Making plans and learning things
Harry was relieved when Professor Flitwick opened the door and smiled at them. At least he was in his office. Maybe he would offer to help…oh.
“I’m sorry, Professor, we can come back another time. Good morning, Professor Babbling, Madam Pince.”
“No please, come in. We were just talking about you actually.”
Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. That was…strange.
“Really? We just wanted to ask for help.”
“You do know that the Professors are not allowed to help you with the Tournament?”
“Yes, I do, but I’m…not here because of that. I wanted to ask for training to prepare for Voldemort…uhm, I mean to be able to protect myself from the very dangerous fugitive Sirius Black. He clearly wants me dead and is not being framed by bloody Peter Pettigrew.”
In the background, Professor Babbling snorted loudly…before realising that Potter meant the latter half of his statement completely seriously.
“Wait, really?”
Hermione groaned.
“Yes, really. Gosh, doesn’t the Headmaster share important facts with his staff?”
Once the two students were seated in the office with a cup of tea, Filius spoke up.
“So, you said you wanted to ask for help. Why me?”
Harry looked at Hermione, still uncertain about her reasoning as well.
“Okay, first off, we had two names on our list. Yesterday, after no one decided to step up for Harry, I began making a plan. We couldn’t do all the studying and preparing on our own, so we would need help. The Headmaster, no matter how much he acts like a saviour, doesn’t have a good track record on helping and didn’t do anything against Harry participating or making a public statement. Neither did Professor McGonagall. Professor Snape doesn’t make a secret out of his hatred for Harry, and Professor Sprout seemed quite upset at Harry for stealing Cedric’s thunder. Moody, while an Auror and the only person to back Harry yesterday, is only here as a favour to Dumbledore. That just gives me a bit of an uneasy feeling, and simply learning curses isn’t a solution. Brute force alone won’t help. So, then we have Hagrid, another one of Dumbledore’s followers, and aside from his knowledge about magical creatures he doesn’t really have any qualifications to teach us. Binns, Trelawney and Burbage…well, I think that is self-explanatory. I don’t think Arithmancy would do us much good either. You, Professor Flitwick, were on top of the list. You like Harry, are not as biassed as other staff members and are a former duelling champion. Professor Babbling, on whose office we stopped on our way from the grounds, became the number two on the list. Runes’ practical application in combat situations and other dire moments are so versatile. Fire resistance runes, night vision or traps for example. Besides, you barely know Harry and there’s a chance for you to not be influenced by other professors’ biases. And lastly, Madam Pince mentioned you among other very impressive names this morning. It’s often overlooked how powerful you actually are.”
Harry held back some disagreement over Moody, but mainly because he found the Auror cool. Maybe he was biassed, and he was Dumbledore’s ally on top of that. That aside, he completely agreed with Hermione. And it seemed, as if all the others did too. Irma Pince smiled at Hermione, probably because of her smart reasoning and ambitious planning.
Then Professor Babbling spoke up.
“You know, until now I thought you didn’t take my class because you thought you were better than that. I studied for my mastery under your great-grandfather Henry, and he was a genius regarding potions and runes. I always expected you to have his books and notes, but I now assume you’re not magical-raised?”
“No, my mother’s sister and her terrible husband and son care for me - apparently because Dumbledore insists on it. Don’t know why, though he did mumble something about her blood protecting me once. Anyway, they’re…not the most caring relatives, told me Mom and Dad died in a car accident and it took Hagrid delivering my letter to tell me the truth. I have literally no knowledge about my family.”
“But surely Gringotts…”
Harry shook his head before Professor Flitwick was able to finish the sentence.
“I was with a teller, Hagrid showed him my key and we picked up some money. After that Molly Weasley insisted on doing the shopping because the Headmaster gave her my key.”
In a snarling tone Professor Flitwick let out a series of strange guttural sounds - it was Goblin speak, something neither Harry nor Hermione understood. But the others did. Professor Babbling snorted again while Irma Pince let out a scolding “Filius!”
“Okay, before we get into any details here or discuss training, I want to make a few things clear: a wizard never gives his key away, and while Dumbledore might be your guardian, he has no right to give it to anyone else. You should’ve gotten it that day with Hagrid latest. Then, as a member of an old family, you have more rights at Gringotts. Despite every goblin war, the contracts with all Noble or Noble and most Ancient Houses were always valued. We offer banking and investing, legal services - because while wizards are good at making laws, they never bothered to train proper lawyers aside from Ministry Prosecutors - as well as inheritance issues. Since many wizards have their money, trinkets and relics in their vaults, it’s simpler for us to make sure that all wills are properly followed. And lastly, because we’re denied wands and have inherent talents for warding and blood magic, we focus on those services. That includes ritual healing, curse breaking and warding as well as magical inheritance. Blood magic is good to find out all your ancestors, hidden talents passed along your bloodlines - like Parseltongue - and is also the basis for all family magics…which you probably know nothing about, I’m so sorry. Irma?”
The librarian, having listened to Filius' little rant (how he always fell into a “we” when ranting about wizards from a goblin perspective was amusing. The common assumption that he renounced his goblin heritage was so obviously wrong), nodded and began to explain the basics of family magics to the two students.
“Okay, first off, the concept of blood purity is nonsense, it’s a twisted belief based on the existence of family magics. But what is correct is that the old families, mostly those Houses dating back to Camelot and the druidic times, carry special gifts down their bloodline, mostly through the main branch. Magical gifts just find their way. The Bones family and their natural talent for battle comes from Sir Lancelot I believe. The Black madness combined with their inherent strength and power is rumoured to come from Medrawt, son of Arthur Pendragon. But again, that’s all just mythology, we have barely any verifiable documents from these times. The Potters can be traced back to Linfred of Stinchcombe, a twelfth-century wizard who invented the precursors to skele-gro and pepperup. He’s probably the inspiration for Beedle’s story “The Wizard and the Hopping Pot.” His son Hardwin Potter was the first of the name, but historians agree that they were from Emrys’ line. Potioneers, spell inventors and every now and then a prodigy in a field of magic. That was their gift.”
“Emrys? As in…”
“Yes, Miss Granger. Myrrdin Emrys, also known as Merlin. But you have to remember that we’re trying to piece together something that happened over a millenia ago. The only fact is that the gift followed Mr Potter’s line.”
“What about Parseltongue?”
Harry was remarkably calm after the revelation that his family was assumed to be descendants of Merlin, but he was curious about that talent now.
“Slytherin for sure, including the Gaunts of course. Slytherin itself is related to the Peverells, known as the three brothers. Let me tell you their story first.”
After Madam Pince read them the tale of the three brothers and explained that those were the Peverells. Then she explained that Salazar Slytherin was presumed to be Cadmus Peverell’s grandson (his mother being the daughter of Cadmus and his fiancé), while Ignotus granddaughter married Hardwin Potter about two centuries after Hogwarts’ founding (yes, Ignotus got very old, like all his Potter descendants). That meant that both Slytherin (and Riddle as a descendant) and Harry could have the gift as Peverell descendants. Or Dumbledore was right and the gift got transferred that Halloween night. A goblin blood ritual could clear up all those details.
As soon as Hermione began bombarding Madam Pince with questions, Professor Babbling and Professor Flitwick decided to tell Harry about his family. Filius told tales of Lily’s skill in Charms and how the sweet caring girl could occasionally turn into a scary, furious witch with a quickly feared temper. She always tolerated a degree of pranks, but once they got too far she could give the pranksters a dress down better than McGonagall could have ever done it. It didn’t matter if it was Peter Pettigrew turning a Slytherin first-year into a literal snake or Severus Snape dosing all of Gryffindor with a laxative potion. No one was safe. But on the other hand she was always sweet and caring, especially when it came to younger students with struggles at school or when they were homesick.
“So, wait, she was friends with Snape?”
“Yes, Harry…Mr Potter.”
“Please, Professor, you’re not teaching me right now, call me Harry.”
The Professor smiled and nodded.
“Thank you. I will do so if we’re in an informal setting - if you call me Filius. If things would have turned out differently I would have become your mother’s teacher for her mastery and an even closer family friend than I already was.”
“I…okay.”
“Thank you. Now, back to your question. Yes, Lily was friends with Severus, I even believe they knew each other from before Hogwarts. Whatever he might have felt for her, Lily cared for him like a little brother, someone to keep safe. Until he took a step too far and did something - said something - she deemed unforgivable. Sure, he was taunted by James and his group, but they always taunted each other. Neither was better there. But that’s not my story to tell.”
After Harry nodded, Filius continued to tell him stories, now about James. Born to comparably elderly parents who tended to spoil him, so he started as an arrogant prat, but soon turned into a funny, brilliant student. Him and his group tended to overdo it with their pranks on occasion, but he was always the sane one, keeping the others at bay. Since he had spent many summer holidays with his grandfather he was talented with runes and on top of that a Transfiguration prodigy. James was cheeky, but brilliant. And when he wasn’t busy pranking students or impressing teachers with his brilliant performance, then he was rather occupied with swooning over Lily Evans. Yes, it might have been a bit of an obsession, and Professor McGonagall had to take him aside and explain just how inappropriate his behaviour was by their fourth year since he couldn’t stop pestering Lily by asking her out to Hogsmeade.
James, apparently having been too oblivious of his behaviour, immediately changed for the better, now trying to win the witch’s heart over by being polite and nice to her. But that took several years, mostly because he and the Marauders didn’t stop their confrontations with Snape. Only when James and Lily were head students, Lily admitted that James wasn’t too bad and yes, by now those Slytherins they had issues with, were basically junior Death Eaters. Maybe there was some truth to what the Marauders always said. After having saved a few firsties and second year students from sixth year Slytherins, who had attacked the “mudbloods and blood traitors”, they went out together. James always joked that “if he had known that it’d just take a duel where illegal dark curses were flying to win Lily over, then he’d have organised one years back.”
Harry was smiling. Yes, his dad might have been a bit strange at times, but for the first time he actually learned something about them.
“What? You must be joking!”
They all turned their heads to Madam Pince, who stared at Hermione with disbelief. The librarian then turned her head and looked at Harry.
“Mr Potter, Miss Granger tells me you own an invisibility cloak passed down from your father’s side?”
“Yes. Dumbledore gave it back to me my first Christmas here.”
While Filius rolled his eyes (obviously Harry had an invisibility cloak…), Professor Babbling’s facial expression turned just as shocked as Pince’s.
“You know that invisibility cloaks fade after about ten years, if they’re expensive?”
“So that means I’m right and that is Ignotus Peverell’s cloak? The one from the story?”
“It seems like that, Miss Granger. But again, that’s just a story. It’s more likely the Peverells were brilliant inventors. The “deathstick” is traceable throughout history, at least for a while, but I assumed someone spread that story to make the wand feared. Now though…maybe the Deathly Hallows are real. But we’re getting off-track here, as much as that makes me curious, we have other priorities.”
Filius nodded. Irma was right, as usual.
“I think I should take Harry to Gringotts if he wants, see if the family books are in the Potter vault. I’ll give him an overview over family traditions and maybe we’ll even look at the family magics. Afterwards we can begin training. Every weekend and as many evenings he has to spare, divided between us.”
“Then you do the Duelling lessons and Bathsheda gives him a crash course on Runes, preferably based on Henry Potter’s notes if you get them. I’ll collect some additional books, whatever the restricted section has to offer, maybe go ask Cuthbert if he knows anything about past Tournaments. Maybe Miss Granger can help me with that, I haven’t had any library assistant since Marlene McKinnon. Gets you a badge, a few hours in the library to check books in and out for the students and complete access.”
To say that Hermione was ecstatic at the offer would’ve been an understatement, that much was clear.
“Brilliant idea, Irma. So, I can go contact my cousin at the bank, hopefully he can get us a portkey into Gringotts for later this afternoon if you don’t have any plans? We just need to get outside the wards to stay undetected.”
Harry, without even thinking about it, spoke up.
“Oh, let’s just take the tunnel under the statue of Gunhilda of Gorsemoor.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Oh, you don’t know about that one. Tap the hump on her statue, say Dissendium and a path opens. Slide into a tunnel and walk for about an hour to reach the basement of Honeydukes.”
“How…wait, I don’t even want to know. Sounds like a good idea, Filius. Maybe you can check in with the goblins while we get ourselves some sandwiches and I tell Mr Potter here about Henry Potter.”
So, while Filius Flitwick was having a floo call with Gringotts and Irma Pince went to file the paperwork about Hermione becoming an assistant, Bathsheda Babbling began telling the two students about Henry Potter.
Henry had been a powerful wizard, he did even manage to drive off Grindelwald once and wasn’t someone Dumbledore would have wanted to fight. No field of magic was too hard or complicated for him. The invention of Sleakeasy Potion was just a boring weekend for him for example. He was a gifted dueller, and on top of that, he had a vast amount of raw power. But his favourite area was Ancient Runes. The Potters always tended to be great with Runes, especially because their Grimoires taught them nearly forgotten languages and tricks. He was able to fluently read and use runes in eleven different languages (the best Rune Master still alive could do nine). But aside from all of that, he was a kind man, always ready to help. Fighting was a talent, yes, but not a passion. He loved peace, a cup of tea and a book.
Occasionally he went into the Wizengamot and despite his kind nature, he was a scary politician, simply because was knowledgeable and a genius regarding rhetoric. Henry advocated for muggleborn wizards and witches, protected those classified as creatures and did his best to fight corruption, but at the same time he supported wizarding traditions. Not the blood purist nonsense, but their culture. As important as muggleborns were for their society, the ancient traditions they were slowly losing were important. Rituals to protect families, family magics and all of that. All magicals would benefit from that.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, Miss Granger, you see how Samhain and Yule got replaced by muggle holidays. And while it’s important to integrate that into our society, at Yule one tended to do a ritual, blessing one and one's family for the next year. Halloween gave one the possibility to see your loved ones as a sort-of ghost for one night if you knew the rituals. And that is what we’re losing. Mostly because the neutral faction doesn’t have that much power anymore. The light side wants to completely ban all rituals and blood based magic, the dark side wants to keep all none-purebloods out and is way beyond radical.”
And while Hermione and Professor Babbling drifted off into a conversation about magical traditions and politics, Harry began to think. He had always known that his parents had been great, and that this was a legacy to live up to, but now he knew even more. Potioneers, inventors and greatly respected wizards. Damn, his ancestors had invented Skele-gro, Pepper-up and Sleakeazy’s Hair potion. He shouldn’t fail so terribly in Snape’s class. He should have chosen other electives, and he should really focus on more than just Quidditch. From now on he would strive to be better.
Just as he finished that thought, Professor Flitwick returned into his office with a smile on his face.
“We have an appointment and a portkey. My cousin Stoneclaw knows Gornuk, whose family is bound by contract to manage the accounts of House Abbott, Bones, Longbottom and Potter. We can go now, it sounded like Gornuk isn’t too happy. Something about leaving the accounts neglected. Don’t worry, I’ll help you clear that up.”
“Thanks, really. You’ll be fine, Mione?”
The witch in question raised one eyebrow and stared at the boy-who-had-dared-to-shorten-her-name and who might just turn into the boy-who-lived-no-longer.
“Very daring, Mr Potter. Though I might allow that abbreviation…maybe. Yes, I’ll be fine, Harry. But…”
“Make notes and tell you everything later. For how long have I known you by now?”
“Prat!”
Harry smiled and walked out of the room with a laughing Professor Flitwick.
“You live dangerously, Harry. Better not anger your lady.”
“She’s not…oh whatever you’re saying.”
Harry couldn’t believe that Professor Flitwick…Filius, he corrected himself, would make jokes about that now. Hermione wasn’t…she wasn’t what he meant. She was just…his best friend. A sweet and caring and wonderful and perfect and beautiful…wait. Where did that just come from? Hermione wasn’t - yes, she was beautiful, with those gorgeous eyes and her divine laughter - but he didn’t see her like that. Ron was probably having a crush on her so he shouldn’t even dare thinking… No, Ron was an idiot, and even if, Hermione had been ready to leave him behind because he was a stupid, daft prat who kept on nagging and making fun of her. He would never deserve her. Hermione was perfect.
And anyone who would claim she didn’t look gorgeous was an idiot. Not even Ginny or Cho were as stunning as Hermione…wait what? Now his thoughts were going into a completely different direction. He really shouldn’t think like that.
But it was true.
Yes sure, Ginny and Cho were hot. But Hermione was just perfect. Yes, the other two were hot Quidditch players, but that’s about it. Hermione wasn’t just beautiful, she was a perfect person.
Oh damn.
“And now?”
“Huh? Oh, sorry. I was…”
They had arrived at the statue, and Harry hadn’t even realised it. Filius just grinned.
“Oh, you have that facial expression that your father always had when Lily did something great.”
“I…I have no idea what you mean. Dissendium!”
The secret entrance opened and Filius stepped forward to look at the stone slide. Fascinating. He jumped onto the slide, and just as he was on his way down, he turned around to Harry.
“Lucky you, there’s gonna be a Yule Ball. I’ll hex you into oblivion during our training if you don’t ask her the moment it’s announced.”
With a laugh Filius slid down into the tunnel. He'd win Minerva’s betting pool on Harry’s love life. The way those two care for each other… He heard Dumbledore mention how often he would sneak out to talk to the petrified Hermione Granger during nights, and once the girl was unpetrified and stormed into the Great Hall hugging him, he knew that those two would always profoundly care for each other. If there’d be such things as soulmates (they weren’t, at least not in the magical sense with bonds and whatever), those two would be such a pair. If it’d be a sibling dynamic or rather romantic (eventually) he hadn’t known, but since the end of their third year he was rather certain of the latter. Call it intuition from a man who worked with young students for many years.
Anyway, it was just funny to see how Harry was slowly connecting the dots and understanding what was going on in his mind.
While those two were on their way towards Gringotts, Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape were sitting together in the Headmaster’s office. Hogwarts’ rumour mill was working as well as always, and so even those two knew what happened in the Great Hall this morning.
“Do you share Irma’s opinion, Albus? He really couldn’t have done it?”
“Yes. She’s rarely wrong and I’ve checked it myself as well. But you probably knew that already, didn’t you?”
“His mind was too chaotic to read clearly, I felt his fear and confusion. Anything more than that I wouldn’t dare in front of Moody.”
“True again. Lemon drop?”
“No, thank you. So what’s your plan now?”
“I don’t think I could have gotten him out of the magical contract. So he has to compete. The only thing we can do is wait and see what Tom’s plan is.”
“You’re not going to help him?”
“My hands are tied. You know the rules.”
Severus snorted. There were ways to avoid the rules, but in truth Albus just didn’t want to get involved. Whatever the Dark Lord’s plan was, he just wanted to see how it would play out. Cruel. Not that he would or could change anything. James Potter’s brat son always got himself in trouble, and it was just Lily’s blood that kept him alive. Idiot child. And even if there was anything to do, Severus had a role to play.
Albus Dumbledore was a little afraid for Harry. There was no way to change the tasks to something milder now, no one else would agree to that. Karkaroff and Maxime would scream “injustice” and Bagman wanted to see a show. Well…if Harry died, then the Horcrux was gone and the prophecy would probably count as fulfilled. If Tom did resurrect himself, there still was a chance for Harry to get hit by a Killing Curse and live, with the Horcrux getting destroyed…hypothetically. That would require Harry to give up willingly though. But it was impossible to calculate the odds without experimentation, and that wasn’t something he would or could do.
Yes, it hurt him, but there was no other way he could see. That’s why he couldn’t bear helping the kid. It’d just hurt too much, knowing that there was close to no chance for him to survive the war against Tom.
If Tom would have truly been dead, with an actual dead body to present, Albus would have fought for the kid. He kept the goblins from executing the wills of James and Lily so he could put Harry to the Dursleys. The blood wards would keep them safe from Death Eaters or Tom’s spirit and no other wizarding family would have to live with the danger of someone coming for Harry.
And Sirius…that had been a grave oversight, but one he wouldn’t rectify now. Harry wouldn’t willingly walk into a Killing Curse if there was family for him. And then he wouldn’t live at all. Keeping him alone might do the trick.
It was still painful to watch. Albus hated the situation. He hated that there was no way to remove the Horcrux and that Harry would most likely have to die. Otherwise the whole world would burn.