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Harry Evans Chapter 52: There ain't no rest for the wicked
🕑 Added 2023-11-28 09:30:49 +0000 UTCHarry was in his dorm, writing a letter, scratching out passages, inserting new ones, remembering all the minutiea he could remember. He wasn't writing to his family, which was the usual reason he had for writing letters while at Hogwarts. No, he was writing down his so-called future knowledge. What Voldemort's Horcruxes were, their location, how to destroy them, his theory that the man had gone completely insane from splitting his soul that often, and that a shard was likely to be found in the iconic scar resting on Neville Longbottom's forehead. The identity of all the death eaters that he remembered the name of, and Voldemort's ability to enter an alliance with the dementors at the drop of a hat.
In a way, Harry was writing down his last will and testament. But, since he didn't really have any important objects he wanted to bequeath to anyone, he was leaving behind information that he didn't want to die with him.
He'd been hiding from the possible contribution he could have had in the battle against Voldemort with what he knew. Hiding behind his fear, that he would be somehow recruited into the battle. Hiding behind the excuse that he first needed to profit from the room of requirement by himself.
Well, the age of profiteering was coming to an end.
The hat was well and truly stolen for the year, something only possible with the room's help. Next year, Harry likely wouldn't need its assistance anymore, as the hat had told him that he was approaching a level of occlumency impenetrable by most. It had been a long and arduous journey, made much easier by the meditative practices he'd mastered before even getting to Hogwarts.
The duelling dummy, similarly, was reaching the end of its usefulness. It was only really an aid for the completely amateur and he was slowly improving to the point where he didn't need it anymore. Especially as he would soon be getting private instruction from a former champion, which was likely more important to his development than the assistance of an enchanted block of wood.
Closing his eyes and leaning back, he felt the enchantments woven into the stone and the way the heavy magic of Hogwarts contrasted against the weak magic present in some of the stuff that his year-mates brought with them from home. His magic sense was approaching a point where he could safely start distinguishing between magic he wanted to be in contact with and magic that he wanted to avoid.
In summary, while the room of requirement had been incredibly helpful in his quick development into someone with advanced knowledge and ability, he was approaching a point where its assistance was not going to be indispensable for his development as a wizard anymore.
This was why he was willing to relinquish knowledge of its existence in the letter he'd just written. Today, after his meeting with Flitwick, he was going to loot the room of lost things for all that it was worth, hiding his ill-begotten gains in another part of the castle. He was taking a lot of precautions for simply being in the same room as a horcrux, considering that in the books it had never seemingly bothered anyone, content to simply sit there. But safety was paramount, and it was because of this horcrux’s inactivity that he was daring to do what he was planning on doing anyway.
If he nonetheless died or was hurt in the attempt, the letter would find its way to Dumbledore. If he survived and managed to get away with the loot, the letter would similarly find its way to Dumbledore, so that the man could go remove the diadem.
In a way, Harry was washing his hands of the whole thing, by giving up all the information he had. Perhaps it was selfish of him to have done so only now, in his second-year, when he had a professor he would rather keep on the roster, but he was making decisions that could potentially have far-reaching consequences. For all that he had judged the decisions of novel protagonists in the past, now that he was himself at the steering wheel, his life and the life of others on the line, his mind was as jittery as a block of jello and his sense of morality was doing back-flips in his intestines. He was too stressed, afraid, and afflicted to make a good decision. But the time had come to make a decision. Inaction was its own action, and the information he had was much more likely to help Dumbledore, than to hinder him in some manner.
He sealed the letter and laid his wand on the edge of where it closed. Spells alighted from his wand, spells he'd specifically sought out to keep information secret. He stood up from the desk he'd been sitting at and stretched, putting the letter in the inner pocket of his robe. He had a meeting with Flitwick now, but afterwards, he would initiate plan "money," and plan, "information of strange origin."
-/-
"Professor Flitwick," Harry greeted as he entered the charms classroom. He looked around appreciatively at the manner in which the man had put aside the desks to create an open space. Something that James always did only after Harry had arrived.
"Harry. Filius, please," the professor insisted from where he was sitting behind his desk, grading some papers. The man hopped off his chair, showing that he was dressed in tight-fitting red robes very dissimilar from his usual garb. Suddenly Harry felt underdressed in his usual black garb. Although, to be fair, he'd started wearing jogging pants and a t-shirt to his bouts with the duelling dummy. Robes in general just weren't made for jumping around and sliding on the floor.
"Filius, then," Harry corrected himself, as the two naturally gravitated towards the middle of the room and faced each other. For the moment, not in a duel, but simply a metre apparent, to discuss.
Filius looked his student up and down. "Do you think I've never noticed how much you hold back some things that you know?" the man suddenly asked.
"Excuse me?"
"You cast with incantations when we both know you could do without, you hide the fact that you somehow managed to learn a basic level of occlumency and quite frankly, I'm fairly sure someone of your skill-level should be able to manage some wandless magic," Filius elaborated.
Harry stood rooted to his spot and began sweating in place. This wasn't necessarily how he'd expected the conversation to go. While he hadn't necessarily hid that he could do some stuff word-lessly, and Penny herself had witnessed some of his sorcery on their summer vacation together, he hadn't thought anyone had noticed that he knew occlumency.
"What gave me away?" Harry asked with a sigh and sat down on the floor, defeated.
"I've seen you do wordless occasionally, obviously. The occlumency becomes a good guess when one considers your maturity and emotional control. It's the sign of someone who's practised the mind arts. There are always rumours floating about how the higher stages of occlumency grant the user the ability to have several thought streams at once, have a perfect memory and be able to think more quickly. While all of this is exaggerated, the mind is a muscle, and exercising it gives benefits," Flitwick explained.
"Wandless magic?" Harry queried, at which the small man shrugged.
"Nobody that has so much talent, has not exercised magic in their youth. Since you obviously didn't have access to a wand and I know your mother was buried with hers, you must have practised without one," Flitwick explained.
A grimace. "You were at my mother's funeral?" he asked.
"Me, Professor Slughorn, Professor Potter and Mr.-; invisible, in the corner. Ashamed," Filius said gently with a far-away look in his eye.
"It's partially because of my mother that I hide what I can do," Harry said bitterly. "Occlumency might help me prevent obliviation, wordless magic helps me react faster if I'm ever ambushed, and sorcery," he said as he brought up a hand and lit up a small flame in the middle of his palm, "means I'm not completely helpless if I lose my wand." He stopped speaking for a moment, before pulling out the bezoar necklace that he always wore, shoving it in the direction of the slightly teary-eyed professor. "If I'm ever poisoned," he explained.
"It always breaks my heart to know that for some students Hogwarts isn't a place that represents safety, but rather danger," the man whispered and dabbed at his eyes with a sleeve after taking off his glasses.
"Considering everyone is running around with a potentially deadly weapon, it's remarkably safe. Ollivander once said that magic is capable of great things, just that great can either mean good, or terrible. Nonetheless, it is great," Harry said.
"Perhaps, but I think that we as a society are much too cruel, sometimes," Filius said with a sad smile. “A consequence of rather incredible levels of ignorance I'm afraid."
"Whatever, people will be people and I mean that in the most derogatory way possible," Harry scoffed. "Why did you bring it up, Filius?"
The professor shook his head slowly, "I can't teach you if I don't know what you're capable of. Just the fact that you do indeed know some occlumency changes the direction our instruction could take."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked curiously.
Filius considered for a moment, before giving a more elaborate explanation. “There are basics that all duellists must know. Stances, attacking, defending, dodging. However, all duellists worth their salt also have a specialty that falls outside of these categories. Those who know occlumency for example, can train themselves to act incredibly calmly in a duel, erasing all tells of what they're going to do through their slightly more refined control of their mind and therefore body. I used my small stature to become very good at dodging, since my opponents had a hard time aiming at me anyway, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm quite short,” the man joked.
"I'm alright with sharing, as long as everything stays between us. I reserve the right to not use a strategy in the circuit if I think I have to keep it in reserve for life-saving purposes," Harry muttered, after having mulled the thing over. There was a loss there, if other people got a whiff of everything he was capable of. But, if someone competent like professor Flitwick helped him further all his competencies, the growth in skill should offset the loss of secrecy.
"Good, I promise whatever you tell me won't leave this room," Filius promised.
Harry nodded. "Thanks, Filius. As for my skills, I guess I can only list them. I'll preempt it by confirming that I know occlumency, and there is a spell you think is important enough for me to learn to do wordlessly, I can do it."
"I'll refrain from asking how you learned occlumency."
“Thank you.”
"Well, anyway, it would be better if you simply did all the spell we'll be using wordlessly. The only situation in which it's better to use the incantation is if you need some extra power to break down a shield. But even in those cases, it's better to use the time not speaking saves to send two instead of one spell. Spells that require emotion as fuel often are harder to say silently, so just shout the expecto patronus if you meet a dementor."
"Will do," Harry promised.
"Go on," Flitwick prompted.
"Well, other than that it's just a list of spells. I guess I could mention that I found an enchanted dummy to practise against. I've gotten decent at dodging, having a stance, casting quickly," Harry admitted, deciding to air all his not so dirty laundry.
Flitwick didn't look all too pleased at the dummy part, but bid him to continue.
"Other than that I just know a bunch of spells. Bombarda, incendio aquamenti, expelliarmus, flipendo, protego…" he trailed off. "I also know the common jinxes, and finite, as well, I can do it wandlessly," he said. Flitwick's eyebrows rose into his hair-line at that last admission, and he quickly summoned a sheet of paper into his hand and charmed it to be red.
"Show me," he demanded as he handed it to Harry.
Harry looked at the red piece of parchment and frowned as he felt inside it with his magical sense. It was stronger than the charms he usually practised the annulment spell against. Which made sense of course, considering the charm had been cast by a professor. However, what that meant was that he wasn't completely sure that he could dispel it. Deciding to give it his all nonetheless he concentrated and channelled his magic. Releasing it in a powerful burst at the paper, he succeeded, but not in the way he wanted to. Rather than exploding the charm that had been cast on the parchment, his finite rather turned it an ever weaker shade of red, before the coloration disappeared entirely. The whole process took around ten seconds, and left only one of the two participants in the spectacle impressed.
"Well, you'll be glad to know that you showing me that particular wonder has already paid off with letting go of your secrecy," Flitwick said happily with a far-away look in his eyes.
"Really, professor?" Harry asked, with some doubt.
"Of course. Almost nobody in the duelling circuit knows any wandless magic, let alone a spell as useful as finite. Ignore for the moment the variety of attacks you've learned. The disarming charm and bombarda are all that you'll need. One for precision strikes, capable of ending the duel if it lands, the other, a loud attack that can be used to batter shields. You'll need protego sometimes, sure, but usually putting up a shield means that you lose. Duels are fast-paced with no time for defence. No, the bread and butter of any good duellist is spell-deflection," Filius explained.
"I read about it, but there were no instructions. What is spell deflection?" Harry asked, thinking about the hours he'd spent researching duelling as a sport before he'd decided on the routine that he'd used to train up until today.
Filius nodded. "Spell deflection is the technique of creating a little finite bubble at the tip of your wand and using it to bat away an incoming spell. It's incredibly difficult. Usually finite would not be powerful enough to bat away most spells, but, by attuning it specifically to the spell one wants to deflect, it manages. More specifically, it dissolves the component of the incoming spell which determines its trajectory, therefore, the direction that you batted it away becomes its new direction. Naturally, if you harm the spell matrix too much the spell dissolves, but with sufficient mastery you can even send it back at your opponent."
"Sounds like a powerful way to regain the momentum, if you ever lose it," Harry muttered.
"Or to prevent your opponent from ever gaining it," Filius amended.
"But what does that have to do with it being at an advantage, it's a well-known technique," Harry questioned.
"Well," Filius began, " forming a finite bubble at the tip of one's wand is obviously the easiest place to put it. However, one could technically also bat away a spell with one's free hand, if one knew how to cast it wandlessly of course," he explained and it became clear to Harry.
"The opponent wouldn't know if I'm dodging or sending it back, or what I'm doing. Not only could it be an immediate game-changer, but it could also put them completely off their game," he mused. "But it would only work once," he determined.
Filius nodded, "It's still a clear advantage, even without the surprise factor. But I would definitely save it for an important duel. A trick like that could end up clinching the championship one day. What other wandless magic do you know?" the man asked at which Harry could only shrug.
"I know how to cast scourgify without a wand. Probably not that useful. A bit of fire, a bit of water and some telekinesis," he admitted.
"You do terrify me, Harry," Filius said cheerily as he whipped back and forth on his heels. "I try to hide the feelings of inadequacy and fear under enthusiasm for your future however."
"I don't know what to say to that. One of the reasons I didn't tell anyone is also because I don't want people to treat me differently," he said.
"Ah, it was mostly a joke, don't worry about it!" Flitwick exclaimed. "Well, it is what it is. Do show me the extent of your wandless magic and let me be the judge if it would be of any use."
Harry then proceeded to demonstrate a weak fire-ball which would probably give someone first-degree burns at most. His hydrokinesis was likely only useful for drenching paper, unless he used it to create an ice-ball that he could chuck at people. It was at his telekinesis, which he used to throw a book violently against a wall, before retracting it and making it hover above his hand that Flitwick again nodded approvingly.
"Pyrokinesis is actually the most common wandless magic seen in duels, mostly by those with veela heritage, most good duellists won't be too surprised. The second most common is telekinesis, but it's undoubtedly very useful. You can block a physical projective without using your wand, thus allowing you to retaliate faster," he explained.
"I've started work on creating a swarm of hornets to send at someone as well," Harry mused.
"Wandlessly?" Filius asked with wide eyes, but Harry only shook his head.
"No, with a wand," he amended.
"Ah, well, I'm sure it will be useful once you figure it out, but quite frankly, transfiguration isn't my area of expertise, so while I can help you integrate it into your style once you master creating the swarm, I can't really help you on the way there," the professor said, before clapping loudly. "Anyway, I'm all excited now, so why don't we get to it, a little practice duel to see where you're at, and then we can work on spell-deflection. It's a must have, and the earlier you learn it the quicker you'll be good at it."
The two of them walked away from each, and it was at this point that Harry realised that he might have bitten off more than he could chew.
Because for all that he'd been having a zoo sent at his ass by James every now and again, and for all that he'd faced Tonks, the duelling dummy and almost certain death last year at the hands of Twix… Standing in front of a duelling champion when about to duel was another feeling entirely.
While Flitwick might have been small, and Harry had to look down from where he was standing opposite the man, the presence he exuded was quite frankly, insane. Metaphorically, Harry felt like he was facing a giant. There was no gap in the man's loose stance with the wand unerringly pointed at Harry, seemingly following even the movement of his chest expanding as he breathed.
"I will conjure a pebble in the middle, once it hits the floor, we start," Filius said and when Harry nodded, having readied himself, the pebble appeared.
Gathering up his magic and will, Harry sent a wordless expelliarmus at his instructor with all his might. Only for Flitwick to lightly hop to the side of the red-beam and send one of his own, twice as fast. Harry barely managed to duck, and deciding that all cards were on the table anyway, he sent a storm of fire at the small man. It didn't seem to faze Filius, for all that Harry couldn't see him. And for all that it was him in the middle of a scorching blaze, it was Harry who became pressured, as barely visible off-white spells came flying at him from inside the fire. Dropping the spell to throw himself to the ground, thus avoiding the spells, which had been aimed at his torso, he sent off a bombarda at where he assumed Flitwick's feet were.
A small explosion rocked the class-room, but Flitwick walked out of the dying embers and the dust of obliterated stone as if he were taking a scenic walk along the Seine. Despite his seeming relaxation, a slew of spells, white, red and yellow were sent Harry's way. Rather than trying directly to hit him, they seemed to travel at different speeds which caused them to arrive in front of him all at once, creating such a wide net that he was unable to dodge and had to put up a shield.
"Protego!" he cast desperately, barely weathering the storm, which felt like repeated hammer-blows to his shield.
"Shielding means you lose mobility and momentum. Do avoid doing so against a more experienced opponent," Flitwick said and slashed down his wand. The spell that came out was invisible, but Harry could feel the gigantic wave of sheer pressure flying towards him. There was no dodging this, he realised, and poured all his magic into his shield. So much that it turned a bright blue. However, no matter how powerful a wooden structure, it would never survive a napalm bomb. His shield shattered into tiny splinters which glittered as they disappeared into the air. The force disappeared with it, but a barely visible red-spell ripped his wand from his hand as he felt the backlash of losing the shield.
Filius caught Harry's wand and walked over to the boy-who-sat-down-because-he-was-breathing-hard. He offered his student the wand, handle first, which Harry gratefully took.
"Lay it on me, Filius, I know that improvement can only come through critique, I'm not a prideful creature," Harry said with a sigh as he saw the man hesitate. Perhaps a real genius would have lost their shit at the tear-down that was about to happen, but Harry's ego had long been destroyed by a variety of professors in his last life. Despite his pathetic showing he was now the most dangerous opponent of all. The one able to not care emotionally about critique, but capable of integrating it into his attempts to become better.
"Well," Filius started, "you obviously weren't able to show me everything due to how difficult the opponent, but I would say there isn't a single fifth-year at Hogwarts capable of facing you in a duel. Especially with the storm of fire, the untrained have no real answer to that. However, you're still at the level that when facing the trained duellists you will find at the tournament, you will need to rely on luck to even pass the preliminaries."
Harry looked down with a sigh. "Well, I guess that's fair for someone with no formal training, good even," he muttered.
"As for what we have to work on, perhaps saying that we should focus on spell-deflection first was a bit ambitious," Flitwick winced. "You abandon your stance too easily, and you don't keep it very well while moving. Perhaps we should work on that first, using only single-target spells and then see what's next."
"How did you make the spells travel at different speeds, so that they all reached me at once?" Harry asked as he stood up to face Flitwick again.
"Practise," the man said and they began.
It was gruelling, every now and again Filius called a stop, walked over and corrected Harry's form.
However, it was also rewarding, and by the time two hours had passed, Harry thought that he'd received a similar amount of value from the lesson as he had from practising against the duelling dummy for the last six months. Which was to be his home-work, practising the stances and his movement ability.
Tedious, but necessary.
With legs that felt like jelly Harry said goodbye to the professor. He wished that he could simply go to his dorm and sleep the pain away, but he had a letter to hand over, and a room to loot. Indeed, there was no rest for the wicked.
