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Harry Evans Chapter 96: Threads of Fate
🕑 Added 2024-11-08 03:00:03 +0000 UTCIt wasn't until Monday morning that Harry bumped into Neville again. He had woken up, eaten breakfast and was heading towards the arithmancy classroom when the first-year bumped into him with blurry eyes, seemingly having just woken up as he turned the corner.
As Neville fell on his ass, Harry remained standing and looked down at the boy. Sighing and rolling his eyes, he offered a hand.
“How did the duel go?” he asked.
The brown-haired boy grasped Harry's hand and let himself be pulled up, before shiftily looking to the side, refusing to meet the older Hufflepuff's eyes.
“The duel went fine, but when is the next training session?” Neville asked.
Harry shrugged. “This Saturday again?” he proposed, at which the first year quickly nodded and seemed just about ready to rush off.
“Anything else interesting happens? Things always come to light when one travels the castle at night,” Harry recited eerily.
Neville paled, and it was at this moment that Harry did something that he perhaps shouldn't have. A small tendril of mental energy escaped his eyes as the boy looked into his.
Legilimency. A useful ability. A morally reprehensible ability. The only way he was able to justify it right now was to check on how the plot was progressing.
Harry didn't care if Draco had shown up and fought. What he did care about was the brief image of a gigantic dog with three heads snapping after Neville as he quickly ran out of a dusty room, Harley in quick pursuit.
So they found the dog and saw the trapdoor. Everything was going according to canon.
Neville nodded at Harry, agreeing that they would meet on Saturday before running off towards breakfast. Harry watched him go and wondered if everything going according to the original was a good thing.
He'd probably find out soon enough.
-/-
“This year is going to be the hardest year most of you will ever have at Hogwarts,” Professor Vector announced with her messy brown bun in place as she strode from the left to the right and back in front of the 5th years plus Harry attending her class.
A boy muttered a complaint from one of the desks in the back. “That's what every single teacher has told us recently…”
Professor Vector identified the culprit and glared at him causing him to quickly lower his eyes.
“They're telling you because it's true. There's only one of you blessed enough to be doing just one O.W.L. this year, and it's not you. This will be a tough year, you have to study hard from the beginning to attain the results you wish. A lot of your careers will demand certain grades and certain N.E.W.Ts. This is not a joke anymore,” she warned.
Her blue eyes scanned the crowd to see if everyone was taking in the message.
“Another reason why the material we will be covering will be getting harder from this point onwards is that in the last two years, we have covered the necessary basic principles of Arithmancy to now start applying it to different magical disciplines.”
A student from Ravenclaw raised their hand, making Vector call on them. “Does it mean we'll finally find out how it influences Potions?” the girl asks excitedly, her brown ponytail wagging like a dog’s tail.
The professor nodded and gave some more exact information. “The goal of the O.W.L year is to cover the basics of the way Arithmancy is applied to different magical disciplines. This year will be split up into four sections which will all be in the exam, along with all previous material we've covered in the third and fourth year. First, we will begin with the meeting point doing Arithmancy and Charms. Specifically, this will refer to the way that we can calculate the circumference of wards and the longevity of enchantments. Then right before Christmas, we will start with the relationship between numbers and transfiguration. You will receive a long homework to explore the subject primarily on your own. After coming back we will look at the longest section of application which is Potions. How to determine how much of an ingredient should go in, at which time, and sometimes, for how long. Last but not least we will discuss the applications of Arithmancy in Divination. Or perhaps, as the muggle-born amongst you might know the discipline, statistics and projections,” she explained.
Harry looked around to see that all of the students were overwhelmed by the amount of topics that they would cover this year. It made sense since for the last two years they had mostly been doing the muggle equivalent of simple equations. The jump in difficulty to application could perhaps be comparable to the leap and difficulty in muggle high schools when one went from figuring out the X in a simple equation of multiplications, additions and divisions, to having to do calculus. He assumed that the N.E.W.T year would be the equivalent of advanced Calculus.
He sighed, grateful that after he got his O.W.L in the subject he was not going to the next level. The issue was simply that while he did like it and it was useful, he was at Hogwarts where he had access to some of the best wizards and witches in their respective fields. He would rather dissect Flitwick's brain for Charms, and McGonaggals for Transfiguration than learn magic numbers.
Especially because magic numbers were something that he could very easily pursue in the future on his own.
“To that effect,” Vector continued. “Open your books on page three. We will begin with looking at the distribution principle of magical numbers when concerned with quantifying spatial relations,” she said and then the entire class descended noisily into paper-ruffling along with the occasional groan from those who were opening their class books for the first time and seeing the complex equations and relations within.
-/-
Exiting the Arithmancy classroom, Harry did not stay to chat with anyone but simply rushed off to his own devices.
He'd never managed to click very well with the fifth years that he shared the class with, which he mostly blamed on the fact that anyone who did Arithmancy was an unsalvageable nerd. Or maybe, the fifth years felt awkward talking with someone who they thought was two years younger than them.
Regardless, he had more important things to worry about today than magical numbers and the fragile egos of his peers.
Making his way as quickly as possible to the seventh floor, utilising hidden passages where one walked in on the third floor and came out on the fifth, and forgotten staircases which took only half as much time as the main stairway here, he arrived relatively quickly with one dilemma on his mind.
He’d destroyed the diary Horcrux. However, Dumbledore didn't know that he'd done so and might waste his time looking for it. Time that could have been otherwise applied. Now he needed to find a way to tell Dumbledore that he’d destroyed the diary, without revealing his identity.
It was the same issue that he'd had last year when he'd airdropped his future knowledge on the man's breakfast plate. The only thing was that he didn't know if the same method would work again because one should never expect the same strategy to work twice. Especially against someone like the headmaster.
It was when he arrived on the seventh floor that he paused in confusion at the fact that where there was usually the blank stretch of wall for the Room of Requirement, now there was already a grand wooden door set in between the bricks.
He palmed his face when he realised that since he’d given the location of the Room to Tonks at the end of last year, she was very likely using it right now.
Not thinking too much about it he simply opened the door and went inside. As he did so he was very suddenly hit with an uncomfortable sensation that he hadn't experienced in a while.
Absolute darkness enveloped him and absolute stillness descended on his ears. There was no magic in the air and the only thing he could feel was one person larger than him sitting somewhere towards the middle of the room.
It was Tonks training her magic sense in the sensory deprivation chamber. Something that he hadn't done since he’d developed the ability far enough that simply existing inside of a magical castle trained it in an efficient enough manner.
He blinked, unable to tell if the blink had been his eyelids covering his eyes or releasing them since the darkness was the same. But, the gesture was successful either way, he’d managed to moisturise his eyeballs.
Never having entered the room after someone else had already set its intention, Harry curiously touched mentally at the connection that one had with the magical construct which one generally used to tell it what one wanted. He very clearly got back the feeling that he was second in line in terms of changing the requirements of the room. Nevertheless, he didn't let that dissuade him as he used his experience and Mind Arts capabilities to wrest control of the room from Tonks. It worked surprisingly well, although at this point he was very well-versed in mental combat so perhaps that helped.
He then used his control to summon the Hat onto his head from where he’d left it, and made to leave the sensory deprivation chamber as it was.
Curiously, throughout the entire time, Tonks did not stir. She had not noticed either his presence or the fact that she had lost control of the construct.
He tutted and shook his head, the slight noise dissipating like a diving Kingfisher in a still body of water.
Idly batting away a mental probe that the hat sent his way as a greeting, he turned around and exited the room.
‘You seem stressed,’ Chanithachuah remarked once they were once again out on the seventh-floor corridor. ‘Although, it would be more of a miracle if you weren't at some point.’
‘I do have a dilemma so you've diagnosed me correctly,’ Harry admitted. ‘I have destroyed that Horcrux, but I have no good idea on how to tell Dumbledore without revealing my identity to prove that it is destroyed.’
‘Well, you have a house-elf now, don't you? I think we've learned over time how useful those can be to deliver things anonymously. Especially since this one is entirely loyal to you.'
‘You think I could have Dobby deliver it anonymously? You don't think they’ve set up defences against that considering that now we've returned you with their help twice?’
‘If you want to add another level of separation, I saw an interesting business in the mind of one of the students I sorted. Her parents own a delivery service in Diagon Alley, but instead of owls, they use two house-elves. It's faster because they can simply pop around as they wish. Also, the business seems to be not doing so well because wizards still prefer owls to follow the tradition,’ the hat explained.
“That's interesting,” Harry muttered, making his way slowly to the owlery.
He wanted to pen a letter and he felt better doing that in the place that was meant to be used as such. It had become a weird habit since he usually used the school owls to send his aunt updates on his situation. They were nice and efficient, even if one needed to bribe them now and again with small bits of food.
The student and the hat chattered away and mentally attacked each other like a pair of synchronous domestic abusers on their way to the owlery while disillusioned. During this walk, like the common thief that he was, Harry also lifted parchment and an ink pot out of the satchel of another student who walked past them unknowing that they had just been hit by, just been struck by, a smooth criminal.
Once in the owlery, Harry considered the message he was going to send while looking at the besmirched piece of parchment that he held in his hand, which had a few dicks and boobs drawn on it. He frowned.
‘This would be very unprofessional of me, wouldn’t it?’ he asked wondering what Dumbledore's reaction would be if he received the letter with such crude drawings of genitalia on it.
‘But it would be incredibly funny,’ the sorting hat remarked from the top of his head.
‘You're right,’ Harry decided and started using his telekinesis to lift the ink from the pot that he'd stolen and infuse it into the paper.
Albus, the letter started, the name switching between all the colours of the rainbow because apparently what Harry had taken had been patented Zonko's rainbow ink. The boy sighed.
I have accidentally come upon the diary Horcrux and have destroyed it. I presume that it was you who broke into Gringotts. I hope your attempt was successful.
Best wishes,
RB
‘It's not very informative is it,’ the hat remarked.
‘Something aren’t meant to be informative. This thing communicates exactly what I want, and not much more. The question is, is he gonna believe it? I mean, I’ll include the actual diary with the letter. I just hope he doesn’t think it's fake.’
‘Magical traces of objects that are not magical anymore are very difficult to detect, if not just frankly impossible. Do you think he'll be able to recognize it as a Horcrux?’ the hat asked.
‘I can't prove it any other way than letting him cross-examine my mind which I'm not going to do. So quite frankly he should just feel lucky I killed it and believe it, I guess. Also, the information I provided him was most likely true, so you know.’ Harry nodded to himself before looking around to check that he was alone. He didn't see or sense anyone.
“Dobby!” he called out, causing the immaculately dressed house to appear by his side.
“What can this loyal servant do for his master?” Dobby asked in a squeaky voice while bowing at the waist, one elegantly gloved hand clasped diagonally at his hip.
“Can you bring me the destroyed diary from the cave?” Harry asked, at which the servant nodded and popped the way again.
He appeared barely a second later with the destroyed black diary in his hand. Harry took it and observed it with his magical sense. There was a hole punched right through it. He telekinetically opened the first page struggling a bit against the paper that had been stuck together by the kinetic force which had destroyed the object.
Thankfully the killing curse had spared the signature of Tom Riddle brazenly written on the inside.
“That should serve as some sort of proof, no?” he wondered. Especially considering that since Dumbledore had been Tom Riddle’s teacher, he might very well recognize his handwriting.
“Dobby, I want you to bring this destroyed diary and this letter,” Harry said, holding up the two objects, “to the house-elf service at Diagon Alley at the crossing to Parish Street. Have it delivered to Albus Dumbledore.”
Dobby froze at the instructions and pulled down his wide expressive mouth, obviously aghast at the suggestion.
“Dobby shall not entrust master’s belongings to house elves uneducated in the ways of service,” he insisted loudly with a tinge of red on his face.
“You think you can manage to get this to the headmaster anonymously while making sure that he gets it?” Harry asked curiously.
“A house elf is never seen when he does not wish to be seen,” the small butler reassured him.
“That's true, they could be the most dangerous assassins in the world if they weren't bound as they are. I think he can do the job,” the hat commented.
Harry paused for a second before shrugging. He still trusted Dobby more than any other random house-elf, and if his elf told him that he could do it, he chose to believe him. The hat was also a more experienced adventurer than Harry, so he trusted his opinion on the matter.
“All right Dobby, I entrust you with this mission. Go forth my loyal servant and fulfil your master’s orders,” Harry said haughtily, handing Dobby the two objects, after letting a powerful scourgify cleanse them of fingerprints and body oils.
The house-elf let the objects float in front of him with his hands behind his back looking entirely too serious with his long nose and black suit.
“Your will be done,” he promised, before tapping the floor once with his left foot and disappearing Without a sound.
“He's nailing the butler bit, I have to say,” Harry muttered. Maybe he should settle on some code for the house itself to evacuate him from dangerous situations. He probably wasn’t going to be learning to apparate for a while now, and even then, some places were warded against it.
Comments
FusedBump96
> unknowing that they had just been hit by, just been struck by, a smooth criminal. hahah gold!
bor902
Thanks! Harry Evans definitely has the darkest mood haha. I mean Pokeworld just isn't that depressing, and Jin is a silly goober
Josef Blumers
Cynical
Green0Photon
> like a pair of synchronous domestic abusers I love this specific type of dark humor that often fills your descriptions, in such a nonchalant blink it and you'll miss it way. Your other stories have something similar but a bit lighter, but I enjoy the description for this story the most.
