Chapter 7
A Promise Given
Authors Note - Enjoy
……
Chapter Seven
The library was a place of stillness, its towering shelves lined with books both new and ancient, but the table in front of Daphne Greengrass was cluttered with parchment, old tomes, and her meticulously kept notes. The faint scent of ink lingered in the air as she sat across from Harry, tapping the end of her quill thoughtfully against her lips.
"So, these are the foundational runes you’d want to familiarise yourself with first, it's essentially the alphabet for ancient runes” Daphne began, her tone focused. She slid a sheet of parchment toward Harry, where a complex arrangement of symbols—circles, slashes, and twisting lines—was inscribed.
Harry stared at them, brow furrowing. "You make this sound easy. But this looks like chaos"
Daphne gave a small smile. "Trust me, it’s not. But if you get it right, these runes can modify spells—make them stronger, and more precise. For example, this rune," she pointed at one that resembled a jagged lightning bolt, "can amplify a basic shielding charm, turning a normal Protego into something... sturdier, but it's not as straightforward as it sounds"
Harry raised an eyebrow. “So these aren’t just for writing ancient texts? You can use them in a duel?”
"Exactly. Think of runes like an underlying current of magic. They’re subtle but powerful when you understand them. The tricky part is... it’s not just about knowledge. You must feel what the runes are trying to convey—like tuning into a frequency most wizards ignore."
Harry leaned forward, intrigued despite himself. “And you’ve been learning this for how long?”
“Three years. I can enchant objects with simple protections now, but some of the more advanced stuff…” she trailed off, flipping through her notes, “Well, even I’m not there yet. It’s like learning a whole new language.”
Harry picked up the parchment, running his finger over the jagged rune she'd pointed out. “So how do I use these in practice?”
Daphne straightened in her seat, ready to dive deeper into the explanation. "It’s not just about memorising symbols or knowing what they mean. The runes need to be inscribed onto something like a moonstone. You know how moonstone is used to enhance certain magical properties?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah, it’s used in potion-making and some enchantments because it amplifies magic.”
"Exactly," she said, clearly pleased he was following. "When you inscribe the rune on moonstone, it acts like a conduit. The stone absorbs your magic as you channel it, and when you cast the spell the rune is attuned to, it reacts—feeds the spell, enhancing it in ways that regular casting wouldn’t."
Harry’s eyes flickered with interest as he tried to wrap his head around the process. “So, if I inscribed a rune on moonstone, charged it with my magic, and then cast something like Protego, the rune would kick in?”
Daphne nodded. “That’s the idea. But here’s the catch: the rune itself has to be imbued with intent. It's not just about scratching a symbol onto the stone and hoping for the best. You have to understand the rune deeply, almost like you’re syncing your magic with it. If you don’t, it’ll either do nothing—or worse, destabilise the spell.”
Harry furrowed his brow, intrigued. “Is there a reason this doesn’t seem common? Whenever I’ve dueled with him or his lackeys they don't seem to be using any enhancements. Why not? If they can boost spells and make you stronger, you’d think every Auror or even Death Eater would be using them.”
“It’s not that simple, or at least from what we’ve learned so far” Daphne explained, her voice softening. “For one thing, rune magic is old—ancient old. It’s much more intricate than modern spellwork. There’s a steep learning curve, and most wizards prefer quick, explosive magic that gets immediate results. You don’t need to apply a rune to make Diffino deadly for example”
She gestured to the parchment filled with runes. “These symbols take time to learn, to understand. You can’t just flick your wand and cast something flashy like Expelliarmus or Stupefy. Runes require patience, careful inscription, and attunement. It’s almost like crafting something, not just casting a spell. Most wizards don’t want to put in the time, especially when they can get by with more straightforward spellwork.”
Harry nodded slowly, starting to see the picture. “So it’s more like… slow magic?”
“In a way, yes,” Daphne replied. “Rune magic is about preparation. You have to inscribe the runes beforehand, often onto specific materials like moonstone, and infuse them with your magic. In a duel, unless you’ve prepared in advance, you can’t just whip out runes and use them on the fly.”
She paused, then added, “Also, it’s not entirely predictable. Runes are ancient and tied to raw, elemental magic. If you don’t fully understand what you’re doing, or if your magic doesn’t resonate with the rune, the results can be unstable—or worse, dangerous.”
“That’s why most wizards don’t bother?” Harry asked, now understanding why rune magic wasn’t more commonly practiced.
“Exactly,” Daphne confirmed. “Powerful wizards often focus on what they can control directly. They like spells they can cast in an instant, where they know exactly what will happen. With runes, you’re delving into deeper, more esoteric magic that’s harder to control. It’s not just a skill; it’s a mindset. You have to connect with the magic in a way that most wizards aren’t trained to do.”
She took a drink of her water beside her before carrying on.
“But they do have their place. In fact, they’re essential for more complex spellwork—like property wards, enchantments on magical buildings, or even ancient protections. Runes can stabilize and strengthen spells in ways normal magic can’t.”
Harry sat up a little straighter, intrigued. “So, it’s like… architectural magic?”
“Exactly,” Daphne said, pleased by his quick understanding. “For example, when you see protective wards around a place like Hogwarts or ancient manors like my family’s, chances are, runes are involved. They’re embedded into the very stones, woven into the structure to maintain the magic over time. That’s why some buildings or places have protections that last centuries.”
She flipped through her notes and found a diagram of an enchanted structure. “Look here—these runes can support a building’s magical integrity. When you cast a simple protection spell, it might last for a while, but if you inscribe the right runes onto a foundation stone or into the walls, the magic can endure for generations, renewing itself using the natural magic in the environment.”
Harry nodded. “So, you could use runes to reinforce something like your home's protections?”
“Definitely,” Daphne confirmed. “Old magical families—like the Blacks or the Greengrasses—often used runes to reinforce wards, secrecy charms, even self-repairing spells on their properties. It’s why some homes can withstand so much magical damage or stay hidden for centuries.”
She flipped to another page, showing Harry a diagram of runes carved into a stone tablet. “This year in Ancient Runes, we’re being split into pairs for a big project.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “What kind of project?”
Daphne leaned in slightly, her tone more serious. “We’ll be creating our runes. It’s one of the more advanced topics, starting after Christmas. The idea is to take what we’ve learned and craft a set of runes for a real-world application—like reinforcing a ward or enhancing an object’s magical properties.”
Harry’s stomach flipped a little. “You’re making your runes?” He let out a nervous chuckle.
Daphne smiled. “Yeah. It’s intense but fascinating. We’ll be applying everything from the last few years.”
Harry ran a hand through his hair, his uncertainty clear. “Great... I feel sorry for whoever gets stuck with me. I’m still trying to catch up with all this.” He gestured to the parchment, a sheepish grin on his face.
Daphne tilted her head, her expression softening. “You’re not as far behind as you think. You pick things up quickly—I've seen you in Defence. And besides,” she added with a small smile, “your partner will be fine. You’ve asked all the right questions so far.”
Harry smirked. “And if you get paired with me?”
“I’ll request a different partner, obviously,” Daphne teased, her lips quirking. Then she gave him a reassuring look. “I’m joking. We’ll be fine if it happens. You’re more capable than you think.”
“Spying on me?” Harry joked, raising an eyebrow.
“Please, Potter. You can’t do anything at school without Malfoy broadcasting it to everyone. He’s practically obsessed with you, personally i think he is in love with you” she said with a playful eye-roll.
“I’ve got dinner after this, Daphne. Don’t make me lose my appetite,” Harry groaned, earning a light laugh from her.
As Harry bent over the parchment, furrowing his brow in concentration, Daphne found herself studying him more closely for the first time in five years. He was deeply absorbed in the runes, the sunlight filtering through the window and casting a warm glow on his features.
She noticed the changes in him, even in the short span of two weeks since he first turned up at their home. From her limited observations, he had always been quite small for his age—rather skinny—but there was a new strength to his frame that hadn’t been there before. His shoulders were broader, his arms more defined and his chest seemed to be filling out, likely the result of the rigorous training sessions with Sirius. There was a newfound confidence in how he carried himself—a stark contrast to the boy she had seen in their first year, who had seemed burdened by the weight of expectations. Yet, behind that quiet confidence, she sensed something wasn’t quite there yet.
Daphne’s eyes flicked to his hands as they moved deftly over the parchment, tracing the jagged lines of the ancient runes. She found herself captivated by the way his fingers danced across the paper, his focus unwavering. It was strange how, in such a short time, he had transformed from the boy who had stumbled into their lives to someone whose presence felt almost... comfortable.
Willing to concentrate on the notes in front of her instead of the boy sitting across from her. Yet, despite her best efforts, her gaze kept drifting back to Harry.
He was so immersed in the task at hand, his expression shifting from furrowed brows of confusion to a bright smile of understanding as he decoded the runes. She found herself wondering what it must be like to have that kind of focus—to be so absorbed in something that the world around faded away. She believed she was focused on herself; really, she should’ve been a Ravenclaw. Yet Harry seemed to be like a moth to the flame.
Daphne shook her head slightly, her cheeks warming as she realised how intently she was observing him. She had spent so much time hiding behind her studies and maintaining her composure, yet here she was, openly staring. Her mother would have scolded her for such a lapse in decorum.
A faint whisper brushed the edges of her thoughts, a feeling she couldn’t quite pin down—something nagging and familiar, like the stirrings of a long-dormant instinct. She refocused on the notes, reminding herself that there was plenty to learn before the summer was out and the madness of Hogwarts' first term swept them up.
…
The training field at the Greengrass estate was a chaotic sight, a testament to the intense practice that had taken place over the past few hours. Craters and gorges marked the ground, evidence of the spells that had been unleashed during Harry’s training session with Sirius. The air was thick with the lingering scent of burnt grass and magic, and Harry could feel the fatigue setting in as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
“Alright, Harry! Let’s keep it going!” Sirius called, his voice booming across the field. He stood a few paces away, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he prepared for another round. “This time, I want you to combine the Expelliarmus with a Protego. You’ve got to anticipate my moves, not just react to them!”
Harry nodded, steeling himself for the duel. He felt the weight of his wand in his hand, its familiar presence offering a semblance of comfort amidst the fatigue that clung to him. He took a deep breath, grounding himself in the moment. It was just him and Sirius, the rest of the world fading into the background.
“Begin!” Sirius shouted, and the duel commenced.
Harry launched into a series of spells, his mind racing to remember everything he had learned over the last few weeks. Each spell he cast sent shockwaves through his body, the physical toll of exertion mixed with the mental strain of strategizing against his mentor. Sirius was relentless, countering each spell with ease, his own wand flicking like a conductor leading an orchestra.
The ground beneath them rumbled as Harry executed his spells, creating minor explosions and bursts of energy that sent bits of earth flying. With every movement, he felt himself slipping further into exhaustion, but he couldn’t let up; he had come too far to give in now.
“Good! Keep that energy up!” Sirius encouraged, dodging a particularly fierce Incendio that Harry had conjured. “Think about what you’re trying to accomplish!”
Harry struggled to focus. He could feel the fatigue weighing down his limbs, the way his breath came in short gasps as he fought to maintain control. His muscles were burning, a reminder of the relentless drills they had been doing.
“Harry, you’ve got to—”
But before Sirius could finish his thought, Harry’s foot caught on a root hidden beneath the uneven ground, and he stumbled forward, barely managing to keep his balance. The sudden lapse in focus cost him; he felt the ground shake beneath him as Sirius took advantage of his momentary distraction.
“Expelliarmus!” Sirius shouted, and Harry barely managed to raise his wand in time to deflect the spell, but the impact sent him staggering back, his footing unsteady.
Sirius pressed the attack, sending a flurry of spells Harry’s way, each one landing with enough force to make him feel the vibrations in his bones. It was a whirlwind of movement, the sun beating down on them, making the air heavy and thick with tension.
“Keep your guard up, Harry!” Sirius barked. “You need to react faster!”
“I’m trying!” Harry shouted, frustration bubbling up as he barely dodged another curse aimed at his shoulder. He could feel exhaustion creeping into his bones, the weight of fatigue pressing down on him. Every muscle in his body felt like lead, but he pushed through, refusing to let Sirius see him falter, even the older wizard was looking tired at this point.
“Think! Remember the training!” Sirius yelled, his voice cutting through the haze of Harry’s mind.
In that moment, tired and aching, Harry felt a strange warmth wash over him, an inexplicable surge of energy that seemed to rise from somewhere deep within. It was a rush, like the very air around him crackled with potential as something pushed from the ground up through his body. Instinctively, he raised his wand, a wild idea forming in the back of his mind.
“Protego!” Sirius shouted, but before he could finish reinforcing his shield, Harry called out, “Expelliarmus!”
The spell shot from Harry’s wand with unprecedented force, a brilliant flash of light that shifted between purple and blue and that shattered the air between them. It slammed into Sirius’s shield, sending a shockwave that rippled across the training field, causing the trees to groan in protest. The shield cracked like glass under the pressure, splintering apart in an explosion of energy that flung Sirius back, his body flying through the air before landing in a heap several meters away.
Harry stood there, stunned by what had just happened. The remnants of magic hung in the air, shimmering like a mirage, and the ground trembled beneath his feet. Breathing heavily, he stared at the spot where Sirius had landed, a mix of disbelief and shock coursing through him.
“Sirius?” he called, concern creeping into his voice as he rushed toward his godfather.
Sirius groaned, pushing himself up from the ground, dusting off his clothes with a grin that spoke of pride mixed with disbelief. “Well, that was unexpected!” he chuckled, though his breath came in ragged gasps.
Harry blinked, still processing the raw power that had just surged through him. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I know,” Sirius interrupted, his eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and approval. “But that was incredible! Where did that come from?”
“I… I don’t know,” Harry admitted, the adrenaline fading and exhaustion rushing back in waves.
“Well, whatever it was, we are going to find out and try it again.” Sirius’s grin widened, the excitement in his voice palpable. “You master that, and I’ll need Remus and maybe even Moody backing me up. You shattered my shield like it was nothing!” He let out a low whistle, clearly impressed.
Harry looked down at his wand, still unsure of what had happened. The surge of energy that had coursed through him was unlike anything he had felt before—raw, powerful, and instinctive. It was almost as if the magic had acted on its own.
Sirius clapped him on the shoulder, his eyes scanning the damaged training field. “Merlin, we really wrecked the place.” He muttered the words almost to himself, before casually flicking his wand. The ground rumbled and shifted as the deep craters and gorges began to smooth out, grass and earth knitting themselves back together until the field looked pristine once more.
“Impressive as always, Sirius,” Harry said, a tired but amused grin on his face as he watched the field return to its original state.
Sirius winked. “Years of breaking things and having to fix them taught me that trick.”
Harry chuckled, his legs wobbling slightly as he finally allowed the full weight of his exhaustion to settle over him. Sirius noticed and put a hand on his shoulder.
“You alright there, Harry?” he asked, his tone softening with concern.
“Yeah,” Harry replied, though his body told a different story. “Just… tired.”
“Well, you should be,” Sirius said, a hint of pride in his voice. “You gave me a real run for my money today. That last burst of magic—whatever it was—was something special. Next week you are going to be the one attacking me”
Harry nodded, still trying to process what had happened. That surge of power, that strange instinct—it felt different from his usual magic. But before he could think too deeply on it, Sirius gave him a gentle nudge.
“Come on, it's late, let's get you home for some rest. You’ve earned it”
…
Sirius ran a hand through his hair, his face tense with conflicting emotions as he leaned forward on the desk. “Honestly, Moony, I don’t know whether to be proud or worried.” He stared into the flames as if searching for answers. “Harry’s come so far in just two weeks. He’s a natural duelist—just like his grandfather.”
Remus turned from the window, nodding as he crossed the room and sat down in the chair opposite Sirius. “He really has. His progress with spellwork is astounding. He’s already mastering NEWT-level spells, and he’s been soaking up everything I’ve given him to read. For someone who was still catching up on basics a year ago, it’s remarkable.”
“Yeah,” Sirius muttered, a frown crossing his face. “But that’s what worries me.”
Remus raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Most of his talent… it’s not coming from learning for the sake of it, or for fun. It’s survival,” Sirius said, his voice heavy. “He fights because he has to. I can see it in him. He’s honed his instincts like someone who’s been in combat for years, and that’s not how it should be.” Sirius clenched his fists on the desk. “The kid’s had to learn to fight just to survive, and I hate that.”
Remus leaned back, sighing softly. “I know what you mean. There’s a fire in him, yes, but it’s born from necessity. He never got the chance to just… be a boy. And every time I see him pushing himself like this, I wonder how much more we’re asking of him.”
Sirius’s expression darkened as he thought back to Harry’s physical state when he’d first laid eyes on him back in third year. “I’ve never forgotten how he looked when we first met at the Shrieking Shack, you know. He was so thin, like he hadn’t been properly fed in years. And the way he carried himself… he was tough, but there were signs.”
Remus lowered his gaze. “I noticed it too. The way he winced when he moved, like he was used to being hit. His clothes barely fit him, and he was constantly on guard. I didn’t need to ask—I knew.”
Sirius’s jaw tightened. “I’ve had plenty of time to think about it. And every time I do, all I can think is how much I’d love to make those Dursleys pay for what they did to him. I wish I could kill them for it.”
Remus flinched slightly, the guilt gnawing at him. “And I could have done something sooner. I could’ve been there for him after James and Lily… but I didn’t. I stayed away. Because I thought it was safer.” His voice was filled with quiet remorse. “I was so focused on keeping my curse from affecting anyone that I didn’t stop to think how much Harry needed us back then. I should’ve found a way.”
Sirius glanced at him, his expression softening with understanding. “You couldn’t have known, Remus. We all thought he was safe with his aunt and uncle, no one could’ve predicted that they would’ve harmed him, you would’ve thought the loss of her sister would’ve refocused Petunia’s mind, that it was the best option. And even if you had tried to take him in, think about what would’ve happened… a young boy alone with you, during a full moon? That’s not something you could risk. As much as it kills me to say it, Harry would have been in danger around you.”
Remus clenched his fists, his face taut with frustration. “I know. I know you’re right. But it doesn’t make it any easier to accept”.
“You didn’t fail anyone,” Sirius said firmly, leaning forward. “You were trying to protect him the only way you knew how. And your condition... that wasn’t something you could just ignore. You did the right thing staying away. Keeping your distance kept him safe, even if it wasn’t the way we wanted.”
Remus sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I just wish I could have been more for him.”
Sirius reached out, placing a hand on Remus’s arm. “We’re here now. And we’re going to do everything we can to make up for lost time. He’s not alone anymore, and neither are you. Harry’s come through all this stronger than we ever imagined.”
Remus nodded slowly, his guilt easing slightly under Sirius’s reassurance. “You’re right. We’re here for him now. And we’ll make sure he knows he can count on us, no matter what’s coming.”
Sirius sat back, his eyes darkening once more. “And when the time comes, we’ll make sure the Dursleys get exactly what they deserve.”
He watched as Remus’s eyes suddenly widened, a spark of something mischievous flickering to life.
“I think I have an idea,” Remus said slowly, his tone thoughtful but edged with a hint of malice.
Sirius leaned forward, intrigued. “Go on?”
“Do you think Tonks might be up for helping us?” Remus asked, a grin starting to spread across his face.
“Oh, I bet she would jump at the chance,” Sirius chuckled, already envisioning whatever plan Remus had brewing.
“A Metamorphmagus could be very useful for this,” Remus added, his expression taking on a wolfish grin that Sirius hadn’t seen in a long time.
Sirius let out a bark of laughter, unable to contain himself. “Remind me never to piss you off, Remus.”
“Too late for that,” Remus said, his eyes gleaming. “But don’t worry, I’ll save my best work for the Dursleys. They have no idea what’s coming.”
Sirius grinned back, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. “Whatever you’re thinking, I’m in.”
……
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