Chapter 11 - The-Forbidden-Floor.

All the boys from wizard families talked all the time about Quidditch. The weeks at Hogwarts had been very productive for Potter, who discovered that the voice in his mind was actually a magical version of a photographic memory.

Everything he read, his mind recorded, something normal for him to understand, but every comprehension he had seen, read, or studied was spoken in his mind when he seemed to have doubts or something like that. This was new, as a voice in his mind talking and teaching him was surely something to consult a psychologist about.

He had clearly heard of photographic memory, and knowing about this magical version excited him greatly, making him strive to read all his books and ask many questions of older students, professors, ghosts, and anything he could do to honor the divergent title he had received.

As a result, he achieved excellent performance in potions, which pleased Snape greatly, who stopped picking on Gryffindor, thus increasing Harry's popularity.

The Transfiguration classes were great for Harry, not because of the subject itself, but because of the affection he began to receive from Professor McGonagall.

A serious and responsible woman, she aimed to treat Harry like a grandson, being responsible for always ensuring he was doing well in his quest to become a great wizard.

Harry even had a few short classes where he performed excellently in the primary transfiguration instructions, and now Quidditch, a class scheduled to be taught starting from Halloween.

But anyway, it seemed that today was the day everyone could start flying on brooms, which caused great excitement among the first-years. Ron had already had a big argument about football with Dean Thomas, who also used their dormitory. Ron saw nothing exciting about a game where no one could fly, and it only had one ball.

Neville had never ridden a broom in his life because his grandmother had never let him get near one. Deep down, Harry thought she was absolutely right because Neville had managed to suffer an impressive number of accidents even with both feet on the ground.

But this was only temporary; Harry saw potential in Neville, which many did not see in him.

In respect to this, Neville and Harry sought to study together every night in the Gryffindor common room, clearly under the watchful eyes of many older students who liked Potter's receptive and welcoming personality towards the younger students, and his funny and sarcastic personality towards the older ones, making them genuinely confused if they were talking to an eleven-year-old boy in an adolescent's body or simply interacting with someone their age.

Unlike the books and tales that mentioned him, Potter was very humble and sought to treat everyone he met as friends.

Even older Slytherin students tried to bully him in their pranks, but they stopped when they noticed he didn't care much and continued his routine of training, studying, and adventures at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

 

Hermione Granger was almost as nervous as Neville at the idea of flying. This was not something one could learn by heart from a book, although she had tried. At Thursday breakfast, she tired them out talking about flying tips she had read in a library book called "Quidditch Through the Ages".

Neville practically hung on every word she said, desperate to learn anything that might help him stay on his broom later, but everyone else was very happy when Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

Harry received letters from Hagrid every day; the gamekeeper had an unparalleled desire to send his own information about how to take care of a phoenix and especially about other animals.

Something Harry used for the animals in his Muggle-repelling suitcase, but for Hagrid's understanding, it seemed to be just his desire to learn everything.

Among the letters and gifts that many owls brought through the hall, along with another reply from Ollivanders regarding their long debate on the incredible creation of a phoenix, one specific package fell to Neville, bringing him a small bundle.

Of course, Draco didn't take long to notice this. Draco's owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened making a show at the Slytherin table.

Unfortunately for Harry, Draco was only receptive with him, continuing to be a spoiled and annoying boy with his huge ego, attacking Gryffindors and supposed Mudbloods, as he said. A great affront to people with Muggle descent, causing a certain conflict between him and the boy, who sought to distance himself from Potter.

 

A barn owl brought Neville a package from his grandmother.

He opened it excitedly and showed everyone a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed full of white smoke:

 

- It's a Remembrall. - Explained Seamus, a little boy slightly taller than the others, with very dark skin.

 

 

- Gran knows I'm forgetful. This serves to remind you that you've forgotten to do something. Look, press it like this and it turns red, oh... - Neville said, feeling embarrassed as the Remembrall suddenly emitted a scarlet smoke.

 

 

- ... You forgot something... - Hermione said, and Harry couldn't help but notice the toy's uselessness.

 

 

- "It tells you that you forgot something, but how will you know what it is if you've already forgotten? What a lack of sense." - Harry cursed in his mind, noting that one thing he had noticed a lot about wizards in general was their lack of sense, at least compared to No-maj, who could at least think and question things more than wizards. With wizards going more towards guesswork and belief fanaticism or just the excuse that if the government said so, then it's right, or that just because someone is strong, they are right and justified to command them.

 

 

Neville was trying to remember what he had forgotten when Draco, who was passing by the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall from his hand.

Ron immediately stood up. He had been looking for a reason to fight Draco, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble faster than any other teacher at the school, was there in a second.

 

 

- What's going on? - McGonagall asked, startling Draco as he hadn't seen her arrive.

 

 

- Draco took my Remembrall, Professor. - Neville explained, grumbling, Draco quickly dropped the Remembrall on the table.

 

 

- Just looking. - He said, and slipped away with Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

 

 

- If any problems arise, notify Potter, he will know not to act impulsively. - McGonagall said, catching Harry's attention, who pretended to be clueless.

 

 

- I'll rub those filthy brats' faces on the ground, that's what I'll do. - Harry muttered, turning his attention back to a book, making Hermione chuckle as she was the only one who heard. Or so she thought, as McGonagall gave a laugh at her student's clownish demeanor, which reminded her a lot of a dear Potter she once knew.

 

 

[ ... ]

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry and the other Gryffindor boys descended the stairs leading outside the castle for their first flying lesson. It was a clear day, with a fresh breeze and the grass waving along the slopes under their feet as they walked towards a flat lawn on the opposite side of the Forbidden Forest, whose trees swayed ominously in the distance.

Harry knew this place very well, as he came here every morning to run and train his martial skills and swordsmanship.

He even recognized the professor in question, as he had seen her taking care of several students who went flying on the Quidditch pitch.

The Slytherin boys were already there, as well as the twenty brooms arranged in rows on the ground.

Harry had heard the Weasley twins complain about the school's brooms, saying there were some that started to vibrate when they flew too high, or always slightly pulled to the left.

 

 

Professor Rolanda Hooch arrived. She had short gray hair and yellow eyes like a hawk's, and she demonstrated a seriousness equal to that of McGonagall, who, upon noticing the students, immediately said:

 

- What are you waiting for? - She asked sharply. - Each one beside a broom. Come on, hurry up. - Harry looked at the broom. It was old and had some twigs sticking out at odd angles. - Stretch your right hand over the broom and say "Up".

 

 

- Up! - Everyone shouted as the professor instructed.

 

 

Harry's broom immediately jumped into his hand, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger's simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's didn't move at all.

Maybe the brooms were like animals and sensed when a person was scared, Harry thought, as there was a tremor in Neville's voice that clearly said he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked through the rows of students correcting their grip. Ron was delighted when she told Draco he had been holding his broom wrong for years.

Harry couldn't help but smile with satisfaction, as the little boy was indeed becoming insufferable, just like Ron, who only sought to fight Malfoy or scare people away from him in some sort of fan-boy attack that Harry often saw celebrities suffer from.

 

 

- Now, when I blow my whistle, kick off the ground hard - Said the professor. - Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come back down by leaning slightly forward.

 

- When I blow my whistle... Three... Two... - She would have continued, however:

 

Neville, nervous, scared, and afraid that the broom would leave him on the ground, kicked off hard before the whistle even touched Madam Hooch's lips.

 

 

- Come back, boy! - She shouted, but Neville rose like a cork shot out of a champagne bottle, four feet, six feet, twenty feet.

 

Harry saw Neville's white face looking down at the ground in fear as he gained height, heard him gasp, slip sideways off the broom, and... as if by automatic action, Harry, still mounted on his broom on the ground, propelled himself quickly in a straight line.

Neville was very high up, hanging by his cloak on a hook from a high wall in the area. He fell a few meters, only to get caught again on a kind of iron spike ten meters off the ground.

When he finally fell again, Harry arrived at the spot, and seeing the broom slowing down, chose to jump to catch Neville two meters from the ground.

A dull thud, a cracking sound, and Neville fell face-first onto the grass, sprawled out, with Harry a few meters away.

Everyone thought the cracking sound was a bone, but fortunately, it was just the broom that broke in one part, slowly floating towards the Forbidden Forest and disappearing from view.

Neville looked around in shock as everyone rushed to their location.

To the surprise of the professor, she saw Potter laughing while lying on the ground with his arms outstretched. The top part of his uniform had torn in several places, and she couldn't help but sharpen her eyes when she saw an ugly scar on him, though there was no fresh wound, just Neville, who had a slight cut on his leg but didn't even feel pain, as he also laughed at the sight of Harry.

 

 

- Make a note on that parchment of how many times I've saved you. - Harry said, wondering where this list would end up based on the next few years at Hogwarts.

 

 

- I thought I was going to die. - Neville said, laughing to keep from crying. - Thanks, Harry... again. - He continued, making Harry laugh even more.

 

 

Madam Hooch leaned over Neville, her face as white as his as she checked for any fractures.

 

 

- How cruel, professor... I'm the one who suffered the most here. - Harry said, tying the top part of his torn uniform with a makeshift knot.

 

 

- Are you okay, Mr. Potter? - The professor asked, seeing him realize she was referring to the scar she had noticed before, to which he waved his hands dismissively as if it were nothing and moved away.

 

 

Fred and George, who were practicing Quidditch on the specific field, saw the situation from afar and made every effort to get close to Harry and strike up a conversation about everything.

 

 

Meanwhile, Madam Hooch turned to the rest of the class:

 

I will take Mr. Longbottom to the infirmary for an examination... None of you move while I take this boy to the hospital! Leave the brooms where they are, or you will be expelled from Hogwarts before you can say "Quidditch". Let's go, dear. - Neville, in the professor's presence, distanced himself and got out of the hearing range of the class, only for Draco to burst into laughter.

 

 

Did you see his face, the idiot? - Draco said as the other Slytherin students chimed in.

 

 

- Idiot? - Harry asked the Weasley twins, who laughed at how ridiculous Harry found such a lame insult. - No machine-gun insults or something heavier?

 

 

- Shut up, Draco. - Retorted Parvati Patil.

 

 

- Oooo, defending Neville? - Said Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl with harsh features. - Never thought you'd like crybabies, Parvati.

 

 

- Look! - Said Draco, lunging forward and picking something up from the grass. - It's that rubbish Neville's gran sent him. - The Remembrall glinted in the sun as he held it up.

 

 

- Draco, stop being a pathetic jerk who only looks worse every second. - Harry said quietly, stopping his conversation with Fred and George. At the same moment, everyone stopped talking to watch, and Draco let out a wicked laugh when he finally caught the attention of the person he had been staring at since the beginning of the lesson.

 

 

- I think I'll leave it somewhere for Neville to find, how about on top of a tree? - Clearly, Malfoy was picking a fight with Harry, with Fred and George laughing as Harry murmured to them, "This kid's gotta be kidding, right?"

 

 

Seeing that Harry wouldn't react to words, Draco mounted his broom and flew off. He wouldn't lie, he knew how to fly well, and hovering at the level of the highest branches of an oak tree, he challenged:

 

- Come and get it, Pottah!

 

 

Harry grabbed his broom, saying, "Damn kid, I'm gonna beat you up".

 

 

- No! - Fred shouted, pretending to be concerned.

 

- Breaking the rules leads you astray from the right path. - George continued, pretending to be a goody-two-shoes.

 

 

- How hypocritical, you two worrying about rules. - Harry responded, smiling, making the twins return the smile.

 

 

Blood pounded in his ears. He mounted the broom, kicked off hard, and rose, rose high, the air rushing through his hair and his robes billowing behind him, and in a wave of fierce joy, he realized he had found something he could do without anyone teaching him, something that made his adrenaline soar to incredible levels. This was easy, it was wonderful.

He pulled the broom higher to climb even more and heard shouts and exclamations from the girls on the ground and a cheer of admiration from the boys. He turned the broom sharply, facing Draco, who was hovering fifteen meters off the ground. The boy was dumbfounded.

 

 

- Give that here. - Harry commanded. - Or are you afraid to go higher, because falling from this height will only sprain a wrist, or maybe fracture an ankle.

 

 

- Oh, really? - Draco retorted, trying to mock but looking worried, as he had indeed flown in his childhood, but never more than ten meters off the ground.

 

 

Harry somehow risked what to do. He leaned forward, gripped the broom firmly with one hand, and it shot towards Draco like a spear. Draco barely managed to escape.

However, before moving away, Harry kicked the boy's leg, causing him to nearly lose balance in a spin.

Clearly, he didn't want to do anything risky, knowing he could save the boy from that height, but a scare is always good when someone is too full of themselves.

Harry made a sharp turn and kept the broom steady. Some people on the ground applauded, and the Weasley twins shouted excitedly about finding a new team member.

 

 

- Here, there are no Crabbe or Goyle to save your skin, Draco. - Harry said. The same thought seemed to have occurred to Draco, as he quickly broke into a cold sweat, immensely wishing to dive to the ground to save himself from what might happen.

 

 

- Catch it if you can, Pottah! - Draco shouted, his name coming out strangely, and threw the crystal ball high into the air.

 

 

Harry saw, as if in slow motion, the ball rising into the air and beginning to fall towards a tower. He leaned forward and pointed the broom handle downward. The next moment, he was gaining speed in a nearly diagonal dive, racing the ball. The wind whistled in his ears, mixed with the shouts of the onlookers.

Now he was rising quickly with the ball descending towards him. He stretched his hand out in front of the broom and grabbed it just in time to perform a spin with the broom and prevent his collision with a tower window, not realizing that the Deputy Headmistress was inside, teaching fifth-year students Transfiguration.

 

 

His broom landed slowly on the ground, and he stared at Neville's Remembrall, only to hear a voice that made him straighten his posture:

 

- HARRY JAMES POTTER! - His adrenaline-fueled excitement vanished faster than when he had flown without even having instruction. Professor McGonagall came running towards the group.

 

 

He followed her apprehensively, while in the sky Fred and George gave him a thumbs-up before racing back to the Quidditch field to avoid being caught.

 

 

- Never... In all the time I've been at Hogwarts... - Professor McGonagall almost lost her speech in astonishment, her glasses flashing non-stop. -... How dare you... You could have broken your neck...

 

 

- The fun of being alive is testing if we're immortal... - Harry murmured to himself, thinking the woman wouldn't hear, but her sharp look indicated otherwise.

 

 

- It wasn't his fault, Professor... - A young brunette girl ran to her housemate's rescue.

 

 

- Quiet, Miss Patil... - McGonagall cut her off.

 

 

- But, Draco... - This time it was Ron who brusquely stepped in front of Parvati, not wanting others to "take his place."

 

 

- Enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, come with me, now! - McGonagall turned her back to the students, with Harry following her.

 

 

Harry saw the victorious faces of Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle as he left with Professor McGonagall, who headed for the castle. If his look at the boys meant anything, it was a certainty that he would give those pests a piece of his mind.

He wanted to say something to defend himself, but something seemed different, as McGonagall appeared to radiate excitement after disappearing from the students' view.

Professor McGonagall walked determinedly, not even looking back.

They climbed the entrance steps, ascended the marble staircase, and Professor McGonagall continued saying nothing.

She flung open doors and marched through corridors, leaving Potter in doubt.

 

At this moment, he saw red smoke in the Remembrall, reminding him that he still had Neville's gift, which he had put in a pocket to give to him later.

This made him chuckle because, after all, the tool had worked to remind him of something.

 

 

Professor McGonagall stopped at the door of a classroom. She opened the door and stuck her head inside:

 

- Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, may I borrow Wood for a moment?

 

 

- "Wood?" - Harry thought, intrigued, Wood must be something she was going to use to punish him. What kind of thing was a Wood?

 

Only to laugh internally, realizing it was a person. A fifth-year boy came out of Flitwick's classroom looking confused.

 

- You two, follow me. - Professor McGonagall said, and they all continued down the corridor, Wood examining Harry with curiosity and some fascination, whether because of his torn clothes or the fact that he was the famous eleven-year-old Harry Potter who seemed older than himself. - Enter. - Professor McGonagall indicated an empty classroom, except for Peeves, who was busy writing swear words on the blackboard, and finally, Harry found someone who really knew how to insult. - Out, Peeves! - She ordered. Peeves threw the chalk into a basket, producing a loud metallic echo, and left cursing. Professor McGonagall closed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys.

 

- Harry Potter, this is Oliver Wood... Oliver, I found you a Seeker. - McGonagall said as the boy's expression changed from confusion to delight.

 

 

However, Harry didn't like hearing this at all, what nonsense was this about a "Seeker", whatever she meant, Harry had a sword there, and the idea clearly came to him that he wouldn't hesitate to use.

 

 

- Are you serious, Professor? - Oliver asked, turning his gaze to Potter, who sharpened his look in response.

 

 

- Dead serious. - Professor McGonagall summed up. - The boy has natural talent. I've never seen anything like it. Was it your first time on a broom, Harry? - Harry nodded. He had no idea what was happening, but it seemed he wasn't being expelled or going to get punished, well... they could try, but then things would get ugly.

 

 

- He caught a Remembrall in midair practically with his hand after a dive of over 15 meters, and an ascent of 10. - Professor McGonagall told Wood. - He didn't suffer a single scratch, as he skillfully spun at the end before colliding with my office. Not even Charlie Weasley could have done the same. And before you ask, that tear in his clothes is from when he used the broom to save a friend who would have fallen nearly 20 meters.

 

 

Oliver now looked like someone whose dreams had all come true at once:

 

- Have you ever seen a Quidditch match, Potter? - He asked excitedly, seeing Harry shake his head.

 

 

- Wood is the captain of the Gryffindor team. - Professor McGonagall explained.

 

 

- And he has the perfect physique for any position on the field. - Oliver added, now walking around Harry, examining him. - The muscles compensate for any loss of a team member during a match, ready for substitution, the perfect agility for a Seeker as the professor mentioned.

 

- We'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor, a Nimbus 2000 or a Cleansweep-7, in my opinion. - He dictated, referring to a fast broom that would suit his tall and muscular body perfectly.

 

 

- I'll talk to Headmaster Dumbledore and see if we can circumvent the first-year rule. God knows we need a better team than last year's. Crushed in that last match against Slytherin. I could barely look Severus in the face for weeks. - Professor McGonagall peered at Harry severely over her glasses. - I want to hear that you're training hard, Potter, or I might reconsider the punishment you deserve.

 

 

- Punishment I deserve? Why am I not hearing you say anything to that damn Draco Malfoy, who started all this, or do you think a dispute between noble families is better than fights between children? Remember, he stole the gift of an heir to an ancient and noble house... Minerva, I studied what you taught me, and me responding to a child's provocation is much better than Augusta Longbottom deciding to start a war with damn Lucius Malfoy because of two idiotic children deciding to act like noble politicians, because only God knows that woman has any reason for it, so I really hope you don't let the behavior of a spoiled and childish kid like Malfoy slide? - Harry dictated, unable to stay quiet any longer. - Either you do something, or I will... and it will be much worse than almost invading your office with a flying broom.

 

 

Then, unexpectedly, she smiled:

 

- Your father would have been proud. He was an excellent Quidditch player. - She said to Harry, who didn't know how to react, given that he had never discovered much about his father. - And just like him when he became one of Gryffindor's prefects in his study days... don't worry, Mr. Potter, I have my methods of punishing students like Mr. Malfoy, after all, I am the deputy headmistress. - She concluded with an air of responsibility.

 

 

[ ... ]

It was dinner time. Harry didn't know how, but the information about what happened after he left the Quidditch field spread throughout Gryffindor house while he was lost in the castle trying to find the Great Hall. Ron had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth but forgot what he was doing.

 

- Seeker? - He exclaimed after seeing Harry finally arrive for dinner, sitting across from him cursing about his lousy sense of direction and eating what looked like a meat-filled sandwich. - But first-year students have never been chosen, you're going to be the youngest house player in the last... - He said, his face turning as red as a beet, or a heart attack, Harry really couldn't tell the difference, and it bothered him a bit.

 

 

- Century! - Seamus completed, eating a ham and cheese pie.

 

 

- I'll start training next week - Harry announced. - Just don't tell anyone, Oliver wants to keep it a secret for the first match, but I don't think it will help much. - He continued, noticing the looks and attention he was getting from the female audience, and hey, there were some cuties in the seventh year.

 

 

- I'll start training next week - Harry announced. - Just don't tell anyone, Oliver wants to keep it a secret for the first match, but I don't think it will help much. - He continued, noticing the looks and attention he was getting from the female audience, and hey, there were some cuties in the seventh year.

 

 

Fred and George Weasley, who entered the hall at that moment, saw Harry and quickly went to talk to him:

 

- Great move - George said in a low voice. - Oliver told us, we were already thinking of talking to him, but McGonagall beat us to it. We're on the team too, Beaters.

 

- You know, I'm sure we're going to win the Quidditch Cup this year. - Fred said. - We haven't won since Charlie left school, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Oliver was practically jumping when he told us.

 

- Anyway, we have to go, Lee Jordan thinks he found a new secret passage out of the school near a statue, so we definitely have to investigate. - George explained just to Harry.

 

- For the safety of our fellow students, of course. - Fred added, punching his younger brother's shoulder.

 

Fred and George had barely disappeared when someone less welcome appeared: Draco, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

 

 

- Having your last meal, Pottah? When are you taking the train back to the Muggle land? - Draco said, but quickly got scared when Harry stood up and grabbed him by the collar of his uniform.

 

 

This made the boy's feet dangle off the ground due to the height difference between Potter and Malfoy. Many students watched and laughed at the scene, as Crabbe and Goyle punched Harry's stomach, and in everyone's view, it was funny because it had no effect on Potter, who sinisterly whispered in Draco's ear, making him freeze in fear from the string of curses the closest ones could hear, even including Draco's hot mom, and Harry had never even seen the woman.

 

 

- You're much braver now that you're back on the ground and accompanied by your little friends, but you haven't changed a damn bit, as you can see - Harry said calmly, unfazed by the boys' weak punches. Despite the teachers' table having their attention on him, Potter soon let go of Draco and said. - If you think a rich family can scare me, know that if I want, I can very well buy all their possessions and end that ridiculous ego of yours.

 

- Listen carefully, Malfoy! I don't care about your childish spats with Ron or your strutting around like a mini politician, I couldn't care less. Don't drag me into this, and if I see you tormenting Neville one more time, I'll put you in the highest tower of Hogwarts during a stormy night. - Harry finally said, sitting down, where McGonagall was about to intervene but saw that Harry didn't do anything more.

 

 

- I'll face you anytime alone. - Draco said. - Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Just wands, no physical contact. What? Never heard of a wizard's duel, I suppose? - Draco said, stepping back a bit while straightening his uniform.

 

 

- Of course, I have. - Ron replied, turning around. - I'll be his second, who will be yours?

 

 

Draco eyed Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up. Pansy was clearly the strongest among them, but she seemed frozen after all the insults Harry had whispered to Draco, too scared and amazed to see someone dominating all three boys:

 

- Crabbe, midnight, is that alright? We'll meet in the trophy room, it's always unlocked.

 

 

When Draco left, Ron looked at Harry, who said nothing.

 

- You know I didn't agree to anything, right? - Harry said, making Hermione laugh because he really didn't call anyone to a duel, only Ron. - And what did you mean when you offered to be my second? - He continued, seeing Ron sit back down next to him, and really starting to get annoyed by the boy's meddling, it seemed more like he wanted Harry to get into trouble so he could save him.

 

 

- Well, the second's there to take over if you die. - Ron said casually, finally starting to eat the cold pie.

 

 

Harry, staring at him without reaction, thought, and thought, only to say:

 

- So if I die, the first thing you'll do is take my place in the fight... wouldn't it be better to try and defend my body while retreating? - Harry said, not understanding the logic of such a move.

 

 

- But people only die in real duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Draco will be able to do is shoot sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do real damage. But I bet he expected you to refuse. - Ron explained.

 

 

- Yeah, of course, I would refuse the challenge of a childish kid who wants to shoot fireworks from a wand or measure the size of his... wand at midnight in a deserted room... what a stupid idea to think I would get into that, are you crazy? - Harry said mockingly, poking fun at the redhead. - I don't know about him, but I've learned some basic spells, and now I feel like testing them on a target, you know?

 

 

- But... we haven't even had Charms class yet, how did you learn? - Ron demanded, surprised at being left behind, and if the redness in his face was any indication, the kid was about to explode.

 

 

Hermione, who was listening to the conversation in front of them, also became interested.

 

 

- Well... I read, and I learn... It's like a photographic memory, but due to magic, it's as if a voice in my mind whispers what I should do... At least that's how it works with things I've read, studied, and understood, making me never forget, because the answer always comes.

 

 

- Excuse me? - The two looked up. It was Hermione Granger.

 

 

- Can't a person eat in peace in this place? - Exclaimed Ron, still red, barely noticing Harry's sharp look.

 

 

Hermione ignored him, and Harry quickly said:

 

- If you keep acting like that with girls, you'll never get a girlfriend, Ronniekins. - Harry teased, making the redhead embarrassed by the nickname given by his brothers, which always made him feel ashamed.

 

 

- But... Hermione Jean Granger, right? - Harry said to the brown-haired girl, pretending not to know her, but finding the perfect moment to socialize with the supposed future Jean Grey he wanted to create.

 

 

- Yes! I couldn't help but overhear about you having a photographic memory, is that true? - She asked, with Harry nodding in agreement, showing he wasn't being boastful or anything. - And you learned spells with it, how many... actually, which spells? - She continued to ask, but the conversation remained audible only to the trio.

 

 

- Some basic ones. - Harry said, still seeing the curiosity in her eyes. - Well, there's Lumos: which provides a light source from the tip of the caster's wand.

 

- Nox: Which extinguishes the light at the tip of the wand, derived from Lumos.

 

- Rictusempra: Great for tickling anyone.

 

- I also learned Wingardium Leviosa: for levitating objects.

 

- Alohomora: Known as the thief's spell, unlocking any door or padlock.

 

- Flipendo: Which serves to push the target.

 

- Oh, and Expelliarmus: Which disarms any wizard holding a wand or object, making it fly away from them and towards you. - Harry concluded, mentioning what he had seen in the books he bought and used on objects. However, performance is always better with an opponent.

 

 

- Incredible... and all that just with a photographic memory. - Hermione said, while Ron rolled his eyes, being ignored by the other two, though he was also surprised by Harry's potential after just a few weeks of study.

 

Clearly, now he understood how his friend kept so busy in the afternoons and evenings, always declining to play wizard chess because he was reading.

 

 

- But anyway, I couldn't help but overhear what you and Draco were saying. - Hermione continued after overcoming her surprise and fascination with Potter knowing so much.

 

 

- Bet you could. - Ron muttered.

 

 

- And you shouldn't wander the school at night, think of the points you'll lose for Gryffindor if you're caught, it'll be very selfish of you. - She said, cutting off Ron.

 

 

- I did think about that, but in a few weeks, I'm already bored of this routine. Think about it, Hermione, what kind of rubbish rules are these?

 

- Forced to go to bed at 10 PM, can't even study after that time, no spells in the corridor when they would prevent us all from being late to classes, since getting lost on the stairs is the easiest thing around here.

 

- And a mere delay because of the stairs already makes many students lose points without a chance to explain.

 

- If you notice, the rules force us to lose points... Come on, why don't you come with us, that way someone responsible prevents us from doing something stupid. - Harry continued, seeing that he managed to bring her to the "dark side."

 

 

Clearly, the girl didn't sleep early and wanted to study in the library until late, but couldn't even talk in the dormitories after 10 PM without being constantly reprimanded by prefects about the noise.

Moreover, making friends between classes was practically impossible with the teachers around.

 

 

- Let's do this! You come with us, and I'll start studying with you and protect you from Snape, since he seems to have a special taste for attacking you in classes. - Harry told the girl, who, with this argument alone, showed she was already willing to accept, as her expressions revealed.

 

 

- Alright, but only so Gryffindor doesn't lose points. - Hermione said, not wanting to admit she wanted to study more, have more freedom in the library, and even become friends with Harry, who seemed very much like her in terms of studies.

 

 

- Don't worry, if I lose points, everyone loses. - Harry said, standing up while laughing. - Although that's pretty bad for me, imagine having the whole school as an enemy. - Harry said to himself but then shrugged it off, with the girl noticing his huge disregard for others' opinions.

 

 

With that, Harry and she left the common room, with Harry munching on a snack he pulled from his blazer pocket, ignoring the redhead's protests, who had been ignored until now, clearly showing he didn't like Hermione.

 

 

[ ... ]

It was late at night at Hogwarts, and Harry was currently lying in bed shirtless. He thought about the duel; there was a good chance they would be caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris, and Harry felt he was pushing his luck, breaking yet another school rule on the same day. On the other hand, since it was past eleven o'clock, Harry found himself bored again with these dull and poorly thought-out rules.

However, maybe the problem was him, as he was the only one still awake, whereas Seamus and Dean must have been sound asleep, judging by their snores.

 

 

- Eleven thirty. - Ron finally whispered. - We'd better go. - Ron quickly put on his school uniform, while Harry just slipped on sneakers and a black T-shirt that matched his pants.

 

 

They grabbed their wands and stealthily crossed the tower room, descended the spiral staircase, and entered the Gryffindor common room. Some embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchairs into humped shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the nearest armchair.

 

 

- You aren't thinking of leaving me behind, are you, Harry? - A lamp turned on. It was Hermione Granger, in a pink robe and a scowling face while sinisterly turning the armchair she was sitting in.

 

 

- "Corrupting her is going to be lovely." - Harry thought, considering her to be extremely in favor of the rules, while he was the complete opposite.

 

 

- You! - Ron exclaimed furiously. - Go back to bed.

 

 

Harry looked at the girl with a smile. He had thought she was all prim and proper, not one to think of breaking the rules, but there she was, so he completely ignored Ron's heated state and how he was trying once again to keep someone from socializing with Harry.

 

 

- Let's go. - Harry called, extending his arm. He pushed the Fat Lady's portrait aside and stepped through the opening.

 

 

Hermione even looked back, considering going back inside and giving up on all this, but she found herself facing an empty portrait. The Fat Lady had gone off for a nighttime visit, and Hermione was locked out of the Gryffindor tower along with the other two.

Harry hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Ron and Hermione started arguing again.

 

 

- Do you think I'm going to stand here, waiting for Filch to catch me? If he finds the three of you, I'll tell the truth, that I was trying to stop you from going out and you can confirm it.

 

 

- How cheeky - Ron said loudly.

 

 

- Shut up, you two. - Harry said brusquely. - I heard something. - It sounded like someone was sniffing, but Harry didn't know if it was close or if his hearing was picking up something far away again.

 

 

- Mrs. Norris? - Ron murmured, squinting into the dark. - It wasn't Mrs. Norris. It was Neville. He was tangled up on the floor, sleeping soundly but woke up suddenly frightened when they approached.

 

 

- Thank God you found me! I've been here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get into the room.

 

 

- Keep your voice down, Neville. The password is "pig snout", but it won't do you any good now, the portrait went off to buy cigarettes and vanished. - Harry said to him, laughing to himself. - So, any fractures or anything serious? - Harry asked about the earlier accident.

 

 

- I'm fine - Neville said, showing his intact leg. - Madam Pomfrey only healed a cut I had, but nothing serious.

 

 

- Good, look, Neville, we have to be somewhere, we'll see you later. - Harry said, already leaving, but the boy quickly grabbed Harry's shirt.

 

 

- Don't leave me here! - Neville said, standing up. - I don't want to be alone, the Bloody Baron passed by here twice and terrified me.

 

 

Ron checked his watch and then looked furiously at Hermione and Neville:

 

- If we get caught because of you two, I won't rest until I learn that Draught of Living Death potion Quirrell mentioned and use it on you.

 

 

Hermione opened her mouth, maybe to tell Ron exactly how to use the Draught of Living Death potion, but Harry motioned her to be quiet with a finger to his lips and signaled for them to proceed silently.

They flew through the corridors striped with moonlight streaming through the high windows' bars. At every turn, Harry expected to bump into Filch or Mrs. Norris, but they were lucky.

They ran up a staircase to the third floor and, on tiptoe, headed to the trophy room.

Draco and Crabbe still hadn't arrived. The crystal cabinets holding the trophies gleamed when touched by the moonlight. Cups, shields, plates, and statues flickered in the dark with silver and gold flashes. They walked close to the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors on either side of the room.

Harry took his wand out of its case in case Draco appeared suddenly and started dueling. The minutes ticked by slowly.

 

 

- He's late, fifteen minutes past midnight, maybe he chickened out. - Ron whispered. Then a noise in the next room startled them; they had just raised their wands when they heard someone speaking, and it wasn't Draco.

 

 

- Sniff around, my sweet, they might be hiding in a corner. - It was Filch talking to Mrs. Norris.

 

 

Horrified, Harry made frantic signals for the others to follow him as quickly as possible, and they silently fled towards the door farthest from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely rounded the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.

 

 

- They're here somewhere! - They heard him grumble to the cat. - Probably hiding.

 

 

- This way! - Harry mouthed to the others, and petrified, they began to hurry down a long gallery filled with suits of armor. They could hear Filch getting closer. Suddenly, Neville let out a frightened squeak and started to run.

 

 

He tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the two of them crashed into a suit of armor.

The clatter and crash were enough to wake the entire castle, surely with the cascading clatter of the armors bumping into each other.

 

 

- Crap! - Harry shouted, grabbing Hermione and Neville under his arms and starting to run, carrying the two with Ron on his heels, not turning his head to see if Filch was following. They rounded a corner, grabbing onto the smooth doorframe, and galloped down one corridor after another. After a while, Harry put them down and took the lead, with no idea where they were or which direction they were heading. They tore through a tapestry and found a secret passage, plunging through it and emerging near the Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room. - I think we lost him. - Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was doubled over, wheezing and muttering incoherently.

 

 

- I told you so. - Hermione said, crossing her arms.

 

 

- We need to get back to the Gryffindor tower. - Ron reminded. - As quickly as possible.

 

 

- Draco tricked you. - Hermione said to Ron. - You realize that, right? Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room. Draco must have told him.

 

 

Harry thought she was probably right but decided to deal with the consequences later. He couldn't deny he was loving the excitement, especially with his adrenaline running high.

 

 

- Let's go. - Harry said, but it wasn't going to be that simple. They hadn't walked ten steps when they heard the sound of a doorknob and something shooting out of the classroom ahead of them. It was Peeves. He spotted the kids and squealed with delight.

 

 

- Shut up, Peeves, please, you'll get us expelled. - Ron said desperately, with Peeves letting out a cackling laugh.

 

 

- Out for a midnight stroll, are we? Naughty, naughty, you'll get caught-y.

 

 

- Not if you don't tell on us, Peeves, please. - Hermione intervened this time, thinking they could get away with it.

 

 

- Should tell Filch, I should. - Said Peeves, pretending to be well-behaved, but his eyes gleamed with malice. - It's for your own good, you know.

 

 

Understanding what he could do to prevent this, Harry quickly interrupted Ron from being aggressive with the poltergeist:

 

- Peeves, tell us what you want! Just ask, and I'll do it, short or long term, in exchange for letting us go for now. - Harry said, standing face-to-face with him, who looked at him seriously.

 

 

- Very well, boy. - Peeves' voice was sarcastic. - You owe me one, and know that not fulfilling a promise to a poltergeist could be your downfall as a wizard. - He continued, to which Harry laughed challengingly, and with that, the passage was opened to them with Peeves disappearing.

 

 

It was a long corridor, and the group ran to the end of it as the candles lit up automatically with their presence, something that would certainly attract Filch and his cat. This corridor was strange, but Harry didn't care; he just wanted to find the Gryffindor common room.

 

 

They found themselves facing a closed door, and Ron groaned:

 

- We're done for. - Ron moaned, pushing the door uselessly. - We're dead! This is the end.

 

 

They heard footsteps, Filch running in search of them but not knowing exactly where to go.

 

 

- Hermione. - Harry said to the girl in front of him, and she already understood what he meant.

 

 

Just like Potter, she had learned what they were thinking:

 

- Oh, move over. - Hermione grumbled, annoyed with Ron who was still blocking the door. Grabbing her wand, she tapped the lock and said: - Alohomora! - The lock clicked open, and they tumbled through, closing the door behind them and straining their ears to listen.

 

 

- Which way did they go, Peeves? - It was Filch asking. - Quickly, tell me.

 

 

- Say "please". - Peeves replied, behaving himself on the other side.

 

 

- Don't mess around, Peeves, come on, which way did they go?

 

 

- I'm not saying "nothing" if you don't say "please". - Peeves said in his irritating sing-song voice.

 

 

- Alright, please. - Filch grumbled reluctantly.

 

 

- NOTHING! Nothing haaa! I told you I wouldn't say "nothing" if you didn't say "please"! Ha! Haaaaaa! - And they heard Peeves fly away quickly, with Filch cursing angrily.

 

 

- He thinks the door is locked! - Harry spoke. - I think we escaped. What is it, Neville? - Neville had been tugging on Harry's robe sleeve for half a minute. - What is it? - Harry turned and saw, very clearly, what it was. For an instant, he was sure he had entered a nightmare; it was too much after everything that had happened.

 

 

They weren't in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor, the forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.

They were facing the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of eyes rolling madly. Three noses, twitching and quivering as they sniffed them. Three slobbering mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.

It was very still, eyes watching them, and Harry knew that the only reason they were still alive was that their sudden appearance had caught the dog by surprise, but it was already recovering quickly; there was no doubt about the meaning of those deafening growls.

Harry saw very clearly when the animal thought about raising its head to advance in attack due to staring at something in him, but then he raised his right arm forward, while slowly placing his wand and katana on the ground.

 

 

- Harry, what are you doing? - Hermione asked, terrified.

 

 

- It's not looking at us as a threat, but at our wands. - Harry explained as he watched the animal sniff his hand. - Put them on the ground slowly. - Harry finished while the other two heads growled at the trio behind him.

 

 

Following Harry's instructions, they quickly found themselves without any object threatening the animal. They soon noticed the expressions on the dog's three heads changing to calm, accompanied by a frantically wagging tail.

 

 

- Harry, you told me you looked after reptiles in a zoo, not that you tamed legendary beasts... And you still say the tales lie about your deeds. - Ron said, sitting on the floor after all the panic.

 

 

- This is a surprise even to me. - Harry said, petting the creature, which stretched out on the floor, seeking affection. - But he's quite cute, don't you think? - Harry said, turning to them, though he saw that none of them found it cute, but rather a danger.

 

 

[ ... ]

After a few minutes of waiting, during which Harry petted the grand three-headed dog and fed it with food taken from his miniature suitcase, they all aimed to leave the room, locking the padlock to return to their dormitories.

Harry checked the door to make sure it was well locked, and they ran, almost flew down the corridor. Filch must have hurried to search for them elsewhere because they didn't see him anywhere, but they didn't care. The only thing they wanted was to get back to the dormitory and not be expelled. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

 

 

- Where have you been? - She asked, looking at the robes slipping off their shoulders and their red, sweaty faces.

 

 

- You disappeared, we had to run so Filch wouldn't think we were fleeing. - Harry gave the excuse, which seemed to work. - Pig snout. - Harry panted, and the portrait swung forward. They stumbled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into the armchairs.

 

 

It took a while for one of them to speak. Neville, in particular, seemed like he might never speak again:

 

- What do you reckon they're keeping a thing like that locked up in a school for? - Ron finally asked. - If there's a dog that needs exercise, it's that one.

 

 

- Don't speak ill of Fluffy. - Harry said, the first name that came to his mind when he saw the creature's neediness.

 

 

- Fluffy? Seriously? - Ron said, exasperated.

 

 

- Dead serious. - Harry grumbled, making a childish pout.

 

 

Hermione had recovered both her breath and her bad mood:

 

- Don't any of you see? Are you all that blind? - She asked sharply. - Didn't you see what it was standing on?

 

 

- On the floor? - Ron guessed. - I wasn't looking at its paws, I was too busy with the heads.

 

 

- She's talking about the trapdoor Fluffy was lying on. - Harry said, with Hermione looking at him in surprise, thinking he hadn't noticed. - Why do you think I gave him so much attention? There's definitely something hidden there, and it must be very precious to have a Cerberus as its guardian. I had to keep all three heads focused on me, not on what they were guarding.

 

 

She stood up, glaring at him:

 

- I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could have been killed, or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed. - She said as Harry's laughter caught her attention before she ascended the stairs.

 

 

- Come on, Mione... you enjoyed this "adventure", didn't you? Much better than going to bed at ten o'clock. - Harry said, making the girl blush at the childish nickname. - I can't wait to see your potential in breaking the rules. - He finished, watching her quickly head to her dormitory.

 

But one thing was noticeable—the content smile hidden behind her curly locks, the first genuine smile of someone who had truly found a friend.

 

 

Ron stared at the staircase, mouth agape:

 

- She needs to decide what's a priority. - Ron finally said, sighing in relief and sitting beside Neville.

 

 

However, Harry paid no attention to the two calming down. He climbed to his dormitory, pondering something Hagrid had said.

Gringotts was the safest place in the world if you wanted to hide something, perhaps with the exception of Hogwarts.

With quick reasoning, it seemed Harry had discovered where the small package from vault seven hundred and thirteen had ended up.

 

 

- "This is getting interesting." - Harry thought after a cold shower, finally lying down in his usual dark sleepwear, looking at the clock, which read 2:45 AM, with Harry smiling.

 

 

This was the maximum time everyone should have to do their things; 10 PM was too early. In his mind, there were some ideas about changing these rigid and poorly formulated rules at such a prestigious wizarding school.

Besides, he needed to study the consequences of not showing up for a wizard's duel, as magic was certainly more restricted to certain things and words were dangerous if not used correctly.

And with that, I bring the tenth chapter of Changed Prophecy to an end. I hope everyone is enjoying it and don't forget to comment. XD

I plan to write twenty chapters in this book before moving on to book 2. I'm excited to create the next ones, but I am making an effort to craft this initial plot well.

I just ask for your understanding, because my focus is to develop a well-elaborated story from The Prisoner of Azkaban onwards, without skipping the innovative plot of Harry entering the wizarding world. Anyway, I hope you are enjoying it, and don't forget to give your support in the comments. XD

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Rolanda Hooch:

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Argus Filch:

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Mrs. Norris:

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