Chapter 8
A Promise Given
Authors Note - Enjoy
……
Chapter Eight
Mornings at Grimmauld Place were often quiet, but never easy. Harry sat at the dining table, surrounded by stacks of books on defensive magic, advanced charms, and counter-curses. Remus sat across from him, quizzing him on obscure spells while Harry tried to concentrate through his mounting fatigue.
“What does Finite Incantatem do when cast non-verbally?” Remus asked, tapping a finger against the table.
“It cancels… cancels active spells in the vicinity,” Harry responded, running a hand through his already messy hair, his voice sounding uncertain.
Remus raised an eyebrow, and Harry caught his mistake. “But it’s less powerful than Finite , which only ends a specific spell.”
“Good catch,” Remus said with a smile. “You’re getting better at this”
They spent hours this way—Remus guiding Harry through complex spell theory and incantations. By midday, the library would be filled with Harry muttering under his breath, fingers tracing lines of text as he learned to fine-tune his spells.
Of course, Remus would throw in the occasional challenge.
“Without using your wand, conjure a light strong enough to fill this room,” Remus instructed one afternoon, leaning back in his chair.
Harry blinked. “Without a wand?”
“Precisely.”
After several frustrating minutes of failed attempts, Harry finally managed to summon a bright, flickering glow from the tip of his fingers, lighting the entire room. Remus chuckled softly at Harry’s astonishment.
“You’re learning faster than you realise,” Remus said, giving him a brief but proud smile. Harry beamed in response and as he did the lamps in the room fizzled and popped loudly, causing Harry to widen his eyes in alarm.
“What the bloody hell was that!” they heard Sirius yell from upstairs, earning a laugh from Harry and Remus.
…
But if the mornings were spent refining spells, the afternoons were a different beast altogether, with the occasional session with Mad-eye.
Mad-Eye Moody didn’t believe in “gentle” training. From the moment Harry stepped into the training field, he was under attack. Spells crackled through the air, the ground scorched with magical burn marks, and Harry was forced to dodge, deflect, and counter as fast as his body allowed.
“Constant vigilance!” Moody barked, sending a silent hex that Harry barely managed to block with a hastily raised shield.
Harry was sweating, his muscles aching as he countered again with a precise Stupefy that Moody effortlessly parried with a flick of his wand.
“Too slow, Potter!” Moody snarled, sending a blinding flash of light toward him. “In a real fight, you’d be on the floor already!”
Harry ducked, rolled, and fired a Reducto that hit the ground near Moody, sending up a cloud of dust and dirt. But before Harry could catch his breath, Moody was already moving.
“ Confringo! ” Moody shouted, and Harry felt the impact of the spell reverberate in the air as he leaped aside. “Come on Potter, hit me with something proper, you're not disarming the Dark Lord, are you?
The training ground was full of gorges and craters from these duels, the earth torn apart by spell after spell, but Moody didn’t care. If anything, he seemed pleased with the destruction, as though it marked Harry’s progress. Harry flung a diffino at the old auror who ducked easily.
“That's more like it lad!,” Moody grunted, his magical eye spinning wildly in his socket. “But you’re still holding back. Again!”
They worked on offensive spells, curses, and counter-curses until Harry’s arms felt like lead, the wand heavy in his hand. Moody hurled advanced curses at him—ones that, in any other situation, could have been lethal—but the old Auror had his way of keeping it safe enough for Harry to learn without getting seriously injured.
Though it was exhausting, there were moments of levity. Like when Harry managed to cast a Leviosa charm so strong, it launched Moody’s magical eye clear out of its socket, sending it bouncing across the field.
“Potter!” Moody roared, his eye wide as he scrambled after it. Harry couldn’t help but burst out laughing, even as he doubled over, panting from the sheer exhaustion of their session.
…
Weekends were when the duels with Dumbledore began. It was still unlike anything Harry had experienced. The headmaster moved like a dancer, his wand flowing gracefully as if every spell was an extension of his very being. Harry could barely keep up.
“ Expelliarmus! ” Harry shouted, throwing a disarming spell at Dumbledore. The headmaster is keen to make Harry weave all manner of spells in a duel.
But with a flick of his wrist, Dumbledore countered effortlessly, sending Harry’s spell back toward him with double the force. Harry scrambled to shield himself, only to be gently but firmly knocked backward by Dumbledore’s magic.
“Speed is important, Harry,” Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye, “but so is understanding the magic behind the spells. Let them flow through you.”
Sometimes, after particularly brutal sessions with Moody or Sirius, Dumbledore would go easier on Harry, conjuring harmless illusions for him to practice against. Other times, Harry would surprise even himself by deflecting one of Dumbledore’s spells with sheer determination and even making Dumbledore rapidly parry a spell.
One evening, as Harry tried to cast a complicated disillusionment charm, Sirius sauntered in, grinning mischievously. Before Harry could react, he turned the boy’s hair a bright shade of neon green, causing Dumbledore to chuckle softly.
“I see your godfather’s sense of humor remains intact,” Dumbledore said with a small smile, watching as Harry tried to shake the green out of his hair. Remus popped in moments later and, with a simple flick of Siruis’ wand, transfigured Remus’ robes into a garish rainbow pattern.
“Really, Sirius,” Remus said dryly, “try to act your age.”
“I’ll have you know I’m very mature,” Sirius replied, grinning as he admired his friend's new rainbow robes.
…
The late summer sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the training field as Harry darted to the side, narrowly avoiding a blast of magic from Sirius. Dirt kicked up around him, but he moved swiftly, retaliating with a silent Expelliarmus that was whizzed by Sirius, grazing his shoulder.
"Close, but not close enough, Harry!" Sirius called out, grinning. He flicked his wand, sending a harmless stinging hex right at Harry’s legs, causing him to yelp and jump a foot into the air.
"Bloody hell, Sirius!" Harry shot back, panting.
"Focus! You’ll need to be quicker if you want to get the best of me," Sirius teased, circling him.
Harry's eyes narrowed, and before Sirius could react, Harry disarmed him with a perfect non-verbal Expelliarmus . Sirius's wand went flying into the air, but instead of looking surprised, Sirius beamed with pride.
"Well, that's new!" he said, retrieving his wand with a flick of his hand. "Alright, break time. I need a drink."
Harry collapsed onto the grass, sweating and breathless, though there was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve, looking up as Sirius tossed him a bottle of water.
…
In the Greengrass library, where Harry sat hunched over a stack of ancient tomes. Daphne, seated across from him, pointed out various passages in a worn-out text, her finger moving swiftly as she explained.
“Right, so this rune here—Ehwaz—represents movement or progress,” Daphne said patiently, showing Harry a series of symbols. "If you're trying to enhance a spell's speed or its fluidity, this is your go-to."
Harry, eyes heavy with concentration, furrowed his brow. “But if I mix that with Kenaz, it would—”
“—Increase the power but possibly destabilise the spell,” Daphne finished for him. “Exactly. You're getting better at this. Remember, runes are like ingredients in a potion—you need the right balance.”
Harry looked down at the notes in front of him, trying to piece everything together. His focus broke when a loud thud echoed from the other side of the room. Both Harry and Daphne turned to see Astoria had tripped over an ancient footstool and sprawled across the floor, her face bright pink.
“You saw nothing, NOTHING!” she declared, waving off their concerned looks.
Harry chuckled, shaking his head as Daphne grinned softly.
…
After what felt like another endless day of duels, spell-casting, and relentless training, Harry dragged himself up the stairs to his room at Grimmauld Place. His body ached in places he hadn’t known could hurt, his arms felt like lead, and every step sent a dull throb through his legs. By the time he reached his bed, the only thing on his mind was sleep. With a heavy sigh, he flopped down, his face buried into the pillow. The cool fabric against his skin was bliss, and he could already feel the pull of sleep trying to claim him.
Just as he began to drift off, there was a knock at the door. Harry groaned into his pillow before rolling over, reluctantly dragging himself up into a sitting position.
“Come in,” he called, his voice muffled by exhaustion.
The door creaked open, revealing Sirius leaning casually against the frame, his ever-present grin spread across his face.
“Got something for you,” Sirius said, holding up a parchment in his hand.
Harry blinked at him, trying to get his brain to focus. “Can it wait till tomorrow? I feel like I’ve been hit with a dozen Bludgers.”
Sirius chuckled, walking in and sitting on the edge of Harry’s bed. “Unfortunately not, my dear godson. You’re going to want to hear this one.”
Harry rubbed his eyes and sat up straighter, curiosity winning over fatigue. “What is it?”
Sirius handed him the parchment. “An invitation. Madam Amelia Bones Head of DMLE is hosting a late summer ball. Apparently, it’s become a bit of a tradition among some of the older magical families. She’s extended an invitation to us both.”
Harry’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “A ball?”
“Yup,” Sirius replied, clearly amused by Harry’s reaction. “And before you ask, yes, you’ll have to dress up. No getting out of it. Fancy robes, formalities—the whole shebang.”
Harry stared at the parchment in disbelief. “And she wants me to go?”
“She specifically asked for you. Madam Bones has quite a bit of respect for what you’ve accomplished—between the Triwizard Tournament and everything else.” Sirius leaned back, resting his hands behind his head. “It’s a chance to mingle with some of the more influential members of our world. Could be good for you, especially with everything that’s coming. And, honestly, it wouldn’t hurt to have a night of fun, right?”
Harry groaned. “Fun? Sirius, I’ve been doing nothing but training and studying all summer. I’m not exactly up for… well, dressing up and mingling.”
“I thought you might say that,” Sirius said, his grin widening. “But think of it this way—at least it’s not another duel with Moody. Plus, you might meet some interesting people. Important connections.”
Harry rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the soreness still lingering from the day’s intense sessions. The idea of a ball was about as far from his current mood as possible. But then again, it wasn’t like he got many chances to attend events like this. And Sirius did have a point—if Madam Bones herself had invited them, it was probably a good idea to accept.
“Fine,” Harry sighed, flopping back onto the bed. “But if I trip over my robes, I’m blaming you.”
Sirius laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Deal. Now, get some rest. We’ll have to find you something appropriate to wear. Don’t worry—I’ll make sure you look sharp.”
As Sirius headed for the door, Harry called after him, “Wait, who else is going to be there? Anyone I know?”
Sirius paused in the doorway, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll see some familiar faces. Some you might even like.”
As Harry lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, Sirius’s words echoed in his mind: “Some you might even like.”
He couldn't help but wonder who Sirius had meant. His first thought was Ginny—she had become one of his closest friends, after all. Lately, there had been a different kind of ease between them, one that hadn’t been there before now that she appeared to get over that awkward crush. Her presence at a formal event like this wouldn't be unwelcome, but still, it didn’t seem likely she'd be at a gathering hosted by Amelia Bones unless, perhaps, she came along with her brothers.
Hermione? Harry mused briefly. But that felt even less likely. Besides, Sirius wouldn’t be so cryptic if he was just talking about one of his best friends.
Could it be someone from the DA? Luna and Cho flickered through his thoughts. Luna, though loyal and kind, was hardly someone Sirius would tease him about. And thinking of Cho? That made him cringe. After the whole Madam Puddifoot’s disaster, he wasn’t sure he could survive another encounter like that without hiding under his invisibility cloak.
His thoughts drifted unexpectedly to Daphne Greengrass. They’d spent more time together than he ever would have imagined over the summer, working on runes. The cool, distant air she had during their school years had softened a bit—at least toward him. They had become… well, not quite friends, but friendly.
She was sharp and focused, undeniably clever, and beneath her composed exterior was something more than met the eye. A few times, he'd caught himself thinking about her when they weren’t studying—her honey-blonde hair catching the light just so, the piercing blue of her eyes when she was concentrating. Her pale skin always seemed so smooth, so flawless. But was that who Sirius meant?
He shook his head, chuckling under his breath. No. That’s ridiculous. Surely, it wasn’t her. Sirius is probably just winding me up
…
The late afternoon sun filtered into Sirius’s room the next day as Harry stood in front of a full-length mirror, holding up various sets of robes that he, Sirius, and Remus had bought for him earlier that summer. The pile of new clothes lay strewn across the bed, while Sirius leaned casually against the wardrobe, an unmistakable smirk on his face.
"You know," Sirius began, holding up a sleek, dark set of dress robes, "this one might just catch the eye of a certain blonde witch. What was her name again? Oh, right—Daphne Greengrass."
Harry groaned, feeling his ears heat up. "Sirius, we've been through this. She’s just been helping me with runes. That’s it."
Remus, comfortably seated in the armchair with a book on his lap, chuckled. “Just runes, is it? Still, doesn’t hurt to make an impression, especially at a high-society event like this. Who knows what opportunities could arise?”
Harry shot Remus a look, his exasperation clear but good-natured. “Look, I know she’s—well, yes, she’s pretty. But it’s not that simple. If I’m seen getting too friendly with someone from a family like the Greengrass, people might start asking questions. And if the wrong people find out we’re even remotely on good terms..."
Sirius’s teasing grin faded. He pushed off from the wardrobe, crossing his arms as his expression grew serious. “You’re right. Can’t risk that. The Greengrasses walk a fine line of neutrality. We can’t afford to put them in the firing line.” He sighed, his teasing tone gone. “I was just having a bit of fun.”
Harry glanced down at the robes in his hands, shifting awkwardly. “I know,” he muttered, trying to lighten the mood. “But with everything going on, I don’t want them getting hurt.”
Remus, observing the exchange quietly, allowed a fond smile to touch his lips. “You’re wise beyond your years, Harry,” he said gently. “Not many your age would be thinking about the bigger picture like that. Especially with a pretty girl involved”
Harry shrugged, slipping on a simple but well-tailored robe. “Just trying to stay out of trouble.”
Sirius laughed, clapping Harry on the shoulder. “Stay out of trouble? When’s that ever worked out for you, eh?” He took a step back, inspecting the robe Harry had chosen. “But you know... you can’t attend without a date, can you?”
“Do I have to?” Harry asked a slight groan in his voice.
“Well, no," Sirius mused, "but if you show up as a bachelor, you’re fair game for every witch in attendance. And unless you fancy spending the night fending them off, I’d recommend bringing someone.”
Harry grinned, shaking his head. "Right, because that's exactly what I need. Fending off hordes of witches."
Sirius smirked and nudged him. "Unless that's what you want, you dog, you. I see that Chosen One title has worked wonders"
“Oh, Merlin, no!” Harry laughed, his cheeks flushing at the idea.
Suddenly, the door burst open and Tonks spun into the room with theatrical flair, her hair shifting from bright pink to a striking blonde. “Then you’ll come with me!” she declared with a mischievous grin.
Sirius and Remus both rolled their eyes, but Harry couldn’t help but smile.
“Aren’t we related?” Harry asked, half-joking, though a little thrown off.
“Barely!” Tonks retorted with mock offense, placing a hand on her chest as if wounded. “And that’s your first question when a lovely witch such as myself offers to take you to a ball?”
Harry grinned wider. “I suppose I am honored.”
Sirius leaned against the wardrobe, arms crossed. “Dearest niece, aren’t you a little old for Harry here?”
Tonks huffed in mock indignation, her hair flashing a fiery red. “Well, I see where Harry gets his gentlemanly manners from!”
Before Sirius could respond, Harry cut in. “I would be honored to go with you, Tonks,” he said, smiling at her.
Tonks beamed, her hair transforming into longer, flowing blonde locks, and her blue eyes adopted a dreamy expression as she dramatically swept across the room. “Oh, you flatter me, young sir,” she jested, twirling with a flourish. She gave Harry a thoughtful look, her fingers tapping her chin. “You know, I’m thinking green. Something green, and I’ll match.”
“Not red? And you’ll have to forgive my dancing skills, I’m afraid,” Harry replied, a teasing smile playing on his lips.
“Or the glares you get from witches,” Sirius added, an impish grin spreading across his face.
“No, not red, my dear Harry! And dancing lessons it will be—you’ve got a few days yet! As for the witches, don't worry, I can take them,” Tonks shot back with a playful wink before spinning on her heel and sweeping out of the room, leaving the three men in silence.
Harry stood there, still processing the whirlwind that was Tonks. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”
Sirius chuckled, shaking his head. “Yes, yes, you are, Harry.”
Remus laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “But you’ll survive. Hopefully.”
“Voldemort would never live it down if a woman killed you before he did,” Sirius added with a mischievous grin, pulling out more robes and holding them up for Harry’s inspection.
Harry smirked at the thought, then turned to his godfather, a question bubbling to the surface. “What about you, Sirius? Got your eye on anyone?”
For a brief moment, something flickered in Sirius’s eyes—an emotion too quick to catch—and then he froze before smiling. But it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Er, no. Not at the moment,” he replied quietly, his gaze drifting back to the dress robes he was holding.
Harry turned to Remus, seeking confirmation, but all he received was a sad smile from the older wizard.
“Marlene was her name,” Sirius continued after a pause, his voice low. “She was killed in the first war, along with her whole family. A lovely woman that the world lost too soon.” The memory seemed to hang in the air, heavy and haunting, as Harry watched Sirius wrestle with it.
Feeling the weight of the moment, Harry reached out and touched Sirius’s arm, offering comfort. “I’m sorry, Sirius,” he began, genuine concern etched on his face.
“Don’t be, you didn’t know, Harry,” Sirius replied, a hint of sadness in his voice. “It’s just... sometimes the past creeps up on you when you least expect it.” He sighed, shaking off the moment like water from his hair. “But let’s focus on the here and now, shall we? You’re the one who needs to look good for the ball.”
“Perhaps the green robe?” Remus interjected, clearly eager to help shift the mood. “It matches Harry’s eyes quite nicely. A black waistcoat would finish it off perfectly.”
Harry held up the emerald robe, considering it. “Yeah, I think I like this one.” He looked back at Sirius, who was now wearing a more thoughtful expression.
“Good choice,” Sirius said, nodding appreciatively. “You’ll turn some heads in that, especially once you’ve got some dancing lessons.” His grin returned, brighter this time.
“Thanks, I guess I’ll have to get my dancing shoes on,” Harry replied, the tension from before beginning to lift as he slipped into the robe.
As Harry admired his reflection in the mirror, adjusting the collar of the green robe, Sirius leaned against the doorframe, his expression turning serious again.
“Now, about this ball,” he began, folding his arms. “It’s not just a social gathering. The late summer ball hosted by Amelia Bones is a chance for families to gauge the current political landscape, especially with everything that’s been happening lately.”
Harry turned, curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”
Sirius sighed, his brow furrowing. “There are a lot of neutral parties that will be attending—families trying to keep their heads down. They don’t know who is fully supporting Voldemort at this time, so it’s essential to be careful. Everyone will be watching.”
“Like who?” Harry asked, his interest growing.
“The Greengrass, for starters,” Sirius said. “But you know about them”
Harry nodded.
“Good. Just remember, they’re walking a tightrope. Any misstep could jeopardise their position,” Sirius cautioned. “Then there’s the Yaxley family. They’re not quite as neutral as the Greengrasses, but they haven’t outright declared for Voldemort either. More like opportunists, really. Though I imagine they will throw their lot in with the Dark Lord”
“Voldemort isn’t winning though, he took a blow at the ministry” Harry frowned, recalling the Yaxleys’ reputation.
“True enough but the darker families are … hoping for his victory so they’ll side with him if the right shift happens, which is why it’s best to tread lightly around them.” Sirius’s expression darkened. “There are also families like the Longbottoms and the Abbots, who are firmly in the Order’s camp, but we have to be careful about who we associate with at the ball. Just being seen in the wrong company could raise eyebrows.”
“What about the Bones family?” Harry asked, after the first war he wondered if they would declare for the order or stay out of it.
“Amelia Bones is solid,” Sirius confirmed. “Her family has always been opposed to Voldemort from day one, however she is not fond of the order, but a law enforcement mind would naturally not like it. She’s a respected figure. Having her host this ball means there’ll be more allies present, but it also means more eyes on us.”
Remus nodded, adding, “And there are other families like the Patils and the Lovegoods, who tend to walk a fine line as well. They’re more inclined to speak their minds than align themselves too rigidly, but that makes them interesting allies. It’s complicated.”
Harry took all this in, feeling the weight of the evening ahead. “So, it’s not just a party; it’s a political statement?”
“Officially, no it's a party ahead of the new school year and Wizengamot sessions, unofficially it's exactly that, politics” Sirius replied. “And while it’s important to have fun, we also need to be mindful of how we present ourselves. If the wrong people see you getting too close to someone like Daphne, it could create complications. For her and her family”
Harry sighed, feeling the pressure building. “Great. Just what I needed. So do I just ignore them?”
“No that would likely raise questions as well”
“So what, say hi, give them a hand shake and walk off?”
“Something like that” Remus chuckled.
“Hey,” Sirius said, stepping forward to clap Harry on the shoulder again, “you’ll be fine”
“Easy for you to say,” Harry muttered, his heart racing at the thought of mingling with all those powerful families.
“Just keep your wits about you. We’ll be there too, and we’ll help you navigate it all,” Remus reassured him, his voice calm and steady.
Harry nodded, feeling a little more at ease. He could handle this, especially with Sirius and Remus by his side. “Okay, I’ll try.”
“That’s the spirit!” Sirius said with a grin, clearly eager to lighten the mood again. “Now, let’s get you ready to charm those neutral parties—after all, you have a dance to perfect!”
“Just make sure Tonks keeps her hands to herself?” Remus said flatly.
“You really think I can control that?”
……
Let me know what you think.