"It was mad," Neville began. "We were all sitting and the feast was in full flow when Quirrell came running in and stopped right there."
He pointed at where the house tables ended near the dais.
"He shouted something about a troll being in the dungeons before falling over, unconscious."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "And the idiot calls himself the professor of Defense," he muttered sarcastically.
"That's not all that happened though," Susan quickly took over. "Right after Quirrell fainted, everyone started shouting and screaming, and Dumbledore quickly took charge. He asked the heads to follow him and tasked the other teachers to guard the Great Hall before he sealed all the doors. We don't know what happened after that, but half an hour later, the headmaster and the other professors arrived and told us that the troll had escaped to the first floor and attacked a student in the bathroom. He didn't tell us who it was until a few Gryffindors let it escape this morning that it was the Granger girl."
Harry's eyes widened. He didn't like the girl for her attitude but he didn't want her dead either. He hoped she was alright.
"I see," he muttered with a frown. "How did a troll get inside the castle though? Shouldn't there be enough security?"
The three shrugged as they went back to their breakfast. However, something seemed fishy to Harry. There was no way a troll could infiltrate the school without inside help. He had read about them, and they were unremarkable creatures if one didn't count the thick hide they had on their bodies. Trolls were considered idiotic beasts, and there was no way one was intelligent enough to bypass all protections the school must have and enter. Something was wrong here.
-Break-
Hermione Granger had been grievously injured in the attack, and a contingent of aurors led by Susan's aunt had arrived at the castle the next day to conduct an exhaustive investigation. The newspaper had published a series of articles regarding the attack, openly questioning Dumbledore's ability to keep the students safe.
However, all those speculations had ended within a week during which several things happened. The first was the withdrawal of Granger from Hogwarts. She had made no friends in school and with an incident like this, there was no way her parents were going to let her stay. Last Harry had heard, she would transfer to a wizarding school in another country. He didn't bother to enquire much into it.
The Auror investigation also failed to yield any results. However, Harry was not satisfied. There was something wrong. He felt it.
It was during the process of the investigation that Harry met Amelia Bones for the first time. She was a stern, no-nonsense type of woman, and Harry could easily guess that she was a formidable witch. She had greeted him courteously, and they had spent a few hours together when they discussed matters important to their alliance. Harry had reaffirmed his proposal of the alliance, and she had been accepting of it. It was only when he officially joined the Wizengamot that they could officiate it. However, the opinion had been made clear.
Shortly after the incident, things quickly turned back to normal. The weeks leading up to the Christmas holidays were relatively tame. Most of the students had already gone back home. Harry was the only one in Ravenclaw who had stayed. Neville, Susan, and Hannah had also left, with the former two repeatedly asking him to join them for the holidays. However, Harry had declined politely.
The castle was almost empty, and it had given him time and space aplenty to relax, improve his magic and go for a fly occasionally.
Pulling himself out of the comfort of his warm blanket, he yawned before stretching, and he sighed in satisfaction. He looked at the pile of gifts at the foot of his bed and smiled. It was the first time he was receiving gifts for Christmas.
Harry flicked his wand and levitated all the gifts to the bed, where he started to open them one by one. The first was from Neville, who had gotten him a book on Advanced Transfiguration. Susan and Hannah were the same, gifting him books on Advanced Charms and Advanced Curses, Hexes & Jinxes respectively. They already knew he was reading much ahead and had chosen their gifts accordingly. Harry was grateful.
He had also gifted them according to their preferences. Neville and Hannah got a book on rare magical plants while Susan received one that covered potions. His lack of a personal owl was now noticeable after he had to send their gifts via school owls, and Harry resolved to get one in the summer.
For now, he stared at another package in confusion. He had expected to receive three gifts, so a fourth one was surprising. A note was attached to the package, and Harry opened it.
'Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.'
Putting the note to the side, Harry tore the package open.
A large, silvery fabric slipped through and fell on his lap, and Harry picked it up with a frown.
"What is it? A duvet?" He muttered to himself as he stepped off the bed and held it in front of him. It didn't seem like a duvet though. For one, it had two long sleeves in the middle and what looked like a hood. The fabric was so sheer that it was difficult to distinguish them at first glance.
Concluding that it was a cloak of some sort, Harry pushed his arms through the sleeves before draping the cloak over himself. The hood covered his head. His eyes widened when the fabric shrunk and modified itself so that it fit him. Interested to see how he looked, Harry walked in front of the mirror.
He stared in confusion when the mirror stayed blank.
"What?" He asked in confusion as he stepped closer and looked. There was nothing. "Why am I not visible?"
Harry pulled the hood off, and he almost fell off when his head became visible in the mirror, seemingly floating in the air. Realization dawned on him in an instant, and Harry grinned.
"This is an Invisibility Cloak!" He exclaimed softly. He had read about these. They were very rare and for him to get one was a marvel. However, he had read that Invisibility Cloaks lasted very few years, usually four to five. If this cloak belonged to his father, it must be at least 15 years old.
It must be a special cloak, he reasoned to himself as he took it off and smiled. Finally, he had something that belonged to his parents, and it was the best gift he could ever receive.
-Break-
It was evening and Harry was done with his practice for the day. He fixed the wall once again and walked out of the classroom.
It was Christmas, and times like these made him miss his parents. He had last thought about them on Halloween, but as he walked through the corridors toward the Great Hall, he couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like if he had grown up with them.
Forcefully, Harry shook his head. There was no use in reminiscing about what could have been. His parents were no more, and it was better if he let them rest. Thinking about them would only lead him down the path to despair, and Harry didn't want to be like that.
He entered the Great Hall and saw the long house tables missing. Instead, a large round table had been set up in the middle where he saw the professors sitting with a few students who had opted to stay at school for the holidays. A large Christmas tree had been set up where the podium usually rested.
Harry recognized Weasley, another redheaded older student who was probably his brother, and another pair of redheads who could only be the twin brothers he had heard so much of. Harry wondered just how many of them there were.
"Ah, Harry, do join us," the soft voice of the headmaster greeted him.
Harry nodded and took a seat beside Professor Flitwick who smiled at him. Around him were the other heads of houses and another professor who he had only seen at the staff table during meals. Professor Trelawney, the professor of Divination. She was a middle-aged woman with glasses so thick that they made her eyes bulge comically. He saw her look over at him and quickly looked away.
Harry had zero knowledge about divination, and the only way he could describe it was 'fortune telling'. He had no interest in such a subject, and he wasn't even sure if something like that worked. After all, nothing was set in stone. We made our choices that determined the future, not some preordained words uttered by a random person or the position of stars and planets. As if those heavenly bodies could be bothered with simple creatures like humans. Harry sometimes had to scoff at the hubris of humanity.
He started on his dinner as the professors chatted amongst themselves. The Weasley twins sat opposite him, and Harry looked at one, who winked at him. His brows furrowed before he quickly ducked as a thin stream of chicken gravy soared through where his head had just been.
"Weasley!" McGonagall rounded on him quickly, seething. "That would be twenty points from Gryffindor and a week of detention with Mr. Filch. If I see another prank it will be a month!"
"Behave, George!" The eldest Weasley chastised his brother, who turned to him with an affronted look.
"I'm Fred! You should at least tell us apart, Percy!" He corrected hotly. Harry stared at them in disbelief.
"I don't care. Behave," the boy who was named Percy said sternly, before turning toward him with an apologetic look.
"I'm sorry for that, Potter."
Harry shook his head with a chuckle. "No harm done. It was just a little prank."
"See! It was just a little prank!" The twin retorted, before grinning at Harry. "Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Fred. This is my ugly twin George."
"Hey!"
"This brooding one here is Percy and that glutton is Ron."
Harry nodded, ignoring the youngest who seemed to glare at him at every possible moment.
"You two are almost as bad as Mr. Potter's father and his friends were," McGonagall sighed as she rubbed her temples. Harry turned to look at her.
"What do you mean, Professor?"
McGonagall turned to look at him, and Harry saw every professor apart from Snape and Trelawney chuckling softly. The potions professor had a nasty look on his face as he looked at his plate with a glare. Professor Trelawney was simply staring into the distance.
"Like these two, your father and his friends were the pranksters of their time. The Marauders, they called themselves. Not a single day passed during their stay at this castle when I didn't rebuke them."
"You're joking!" The Weasley twins cried out in unison.
"Behave, you two!" Percy hissed, looking around apologetically.
"I most certainly am not," McGonagall sighed. "Those four surely set the record for the most points deducted during their seven years at Hogwarts."
The twins looked at each other with wide eyes before they turned to look at Harry. McGonagall looked at them and frowned.
"I truly hope the two of you tone down your pranks. The Marauders often went overboard, and there is a thin line between prank and bullying."
Snape looked up at that moment and stared the twins down, drawling, "You two dunderheads would do well to listen to her. It would be in your best interests if things don't turn out for you the way they did for them."
"Severus," Dumbledore's voice had a hint of warning to it, and Snape grimaced before he went back to his dinner. Harry saw the heads look disapprovingly at the potions professor who expertly ignored them and wondered what it was all about.
He saw Dumbledore glance at him with a small smile before the old wizard went back to his dinner as well, and he couldn't help but feel something was wrong. However, he didn't ask them. It was clear that they didn't want to talk about it.
Meanwhile, the Weasley twins went back to whispering excitedly to each other, and Harry kept one eye on them as he ate, constantly on the lookout for another prank which thankfully never came.
He also saw Professor Snape glance at him a few times during dinner with what he perceived was a conflicted look, and once again, he was left with more questions than answers.
-Break-
"Oi Potter! Hold up!"
Harry paused and turned around to see the Weasley twins running toward him, and he quickly brandished his wand and pointed it at them. They came to a stop and stared at the wand before chuckling and holding their hands up.
"No funny business, we promise," one twin said. Harry looked at them for a moment before he slowly holstered his wand.
"What is it?" He asked with a small frown. There was no telling with these two when a prank would be sprung up, and he'd rather not be a victim of whatever they might be cooking.
"Not here," the other twin said before opening the door to the broom closet right beside them. "Come on in."
Harry stared at the boy in disbelief.
"What the fuck?" He couldn't help but hiss. The boy quickly backpedaled and sighed.
"Look Potter, this is top secret. I promise there is no funny business."
The other twin nodded earnestly. "There is no way we'd ever prank the son of a Marauder."
"What does my father have to do with anything?" Harry asked suspiciously. The twin simply grinned in response.
Sighing, Harry pulled out his wand again and pointed it forward, gesturing for the twins to go in first, who sighed but did as he asked. He was tempted to just lock the door and run away but decided against it. They seemed genuine, or at least as genuine as they could be.
Harry entered the closet and shut the door behind him.
"Okay, what is it?" He asked once he had gotten some light inside. In response, one of the twins pulled out an old parchment from his pocket and held it out in front of him.
"Watch closely," he grinned as he pointed his wand against the parchment. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
Harry stared at the boy in confusion before he looked at the parchment and his eyes widened when words and shapes began to appear on it. He leaned closer to see what it was.
"Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present The Marauder's Map," Harry read out, putting special emphasis on the word 'Marauder'. He knew his father was a part of that group. "This is…"
"Yep," the other twin chimed in with a grin. "Your father and his friends created it. Brilliant thing, this is. Bailed us out more times than we can count."
"What is this map though?" Harry asked, excited to see another belonging of his father. In response, the twin who was holding the map folded it open, and Harry's eyes bugged out.
"This is insane," he whispered as he stared at the live map of Hogwarts where three footsteps with his and the twins' names were huddled together. Looking to the other side, he saw Percy Weasley walking towards the seventh floor. Even the ghosts were visible, he noted with wonder.
"This map shows the location of every person, ghost, poltergeist, blah-blah-blah. You catch my drift. Nicked it off Filch's office in our first year."
Harry nodded, still staring at the map. "Why show this to me though?" He asked with a small frown. "Why not keep it a secret?"
The twins smiled. "We might be pranksters, but we're not dishonest, Potter. This belonged to your father and his friends, and by all rights, it is yours now. So take it and use it well. May it help you as brilliantly as it has helped us out so far."
Harry stared at them in surprise. He could certainly respect a sentiment like that. He took the map from the twin who held it out for him with shaking hands, looking down.
"Thank you. I'll never forget this."
The twins clapped him on the back as they smiled. "Just help us out whenever we'd like to prank the Claws and we'll call it even."
Harry snorted.
"Deal."
-Break-
The quiet of the castle didn't sustain for much longer, and a week later, the students returned. Harry had used the past week as best as he could. Apart from his usual magical practices and flying, he also wandered around under his cloak with the map open in his hands, and he had to admit that it was a different experience altogether. He could easily take the vacant path and avoid people, either during the day or at night.
He had tried to discern the limits of the map the past week, wondering whether it could detect every person, dead or alive. So far, it seemed so. It even detected him when he was inside his cloak.
He wondered if the map could detect people when they were in their animagus form, or if they were polyjuiced, but he had no way of finding it out. It was not as if he could go to McGonagall and ask her to turn into a cat so that he could check.
So far, his inspection of the map did not point out any peculiarities. However, Harry did discover a few names he didn't know previously. He had no idea the Grey Lady of Ravenclaw was Helena Ravenclaw, the daughter of the founder. He also observed someone named Peter Pettigrew in what he now knew was the Gryffindor Tower. However, he had no idea who he was. Chalking it up to some ghost, Harry moved on.
He had also discovered that Hogwarts had hundreds of elves, and almost all were congregated around the kitchen. Their names overlapped one another, and Harry had not bothered to differentiate.
He had dedicated each day to one floor of the castle, exploring as much of it as he could before moving on to the next. So far, he had found numerous passageways that he could use to either escape Hogwarts or travel from one point to another inside the castle. He was lucky enough to find the kitchen on the first day and had his first meal there. The elves were very welcoming, and he liked the peace very much.
It was during his exploration the previous night before the students could return that Harry found what was probably the most impressive piece of magic at Hogwarts. He was exploring the seventh floor under his cloak when he noticed someone named Blinky on the map, walking in the corridor right beside him from left to right and back again.
Intrigued, Harry quickly turned the corner and saw the elf smile up ahead before walking forward, a pile of junk levitating behind it. Flabbergasted, Harry ran straight to the spot and saw what looked like a door vanishing and being replaced by a giant stretch of a wall. He touched the wall, patting it but nothing happened.
Recalling how the elf seemed to walk in front of the wall, Harry repeated the motion and frowned when nothing happened. Perplexed, he stood to the side, staring at the wall.
A few minutes passed when he saw the door appearing once again, and he stood straight. The door opened and out came the same elf with a beaming smile. Quickly, Harry threw the cloak off his body and emerged from behind the suit of armor. The elf looked at him in surprise.
"Hello, Blinky, right?"
The elf's eyes widened. "Young master knows Blinky?"
Harry nodded. The elf seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown, and Harry quickly pedaled on before its floodgates opened. By now, he had some idea how sensitive some elves could be.
"What kind of room is this, Blinky?"
The elf blinked back tears that threatened to fall out and beamed at him. "This be Come and Go Room, young master. The elvses be using the Come and Go Room for junk."
Disappointed, Harry muttered, "So this is a junkyard inside Hogwarts then."
The elf vehemently shook its head. "No! The Come and Go Room be a magic room. It become any room you wants. You walks like this and asks for what you wants, and the room become what you wants."
A triumphant glint appeared in his eyes as Harry thanked the elf and sent it away, before looking at the giant wall.
"Alright, Come and Go Room. Let's see what you're made of."
It turned out the Come and Go Room was indeed the marvel Blinky had said it was. The room could do anything he could possibly want, and Harry had spent hours inside, tinkering with it and discerning its capabilities. He was sure that with time, he would discover even more about this room.
So far, he had been practicing inside that abandoned classroom. Now, it was time to level up.
That had been roughly twenty-four hours ago, and at present, Harry was sitting in the Great Hall at the Ravenclaw table with his classmates around him. So far, he had not made friends with anyone in Ravenclaw, and that suited him just fine. He was cordial with every student, and that was enough.
He smiled when Susan grinned at him from the opposite table before Dumbledore took the podium and gave his New Year speech, welcoming the students and staff back. Everyone clapped politely once the headmaster finished when Harry suddenly winced.
A sharp pain coursed through his scar and he gripped the table tightly, eyes clenched as he tried to keep the pain at bay. Slowly, the burning sensation subsided until only a faint throb remained.
He chanced a look at Quirrell around whom his scar reacted the most, but couldn't see anything out of ordinary. The man was his usual jittery self, sitting at the head table with his ridiculous turban wrapped around his head and looking around at the students at large. He sighed and went back to dinner.
He never noticed the malicious crimson eyes that glanced at him barely a second later, before they reverted to black.
TBC.
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