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blankdblank · 5 years

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Anaticula Pt 12

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 -

Hopping through the halls towards the great hall Neville grinned seeing you beside the twins with Professor Tennant eyeing the youngest of the Crabbe and Goyle lines trailing after Draco, who was pulling Hermione along with him to keep the buys from being able to hide the hexed note they had in her bag. Along the corner Harry stumbled through excitedly with Ron and his dorm mates Dean and Seamus behind him, both who froze eyeing you and your hair as it darkened from silvery blue to midnight blue. A final hop was taken and Neville was inches from you exposing the root bulb in his clasped fist he showed you, “Jaqi, do you still have some of that Halfsparing Dew?”

You nodded and shifted your bag on your shoulder as Draco grabbed Hermione’s he hugged over his chest with a determined furrow of his brows at the growing number of Slytherin students. All of whom being eyed by Percy, who apparently been in on this from the start at his calm demeanor while Snape came into the hall, head tilted curiously as he eyed the situation. Passing over the green glass bottle with a stopper in the lid you watched as Neville drew a pop up cup from his pocket along with a pocket knife he used to slice the root bulb open. That cut releasing the liquid inside into the cup he added two drops of your dew to before downing it to the disgusted Slytherins while Hemione chuckled at his lowering the cup and emphasized kick out of his formerly bound legs.

“I told you! I told you plants could be used to counter the Binding Charm!”

Crabbe rolled his eyes while Goyle said, “Bet he didn’t even use the full binding curse!”

Percy raised a brow, “I laid that charm myself!”

Neville passed you the bottle with a grin as he pocketed the knife and slid the cup and carved bulb into his bag as the Slytherins dispersed passing over a varied supply of sweets and trinkets to Percy as you asked, “What was all that about?”

Neville grinned up at you proudly replying, “I was looking for some cuttings for a window box in my dorm and then those two came over and tried to say Herbology was a waste of time compared to our other courses and I told them,” he wet his lips through a shiver from the foul tasting mixture, “that you can reverse a great deal of charms and hexes with just plants. Percy was nearby and agreed to cast the Binding Charm when he saw what I’d cut already.”

Another dig in your bag had you handing over a piece of palate cleansing candy for when you have to eat something you hate, “Here, for the taste. Even I can rarely stomach dew.” Your eyes dropped to his bound wrist, “What happened to your arm?”

He grinned unwrapping the candy, “Oh, broke it, had it mended, but it isn’t too awful. All I can taste is the sweet sweet victory of winning all that off that lot. No telling what I can get by years end.” Making you chuckle at his eager pop of the candy between his lips in a glance up to Professor Tennant before turning around at his look behind him spreading his grin in his rush over to Snape’s side as he brought his bag forward to say, “I hope you don’t mind, but I found some Ransom Grass, collected some of its seeds for you, caught it at the right time.”

The glass vial half full of seeds stirred a grin onto Snape’s face, “Thank you.”

Neville nodded then turned to head to the great hall, “I’ll see you inside.” A chuckle left him as he opened an enchanted pocket on his bag and Percy dumped his winnings into it and followed after him sharing more about the other plants on the grounds while Snape sent the vial to his classroom to be added to his store room later.

Your eyes turned to Ron as he blurted out, “Now that that’s over, you are not going to believe what’s happened!”

Harry chuckled, “You know that Remeberall Neville’s Gran sent him?” you nodded, “Well we got to chucking it around-,”

Your brow raised and Ron added, “Oh like he’s using it. Hates the thing. All it does is change colors, no help at all!”

Harry, “Anyways, we got into this whole thing, and then the Blaise takes it and starts flying around after Neville’s broom knocked him off. Then I go to fetch it and McGonagall sees me and drags Oliver Wood out of his class to say-,”

Ron patted his arm, “No, you’re missing the part-,”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “He’s the new Seeker.”

You smirked at the boys furrowing their brows at her for a moment before Harry repeated, “I’m the new Seeker.”

“Congratulations. Hope you study up and don’t think this means I’ll be easy on you.”

He shook his head leading Ron to the great hall to pick their seats after saying, “Hoped you’d say that.”

Your eyes shifted to McGonagall in her trot up saying, “Jaqi, Fred, George!” After a soft exhale she placed her hand on Seamus’ shoulder, who was still coated with a bit of soot around his ears he had missed cleaning from earlier, “I was wondering, if the three of you might be up for tutoring a younger student by chance, I know you’ve assisted the elder Weasley boys and Tonks with Newts. This one could certainly use some pointers, Dragon heartstring in his wand.”

The three of you answered, “Ooh, nasty bite.” In a conferencing glance you three nodded, “Sure thing.”

She grinned and patted Seamus on the shoulder, “I will leave you to set up the times. Once or twice a week should do it. Hopefully.”

Behind you Professor Tennant patted your shoulder, “Enjoy your lunch. Let me know about that list.”

You nodded and he motioned Minerva and Snape along with him leaving you to eye Seamus, who watched in awe at your hair changing back again to silvery blue as he asked, “Don’t know why she has me in tutoring already. Only one lesson.”

Dean, “Probably because you’ve nearly burned your face off.”

Seamus gave him a narrowed gaze, “I meant to do that.”

Dean laughed, “Really, well done then.”

Seamus gave a proud nod then looked to you again, “I bet you could teach me some wicked spells.”

Fred smirked and George replied, “How’s this, each week you learn your course spells-,”

Fred, “And we’ll teach one for ours.”

Seamus grinned as you said, “Shouldn’t take long to master. Merely a battle of wills.”

Seamus, “I’ll win. I’ll show you.” You chuckled and watched as he strolled past saying, “I’ll be waiting on your note for our study date.” Ending with a wink turning your head back to the others to keep from laughing at him as he mumbled to Dean, “She likes me.”

Gingerly Draco passed over Hermione’s bag after he mended the near bending metal piece holding the strap onto the bag bending at the weight of the bag, it settled on her shoulder and she grinned at Draco thanking him on their way into the lunch room you followed them into. At your table you sat down between the twins, filling your plates while listening to the first years around you a chill ran up your spine.

Slowly your now silver eyes sank to your plate as your fork sat still in your food, around you the noise muffled and warped into a slow blur. Around you the chill grew shifting into a cold bubbling liquid that pulled you through back to your former home in Godric’s Hollow. The room your mother died in formed around you, across from you was a suit clad man. In your memories you had never focused on his face, but those burning blue eyes seared into you. A rippling echo of the words that had been spoken when your mother had been propositioned. “Join me.”

Inhaling shakily as his words echoed again and again an invisible hand circled yours and with a muffled explosion the vision cut off. Keeping to their continued habit of watching after you the teachers shared a silent inspection of Quirrell, who was staring at you intently, A silent curse later and the drinks of the teacher’s table bubbled over into bright orange plumes of cotton candy and Snape shot up to his feet exhaling as he saw your eyes flicker back to green at your stirring blink, “Triplets! My Office, Now!”

Around the table he rushed and your head turned abruptly to give him a curious once over as you shot up to your feet with the help of the twins, around you the other students looked you over as you led Snape out into the hall again. He remained quiet until you were alone and the doors were shut behind you, carefully he rested his hand on your shoulder in turning you to face him. Tilting your head back he asked softly, “Are you alright?”

Your head shook and you whispered, “He was there, again. In my home.”

Snape nodded his head saying, “Let’s go to my office, we will have lunch sent in and I want to get you started on Occlumency.”

“Occlumency?”

He nodded, turning you to continue onwards again, “The magical defense of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one.”

“So, he entered my mind?”

Snape glanced at you after checking behind you again in your first turn to head down the first flight of stairs, “In the past it was often the Dark Lord's pleasure to invade the minds of his victims, creating visions designed to torture them into madness. Only after extracting the last exquisite ounce of agony, only when he had them literally begging for death would he finally... kill them.”

George, “And this Occlumency will help?”

Snape nodded, “Yes, if you study it seriously it would help to protect you. I cannot promise complete efficiency, as it is based upon your will and focus, and if in the chance of mid duel an attack was issued even the strongest minds can waver.”

Softly you replied, “Makes sense.”

Snape’s hand landed gently on your shoulder again in a calming pat and he caught your eye, “Your mind is naturally open to Legilimens. Few people are as natural at is as you. Regulus mentioned your talent lingers on a person’s fear, no doubt from your own frightful experience. I have heard of a woman who could freely hear and reply to others’ thoughts. To be so open, and a seer on top of that it is not your fault by any account this has happened.”

Through his classroom you passed and into his candlelit room packed with books around a dark desk he motioned along the wall with a wave of his hand, “An event like that leaves a mark, a tie between you both, however unwanted it is there,” another wave of his hand and a chair was set out that you sat in without order or request. In looking up at him your eyes met his in his hunch to meet your eye level patting his hand on yours folded on your lap, “But that bond can also be used in your favor as well. He will hope to link to your mind leaving himself open no doubt. Lower his defenses to draw you closer. Whether he is aware of this connection or not for the moment is unclear. If we work fast he might remain ignorant.”

An easy explanation of what was to happen came next with a simple instruction, “Clear your mind, free yourself of all emotion.” Steadily his wand was drawn and in the opening of the door behind you at his stating, “Legilimens” you heard Minerva calling out his name stirring up the memory of the first Tuesday Tea Time with Minerva after your attack. The memory faded and Snape neared you resting his hand on your shoulder, “Very close. You had a great barrier until my name was called.”

You nodded breathing unsteadily looking to Minerva in her move to inspect you then chew out Snape only to halt at what he was doing. Fred and George both rubbed your back in your calming yourself before Minerva relented and moved aside as George did when he raised his wand again, repeating, “Clear your mind.”

Inhaling deeply you locked your eyes on his and at the slam of his curse against your mental wall it rebounded to a glimpse of your mother and aunt with him as children until petunia had come to fetch the girls. Rapidly you separated your mind from his and he inhaled shakily in a shake of his head to look at you again, “Sorry-,”

Hastily he apologized, “Don’t you apologize, well done. Very well done.”

You nodded and a few more tries were taken, each wavering in strength, but none less than successful in the majority, only granting him a few flashes of random images. At your waning energy at lack of food you took a break for the day at the food being brought in by a band of house elves Minerva had sent for to help you perk up again. By your side Minerva sat giving you a soft grin, “You did very well.” Her hand stroking your back again. “Just a few nightly rituals to keep your mind protected. Should help with any nightmares as well.”

Snape looked you over, “You have been having nightmares?”

Your eyes locked with his, “Mainly about Quirrell through the summer.” You shook your head making him step closer to you, “Sorry, I just-,”

Minerva, “Did you need a nap? You still have your free period.”

Shaking your head again you answered, “No, I keep feeling this pull.” You glanced between the two of them, “I found this ring at the Gaunt cottage, something’s just telling me to wear it.”

Minerva, “Do you know why?”

“I-,” your hand waved by your ear, “I keep hearing my Mum, she says ‘it will keep him away’, just keeps repeating it.”

Snape, “Could we see the ring?”

You nodded and rose to your feet, “Have it in the office,”

The twins grinned saying as you walked through your enchanted doorway, “Regulus has inspected it. There’s nothing special about it. Just an heirloom.”

Back again from finding the display box you pulled the ring from the hook beside the one holding Slytherin’s locket and then passed it to Snape when the door closed and vanished again glowing with freshly added draconic marks limiting who could call it protecting your family and yourself. Turning it in his palm he shook his head and passed it to Minerva who did the same and handed it to you while he said, “Perhaps the symbol is one of protection? I’ve not seen it before.”

Minerva shook her head, “Nor have I.”

“On the family tree it was from a woman marrying into their family.”

Fred, “Not much we could find on it.”

Minerva watched as you eased it onto your left middle finger beside the mood ring on your index finger, a warm hugging sensation folded around you and you heard your mother’s voice again, “Keep it on. He cannot touch you.”

Snape, “Anything?”

“Maybe Mum left a protection spell on it?”

George, “Maybe a blood protection spell?”

Fred, “Bound to be something old.”

They both nodded, “Hard to trace.”

Snape stated after finishing the last of his drink, “Perhaps,” after a moments pause he continued, “Perhaps it has to do with her sacrifice. A mother’s protection for her child. No doubt, I recall Regulus mentioning their trip to that cottage in our teens through a summer, it wasn’t far from Godric’s Hollow. Not hard to imagine she could have hid it for you leaving a charm to draw only you to it.”

“Maybe.”

Minerva drew in a breath saying, “For now, take a short nap, relax, or even go find Seamus to help you wind down and focus. We will up our offenses. If anything happens, with that ring or otherwise, let us know.”

With a smirk you asked, “Which one of you hexed the drinks?”

Minerva’s lips quirked up into a smirk of her own, “I had quite a reputation when I was a young thing myself.” Making you giggle and turn to head back to your dorm room, finding Cedric along the way.

Cedric, “How long did you get?”

The three of you answered, “Three weeks, four a week.”

Up behind you Seamus’ voice rang out, “You have to teach me that!”

A smirk eased across your lips and you turned saying, “Since you’re free why don’t we get in some practice on your levitation spells.” Wide grins spread across his face and that of the other first years grouping around you, “I know the perfect place.”

Straight up to the Room of Requirement you went answering their curious questions about the room, from the sheath in your pocket you drew your wand and a table coated in feathers sat in front of each of them while Ron brought out his wizard’s chess board form his bag he and Harry took to a table and cushioned benches along the wall. Wetting your lips you told Seamus, “Now, just breathe and focus on float.”

Moving aside you watched his overeager swish followed by an explosion you contained in a bubble in front of him through your bout of giggles. A blush spread across his cheeks and the twins said, “Ah, that’s what it is.”

Seamus looked at them and George said, “You’re a natural.”

The boy huffed turning his head to pout at the singed feather in front of him until you neared him to say, “Meaning, sometimes saying the charm isn’t enough. Some people are too powerful to just say the incantation.”

Seamus, “Meaning?”

“Meaning, think float, you’re thinking the words, you need to think float.”

Fred nodded, “Give it a try.”

Wetting his lips he eyed the next feather you moved in front of him then stepped aside by Dean and Draco, both in front of Hermione, who was on a bench reading through the next chapter in the book for her next course as Neville was finishing off his Herbology textbook. Inhaling deeply Seamus swished his wand with a flick to follow for the feather to float up barely a foot before it lit on fire stirring a giggle from you, “See, now you just have to keep at it. Stay focused. It’ll get easier.”

Curiously Dean asked while peering at your wand, its simple shaft with a handle with a rounded ball on the end, “What sort of core does yours have?”

“Thestral tail hair.”

Dean, “An odd core. Never heard of that one.”

You chuckled, “Famously fickle, even more so with a cherry wand around it. Now, let’s see how you do with a ball.” A swish of your wand shifted his feather into a red ball, each successful round was celebrated and while you circled him Ron sat with brows furrowed at the board in a cross room battle with you. Even after weeks of studying Ron still hadn’t memorized the chess book you had given him for his last birthday, one of several easing your skill in the game greatly ending each game in a handful of moves each time. Your last few minutes free you wrote home about all that had unfolded in the first portion of your day.

Potions came next and while the young ones took advantage of the empty space to practice other spells they had learned so far. For your first day simple potions were nowhere in sight. Forty pages of short answer questions and a three page essay was what you got, by far the most perfect class to have after your ordeal at lunch. Circling the desks Snape kept stealing glances at you, calmed that he was unable to see you in any discomfort.

Charms followed after. Inside the doors you grinned at Professor Flitwick on your way to your seat you said, “We had a tutoring session with Seamus, with some studying he should be able to master his wand. Just needs to relax and he’s more of a natural,”

Flitwick nodded, “That makes sense. I shall try to remember that and work a few more natural tricks into the lessons for the few naturals.”

You nodded saying, “If anything it might be a rough few years till he breaks his wand in. I’ll stock up on burn creams.” Making the Professor chuckle in watching you take your seats. Another exam and short demonstration later you were dismissed, though on the way out you were stopped again as he gave you a hopeful grin, “I, was wondering, about choir-?”

A weak chuckle came from you as George said, “Professor McGonagall thought it best to continue.”

Fred, “Sort of a reminder not to give in to her temper.”

The Professor chuckled answering, “That temper of yours seems to be evening out. So far never an unjust blow by my account. See you at practice.” Spreading a grin across your face in your continued path to the door.

Transfigurations was next and this one was hands on. Simple lessons on changing the form of several objects, including a few animals, each student had a chance to practice and successfully change several items with a variety of charms that grew more difficult as you went on.

Ancient Runes ended your list of classes. Across the board a paragraph was scrawled out in runes. All you were given was a simple translation book you had to first decipher which runes they were and then to find each word to translate later. The main hope to see how adept you were at mastering studies for the troubling course on your own. This was among the few extra courses you had signed up for that in a last minute decision Cedric had decided to sign up for. A choice that in the all inclusive course at an astonishing 12 students freed him to sit by the young Ravenclaw he had a crush on. Professor Babbling didn’t seem to mind the small class, in fact seemed at ease to shrink and take away the spare chairs freeing up more space for the expanding bookshelves around the coliseum like room with cushions for seats attached to stone tables in front of them curved across from the blackboard.

The task seemed to trouble only a few until they found a telling symbol, the ease at the first task stirred the Professor’s grin wider until you were all through and she gave you the origins of the story it had come from.

Collecting your translations, a single pause at your side for the last gathered, ended with her gently turning over your hand to inspect the symbol across the black pyramid shaped stone on the golden band. Releasing your hand as gently as she had taken it she kept finishing her story until the class ended.

Curiously you lingered behind and rose to your feet and grinned at her on your path over to ask, “Professor, I was wondering-,”

She shook her head, “No, my apologies.” Drawing a keychain from her pocket attached to a purpleish silver jackalope foot, “I thought I had imagined it in the distance, but it is so comforting to see a fan of The Three Brothers from the Tales of Beetle the Bard.”

“Oh, yes. It was my Grandfather’s.” Stirring her grin wider mirroring the one you forced onto your face, “You know, that reminds me, I haven’t read that book in a while. Time for a reread it seems.”

“That sounds wonderful. We could always share our thoughts on it later, I will let you get back to your dorm to drop your things off before supper.” You nodded and hurried out to join the guys.

Softly you whispered, “Apparently the symbol on the ring is from a book.”

The twins grinned, “Time to pop home.” Making you giggle and guide them through an empty doorway in a dead end hall you used to summon your door home to your own library to search for a copy of the fairytale book.

George, “We’ll have to read it here,”

Fred nodded, “Best not to add any hints that we know what the ring does.”

Cedric, having been filled in by Percy after your leaving at lunch said, “Yes. No telling what lengths this Riddle would go to for the ring.”

Row by row you eyed the titles in the shelves after consulting the enchanted book log pointing you to its location. A few minutes in you grinned when George claimed the book he had just found, “Found it!”

You all grinned and moved to one of the couches you curled up on peering at the pages Fred flipped through until he found the proper tale.

“Three brothers, traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight reached a deep treacherous river where anyone who attempted to swim or wade would drown. Learned in the magical arts, the brothers conjured a bridge with their wands and proceed to cross.

Halfway though the bridge, a hooded figure stood before them. The figure was the enraged spirit of Death, cheated of his due. Death cunningly pretended to congratulate them and proceeds to award them with gifts of their own choosing.

The eldest brother, a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence. Death granted his wish by fashioning the Elder Wand from a branch of a nearby elder tree standing on the banks of the river.

The second brother, an arrogant man, chose to further humiliate death, and asked for the power to recall the deceased from the grave. Death granted his wish by crafting the Resurrection Stone from a stone picked from the riverbank.

The third and youngest brother, who was the most humble and wise, did not trust Death and asked for something to enable him to go forth without Death being able to follow. A reluctant Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Invisibility cloak.

The three brothers took their prizes and soon went on their separate ways.

The eldest brother travelled to a village where a wizard whom he had quarrelled lived. He sought out a duel and fought the wizard using the wand, instantly killing the latter.

Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the eldest brother walked to an inn not far from the duelling site and spent the night there. Taken by his conscience and lust of the Elder Wand's power, the eldest brother boasted of this wand gifted by Death and his own invincibility.

That very night, Death transfigured to a murderous wizard. The unknown murderous wizard crept to the inn as the eldest brother slept, drunk from wine. The wizard slit the oldest brother’s throat for good measure and stole the wand. That was when Death took the first brother.

The second brother returned to his home where he lived alone. Turning the stone thrice in his hand the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him, much to his delight. Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally, the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, committed suicide by hanging from his house' balcony so as truly to join her. That was when Death took the second brother for his own.

Death searched for the youngest brother as years passed but never succeeded. It was only when the third brother reached a great age, he took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. Greeting Death as an old friend, they departed this life as equals.”

Cedric, “So, a wand, a stone and a cloak?”

Peering at your ring you eyed the shape then it clicked, “Look here, a wand, the stick. The stone is the circle, and the cloak over it.”

George, “Well, how could that help protect you?”

Fred, “There’s got to be more.”

Inhaling deeply you pursed your lips then hopped up to head to the book log again saying, “Are there any books detailing the Three Brothers greater?”

The pages fluttered and an old journal popped up in front of you from its place on the shelf at your request for it. With furrowed brows you eyed the cover reading ‘Stout Trout’, opening it you walked back to the couch to settle back in your former spot where they folded around you again, “Cover says ‘Stout Trout’, odd title for a journal.”

Cedric, “Nickname maybe? Or Camouflage?”

Scrawled barely legibly five pages in you read aloud, “Deathly Hallows…Antioch, Peverell – Elder Wand. Murdered in his sleep, whereabouts, mine.”

“Ignotus Peverell – Invisibility Cloak. Died of old age. Cloak passed down through the family line. Last known owner…Potter.”

Cedric, “Potter who?”

You shook your head, “Just says Potter.”

George waved his hand, “What about the stone?”

Wetting your lips you read on, “Cadmus Peverell – The Resurrection Stone. Fiancé brought back to life, in a manner of speaking, to join her truly he committed suicide. Stone passed down through the family line…” flipping the page at the triple dots marked down you eyed the full family tree from the Peverells, “Last known keeper, the Gaunts.” A short gap later it had in bold letters, “MISSING!” Underlined three times trailed by an ink blot.

Cedric, “So they have the stone then?”

You shook your head, “They’re dead. House was stripped bare except for this.”

Cedric drew in a breath then reached over taking your hand, “You know, it doesn’t say what sort of stone.”

Your lips parted and George said, “Much easier to hide it this way.”

Fred, “Plus, if it can bring the dead back there’s no saying it can’t let you hear your Mum watching over you.”

“Why would this ring be able to keep him away though?”

George, “Maybe, it will help to keep people who wish to harm you away. I mean Cadmus killed himself-,”

You smirked back at him, “So as long as I don’t kill myself I can’t die?”

Fred’s head tilted with George’s and they answered with Cedric, “Logical conclusion.”

Your own head tilted in an agreeing tick, “It actually does. In a really morbid way.”

Cedric, “So why all the fuss about these things?”

Twins, “To beat Death.”

You turned back to the other page and read, “This says ‘Master’ of Death.”

Cedric, “So it’s for people who don’t want to be able to die then…”

Your lips parted and you shook your head, “I don’t think he knows what this is.”

Twins, “Hmm?”

You wet your lips, “No, hear this, he wanted seven things, he took this from his grandfather. He was raised in an orphanage, a muggle one, meaning, he never heard this story, never knew where to look,”

George, “Must have just mistaken it for a crest or something!”

You nodded, “Exactly. So he won’t know to look for the others.”

Cedric, “Then we’re looking for the others now?”

Shaking your head you said, “As long as he doesn’t know about them we won’t have to.”

George, “Though, if it was left to the Potters,”

Fred, “We’re bound to have it somewhere around storage.”

Cedric, “Then this, person, has the final item, the wand should be safe then.”

You nodded flipping through the rest of the oddly scrawled maps and diagrams of various locations until you found an out of place note, “Gil, Off to Arithmacy, found a diagram of that castle you wanted, dungeons included.”

Twins, Cedric, “Albus?!”

Mumbling to yourself you said, “Well the cover makes sense.” Flipping through the book again you halted at the initials, G Grindlewald in the corner of the back cover.

Fred, “The Grindlewald?”

“Well, wand should be safe then with him locked up for twenty lifetimes.”

George, “Unless Dumbledore has it.”

“He is really old…” Closing the book you let it go freeing it to float back to its home again, “We should probably get back.”

Standing up you all made for your enchanted door that opened to your dorm where you all sat on the benches allowing what you’ve found out to sink in.

Pt 13

#Neville Longbottom #Hermione Granger #Draco #Seamus and Dean #Percy #Cedric Diggory #Fred and George Weasley #minerva mcgonagall #Snape #Barty Crouch Jr #Tom Riddle #Possessed Quirrell #Flitwick #Deathly Hallows #Three Brothers #Tales of Beedle the Bard

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obaewankenope · 5 years

Text

Part Six of Absconding With Harry verse is COMPLETE

Absconding with Harry Verse (series) here

Part Six here

Final chapter of part six here

Or below, idec:

Term starts up again with the sort of flourish term normally starts up with; mild elation at seeing friends again and the sudden, crippling realisation that exams are soon and homework aplenty. Harry—and the other second years—choose their third year subjects a week after term restarts. Harry—like Ron—chooses his subjects with less Thought and Deliberation and more ‘Oh I hope I don’t hate this one’. He keeps on with Care of Magical Creatures but picks up Arithmancy, Runes—both Ancient and Modern, which are Quite Different Apparently—and the much more accurate Muggle Studies[1]. The difference between Harry and Ron’s approach however lies in how Harry is a little more invested in learning new things because he Likes To Learn whereas Ron is just doing what is easiest[2].

“Ron you can’t just close your eyes and pick randomly!” Hermione is horrified by Ron’s lack of consideration for his future. Harry is a little torn between being impressed by his friend and concerned himself.

“Why not?” Ron asks, shrugging and doing precisely what Hermione says he can’t. “Not that difficult when I leave it up to blind chance,” he says, opening his eyes and looking at the subject he’s blindly picked. “See.”

Hermione rolls her eyes at him. “And what if you end up picking—I don’t know—Arithmancy or something that you don’t want to do?” Her tone of voice is a little sharp, perhaps a little nasty but it rolls off Ron like water rolls off a duck.

“Pick a different one,” he replies nonchalantly and Hermione groans. “Oh, hey, Divination. Should be easy. George picked that one and always says it’s an easy pass.”

“We’ll have only one class together beside the core ones,” Harry comments, looking at Ron a little sadly. He’d like his friend to be in his classes with him but, sometimes, it’s necessary to choose options for yourself and not Because You Want To Be With Your Friend All The Time. In another lifetime Harry might have chosen the same classes as Ron. In another lifetime Harry might not have cared about his future or what any adults really thought of the subjects he took. In another lifetime Harry would have been very used to Relying Only On Himself.

Fortunately, this is not that lifetime.

“That’s all right,” Ron says and means it. “At least I’ll have the easiest homework out of the three of us,” he jokes and Harry laughs.

Crowley gives Harry free reign for one night—and one night only—to ask the demon every question the boy can think of regarding Arithmancy and Runes but retains the right to not answer depending on how Dangerous the topic is. This pleases Aziraphale who remarks to the demon—after they’ve settled down for the night—that Crowley ‘quit suits this parenting lark’. Crowley, naturally, responds with a ‘right back at you’ that makes the angel blush beautifully[3].

The diary remains hidden in Harry’s belongings as, after the revelation of it regarding Hagrid, the boy had been reluctant to give it to his uncles because it could have more information about the Chamber. Logic told Harry that he ought to trust his uncles, that he needn’t be the Hero and fight the fight for everyone, but logic is easily ignored if one is adept at rationalising one’s actions to the point of making even the more irrationally illogical action perfectly reasonable[4].

Fortunately for Harry, he has two friends are a little more practical and not as averse to trusting adults—though Ron, as the second youngest and last boy of a group of six is a little used to taking care of things himself because ‘well, mum’s always busy shouting at the twins, or cooing about Percy and Ginny’ which he is not at all bitter about[5]—and needle the black-haired boy until he eventually caves and agrees to Tell Them.

Of course, just as can be expected with Harry’s luck, the moment he decides to actually tell Aziraphale and Crowley, the diary goes missing. His belongings are strewn around the dorm room, bed mostly in tatters save for the sturdy wooden frame, and Ron looks as disturbed as Harry when they realise only the diary is missing from his belongings.

“Harry,” Aziraphale says and everyone can hear the Disappointment in his voice. “You really ought to have told us about this sooner.”

“Sorry uncle ‘Zira,” Harry says rather lamely. “I just- I don’t know, I wanted to but didn’t. I don’t know why.”

Crowley ruffles Harry’s hair, reassuring the boy with the act. “Because you’re a teenager soon,” Crowley quips, making Harry smile slightly. “Just starting the rebellious phase a little early is all.”

Aziraphale gives Crowley an unimpressed look but doesn’t say anything because Harry is looking a little less guilty and upset about everything now. “What—you mentioned something about the book—diary—showing you things?”

Crowley focuses on Harry’s nervously twitching fingers and Aziraphale recognises the look on the demon’s face as a look of realisation—what the realisation is, Aziraphale doesn’t know, but he has no doubt Crowley will tell him.

“I- it- my bag split on the way to Transfiguration the day I found it in the girls bathroom on the third floor,” Harry says looking at them both. “All my books were covered in ink but the diary- it was completely dry. I checked it later in the dorm and tested it with more ink and—well I wrote in it because I was curious. It kept absorbing the ink and not really doing anything until I wrote my name.”

“What did it do when you told it your name?” Crowley is tense—tenser than Aziraphale has seen the demon since those days last year with that shade on Quirrell’s head—and the sight does little to reassure the angel.

“It talked to me.”

“What—ah—what did it say?” Aziraphale asks gently and Harry sort of shrugs.

“Told me it’s name was Tom Riddle and that it was the diary of a student who had been at Hogwarts the last time the Chamber was opened,” Harry answers—a little reluctantly, but he answers nonetheless—and Aziraphale sees how Harry’s shoulders hunch a little as though the child expects to be punished.

Truthfully, Aziraphale would love to reprimand Harry for not telling them about the diary sooner, but one glance at Crowley reveals that neither of them are willing to do so when Harry obviously feels bad enough about not telling them. It would do no good for Harry to be told off by them when he so obviously expects it and Aziraphale has no desire to hurt his son—yes, that’s what Harry is, he’s accepted it—when he’s already hurting.

Instead, the angel reaches out and pulls Harry into his embrace, ignoring the slight flinch of Harry’s shoulders at the contact. The boy relaxes into his embrace, all-but melting against him seeking comfort and reassurance that Aziraphale gladly gives.

“It’s all right Harry, I’m not mad; neither is Crowley,” Aziraphale murmurs, feeling Harry cling tighter to him, head burrowed in the fabric of Aziraphale’s coat. “We’re just worried dear heart.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry says, voice muffled by the soft beige coat and Aziraphale strokes his hair gently. “I was gonna tell you both, I promise, but it was like I just couldn’t.”

“It’s not your fault, Harry.”

Aziraphale and Harry both look at Crowley who seems grimmer than ever. The demon is looking at Harry with a tender expression in his serpentine eyes.

“Uncle Crowley?”

“I mean it,” Crowley says, firm and Aziraphale frowns. “Things like that diary protect themselves. You’re only able to tell us now because you don’t have it anymore. It’s not your fault.”

“I should have been able to ignore it though!” Harry exclaims, eyes wet and face a picture of angry self-loathing that Aziraphale wants to immediately sooth away.

“Listen to me Harry,” Crowley says and his voice is sharp and commanding. It’s the voice of a being that is not Kind or Gentle but is Powerful and Utterly Unrelenting. It’s the voice of someone who expects to be Listened To Now. It’s a voice Aziraphale seldom hears from the demon. But Harry stills and stares at the demon with wide-eyes. “You can’t fight things like that,” he continues voice still sharp and commanding. “It’s not something anyone can fight. The compulsion is subtle, so subtle that you don’t notice it—it’s designed that way. You’re human Harry and that thing—whatever it really is—is evil of a type that you’ve never dealt with before. You can’t fight it because you have no idea what it is and how it works. This isn’t your fault.”

Harry is silent, staring at Crowley with wide, emotion-filled eyes and Aziraphale feels the need to chip in. So he does.

“Your free will was taken from you by the diary, Harry,” Aziraphale explains, gently, and the boy looks at him. He doesn’t quite understand it, Aziraphale can tell, but Harry believes them which is what matters. “But you could have kept this from us, not told us about it at all when the diary was no longer controlling you.”

“I almost didn’t,” Harry admits. “Ron and Hermione convinced me.”

Aziraphale smiles benevolently and it’s a bright, warming smile that soothes aches and pains in Harry in ways the child will never realise. “But it was your choice to tell us,” he points out. “That counts for far more in the end.”

Harry is sent back to his common room—to his friends who are waiting for him and who he needs more reassurance off after telling his uncle’s everything—leaving Aziraphale and Crowley to Talk[6].

“Do you know what it—the diary—is?” Crowley looks at Aziraphale with the kind of expression one normally wears when asked a stupid question that is impossible to answer but still stupid nonetheless.

“Do I know what it is? What am I—God?” Crowley snaps and he’s irritated and worried and very, very afraid but Aziraphale doesn’t deserve the spite. “Sorry angel.”

Aziraphale, in his typical fashion, waves off Crowley’s apology, more focused on the situation than on feelings. The demon is aware that six thousand years of knowing each other enables Aziraphale to know when Crowley is just venting and to not take it personally when he gets snippy.

“It’s evil, that much we both can agree on,” Aziraphale says and Crowley nods because, yes, it is definitely evil. He hadn’t noticed it before but there had been echoes around Harry—so faint that Crowley could have easily mistaken them as faded impressions of his own demony-ness—that spoke of something Not At All Nice. “Do you know of any sort of evil that could—I don’t know—latch onto a physical form like a book?”

“We both know several angel,” Crowley replies, flicking his wrist and miracling a glass of wine into his hand. He throws back a considerable amount of it before speaking again: “that’s the problem. Too many options and no real way of narrowing it down.”

“Yes, quite.” Aziraphale miracles his own wine—the same vintage as Crowley’s—and together they drink their way through a considerable amount of alcohol in a short period of time.

Later, when they’ve drank what is probably far too much to be wise, they’re both sort of slumped on the sofa in their quarters, leaning into each other instinctively seeking the other out. It is a comfortable, affectionate scene that speaks of familiarity and trust built on shared experiences.

It’s all very sweet but Harry is in the midst of a nightmare at the same time, hissing out desperately in parseltongue that wakes Ron and has the ginger boy shaking his friend awake in a panicked rush.

“Harry!” Ron half-shouts, not quite loud enough to wake the other boys in the room—for it is well known boys sleep like the dead most of the time[7]—but more than enough to startle Harry awake. “Harry!”

The Indian boy comes to with a gasp, grasps at Ron’s hand on his shoulder and heaves out heavy breaths as the world of consciousness returns to him. “R-Ron?”

“Are you all right?” Ron asks, quieter and hushed but so full of concern for his friend that Harry seems to grip his hand tighter. The ginger boy is aware that Harry didn’t have a good childhood before the professors adopted him and he wonders if Harry was hurt by the people who were meant to love him. It’s heavy stuff for a twelve-year-old to think but Ron is nothing if not capable of being mature and responsible when his friends are in danger[8]. “Should I get your uncles?”

Harry shakes his head. “No,” he pants. “No, it was just- not fun.”

“Don’t think nightmares are meant to be fun, Harry,” Ron says with a little humour and is relieved when Harry cracks a smile at him. It’s weak but a smile is a smile and it counts. “Wanna talk about it?” He asks, a little nervously, a little cautiously, but determined. If Harry needs to talk to someone about his nightmares then Ron will be there for his best friend.

Harry sort of shrugs. “It was weird,” he says after a moment. “Like I was reliving a memory not just having a—you know—nightmare.”

Ron bites his lip. “Think the diary…” he trails off, not wanting to finish the thought but Harry grimaces at him.

“Maybe,” the dark-haired boy says, “I didn’t have it long but- if uncle Crowley is right then it’s evil and maybe it—I don’t know—maybe it was… possessing me? Is that- can a book do that?” Harry looks at Ron and Ron can see the fear in his friends eyes, the fear Harry can’t quite hide.

“Dunno mate,” Ron answers, sitting on Harry’s bed. “Don’t know that much about dark magic and the like. We could ask Hermione or I could owl my dad and see if he might have an idea?”

“Wouldn’t your dad ask why you’re asking him though?”

Ron shrugs. “I’ve grown up with Fred and George lying to mum and dad since I can remember, not that hard to think something up; extra homework or maybe just say I overheard Malfoy saying something weird—dad would love to go and toss Malfoy manor again!”

Harry grins. “He really would, wouldn’t he?”

Ron gives Harry a grin himself and shoves up off Harry’s bed. “Right, I’ll do that tomorrow then,” the ginger boy says, returning to his own bed. “You be all right now?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I need more sleep anyway.”

“Night Harry.”

“Night Ron.”

Hermione, as usual, dives into the library the moment Harry and Ron bring up the possibility of books possessing people. Ron still writes to his dad, figuring out the best way to word his letter with Harry offering up words he randomly finds in a thesaurus that’s seen better days. Some of the words are most certainly not the kind of words Ron would typically use but they sound smart and interesting and both boys accidentally commit them to memory[9].

“Do you think we should mention our theory about the Chamber?” Hermione asks Harry during a brief break in her systematic destruction of the library for information on people-possessing-books. “To your uncles, I mean.”

“Uh- didn’t think about it to be honest.” Harry blinks. “Probably a good idea, yeah? Maybe they’ll know about a student that died? Or can find out?”

“Can’t really hurt to ask can it?” Ron asks and the question is definitely rhetorical but Harry and Hermione both shrug. “Let me just finish this. I’ll take it to the owlery at lunch.”

Aziraphale—being the librarian—is watching the trio and other students with his many celestial eyes and notices the way Hermione has searched out books all about possession and sentient objects. It makes him worry enough to send a little celestial message to Crowley on the matter and the demon responds with a promise to see the angel as soon as his class is finished.

Incidentally, this means that when lunch arrives and the trio are about to head out of the library—their class having been cancelled because someone decided to try and exorcise Binns again and caused a bit of a disaster in the History of Magic classroom—Crowley appears in the doorway and gives the three of them a knowing look.

Aziraphale comes up behind them and the three children look between the two adults, realising that Aziraphale has indeed been paying attention to them in the library and no, they’re not quite as subtle as they thought they were. It’s a good lesson for them in the art of being sneaky but Crowley won’t point that out when there’s more important things to discuss.

Like possession.

“You didn’t tell us you were missing hours,” Crowley says as measuredly as he can while gripping the teacup in his hand with such a tight grip that the ceramic is starting to crack under the pressure.

“I- I wasn’t sure if I was,” Harry stutters awkwardly, head hanging so he doesn’t have to look at his uncles. Hermione and Ron bracket Harry on the sofa in their quarters, a plate filled with a selection of lunch options on the coffee table in front of it. Ron is happily munching away while Hermione rather nervously twists a napkin in her lap.

“You thought you were just zoning out, perhaps?” Aziraphale asks, calmer than Crowley but just as worried as the demon. The children can’t sense it but both angel and demon are well-aware of how concerned they are about this development.

Harry nods. “I thought maybe Quidditch was just exhausting me more, Oliver is going rabid over practices since Malfoy got on the Slytherin team.” Ron nods supportively, agreeing with Harry while Hermione rolls her eyes at the way Ron makes a supportive noise through a mouthful of ham butty[10].

“Well—that uh- that narrows down the options quite a bit really,” Aziraphale finally says after a moment and Crowley makes a disgusted noise.

“Not really angel,” the demon says, “just means we can rule out hexes and curses on the damned diary. Possession usually means demonic—or angelic—or something connected to souls.” Crowley grimaces. “I don’t know which of those I’d prefer.”

“Oh the souls, most certainly,” Aziraphale says, sipping his tea. “We can handle those without reporting to our head offices and—well—you know.”

Crowley’s grimace grows. “Fair point.”

Hermione looks between them, frowning in the way she does whenever she’s confused or doesn’t understand and wants to. Crowley still finds that sort of determined dedication to understanding and knowledge to be very—he wouldn’t say “adorable” but it is adorable—reminiscent of the first woman Crowley ever knew. It’s a high mark of praise for the witch but sometimes she chooses the worst times to question things.

“What do you mean ‘head offices’?” Hermione asks, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“I told you Hermione,” Harry says, “uncle ‘Zira is an angel and uncle Crowley is a demon. That’s why he’s got snake eyes.”

Hermione huffs. “Angels and demons don’t exist Harry.”

Crowley raises an eyebrow. “Hear that angel,” he says, looking at Aziraphale. “We don’t exist apparently.”

“Really Crowley, now is not the time,” Aziraphale says and Crowley just smirks. “Miss Granger—Hermione—I’m sure you have a lot of questions for us, but right now I do think it wise to focus on the matter of this diary. If what Harry was shown by it is accurate, then we may well be able to do something about this Chamber of Secrets and Slytherin monster. Which, I’m sure you agree, is a good thing.”

Hermione—amusingly enough—looks visibly torn between agreeing with Aziraphale and arguing some more. Crowley finds the irritation the young lady is capable of expressing without saying a word to be fantastically entertaining; especially when she’s irritated at his angel and said angel is enjoying the frustration just a little.

“Oh fine!” Hermione gives Aziraphale a sharp look that is brilliant for Crowley to witness. “But I’m not going to drop this!”

“Of course not,” Crowley says, distracting the girl. “You’re human. Never drop nothing you lot; not even if it bites you.”

Harry snickers and Crowley throws him a smirk. Aziraphale rolls his eyes at Crowley’s antics but the focus is returned to the more important issues and the tension dissipates.

“So, probably something soul-related for the diary,” Crowley says suddenly, snapping up from the chair he’d sort of poured himself into earlier. Aziraphale gives him an unimpressed look for startling the kids with his sudden movement but Aziraphale gives him unimpressed looks for lots of things. “Shades, ghosts, demon-made deals, actual souls shoved in books, lots of options really.”

“But most have the same solution,” Aziraphale points out.

“What?” Ron looks at the librarian.

“Fire.”

Everyone looks at Hermione who is staring at Crowley with a determined look on her face.

Crowley nods. “Fire. Not any kind of fire though, hellfire would be best.” He frowned. “Guess that’s my job then.”

“What about Hagrid?” Harry asks suddenly. “The diary said that Hagrid opened the Chamber fifty years ago but if the diary is evil…” he trails off.

“Then maybe Hagrid isn’t the one who opened it then,” Ron finishes, nodding. “Maybe it was that Riddle kid? He sounded kinda slimy with all his awards; like he was making up for something or trying to show off.” Ron looks at Harry. “And you said he was a Slytherin!”

“Oh don’t believe that rubbish about one house being evil,” Crowley tells Ron, rolling his eyes. “Only thing for Slytherin is all the ‘purebloods’ and money they have. Makes the lot of them entitled, not evil.” He pauses. “Definitely stupid though.”

Aziraphale bites back a sound that is suspiciously like a laugh making Crowley smirk at the angel. “Yes well, be that as it may,” the angel says, tugging lightly on his lapels in a nervous gesture. “We really ought to send you lot off to your classes before lunch is over. Crowley and I will speak to Hagrid about the Chamber and see what we can find out. Anything he knows might be helpful.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione immediately begin protesting at Aziraphale and Crowley ‘taking over’ their investigation until Crowley snaps his fingers and silences them.

“It’s like you three think you’re the only ones who can figure this stuff out.” Crowley rolls his eyes. “We’re gonna talk to Hagrid later tonight when you’re meant to be in your dorms since there’s a monster attacking students out and about. Just wait in the common room and we’ll tell you tomorrow what he says.”

Aziraphale gives Crowley a little disapproving look but really, the kids are already involved and this way they can try and mitigate the risk to the three of them. If they forbid them from getting involved, Crowley just knows they’ll go off and do stuff and not tell them about it. That’s not something that will end well so Crowley’s choosing a lesser of two evils—ha—and keeping them involved but not outright in danger.

Hagrid won’t want to talk about his past with the kids he feels close to—least of all Harry when the assistant-professor has grown pretty attached to the kid—and Crowley doesn’t think it would be fair to force him to just because the kids want to know.

“This isn’t about you,” he says quietly. “Do you think Hagrid is going to want to talk about this to you three? He won’t want to talk about it to us but it’s worse if you have to tell children you care for about things you’re ashamed of.”

Harry frowns. “What do you mean?” he mouths since Crowley still hasn’t returned their voices.

The demon snaps his fingers to do just that and Harry repeats his question.

“Imagine you’re Hagrid,” Aziraphale says, saving Crowley from having to explain it and really, Crowley just wants to curl up and avoid this topic but he started it so he’s going to stick around for it. “You have something you’re ashamed of, something that is connected to the death of someone and expulsion. You put it behind you and then suddenly it comes back and you have children who you teach, who trust you, asking you painful questions and maybe accusing you of doing things you might not have done.”

“Oh.” Harry looks down at his feet. The other children are similarly contrite.

“We’ll tell you what he says but give them man some dignity, please,” Crowley says, promises, begs, and all three kids nod. “Thanksss.”

That evening, Crowley and Aziraphale head to Hagrid’s cabin on the grounds, both of them nervous and reluctant to actually ask the assistant-professor about this but they needed to know.

They’re met at the door by Dumbledore who looks very not pleased behind that veneer of geniality, a blonde-haired man who just bleeds nastiness, and a short, pudgy-faced man with a bowler hat who seems rather harried.

Crowley hates both of them immediately.

“Honestly! This is becoming ridiculous!” The bowler-hat man exclaims and Crowley’s eyes narrow. He’s not wearing his sunglasses and the effect of his narrow-eyed stare is one that makes the short man pale when he looks at the demon. “Oh Merlin! What are you!”

“That’s a little rude,” Aziraphale comments, drawing the man’s attention to him and the bowler hat man blanches at the cold look on the angel’s face. “Manners maketh and such.”

“What’s going on?” Crowley asks, voice deceptively mild as he enters the cabin, forcing the bowler hat man to back up hastily to avoid him. Aziraphale follows the demon and closes the door with a gentle snap. No one is leaving the cabin without going through the angel—not an easy task considering the look in Aziraphale’s eyes either. “Nice little get together and you didn’t invite us Rubeus? I’m hurt.”

“Really dear, I’m sure Rubeus planned to invite us,” Aziraphale says, giving Hagrid a smile. The assistant-professor returns it weakly.

“Who are you?” The tall man with blonde-hair and a haughtier than haughty expression demands in the tone of voice one uses when they expect to be obeyed. Crowley wants to hiss at the man for that imperiousness alone. Reminds him too much of bossy angels and slave-driver demons.

“We’re teachers—well I am, he’s just the book lover,” Crowley points at Aziraphale who gives him a Really Dear look that makes Crowley’s lips quirk in a smirk. “Came down to have a chat with Rubeus actually, need to work on some lesson plans with him.”

“That- that won’t be happening,” the bowler hat man says, trying for firm but sounding a bit more like a child wanting to be in charge and failing. Crowley wants to give the man a reason to pass out from sheer terror but with Dumbledore in the room- Crowley settles for giving the man a nasty stare. It makes him recoil. “Ha- Hagrid will be coming with me.”

“Oh, got some important meeting you need him to attend? Some beast you can’t figure out? If it’s a snake I’m more than suitable for the task,” Crowley asks mockingly.

“T- there’s been four attacks on Muggleborns! The ministry has to be seen t- t- to act! I have to do something and- and Hagrid—well—his past speaks for itself.” The man stutters, growing more confident as he goes. “I’m under a lot of pressure see, got to do something. If it isn’t- if Hagrid is innocent, then he can come back. But—well—I’m going to have to take him with me. There’s aurors waiting at the gates.”

“Take me!” Hagrid exclaims and he’s trembling from fear and it’s something that makes Crowley angry. He doesn’t like it when he sees someone afraid and isn’t sure they deserve it. It grates at him. “Take me where?”

“I- well- it- just for a little while,” the bowler hate man gets out and Hagrid lets out a scared whine that has Crowley stepping in front of his assistant.

“You can’t just detain someone without proof you know,” the demon says silky-smooth. He’s got his eyes locked on to the bowler hat man—who he suspects is the minister—and Crowley wants to just curl around him and crush. “You need evidence to justify holding someone.”

“Evidence! There’s- there have been four attacks!” Fudge exclaims. “That’s- that’s evidence enough!”

“Not against Rubeus it isn’t,” Aziraphale points out and the bowler hat man who might be Fudge gives him a glare. “Only that there’s someone carrying out attacks.”

“Unless you have actual evidence that proves Rubeus is behind this, you can’t take him.” Crowley is firm and refuses to back down now. Not now. Not when he can feel the fear from Hagrid, not when he can taste the anger and hate in the room from the blonde-haired man. Not when he’s all that stands between Hagrid and being caged liked an animal.

Hagrid hasn’t done anything to justify this punishment. It’s something Crowley just knows like he knows how many stars are in the sky. It’s something… ineffable.

So no. He won’t be moving. Nothing can make him. Nothing.

“He was responsible for the attacks fifty years ago!” Fudge exclaims like that’s reason enough and maybe it is, but Crowley has no intention of giving the minister of idiocy any sort of In. “That is reason enough!”

“One student accuses another of being responsible, a monster of some sort escapes and the person assumed to be responsible is expelled,” Crowley recites what Harry told them verbatim. “That’s not really proof of guilt.”

“Plenty of room for reasonable doubt, I believe, dear,” Aziraphale adds from the door and Crowley nods.

“You’re not taking him.” Crowley stares Fudge down, eyes shining their serpentine gold and he can see the way the man is starting to sweat as instincts swell and tell him that he’s In Danger Right Now. The instincts are correct.

“Y- you can’t stop me! I’m the Minister for Magic!”

“And I’m a demon, big deal,” Crowley replies, utterly unimpressed with the almost childish tantrum Fudge is now giving him. “Minister for Magic means you run the country, not that you can do whatever you like idiot. Now get out.”

“I can do whatever I like!” Fudge stomps a foot and he really is a child, it’s crazy. The wizard in charge of Wizarding Britain is basically a five-year-old. How auspicious.

“You- you really can’t.” Crowley rolls his eyes. “I knew a fella who thought he could do what he wanted when he was in charge. Got his head lopped off by peasants for it. Wonder who’ll take your head.”

Fudge’s tantrum ends suddenly at Crowley’s words and the short wizard stares at him horrified. “You- you,” he stutters, “you’re threatening me?”

“Of course not,” Crowley says, “why threaten when you can just do? Besides, I don’t need to do a thing to you; you’ll get yours soon enough. Your type always do.”

“Amusing as this may be, I believe the reason for this visit is two-fold, minister,” the blonde-haired man drawls and Crowley really, really wants to hiss at him.

Fudge looks at him. “Ah yes, yes mister Malfoy, it is,” Fudge says and Crowley’s eyebrows rise a little in surprise.

This is Draco Malfoy’s father? It’s no wonder the kid is the way he is, Crowley realises. The man in front of him all but bleeds the kind of aura that would make any other demon salivate over a Really Good Meal.

“Albus,” Fudge says, looking at Dumbledore. “I- mister Malfoy- well… the board of governors had a vote after this latest attack on miss Clearwater—lovely family, can’t imagine how they’re feeling—and well- it’s been decided that you—this isn’t personal Albus, I do want you to know that—but well-”

“Oh just spit it out would you!” Crowley snarls and Fudge jumps. “Honestly, I’d rather listen to Hastur babbling on about a tempting than you right now.”

“The board of governors has unanimously voted to remove you as headmaster immediately,” Malfoy says smoothly, stepping forward. “It is felt that, considering the number of attacks that you have failed to prevent, it is necessary for action to be taken.”

Crowley snorts. “Oh I’m sure,” he mutters. “No proof against Rubeus means you can’t take him but a shiny little scroll with some signatures means you can displace Dumbledore. Sneaky.”

“Yeh can’t take Albus though!” Hagrid exclaims, horrified from behind Crowley. “The muggleborns won’t stand a chance!”

“Oh sure they will, because we’re gonna have a chat and you’re going to tell us what you know and then the angel and I are gonna sort it,” Crowley says, waving a hand.

Fudge stares at him. “What- what are you- you’re out of your mind.”

“Least I’ve got one to be out of.” Crowley turns away from Fudge who starts to realise he’s just been insulted. “Angel, see him out would you? I don’t think I’d send him anywhere nice if I do it.”

“Of course, dear,” Aziraphale says and with a snap of his fingers, obliges Crowley’s request. Fudge disappears mid-sentence and the silence after his disappearance is surprisingly welcome.

“That was quite impressive.” Malfoy looks at Aziraphale with a glint in his eyes. “Apparition isn’t possible on the grounds of Hogwarts as far as I’m aware.”

Crowley snorts.

“Ah well, that was—strictly speaking—not apparition,” Aziraphale explains a little awkwardly. “It was—uhm—well—”

“Magic,” Crowley quips. “Obviously.” He looks at Malfoy. “Weren’t you going to run off with a Dumbledore trailing after you? Some of us have things to be doing.”

Malfoy takes the hint—fortunately—and with a last calculating look at both of them, leaves Hagrid’s cabin. Dumbledore remains behind long enough to reassure Hagrid who seems more broken up about the headmaster leaving than he was about being dragged off to Azkaban. It’s not Crowley’s business, obviously, but that sort of thing does speak to a lot of dependency issues. Too much loyalty and too little common sense in his opinion.

Then again, Crowley’s opinion got him tossed out of heaven so maybe he was biased.

Aziraphale bustles about Hagrid’s cabin making tea for the assistant-professor who literally dropped into his chair the moment his door was shut. Crowley gives the large man—he’s got to be more than just a regular old human, maybe some giant in there?—an awkward pat on the shoulder before dropping down into a chair himself.

Hagrid probably wants to lament Dumbledore’s leaving but Crowley finds he has absolutely no desire to discuss that affront to colour and fashion right now. So he decides to steer the conversation before it even starts by asking Hagrid outright to tell them about the Chamber.

“So, you got blamed for the Chamber and the dead student; wanna explain how and why your creature wasn’t to blame?”

Hagrid’s tired, pale face closes up—which is impressive when Crowley can see the tear-streaks running into the wiry beard from the man being so relieved to not be heading to Azkaban.

“We’re not asking because we think you were responsible, Rubeus,” Aziraphale explains, setting three large mugs of steaming tea on the table in front of them. He sits down next to Crowley and automatically the demon leans in a little toward the angel. “But anything you can tell us may help.”

“Yeh think yeh can find who’s attacking people?” Hagrid asks and he sounds dubious and doubtful but there’s a little spark of hopefulness there that Crowley can sense and that Aziraphale tugs on to help bloom. “I was just a kid an’ I liked takin’ care of creatures. People called ‘em all beasts and monsters but they weren’t. Just misunderstood an’ all tha’.”

Crowley shifts a little in his chair and Aziraphale places a hand on his leg, a reassuring weight that the demon focuses on. “So you were taking care of something that was probably dangerous to others?”

Hagrid lets out a noise. “No! No! He would never hurt anyone! He was just scared of bein’ in the castle! It wasn’t him!” The man grips the mug of tea in his hands and the liquid sloshes from the shaking limbs. “He just wanted to leave the castle but wouldn’t tell me why.”

“So your creature was afraid of something else?” Aziraphale frowns. “That suggests that it was something your beastly friend naturally feared; a predator perhaps?”

“It’d have to be a predator angel,” Crowley points out. “Don’t know that many prey animals that hunt fresh meat.”

Aziraphale grimaces. “Ah, yes, fair point.”

“What was your creature, Rubeus?” Crowley asks. “That’d help us narrow it down.”

Hagrid flushes a little and looks down at his mug. “He’s an acro….” He mumbles, trailing off at the end.

Aziraphale and Crowley look at each other. “A what?” Crowley asks.

Hagrid breathes out. “An Acromantula.”

Aziraphale frowns. “What—ah—what is that?” he asks looking at Crowley. “Crowley?”

The demon stares at Hagrid. “You…” he breathes slowly. “You had a giant man-eating spider as a kid?”

Aziraphale startles. “Oh- oh my, that- well.”

Hagrid looks at them both, glancing between them. “But he wouldn’t have hurt anyone! He couldn’t!” Crowley laughs. “No, he really couldn’t. I might be pants at magic but I weren’t so bad that I couldn’t make charms to keep ‘im where I had ‘im. Besides,” Hagrid adds, “an Acromantula gets someone and there’s nothin’ left to find really.”

Aziraphale shudders.

“He’s right,” Crowley says. “It wasn’t Hagrid’s pet people-eating spider. Something else attacked the students fifty years ago and is attacking them again now.”

“But what is it?” Aziraphale asks, looking very vexed.

“Dunno,” Hagrid answers. “But Aragog was dead scared of it. Refused to leave the Forest no matter what I said.”

Aziraphale looks at Hagrid. “The Forest?” He repeats and blinks. “The Forbidden Forest? Your- your beastly friend is in the Forbidden Forest?”

“Acromantula’s can live a long time.” Crowley ignores the noise Aziraphale lets out at that little bit of information, more focused on trying to think about what spiders are afraid of.

There’s birds of course, like any insect or arachnid, something with wings can pluck them up and have their merry way with them. Of course, Crowley doesn’t know of any magical bird that would try and pick a fight with an Acromantula. Neither did Hagrid either if he still hasn’t figured it out.

There’s snakes, as well, but snakes are—well—Crowley knows of every type of snake there is. He doesn’t know any snake that’s big enough to eat a giant version of a spider except for him when he feels like growing.

Toads, lizards, monkeys, all of them eat spiders but again, none so big as an Acromantula.

Crowley hisses out a sigh. “Whatever Aragog is afraid of, it’s got to be in the castle, which means it needs to be able to hide somewhere.”

Aziraphale and Hagrid both look at him.

“Yeh- yeh both believe me?” Hagrid asks timidly. Crowley and Aziraphale both nod—though Crowley rolls his eyes—and the large man smiles. “I- thank yeh both!”

Crowley waves a hand. “Don’t mention it. Really. Don’t.”

Aziraphale gives Hagrid a smile. “You’re welcome, Rubeus, but really, you ought to be listened to no matter what. Quite dreadful how you were treated,” he says and Hagrid’s smile turns watery from feelings.

Crowley sighs. Typical of the angel to go and do the feelings thing and make Hagrid love him. Not that Crowley can blame Hagrid—Aziraphale just has that affect on people. It’s the angel in him.

Crowley is more interested in the ‘little bit of bastard’ part truth be told.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione receive a sticky-note version of what happened in Hagrid’s cabin which leaves the three of them exchanging looks and obviously planning to do some intensive research on what could scare a giant spider so well. Crowley figures it’s safer to leave them to that than tell them not to get involved and only wants to slap himself with a handful of holy water after Hermione is petrified during the last Quidditch game of the year.

Crowley accompanies McGonagall when she takes Harry and Ron to the infirmary, intending to look at Hermione himself and hope—pray, he’ll even prey—that he can find something there to tell him what attacked her.

Of course, he’s stood next to McGonagall while Harry and Ron are flush against the hospital bed, quietly grieving and blaming themselves for leaving their friend to go off to the library alone. She had a mirror with her for some reason which niggles Crowley in ways he doesn’t quite understand. Neither Harry or Ron have any idea either and McGonagall escorts them back to their common room in silence, leaving Crowley staring at Hermione with a pensive expression on his face.

Aziraphale joins him soon after.[11]

“Do you know what did this, my dear?” the angel asks and Crowley nods. “What was it?”

“Snake.” Crowley sighs. “It’s a snake.”

Aziraphale blinks. “Really? But- but what snake would- Crowley I don’t know of any snake big enough to attack a giant spider.”

“The mirror.” Crowley points at the mirror on the nightstand by the bed Hermione lies on. Aziraphale looks at it. “There’s an echo to it no one else can see. Don’t look—” he grabs Aziraphale’s hand when the angel makes a move to look. “—it’d affect you, angel or no.”

“But not you?”

Crowley shrugs. “I’m a snake. Can’t affect me when I’m what it came from.”

“What- what are we going to do?” Aziraphale asks after a moment.

“Nothing to do except kill it, angel.” Crowley’s face is closed but Aziraphale has know this particular demon for six thousand years. He knows when Crowley is trying to hide how he feels about something.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, placing a hand on Crowley’s shoulder. It’s a mark to how upset his demon is that Crowley doesn’t shrug the hand off. Instead, the demon leans into the touch just a little.

“It is what it is, angel.”

But that doesn’t make it is. What needs to be done is sometimes the hardest thing to do, especially when it’s choosing between something you’ve made and thus love and something you’ve found and love as well.

Aziraphale goes to find McGonagall to put the school on lockdown while Crowley and Aziraphale go hunting for a giant snake. It’s not going to be easy for them to find but now Crowley knows it’s a snake, he can call it out himself. In theory. Of course, that’s when they discover that Ginny Weasley is missing, the mandrakes are ready, and there’s a message in paint or blood declaring that her bones are going to remain in the Chamber forever. It’s not exactly enjoyable but it does spur McGonagall into getting all the students rounded up in their common rooms.

Harry and Ron sneak out of Gryffindor tower and come across Crowley in the corridors near the second floor bathroom. The invisibility cloak is useless against Crowley because he can smell them long before he’d ever need to see them which ends up with Harry and Ron being glared at by an irate demon.

“We know where the chamber entrance is!” Harry exclaims before Crowley can miracle them back to their common room. “But we’ll only show if you promise to take us with you!”

Crowley agrees only because it would help to know where the damned Chamber is and snaps his fingers to alert Aziraphale to come to where he is. The angel appears in a single second, just there and perhaps it finally sinks in for Ron that he is indeed an angel.

The boys lead them into the bathroom on the second floor—the girls bathroom—and engage in a brief conversation with a ghost that seems a little too familiar with Harry. Crowley decides he’s going to miracle the ghost away when all is said and done but there’s more pressing things to deal with so he focuses instead on the fact that Harry is inspecting the taps on the sinks in the bathroom.

“It’s this one, see,” Harry says, “there’s a snake symbol. This is the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.”

Crowley looks around at the bathroom. “Bit anticlimactic really, a bathroom,” he comments and Aziraphale rolls his eyes at him.

“Just open the Chamber, Crowley,” Aziraphale instructs and Crowley does just that, speaking in the hissing sibilance that comes as naturally to him as flying.

The Chamber opening is a little more dramatic but still falls flat considering everything. Them having to slide down a huge chute to get to the Chamber is just stupid but for a snake it’s a decent entry point. Crowley is tempted to transform here and now but holds off until they come to the Chamber proper.

None of them expect to see a boy in outdated robes standing inside the Chamber looking quite comfortable while Ginny Weasley lays unconscious at his feet.

Ron and Harry instantly rush over to Ginny, Aziraphale with them to keep them safe and check on the girl. Crowley instead approaches the boy, his eyes narrowed and nose twitching. There is evil here and it comes from the boy.

“It’s no use,” the boy says. “She’ll be dead soon.”

Ron jumps to his feet. “She’s my sister!” Aziraphale holds the boy back with a gentle grip that Ron doesn’t fight and the strange boy just stares at him blankly.

“She’ll still be dead soon,” the boy repeats and Crowley’s lips curl in disgust. Insensitive bastard. “So will the rest of you.”

“Oh, why’s that?” Crowley asks, sauntering up to the boy who stares at him with that dead expression and those very, very empty eyes. People describe snake and shark eyes as cold and dead, empty of anything but these eyes that Crowley stares into—they’re deader than anything ever made by the Almighty.

“Slytherin’s beast will answer me, it’s time really,” the boy answers after a moment, like he’s sizing up whether it’s worth answering Crowley or not. Evidently it is because the boy begins to—well—gloat at them. “All year I’ve been using her to set it free. Unfortunately it’s only ever managed to petrify people but it’s no matter—it still fulfilled its purpose in terrorising the mudbloods.”

“Ginny would never help hurt anyone!” Ron snarls, pulling against Aziraphale’s grip and the cold-eyed boy laughs.

“Not willingly no, too weak and pathetic to ever do it herself,” he sniffs, smiling a dead smile. “But the more she wrote to me the easier it was to use her to do my bidding.”

“You’re from the diary?” Harry realises, frowning. “You’re Tom Riddle.”

The boy—Tom Riddle—smiles again and it’s such a wrong smile. “I am,” he confirms, “and you—” he points a wand that must be Ginny’s at Harry “must be Harry Potter.”

“I am.”

Riddle nods. “I thought so. Tell me,” he says, stepping toward Aziraphale and the kids but he’s stopped by Crowley stepping between them. He glares at Crowley who doesn’t even bother to glare back. “Tell me, how is it you survived the killing curse?”

“What’s it matter to you?” Harry demands. “You weren’t there.”

Riddle pulls himself up taller—not much taller considering he’s stood next to Crowley who is much taller than him—trying to be impressively intimidating but it falls flat. “You survived a curse that no one can survive cast by the most powerful wizard of all time,” Riddle states, staring at Harry. “Tell me how?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because he’s Voldemort.”

Everyone looks at Crowley in varying states of surprise. Riddle recovers first.

“So you figured it out,” he drawls, looking Crowley up and down, and that dead smile seems contemplative. “I’m impressed.”

“Not hard to figure out considering how little of a soul you are,” Crowley answers with a casual shrug. It irritates Riddle into glaring at him.

“For now,” the boy agrees. “But soon the girl will be dead and I will be whole.”

“Not if we kill you first,” Aziraphale says from beside Ginny. The angel’s face is closed, the face of an angel of God not one who hides in books. This isn’t the time for softness and Aziraphale knows it.

Riddle laughs. “You can’t! I’m immortal.”

Crowley actually laughs. “Nah,” he says, “you just think you are. But you’re only human—mostly. And humans die.”

Riddle steps away from them all and Crowley remains where he stands. “Not all humans die,” Riddle declares. “I shall be the first to prove that immortality is possible.”

“Not the way you’ve gone about it.” Crowley gives Riddle a sharp smile, one that shows the fangs Crowley rarely lets be seen. It gives Riddle pause. “Not your fault, too scared of dying like regular people. Shouldn’t have split your soul though; makes you weak.”

“I am not weak!” Riddle points his wand at Crowley and fires off a spell of sickly green light. It never touches Crowley who just snaps his way out of the line of fire. “I am Lord Voldemort! I am the greatest wizard ever known! Every witch and wizard fears my name!”

“Not me, Tom,” Crowley laughs from behind the boy who spins around and throws another green light spell at him. Again Crowley snaps his way clear. “You’re just an uppity human too scare of death.”

Riddle stops talking then, focusing on trying to kill Crowley—and he is trying to kill him, the green light he throws at the demon every time is unmistakeable—but he always misses[12].

“Where’s the diary?” Aziraphale looks around the trio of children, a little desperately, and both boys start looking around also.

“There!” Harry exclaims, pointing toward the massive relief of a man’s face on the far side of the Chamber. In the water near the base of the relief is a small rectangle-shaped object. The diary. “I’ll get it!”

“Harry—” Aziraphale tries and fails to grab Harry’s hand as the boy darts forward, racing across the Chamber while Riddle and Crowley dance about. The angel performs a miracle that sees to it Harry won’t be harmed by any stray magic but he’s more focused on having his child back here now than on paying attention to whatever Riddle is saying.

Aziraphale realises rather abruptly that he should have been paying attention.

The stone relief shifts, the mouth of the face opening wide just as Harry reaches the diary.

“Speak to me Slytherin, greatest of Hogwarts four!” Riddle is standing facing the relief, hand out. From within the statue a sound like wind rustling through trees emanates.

It is not the sound of wind in the trees.

“Kill them!” Riddle orders and the giant serpent that emerges lunges immediately for the nearest living thing to it.

Harry.

“NO!” Aziraphale screams. Ron screams.

Crowley roars.

The basilisk is slammed into mere centimetres from Harry by a form as large and as scaled as itself. Something far older and far, far more powerful.

Something that is protecting its young.

“Harry! Get back here now!” Aziraphale shouts and Harry turns, eyes wide, face paler than ever. “Now!”

Harry throws himself across the Chamber and collapses beside Aziraphale and Ron, the diary clutched in his hands. Aziraphale rips it from him, drops it on the floor and without even hesitating, slams the small dagger he pulls from his coat into the heart of it.

It screams.

There’s no other way to describe it. The diary screams an unholy sound that pierces their ears and makes both boys hunch over in pain. Aziraphale grits his teeth and focuses.

“BE GONE FOUL FIEND!”

Riddle screams in tandem with the diary, his form crackling, beams of golden light bursting out until he suddenly explodes in a rush of light.

The moment the diary is no more than shrivelled, burnt husk of a book, Aziraphale pulls Ginny and Ron toward him, snagging Harry with his hand, and miracles them out of the Chamber directly to the infirmary.

Crowley is left to deal with the king of serpents alone.

Not that he needs the help.

The basilisk is strong, it’s a thousand years old, but it’s nothing compared to a demon like Crowley. Nothing compared to the one who created serpents long before the world existed. It hisses and snaps at him, tries to use its eyes against him, but it can’t because Crowley cannot be petrified.

He’s protected because he is the source of its power like he is the source of all serpents.

Any other snake would recognise him, defer to him. But this basilisk is mad with age and isolation, given purpose by a shade and doesn’t care anymore. It’s as rabid as any snake can be and it’s a mercy to put it down.

Crowley doesn’t feel merciful when he tears flesh and scales from it. Doesn’t feel merciful when it does the same and he takes more in return.

He feels nothing but a burning wrath of selfish protectiveness and when he plunges his fangs into the neck of the basilisk, he digs deep and pours hellfire into it, burning the basilisk to nothing but a hollow shell of what it was.

It’s death throes are dramatic but end soon enough.

Aziraphale is waiting in Dumbledore’s office for Crowley. The angel, Ron, and Harry were dragged up there the moment Pomfrey informed McGonagall of their sudden appearance with Ginny—bleary-eyed and confused but mostly okay, the girl remained in the infirmary. He knows Crowley will be fine. Even if he’s discorporated, he’ll come back. Bit awkward explaining the paperwork but Aziraphale knows Crowley is More Than Capable explaining his actions in a favourable light.

That doesn’t stop him from pacing fretfully while Harry and Ron sit quietly. McGonagall is calling Ron’s family, the Weasley’s distraught over their missing daughter so suddenly returned when the door to the office opens and Aziraphale stops, smiling at the door.

His smile drops when he sees Albus fucking Dumbledore there instead of his demon.

“Headmaster!” McGonagall exclaims, ending the firecall. She stares at Dumbledore who gives her a twinkling nod. “You’re back.”

“The board reinstated me when they learnt a student had been taken into the Chamber,” Dumbledore informs them, looking at Ron and Harry. “Your sister is perfectly fine mister Weasley. Madame Pomfrey is keeping her in the infirmary overnight to give her a chance to rest.”

Aziraphale doesn’t give two-hoots what else Dumbledore is about to say when the headmaster turns to look at him but is fortunate to not find out when the door opens again and Crowley storms in.

Well, ‘storms’ isn’t quite accurate.

It’s more like Crowley half falls, half stomps inside the office, walking at an angle like he’s lugging a heavy suitcase in one hand and Aziraphale looks to see and—it’s not a suitcase.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale exclaims, disgusted. “That is unsanitary!”

“It’s dead, angel,” Crowley responds, lugging the head of the basilisk inside the office that it shouldn’t fit inside but does. He drops it in a messy pile beside the door, makes his way over to Aziraphale and gives the angel a smile. “Not a problem anymore. Poked its eyes out.”

Crowley is saved from whatever Aziraphale is about to say to him when the door to the office opens again and Lucius Malfoy marches in with Cornelius Fudge behind him. A house-elf follows but that’s an afterthought[13].

The fire flares to life and the Weasley parents step through into the office and this makes the office quite full. The head of a basilisk adds nothing to the décor or the smell but it does make it quite interesting when the newcomers all realise it’s there.

“It’s dead,” Crowley points out helpfully and his smile is wide and toothy, fangs in full view, eyes brighter and golden and no longer even pretending to be human. Aziraphale seems to stare at him for a while, focused on Crowley’s eyes. The demon resolves to ask the angel about that later. “No eyes either. Perfectly safe now.”

“The- the creature from the Chamber of Secrets I presume?” Malfoy asks and Crowley nods. “I see. How was it—dispatched?”

Crowley’s grin widens. “By me.”

No one seems to know how to take that statement.

“Th- that’s preposterous! You- you’re-” Fudge splutters and Crowley finally, finally does the one thing he’s wanted to do since he met the man.

The demon snarls a hissing warning, the kind that a particularly large and angry cobra makes when it’s been pissed off. It has the desired effect of freezing the short bowler-hat-wearing idiot mid-sentence.

“Now dear,” Aziraphale says, placing a hand on Crowley’s harm. “No need to traumatise the man, he seems delicate enough as is[14].”

Crowley snorts. “Understatement.” He looks over at Harry and Ron. “You okay?” he asks and both of them nod at him.

Molly and Arthur Weasley are beside Ron in a moment, evidently overcoming their own shock and whatever fear they feel to be with their son. They lecture the boy even as they praise him but it’s a little too heavy on the lecturing for Aziraphale’s tastes but they’re his parents. He’ll simply praise Ron for his bravery later.

“The snake is dead, it was the diary—” Aziraphale holds up clear bag with a mostly destroyed diary in it—fire is effective at destroying things after all—with a prim smile “—and the mandrakes are ready early,” Crowley says and just like that, the mandrakes are indeed ready early and madame Pomfrey is able to start applying the potion to students the moment it’s finished by Snape and Sprout are finished with it.

No one can argue with what Crowley has said because there is indeed proof the snake is dead—a great big head—that the diary is responsible—confirmed when curse-breakers take a look at it and sense the echo of Pure Evil—and the mandrakes are ready when Sprout is heard screeching about them and running pell-mell down the corridors to Snape’s quarters to drag him to his office to start brewing.

Of course, that doesn’t stop Malfoy from being a pretentious dick about things or Fudge from stuttering and spluttering in pointless outrage, but it is entertaining to witness.

This is how Aziraphale realises something about the house-elf behind Malfoy who seems to be performing a complicated charades routine to them. It’s Harry who realises what the house-elf is about.

Long-story-short, Harry ends up winning the loyalty of a house-elf named Dobby that is freed when Lucius Malfoy somehow gives the house-elf a sock quite miraculously after storming out of Dumbledore’s office. Fudge leaves in a quiet huff after Dumbledore reassures him that there is no cause for alarm. Ron goes back to the Gryffindor common room with McGonagall, the Weasleys head to the infirmary to see their daughter and Harry goes with Crowley and Aziraphale to their quarters in the library.

The rest of term passes in a gentle haze of exams—not cancelled because Aziraphale just refused no matter what argument Dumbledore made—and bright June sunshine until it’s time for the train to depart from the station and the trio return to London for another summer.

Unbeknownst to them, things are in motion and by the time of Harry’s thirteenth-birthday a strange dog will show up on their doorstep and dog-the-mongrel will take quite kindly to it leading to Harry adopting another pet no matter what angel or demon say.

[1] Prior to Aziraphale and Crowley arriving at Hogwarts, Muggle Studies was a bit of a joke subject; the sort one took to get an easy grade because you could make up quite literally anything you liked about muggles and come out with a top mark. Naturally, considering how wildly inaccurate the class was, both immortal beings took offense at it and set to revising it with the sort of dogged-determinedness that only Offended people seem able to achieve. Thus, politics, economics, science, culture, and a whole host of other things—including music and literature; respectively Crowley and Aziraphale’s insistence—now form the bulk of the new curriculum for Muggle Studies. It is a daunting amount of information shoved into four years’ worth of schooling—should students continue into seventh year—but it has made the subject highly desirable and viewed favourably by higher education and future employers alike.

[2] This is an unfortunate side effect for Ron of being one of seven children and the second youngest. He’s quite used to just dealing with things himself. This also, as a result, means he doesn’t have much ambition beyond being noticed and paid attention to by his mother. Any reason will do at some point. Especially when his mother is ever so focused on her children doing well but seems to forget that Ron needs support and attention beyond the basics of parenting. He feels a little pushed aside compared to his little sister, a little forgotten compared to Fred and George’s antics, a little stupid compared to Percy, Bill, and Charlie. But he loves his family. Which makes all those feelings a horrible little mass inside him that he feels guilty about feeling in the first place. In the end, this is partly why it is a good thing that this is not the same lifetime where Harry is not raised by an angel and a demon—if it were, Ron would feel outdone by another child whom his mother would essentially adopt as an extra son.

[3] If Crowley spends several hours a day fantasising about that blush then that is his business and Not To Be Discussed Further.

[4] It will take another few years before Harry is effectively out of this mindset enough to automatically trust Crowley and Aziraphale with everything and anything that even remotely poses a threat or is Of Interest. This is actually quite good and shows an amazing amount of progress for someone who grew up emotionally abused by people who were supposed to love them. Of course, considering some of the things that will happen to Harry in the next five years, it is somewhat irritating for him, Crowley, and Aziraphale collectively. Not to mention Hermione and Ron.

[5] This is actually true. Ron isn’t bitter about his siblings getting more attention from his mother than he does. He gets plenty enough after all. But he would rather prefer his mother get his favourite colour right for once so he doesn’t have a maroon jumper to wear for Christmas.

[6] For once this is actually what they intend to do, not just prevacate around the issue but actually Speak Organised Thought Words About It. This is, naturally, a daunting task and something of Cosmic Importance.

[7] The author is most certainly not basing this on their experiences with brothers and male friends who all have this exact thing in common. To the point that one friend sat up in a dead sleep, muttered something about “it not being right” and then flopped back down to sleep next to the author who was partly crushed by a big as fuck rottweiler who was the softest thing ever. And also very gassy.

[8] Adults often assume that children aren’t capable of being this sort of self-aware and practical. Adults are—as is to be expected—often wrong about children.

[9] This, incidentally, is a good thing for when exams start since both of them are able to explain and elaborate on what they’re saying in their charms essays. Filius is beside himself when he realises that both Ron and Harry are more than smart enough to understand more complex concepts in charms and sets himself the task of encouraging both of them to continue charms past fifth year no matter what.

[10] A “butty” for ya’ll to know is a sandwich but “butty” is very much a common word in the UK and especially where I live in the North West so hush.

[11] Aziraphale deigns to walk through the castle to Crowley’s location as opposed to miracling himself beside the demon. Part of this is to give the angel time to think and part of it is to give the demon time to think. There are many things that must be done and many things that must be decided. Time is needed but stopping time would be a pointless waste considering how precious time is currently.

[12] He does come close a few times that have Aziraphale biting at his knuckles as he remains with the kids. He’s waiting for his opportunity to miracle them out of the Chamber and also take out the diary but he is a little distracted watching Crowley literally dance with death.

[13] Of course, dear readers, we know this house-elf is not an afterthought but this lot don’t know that.

[14] This is, of course, an understatement considering how very sensitive Fudge is to any sort of criticism or critical thinking that doesn’t mesh with his deluded world view.

#Good Omens #GOmens #Ineffable husbands #Crowley #Aziraphale #HP #Harry Potter #Absconding with Harry verse #fanfic #part six #i'm dead #night

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forisobel · 5 years

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REVISITING HARRY POTTER, PART ONE . . .

harry potter was a staple for my childhood. beit through the books or movies, i excited at the prospect of following young harry through out his adventures at hogwarts. i’ve been to the harry potter studios in london twice now and display the full collection of books and movies on my shelves, each organised delicately in order. i saw fantastic beasts in cinemas and was mildly confused before being well and truly disgusted watching the most recent crimes of grindelwald. over the past few weeks i have been troubled by one question, how did we get here?

so today we’re jumping in the way way back machine and riding it all the way to 2001, and the release of harry potter and the philosopher’s stone.

my memories of this movie going into it were about as good as my own eleventh birthday, hazy and out of reach. this had frustrated me because it wasn’t the kind of film that was sitting, collecting dust, on my shelf. i would often throw it on in the background while i was doing any number of mind numbing tasks. i could only recall the feeling of great nostalgia that came with it; i was a child again, watching from the living room floor. i could tell you nothing of the intricacies of it’s film making.

over the past twenty-two years, the harry potter franchise has grown, and in some respects metastasised, into a money making machine. the eight movies alone generated over 7 billion u.s. dollars, with harry potter and the deathly hallows, part two contributing to 1.3 billion of that. in the wake of the train wreck that was the crimes of grindelwald, i began to think about how the series managed to devolve to that point. that was when i realised i could recall nothing about the franchise as an object. i could tell you the full, expansive plot of each movie, but i couldn’t comment critically on those movies objectively.

before continuing, i would just like to make clear that there is nothing wrong with liking a movie franchise or a television series purely for nostalgia. all i am doing here is looking at each harry potter film objectively and asking the question how did we get to here?

i’m going to take a wild guess and say most people here know the plot of harry potter and the philosopher’s stone, but going to give you the run down anyway. just in case you need a lil refresher.

an orphan named harry potter learns on his eleventh birthday that he is the son of martyr witch and wizard, lily and james potter. he is invited to attend the highly esteemed english boarding school for wizards, hogwarts, where he forms close friendships with two of his classmates, ron and hermoine. with the help of his new friends, harry seeks to uncover the illusive truth behind his parents’ untimely deaths.

the film was released in 2001 and cost 130 million u.s. dolla dolla to make. it was directed by chris columbus, an american filmmaker. columbus was already well established in the film industry, having directed home alone, and would go on to direct the next two harry potter films. clearly he’s having a bit of a mid-life crisis right now, as his recent projects include the 2015 film pixels. that’s a yikes for him.

i’ve watched the philosopher's stone a few times this week and have managed to cobble together all of my thoughts and comments into one handy list.

the score was phenomenal . . .

kicking things off with an obvious one, i can’t believe i never comprehended how good the score for this movie. the opening track the most recogniseable, however, the whole viewing experience is enhanced by the score running throughout. i am full on willing to proclaim john williams as a god of film scores.

harry was one scary boi . . .

in one of the first scenes of the film, harry and the dursleys go to a zoo to celebrate dudley’s birthday. while there, harry discovers he can talk to snakes and accidentally imprisons his cousin in the snake’s enclosure. this does not faze harry at all, unaware at this time that he is a wizard, and laughs as he watches his aunt and cousin in a state of panic. okay, harry...sadist. this happens again as he watches his cousin grow a pig tail. later on, during a flying lesson, harry threatens to knock malfoy off his broom. like, calm the fuck down, harry! fucking believe you. harry was actually kind of sinister in the first act. like damn.

what was some of that acting ? ? ?

one of the reasons why i wanted to revisit this series was that i have a bit of a pet peeve when it comes to child actors in media. i sometimes forget how heavily the harry potter series actually rides on child actors, being that i was watching the movie at the same age of the actors. now, i am not maligning radcliffe, watson or grint at all, but what was some of that line delivery, lads? the acting was definitely not bad but some parts just felt awkward and forced. i don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but sometimes i felt a little weird watching little forced interactions. maybe it just adds to the charm!

hagrid can make one quick get away . . .

as hagrid and harry make their way through the train station, harry is distracted by his ticket. when he looks up to ask hagrid about the platform, hagrid is gone. where the fuck did hagrid go? either he had to apparate, which he ain’t allowed to do, not to mention harry would have heard him do that, or he had to run away. is hagrid the richard kuklinski of the wizarding world or am i missing something?

hermoine practices magic underage . . .

now, it has been a while since i’ve watched the whole series, but i am pretty sure hermoine shouldn’t be perfecting basic spells at home. like, what’s the story there, j.k. rowling?

wtf is professor flitwick ? ? ?

this was the first time i noticed all of the prosthetics on professor flitwick’s face. nightmare fuel, lads, i am telling you!

harry is a pot stirrer . . .

i think we’re going to need another feather here, professor. shut the fuck up, harry! no one wanted your imput. i think she heard you. you don’t say! nobody asked you, drama queen. quit stirring the pot. jeez.

wizards are immune to splinters . . .

so you’re telling me that hemoine can be pelted with broken pieces of wood and harry and ron can pick up said pieces of wood and throw them with force and not get any splinters? i think not.

what is harry doing during that first match ? ? ?

during the first quidditch match, harry spends most of his time sitting on his broom reacting to what everyone else is doing. do your job, bitch!

the c.g.i. is actually okay . . .

the c.g.i. and other special effects are of course dated now, considering how much computer generated pictures have improved since the 2000s. however, all in all, i think the film has aged well in terms of it’s cinematography and general design. fluffy, norbert the dragon and the fast paced quidditch matches all look pretty good, unless you go looking for flaws.

norbert was adorable . . .

i would die for norbert.

tom felton's facial expressions were so good . . .

this was something i only noticed as the film progressed. tom felton did a great job at providing me with a good chuckle with his facial expressions. he doesn’t actually feature in the film a lot, consider how pivotal his character would eventually become to the series, yet he certainly makes an impact in some of his scenes.

the professors were so fucking dumb . . .

hagrid is far to easy of a victim here, but mcgonagall has no excuse. shouldn’t the three of them have been on lockdown since the troll incident. i understand, to a degree, her lenience with harry, but not with ron and hermoine. shouldn’t she have found it a little more weird that the three of them knew about the philosopher’s stone? regardless of how they came to find out about it, they could so easily have told anyone about it being in hogwarts. surely that would have jeprodised their operation?

ron was full on ready to die ? ? ?

did ron actually believe he was going to die there? like, excuse me ron, but what the fuck?

quirrell had some nasty ass nails . . .

someone cut those things, please!

voldemort’s character design . . .

i wouldn’t have noticed this the first time around, obviously, but voldemort has a nose in this first rendition of his design? i can kind of understand why he devolves into his more snakelike appearance of the goblet of fire but it’s kind of weird to see him like that in hindsight.

all in all, the philosopher’s stone encapsulates the heart of what harry potter is. i found it quite hard to return to this film, knowing where the franchise would end up. this film and others following it would certainly generate a lot of cash. but films like the crimes of grindelwald frustrate me as they are nothing but cash grab. it exploits an originally wholesome, well-meaning series and destroys its integrity. trying to fit these two films into the same universe is like trying to force together two positive ends of a magnet.

the philosopher’s stone is most certainly not a perfect film, and for me sits in about seventh place in terms of ranking all the movies. but it perfectly represents the essence of the series.

alienating it from the series and taking it objectively, i would give the film a five out of ten. it was never going to be my favourite film, and it wasn’t even my favourite harry potter film during my childhood. looking at it now, there are parts of the script i don’t really like and some line delivery is hard to get on board with. however, this isn’t enough to take me out of the film completely and i can certainly enjoy myself while watching.

this film is definitely a ten out of ten for nostalgia though. i think everyone can remember what they were doing and the feelings they were experiencing the first time they watched the philosopher’s stone. there is something warming and home-y about it. the truth is that this film not made for me any more. it was made for an eleven year old. i’m not sure how much someone who didn’t watch the film in the childhood would get out of this film. the characters were so relatable to me and as i made my way through the books and the movies i felt as if i was growing old and maturing with them. i’m sure i’m not the only one to feel this way and i’m definitely not the last.

in conclusion, this was a nice film to return to, and certain an experience i would recommend to anyone considering it. no, it was not as groundbreaking and thrilling as i once thought it would be. it certainly also makes things such as cursed child and the crimes of grindelwald more frustrating. but, it is certainly a nice one to come home to if you’re stressed out or feeling some january blues.

next month, i shall return to the world of harry potter to revisit the chamber of secrets. until then, you will have to make do with two more lists and two proper reviews. i have a hold the dark demolition in progress for next week, which shall be fun! but until next friday, farewell.

originally posted on the 13th of january . . .

#films #movies #revisiting #harry potter #daniel radcliffe #emma watson #rupert grint #j k rowling #the philosopher's stone

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 5 years

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Haven Raised Chapter 8

Summary: Harry's life is completely changed when his aunt and uncle are forced to take him to a funeral at a relatives. Now being raised by Primrose Evans, her sister Grace and the citizens of Havenfall, his life is going to be a roller coaster.

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Ron Weasley had never had a friend like Harry Potter before. Hell, he had few friends in general. Being the younger son of the Weasley family meant he tended to get branded the same as his siblings- though thankfully that hadn’t happened to him since he got into Hufflepuff and his disability was discovered.

Harry was a nice kid with what his mom would probably call a big heart. He loved animals, had a blast doing magic and like to chat with Ron about anything. He also had the habit of double checking with teachers about everything.

“When you say five inches Professor, do you mean that as a maximum or minimum?” He asked McGonagall one day during class when she was assigning a topic.

“Both Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said after a moment. “While I do like the enthusiasm of some students, I prefer you all keep your essays short for now. When you reach sixth year is when I would like you to go beyond the structure.” Granger looked horrified, eyes wide. “I would talk to the other professors about their own thoughts on how much extra they are willing to accept.”

That got some great news coming from the teachers- many students had been embarrassed by other students who wrote so much for their papers. Learning that most teachers didn’t like too long papers made everyone pleased.

“I do enjoy a good extra ten inches for third year and up, but I prefer my first to second years having only five extra,” Flitwick said to the class when asked. “In my seventh-year class, thirty inches extra is the maximum.”

Everyone else had similar thoughts- and while there was some backlash from people like Granger, most people adapted easily enough.

Harry was also interesting because of his family. He had this thing called a phone he usually kept hidden from people, as he didn’t want to deal with jealousy over it and because it technically was illegal.

“If you look at it sideways,” Harry said. “It is magically made in the USA, just also technically muggle to. So… yeah.” He used the phone to contact his family a lot- mostly his mom and aunt, though he did talk to his mom’s boss and coworker who Harry grew up around too. Ron even got to chat with Prim- she insisted on it. She was really nice.

Grace was funny too, and he compared her to the twins from time to time. Just… nicer.

All in all, Ron was happy to have a friend like Harry.

Even when dealing with crazy animals.

“I don’t mind it, but c’mon Harry!” Ron said, as they walked back from a morning of dealing with Hagrid and his newest rescue- a mean-spirited cat-like thing with two tails Hagrid said was once a pet that was abandoned. “We keep getting bit and everything!”

“It’s fun though.” Harry defended himself. Ron sighed.

“Yeah, okay. It’s fun.” It kinda was. He never really interacted with a bunch of animals before, and he really did enjoy it. Mostly cause Harry was in love with all of them and loved talking about it. He lit right up, this big grin on his face.

It was awesome.

“Were you two on the grounds?” asked a voice. Ron scowled as they turned to see Granger. She was so annoying- sure, not as annoying as he thought but still a know-it-all who seemed way to put out about the essay thing.

“The groundskeeper lets us help him with his animals. I wish to do something with magizoology one day and enjoy helping him out,” Harry said politely, adopting his normal formal tone.

“Oh.” Granger nodded. “That makes sense. I haven’t done much research yet on different magical careers…”

“I only did briefly. I really like animals.” Harry shrugged. Granger nodded and that was all they said, going their separate ways. The passed by one of the Patil twins who Harry shared greetings with in Hindi- the three of them had become somewhat friends given they all spoke it- and headed towards the Great Hall. “I wonder what my mother is planning on doing for Halloween this year…”

“Huh?” Ron asked.

“Muggles dress up for Halloween,” Harry explained as they entered the Great Hall for lunch. It was Sunday, so most people were treating it like a brunch. “My mother mentioned in her latest message that she and JD were talking about something…”

“Will you be alright?” Justin asked as the two sat down. “I mean…” he made a motion with his hand. Ron frowned in confusion but Harry seemed to understand.

“Perhaps it seems callous but I mourn what they could have been. And I have a mother, aunt and other somewhat paternal figures in my life,” Harry told Justin. “My mother and I mourned them the first year I was with her, but… well, I want to live my life. I love them, yes but…”

“I get it,” Justin said. Ron cursed, realizing what they were talking about. He should have remembered…

“Is one of them really a paternal figure given how you talk about them?” Wayne asked in amusement. Harry went red and everyone burst into snickers.

“I thought I would be safe from this.” He complained. “He’s cute and smart and nice, okay?” they just laughed harder.

It was really nice having Harry Potter as a friend.

-0-

Happy Halloween! The text said on Tuesday morning. Harry eagerly opened the pictures that had been sent as well, wondering what they were.

He burst into laughter upon seeing his mother dressed in leather, her hair dyed orange. She had thick makeup on and fake piercings. Meanwhile, JD was wearing a nice skirt, their hair combed over to look like it wasn’t half shaved, clear piercings put into the holes, and a very nice shirt and scarf.

“They swapped!” Harry laughed, showing it to Ron who laughed politely. “Just wait- you’ll meet them one day and see how crazy it is,” Harry told him.

“I believe you!” Ron laughed, the two going to classes. Most teachers seemed awkward around Harry who just sighed.

Of course.

At lunch, they overheard a few of the Gryffindor girls chatting.

“I can’t believe she ran off like that.” One said to the Patil twin in Gryffindor.

“Fay was really rude to Hermione.” Said the twin, her face twisting. “I hope she’s okay.”

“I think she’s crying in the second hall on the third-floor bathroom…” Harry frowned. That didn’t sound good.

“You guys hear?” Wayne asked them. “Dunbar called Granger a know-it-all with no friends and she ran off crying.”

“That’s rather awful,” Harry said, frowning deeper.

“Maybe she just needs a good cry? I think she’d friends with Longbottom.” Ron suggested. “He might go and look for her soon enough.”

“I believe so.” Harry Agreed. But come dinner time- after their herbology lesson which Granger did not attend- she was still not around. Harry frowned and Ron sighed, feeling guilty a little. He’d said a few bad things about Granger himself- mostly when he was still holding a grudge against her for the train but… well, it seemed it was too much for her.

“Perhaps we should look for her?” Harry asked Ron. “I know she isn’t in our house but it doesn’t look like the Gryffindors are bothering.” His voice was disdainful and even some of the other first years agreed, everyone aware of the situation.

“Alright,” Ron said, about to stand up. They had just finished their food and the Halloween feast was casual enough no one would care if they left early. “Save is some dessert yeah?” He asked Wayne who nodded his agreement.

The Great Hall doors burst open and their defense professor- a man named Quirrel who was extremely boring and had an awful stutter- came running into the hall.

“Troll! Troll in the dungeons!!!” He screamed. “Thought you needed to know.” He fell face forward and everyone was silent before the screaming started.

Harry felt his heart screaming as he tried to breathe, eyes widening. Barking filled his ears as Spot appeared in a burst of flame, sensing his distress. Ron was cursing and trying to keep Harry calm while everything was crazy around them.

A loud bang caused everything to fall silent.

“Prefects! Lead your houses to their common rooms or to the designated safe zones,” Dumbledore said in a loud voice. “We will go deal with the troll. Seventh years, I ask you have your wands ready.”

He and the teachers leave then, heading quickly out while Susie and a few other prefects all gather up the Hufflepuffs. Harry manages to calm down enough to stumble along with them- at the back of the group with Ron- when he breathes out.

“Granger,” Ron swears loudly and the two boys look each other in the eyes before they break off from the group.

“Know anything about Trolls?” He asks Harry who grimaces.

“A little. Enough to know that Spot will be our first time of defense. Very strong, not bright, head is a weak spot.” Harry recited. As they walked down the halls, Spot suddenly began growling. They froze, as a disgusting smell filled their noses.

An ugly site passed by them- a large gaint dragging a club behind him.

“Shit!” Ron said, the two ducking behind the wall, Spot following. The troll wandered off to another room and Spot began growling again.

“Oh no,” Harry said just as the screaming started.

“Granger!” Both boys cried out, running towards the bathroom. They got into the bathroom to find Granger cowering on the other side of the bathroom with the troll coming after her. Spot barked and attacked the troll. Harry ran over to Granger while Ron grabbed some debris to start throwing.

“Granger! We have to move!” Harry said, trying to pull her up but she was frozen in fear.

Ron begins them yanked out his wand upon seeing the troll try to go for Spot with his club.

He shouted the first spell that came to mind- a spell they had learned the day before in Charms.

The club was raised up, and remembering Harry’s words, he moved the club so it fell directly on the troll’s head.

The troll fell with a bang.

The three kids all stared at each in shock, while teachers came running in.

“What is going on here?!”

-0-

Minerva McGonagall was well aware of the fact that sometimes her Gryffindors weren’t the kindest children. She usually put a good stop to it- though she has to admit she had slacked before. Learning that Severus partially blamed her for never stopping her students and used it as an excuse why he joined the Death Eaters… well, it made her more aware of how bad it could get.

Still, she had never been aware of bullying inside the house!

“I have never been so disappointed in my Gryffindors,” she told the entire house. Fay Dunbar flinched as she was the reason Hermione Granger had been in that bathroom in the first place. And the reason the Hufflepuff students were refusing to let Hermione go back to her dorm, saying they didn’t trust the Gryffindors.

Severus has been too pleased by the fact that Minerva needed to face bullying problems in her own house. Child.

“I will be giving Miss Granger her own room. Head Girl Jacobson- you have lost your room for not dealing with this properly.” The Head Girl flinched and looked down. “Goodnight.” She left without another word and went up to her office where Pomona was waiting with whiskey. “You are a goddess.”

“I try.” The shorter woman laughed. “... do you think detention was too stern?”

“No, I believe they did disobey the headmaster and needed a detention. And us speaking to their parents.” McGonagall sighed, sipping her whiskey.

“This will be fun.” Pomona Said, shaking her head. “... was Severus too much?”

“Aye,” McGonagall replied, letting her accent deep through. “He’s gotta point bout me lettin’ to much go but…” She shook her head.

“A schoolboy with a grudge.” Pomona agreed. She sighed. “Albus blames himself.”

“Stupid men.”

“Agreed.”

“... do you know why Severus has a bloody leg?” Minerva asked Pomona.

“I assume he tripped or burned it with his potions. He’s always doing that.” Pomona shook her head in disgust.

“Really stupid man.”

“Agreed.”

-0-

Harry, Ron, and Hermione found themselves hanging out more and more together. With classes all different this usually meant they hung out in the library or Hermione sat with them at the Hufflepuff table.

Apparently knocking out a mountain troll together meant you were the best of friends afterward. Hermione even had some interesting ideas on animals and liked to go with them to Hagrid’s to meet all of his animals.

She and Ron found themselves often worried about how Harry seemed to adopt more and more of Hagrid’s love of dangerous animals.

“He’s a beauty!” Harry said, cooing over what looked like a bundle of spikes. That were venomous. Spot was panting by his feet, unconcerned about the fact his master was petting a ball of death.

“This is just weird,” Ron Said. Hermione grimaced. She definitely had to agree.

The door to the hut opened up to reveal Professors McGonagall and Sprout.

“Even in’ Professors!” Hagrid said cheerfully.

“Good evening Hagrid. Miss Granger, Misters Potter, and Weasley? Can you come with us please?” McGonagall asked and the three trades confused looks before doing so- Harry pouting about leaving the animal behind.

The three followed their heads of houses up a few floors in the castle, to an office that when the door opened up…

“Hermione!”

“Harry James Potter!”

“Ronald Bilius Weasley!”

All three students went pale at swing their parents, the group all glaring, except for Mr. and Mrs. Granger.

Harry winced as Prim strode forward. She was wearing her bowling alley uniform and she looked furious.

“You ran towards a troll!” She shouted as a similar conversation was taking place with Ron and two redheads he assumed were his parents. Hermione was being hugged by hers.

“I… we knew Hermione might be in danger,” Harry said softly.

“Why didn’t you tell someone or a teacher?” Prim asked. She sounded scared as she went to hug him tight. “When I heard the news I was so scared, Harry! I was terrified!”

“I… I don’t know any adults here well yet and…” Harry breathed heavily and hugged his mom tighter. Prim blinked and sighed.

“I really hate the Dursley family and all your old teachers back in Surrey,” she told him, pulling away. Harry has issues trusting adults at times. He had been hurt by so many before… it was lucky he trusted her and the others. “Next time please go to a teacher?”

“I hope there won’t be a next time but I will if there is,” Harry responded. The two hugged again. Prim stood up to dust herself off as the other conversations wound down, the redheads coming over.

“Hello,” said the woman. “I’m Molly Weasley, and this is my husband, Arthur.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Prim said, shaking their hands. “I’m Primrose Evans though most do call me Prim.” She turned to the Grangers who smiled at her.

“Jean and Daniel Granger.” The man said, shaking her hand. “You look pretty young…”

“Harry is my second cousin. I took him in when his maternal aunt and uncle were declared unfit.” Prim said stiffly. The Grangers nodded and the adults began chatting while the kids gathered around each other.

“Your moms seem nice,” Hermione said.

“My mom is the best,” Harry said, grinning. Ron grinned too.

“My mum is amazing. Dad’s great too.” Harry shrugged.

“I have my mom. Don’t need a dad.” The group winded down a little and went back to collectively speaking to everyone. Kids included.

“So Harry, are you going to come home for Christmas?” Prim asked.

“Of course,” Harry said. “I would never miss the party at the alley.”

“Razi would miss you.” Prim teased and Harry ignored her firmly.

“Are you and dad still going to go see Charlie?” Ron asked his mom who nodded.

“We are,” Molly said. “Are you and your brothers comfortable staying here?”

“Yeah,” Ron said, though he felt a bit sad when Hermione said she was going home to see her whole family. Maybe if he was in Gryffindor it would be different, but he was alone in Hufflepuff.

“...How many sons do you have here at Hogwarts?” Prim asked Molly.

“Four, including Ron.” The older woman replied.

“Well, if they wish, they are more then welcome to come home with Harry this year. I don’t mind having more children around at all.” Prim shrugged.

“Oh! We couldn’t…” Molly hesitated while Arthur grinned.

“I think the boys would have fun! Though I insist we give you some money for food at least.” He told her. Prim nodded and it was hashed out between the adults while Harry and Ron cheered.

“As well, we can set up a Skype session for Hermione,” Prim said, nodding to the Grangers who beamed.

“Skype?” Arthur asked in interest.

“It’s a computer program that lets people talk face to face anywhere in the world,” Prim explained.

“Oh! Like a floo call!” Arthur nodded. Molly looked amazed.

“This is going to be the best Christmas ever!” Harry cheered happily.

Yeah, I did this because Christmas is coming up so we get a Christmas chapter up around the same time. We will have one extra chapter before then!!

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Hope you like and plot points: -Essay thing! Most teachers I know have a maximum and a minimum they prefer. I can’t see Hogwarts being different- with so many students, having no maximum amount of inches is silly. Harry asking is because he is used to there being a maximum. So yeah. NOT A DIG ON HERMIONE. Mostly this was done because I remember some kid being scolded for three extra pages for an essay. The teacher had three classes of thirty students. Guy had no time to do shit. He hated those extra pages.

-I grew up calling adults my parents were friends with- or my friend’s parents- their first names without Miss or Mr or whatever. I never heard anyone say differently until like… I was sixteen, reading fanfiction and found out it was a thing.

#havenfall is for lovers #harry potter #haven raised

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potter-plotholes · 6 years

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Comments For What Albus Dumbledore Should Have Done To Protect The Sorcerer's Stone?

The following are the comments from this post I wrote about “What Albus Dumbledore Should Have Done to Protect the Sorcerer’s Stone?” from back when it used to be published on HubPages.

Le Derpz

This is a pretty good theory- However, the main problem with it is that, your implying that Albus Dumbledore is impossible to steal from. Remember, some common thief could have simply stolen it whilst he was out in the city, or London. For two, someone could have also just used the invisibility magic to sneak in and steal it. Albus is a regular old-man in the muggles world, after all. He would have absolutely no way to stop some run of the mill thief.

For two, lets also consider the last trap for protecting the sorcerers stone, IE the mirror, which would stop Voldemort from having any possible chance of stealing it, or any of his companions. If anything, though Voldemort was successful in getting all the way through, unless he went and temporarily brainwashed himself, it would be completely inaccessible to him.

For three, this also stopped EVERYONE that could possibly have any bad intentions for it to do anything to it. Plus, these traps were designed around teamwork. Something voldemort has very little of, and its a miracle that he ever got through as a ghost.

Freya Yuki

@Le Derpz - if Albus Dumbledore did decide to keep the Sorcerer's Stone with him, then why would he decide to go strolling around London or the Muggle World knowing that he had such an important item with him? If he needs to do something in the Muggle World, he could have sent someone to do it for him like how he sent Hagrid to be the one to pick up the stone from Gringotts and baby Harry from Godric's Hollow.

Also, it seems that Albus is much too busy to be taking strolls around London or even the Wizarding World anyway because of all his jobs and positions. In book 1, aside from being the Hogwarts headmaster, he was also the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, etc. It was only later on that his titles and positions got stripped from him, right?

Also, if Dumbledore uses the Fidelius Charm to keep the stone hidden with him as Secret Keeper (wrote more detailed posts about this on my blog), then even if he does decide to stroll around the Muggle World, it wouldn't matter because common thieves wouldn't be able to see or even know where the stone is thanks to the charm. Even Voldemort and anyone else who wants to get their hands on it wouldn't be able to thanks to the charm.

Because the Fidelius Charm is powerful. The only problem with it is if the Secret Keeper isn't trustworthy. But we know that Albus is like the leader of the light, the fight against Voldemort, the dark side, etc, so, with him as Secret Keeper, you can be sure the stone will be safe. It's unlikely he'll decide to join Riddle, right?

You're right about the Mirror of Erised, and, in fact, I've also written some posts speculating on what would have happened if Harry Potter hadn't shown up there. Because it was only when Harry had shown up that Voldemort was able to get the stone by using Harry to get it for him. If Harry hadn't shown up, then Voldemort would probably still be stuck there, trying to figure out a way to get the stone. So, did Harry end up messing up Dumbledore's plans to keep it safe or what?

I have to disagree about the miracle bit. The traps were really very easy, which was why 3 first year students who knew very little magic (when compared to full-grown adult wizards) were easily able to get through them.

And, while Voldemort didn't have his body during book 1 and he was pretty much like a ghost, he didn't go through the traps on his own. He was possessing Quirinus Quirrell at this time, so the 2 of them worked together to get past the traps. I'd also written some posts about the effectiveness and even the ridiculousness of these traps.

Because they really could have been better. Let's take Severus Snape's trap, for example. The puzzle thing was pretty clever, but why didn't he fill all the bottles with deadly poisons? Why'd he leave the real potions needed there for anyone to find? Imagine if all the bottles were filled with deadly poisons or potions that can incapacitate wizards, what would have happened to Quirrell then?

Or what about Filius Flitwick's trap? Why'd he leave the broomsticks there? Why'd he leave the proper key there? From all this, it really sounds like they were making things easy for the trio and even Quirrell, which isn't right at all, because wasn't the purpose of the entire thing to protect the stone and keep it from being stolen? So, what's up with those traps then?

Anonymous

It would make no sense for Dumbledore to keep the stone with him. If he keeps it with him the book would be BORING! There would be no action. Harry would never meet voldemort in the first book, and they wouldn't go through all the traps that make the book interesting.

Freya Yuki

@Anonymous - It makes plenty of sense for Albus Dumbledore to keep the stone with him because the goal is to protect the Sorcerer's Stone from Voldemort, right? Albus is said to be the only person the Dark Lord is wary of and the headmaster is like the leader of the light side, the fight against evil, so it makes perfect sense for him to be the one to keep the stone. He's a very powerful wizard and he's the most capable because of his experience and age especially because Harry Potter is still just a kid.

I think there are ways to keep the book interesting (not to mention more realistic and believable) even if Dumbledore was the one who kept the stone hidden, even if Harry and his friends never encountered the traps.

So many other things could have happened like Dumbledore being the one to confront Voldemort, like Harry trying to find more info about his parents, etc. Because he and his friends were all still just first year students. They really should not have been involved in something as dangerous as this.

Speaking of those traps - if the goal really was to protect the stone from Voldemort who is a very powerful wizard who knows lots of dark spells and the like, then how come those traps were all easily disabled by 3 first year kids who didn't even know much magic yet? It's no wonder then that Voldemort was easily able to get to the mirror.

Speaking of the Mirror of Erised - what do you think would have happened had Harry Potter not shown up there to where Quirrell was? Before Harry arrived, Quirrell was having a hard time figuring out how to get the stone out of the mirror. It was only when Potter had shown up that Voldemort told him to use Harry to get to the stone. What if Harry hadn't been there?

Would Quirrell be stuck in front of the mirror trying to figure it out until Albus showed up to stop him? Or would Voldemort eventually decide to get Quirrell to bring the mirror with him and have them run away from Hogwars?

There were so many ways the book could have gone that would still make things interesting without having a bunch of kids who barely know anything about magic get involved. And there were so many more ways for Dumbledore and Flamel to keep the Philosopher's Stone safe from Voldemort rather than just sticking it inside a school that's full of little children.

If Voldemort had been a bit more evil, he might have tried something like using the kids as hostages to force Albus to hand over the stone or something like that. He might have gone to the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets to use it to attack the kids and get the stone, etc, etc. I wrote more about this and other similar topics on my blog about Harry Potter, so you can check it out there if you're interested.

Another

Nice read, I really love your posts that question many flaws of the serie, OP ! (and the choice of Mami's picture...wished that Dumbledore hided the stone under his hat ? XD)

I agree with you that the whole business make little sense at all if we think in term of real protection and security. Dumbledore should have the Stone with him (or at least far from Hogwarts, seriously it's a school full of children, WTH ? Why not to paint a mark saying "kidnap and torture children until I give you the stone, haha, NO", but coming from author-self-insert Dumbledore Master of imorality, I'm unfazed.) protected by some powerful spells, not in a mirror that Potter hacked and helped to give it to Riddle (the irony is that the mirror is probably the only real defense in the whole stuff, troll included. Riddle&co were so busy wasting time in front of the mirror desiring something they couldn't have as long they desired it for use [thought I have doubt that Quirrell wanted it for use...]that they would probably failed.)

It would have been funny in a way and could explain the whole reason behind the choice of protections, if the stone in the mirror was a fake one, a bait, and that truly, Dumbledore have the real one with him all along (and what a way to put everyone in danger just because of a trick). And everything was a stage planned by Dumbledore to test and prepare Harry to is future "mission" (sadly, it's probably true, in the end of PS/SS, Harry himself tell Ron and Hermione in the infirmary that Dumbledore gave him the invisibility cloak and explained how the Mirror works because he wanted him to have a try to face Riddle....disgusting).

Here are some more articles that I’ve written about the Sorcerer’s Stone:

Why Did Albus Dumbledore Tell Hagrid About The Sorcerer’s Stone And Nicolas Flamel?

Why Didn’t Albus Dumbledore Use A Fake Sorcerer’s Stone?

1 Foolproof Way Of Keeping The Sorcerer’s Stone Safe From Dark Lord Voldemort

1 Way For Nicolas Flamel To Protect The Sorcerer’s Stone Without Having To Entrust It To Albus Dumbledore

Why The Traps Protecting The Sorcerer’s Stone Are Useless?

Pics are screenshots from my HubPages account

#harry potter #harry potter meta #book series #albus dumbledore #book review #jk rowling #sorcerer's stone #philosopher's stone #harry potter and the sorcerer's stone #harry potter and the philosopher's stone #hogwarts

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stelamaris · 6 years

Text

The Sorting Hat - QHPRA

@alluringcliche @jod1ewhittak3r @thepeverellthree @wearywanderer

Let’s get going!

I love how the first years all bunch together like frightened lambs

“I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.” – Well, that depends on the house and the house values, doesn’t it?

Much as I love McGonagall, her speech isn’t exactly designed to reassure nervous children. Neville’s cloak being fastened under his left ear is funny, though.

He’d had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying that he’d somehow managed to turn his teacher’s wig blue – Whoops!

I’d forgotten that the first ghost we see and hear is the Fat Friar. Appropriately, he is speaking of forgiveness and second chances. But even though I’m a Hufflepuff, I agree with Nick that Peeves shouldn’t be given more chances.

The ghosts and the Sorting itself seem to be a big secret here but at the end of DH, Harry and Ginny discuss what happens quite freely. I suppose Jo wanted to keep the suspense going.

I love the Great Hall. One of the best things about the studio tour is that you enter the studio by walking through those huge doors into the Great Hall set. Ahhhh, it’s amazing.

Note that the Great Hall is not lit by studio floodlights but by candles and the starlight from the ceiling which would make it shadowy and mysterious.

“It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside, I read about it in Hogwarts, A History.” – First mention of Hogwarts, A History! DRINK!

I wonder if the Great Hall WAS open to the sky once but then, due to Scottish weather, it had to be closed.

This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. – Would washing it get rid of the magic? :P

I love the Sorting Hat song, mainly because I find rhyming poetry quite difficult to write and admire Jo’s efforts.

It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. – How does a hat bow???

Hi Hannah!

I wonder what Seamus’s other house might have been.

Harry’s self-esteem issues are really obvious here. He’s utterly convinced that he’s not worthy and that he will be sent back, even knowing that he’s performed a lot of wandless magic.

A lot of what the Sorting Hat says about Harry could equally apply to Ron

I think Harry would have picked whichever house Draco wasn’t in. He doesn’t actually choose Gryffindor, he just says “NOT Slytherin”, which isn’t quite the same thing. The Sorting Hat is the one which decides Gryffindor is the place for him. Before anyone protests, I definitely think Harry belongs in Gryffindor, I just think it’s interesting that he didn’t actively choose his house.

I know that Jo’s said the only reason the Sorting Hat suggested Slytherin for Harry was because of the Horcrux in his head, but I don’t get that from this speech. It seems like the hat is really trying to see if Harry is interested in being ‘great’ at any cost, which is what Slytherin is all about. But Harry is so repelled by Draco and what he’s heard about Slytherin, he doesn’t really care about being ‘great’, he just doesn’t want to be anywhere near this guy or people who have anything in common with him.

I can only imagine how satisfying it was for McGonagall to have Harry Sorted into Gryffindor

Percy acts like Ron getting Sorted into Gryffindor required some sort of effort on Ron’s part

The description of the welcome feast must have been wish fulfillment for Jo, who wrote this while living on benefits. I bet the mint humbugs are for Dumbledore.

“I know who you are!” said Ron suddenly. “My brothers told me about you – you’re Nearly Headless Nick!” – If they told you, why didn’t you say anything when the ghosts first appeared?

Nick tipping his head like that at the dinner table is a bit rude but then Seamus was a bit rude for asking! And despite what we learn later, I don’t think Nick’s situation is that unusual, because British history contains more than one story of an inexperienced or unskilled executioner hacking away at a prisoner’s neck… One of the reasons the guillotine was created was to minimise the chance of this happening.

Seamus seems to have a knack for asking awkward questions.

Haha, who’d have thought we’d find out just how the Baron got those blood stains on his clothes?! I can’t tell if Nick does know what happened and he’s being discreet or if he’s just telling Seamus to mind his own business because he doesn’t actually know the truth.

The description of Neville’s childhood is funny the first time you read it but then it stops being funny and ends up being sad.

I read a theory that this brief moment of pain came from Voldemort looking at Snape but I can’t blame Harry for thinking Snape was directly responsible.

Given the size of Hogwarts, ‘the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side’ seems ridiculously vague as far as descriptions go. Did they change it to ‘fourth-floor’ in the American editions? Because in the UK, we go ground floor, then first floor, second floor etc.

Harry laughing at Dumbledore’s words probably further convinced Snape that he was already a reckless troublemaker.

OMG Percy, why would Dumbledore tell the Prefects about something that dangerous? You’re still students, even if you have a bit more responsibility. Honestly.

Apparently the other teachers aren’t as fond of the school song as Dumbledore.

Is Dumbledore this happy because Harry’s finally here in one piece?

Harry’s been awake since 5am and it took the whole afternoon to get to Hogwarts, no wonder he’s dead on his feet.

So we found out about the Baron’s bloody clothes but not why the Baron is the only one who can control Peeves. Unless it’s because he murdered someone?

Percy continues to show an inflated sense of self – why would Peeves listen to Prefects when he’s not a student?

Caput Draconis means “the Dragon’s Head” according to Google. It’s also the name of a figure in geomancy, according to Wikipedia, which means “good fortune for beginnings or new projects”. Thoughts?

Neville is so small he needs help getting in, aww…

I wonder if Peter has a mental list of Ratty Things To Do (e.g. chewing sheets) that he ticks off.

I think Harry’s dream is influenced by the Horcrux, it was near Voldemort for the first time in years and may have woken up because of the close proximity. Harry specifically dreaming of Professor Quirrell’s turban talking to him (when you know what it’s hiding), the turban insisting that he needs to be in Slytherin because it’s his destiny, the turban tightening so that his head is hurting… it adds up.

Next chapter we have our proper introduction to Snape. Yaaaaaay.

#qhpra #alluringcliche #wearywanderer #thepeverellthree #jod1ewhittak3r

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aidanchaser · 5 years

Text

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents

Chapter Ten Halloween

Dear Harry,

Again, congratulations on making the Gryffindor Quidditch team. We’re so proud of you. Please promise to be careful and only use your broom during practice and not to use it to get yourself into trouble. And don’t let it take time away from your school work. And don’t forget to stay well-rested. You know how dangerous it is to fly when you’re tired.

We love you and miss you.

Love,

Mum and Dad

P.S. DO NOT OPEN THIS AT BREAKFAST. I’m sure you can imagine the uproar a first year getting a broom will cause. Please be considerate of your classmates.

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Dear Mum and Dad,

Sorry I haven’t had time to write. Things have been very busy! I’m trying very hard to work on all my classes while doing Quidditch practice. At least Quidditch is something I’m good at. Can’t say the same for Potions.

Are things still going well at home? Mum isn’t really going to get a job is she? That would be kind of weird. Ron’s Mum doesn’t work. But his Dad does, so I guess that’s okay. And both Neville’s parents work. And Susan’s aunt. Would she get a ministry job or a Muggle job? A Muggle job might be kind of fun.

My first Quidditch game is on the 16th November. I hope you can come. And Sirius and Uncle Remus.

I’ll see you soon. The Halloween Feast is coming up, and it’s only a month until our first game. I’m so excited I can’t wait! But also there is too much and I wish it could slow down just a little bit. Does school always feel like this?

With love, Harry

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Dear Harry,

Of course we’ll be at your Quidditch game. We wouldn’t miss it for anything.

And I don’t know if I’ll be getting a job or not. I only glanced through the ads in the Prophet and your father nearly had a fit. I just need something to do at home now that you’re not here is all. It’s a bit dull when I don’t have to chase down your broom or worry about patching up your scrapes. As much as I could do that to your father, he generally takes care of himself.

Uncle Remus says he can make your Quidditch match, and I’m sure it would take a hoard of dementors to keep Sirius away.

And yes, school always feels like that. It’s alright. You’ll get used to it, and if not, you’ll have summer breaks to help out.

With Love, Mum and Dad

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Dear Sirius,

Thanks for the spells! I haven’t tried them yet, but I did open my Nimbus 2000 at breakfast where Malfoy could see. He looked so jealous. It was some worthy revenge.

Also please stop telling Mum and Dad things. Dad thinks I’ve gotten into a fight when I didn’t, I was just out of bed late. The garden snake was months ago. I said I was sorry — even if it was pretty funny. Dad and Uncle Remus even thought so.

I hope you can come to my Quidditch game!

Love, Harry

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Dear Harry,

Sorry about that slip. I only mentioned to your dad you were coming along as an excellent dueler, and he asked me where that came from, and I told him that Malfoy had challenged you and you’d accepted. Not to worry, your mum didn’t hear a word of it. And I did tell your dad you didn’t get into any trouble and there wasn’t a fight. Though I don’t think he believed me.

I’ll go through my old books and school things, if I can find any of it. I think most of my first-year things might’ve been left at the old house. I’ll see if I have anything you’d be able to use and send it your way as soon as I do. Might even be able to find some Zonko’s stuff. The good old stuff, none of the boring newfangled ones.

I’ll definitely be at your Quidditch game. I wouldn’t miss it for the world! If I remember right, the first match is always Gryffindor-Slytherin, eh? I’ll break out all the red and gold I have. You’ll crush ‘em. I know it!

Best of luck and see you soon!

With love, Sirius

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Dear Uncle Remus,

I’m so excited you can come to my Quidditch match! (At least, Mum said you were coming. You are coming, aren’t you?)

We’ve just had the Halloween Feast. I’m sure it would’ve been amazing, but there was a bit of an accident. McGonagall said she’d tell Dumbledore, so I’m sure Mum and Dad know already, but if they don’t, just show them this, okay? (I figured I should tell you because it’s more your area.)

So Ron and I walk into the Great Hall and we’re just about to start eating when Quirrell comes running in and tells Dumbledore that there’s a troll in the dungeon. And then everyone is running around and prefects are trying to get everyone into the dorms. Ron and I were going back—I promise, we were doing what we were told—but we remembered that one of the Gryffindor girls was in the bathroom, and didn’t know about the troll, so we went back to tell her.

Except we ran into the troll on the way. It went into the bathroom and we went in to try to get her out. But she was so scared she couldn’t move. And Ron and I tried making noise to confuse it and that worked for a little bit, but not for long, and then it went after Ron. So I jumped on it and my wand got stuck in its nose. Then Ron used Wingardium Leviosa on its club and then dropped the club on its head and knocked it out.

After McGonagall scolded us, she gave us ten points. (Well, five, after you take out that she took five from Hermione, but it was still points.)

Ron, Hermione and I are all okay. It was a little scary and smelly (so smelly) but we are fine.

Do you know how to get rid of troll smell? Ron says my wand is fine, but I think there is still a bad smell every time I try to practice a spell.

Love, Harry

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Dear Harry,

Of course I will be at your Quidditch game. I’m very excited. Not nearly as excited as Sirius, but very excited.

And your parents did tell me something about the troll. They said they received a letter from PROFESSOR Dumbledore commending your bravery and quick thinking. I’m happy to share your version of events with them. I’m sure they will be sufficiently worried about you.

And I’m sure you heard it from PROFESSOR McGonagall, and I’m sure your parents will write to you again and tell you to be careful, but you’re still going to hear it from me.

BE CAREFUL.

Facing a troll is dangerous even for a skilled wizard. It’s a miracle none of you were hurt. You’re lucky you were able to knock it out. And for that, you and Ron were very smart for doing so. Never forget your rudimentary spells. A more experienced wizard might have tried a Stunning Charm, which would not work on a troll. But you were able to stun it more creatively with spells designed for other things.

Remember, never let your knowledge of spells stifle your creativity. It’s important to think outside the box, especially in Defense Against the Dark Arts. There are often wards and protections against the common spells you would think to use, so keep working at unusual ways to solve problems. There is always more than one answer!

Again, congratulations, (on all of it, from Quidditch to the troll) and I will see you very soon! Only two weeks until your game!

With Love, Uncle Remus

PS: Be very careful about cleaning your wand. Use no magic or potions. If you still can’t get the smell out, we can take it to Ollivander to take care of it so none of the magical properties in the core or wood are compromised.

#harry potter everyone lives au #harry potter #harry potter and the philosophers stone #hp fic #hp everyone lives

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canvaswolfdoll · 7 years

Text

CanvasReads: Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

PS | CoS | PoA | GoF | OoP | HBP | DH

Don’t worry, I’m still reading the Harry Potter books! I didn’t suddenly stop for the second time in my life!

Half Blood Prince also happens to be the last Harry Potter film I watched. I… didn’t really understand what was going on, as I recall it being pretty choppily written (though it’s been many years since I’ve watched the movies[1]).

That has been my interesting trivia and context before we actually get into the review.

For the first time, we open a book outside Harry’s perspective. In fact, as far as I can recall, this is the first time we’re given material that Harry’s not privy to. Even in Goblet of Fire, which opened in the Riddle House[2], was revealed in the next chapter to be a dream vision by Harry tapping into Voldemort’s mind, if a bit loose with camera angles.

Book 6, however, that goes out the window, as instead we see part of the life of the British Prime Minister! As in, the actual Muggle one, not the bizarre Wizard one.

I actually know very little about the mechanics of the British Government, so I have no way to guess which Prime Minister this is supposed to be, or his exact functions within the government besides… being the highest authority, I guess?

Look, rest of the world, we shove the mess that is our government down your throats. You’re welcome to return the favor.

Point is, the chapter establishes that the muggle and wizard governments are so thoroughly divorced the muggle Prime Minister didn’t even know about wizards until the night of his… inauguration? The very night he officially takes office. So, yes, Muggles and Wizards have no political power over one another, and that sounds like it’d be the biggest possible mess.[3] Like… come on guys, you losers share an island, it’d probably work much better if you jawbreakers would at least have monthly meetings.

Anyways, the actual chapter tells how Fudge goes from greeting the Prime Minister on that first night, saying “Don’t worry, you’ll probably never see me again,” to popping in on a yearly basis to give a very rough summary of the escalating chaos from Harry and Voldemort’s shenanigans. It serves both as a ‘previously on Buffy the Vampire Slayer’ and world building!

But Fudge got… impeached? Kicked out of Office?

Fudge isn’t the boss anymore, what with the utter incompetence he displayed during Order of the Phoenix.

So he’s being kept on as the official liaison to the Prime Minister, so new Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour can keep focus on dealing with the return of the Dark Lord.

Also, we get a brief overview of how Voldemort’s been causing damage to Muggles (despite how even Voldemort prefers to leave muggles alone).

Then we go to follow a different character: Draco Malfoy’s mom!

I… okay? I mean, it’s a very important chapter that establishes some details, but Mrs. Malfoy hasn’t really played a role until now.

Actually, considering the nature of previous books, it’s actually a little against the typical narrative for Rowling to tell us about the unbreakable vow and that Draco’s been selected by Voldemort to do something malicious this year, instead of letting that mystery grow as per usual, and the following chapters seem to be written in that usual way.

Then again, maybe it’s just reassurance that Snape and Malfoy, both red herrings in the past, are actually up to something this time.

Also, Wormtail lives with Snape. And literally everyone calls him Wormtail. I feel there’s something to be inferred from everyone using Pettigrew’s schoolboy nickname, shared with three men he betrayed so utterly.

You know what? I really want to hear Pettigrew’s story. What happened there? Was he always a toady, without much of a spine? Except he was in Gryffindor, which implies some characteristics he doesn’t display, and he had the tenacity to become an Animagus with James and Sirius, which isn’t supposed to be easy. He was close enough to know about Lupin’s lycanthropy. All details about Pettigrew indicates a very complex and competent individual, considered trustworthy by the other Marauders and an actual friend, not just a sad gopher they kept about for convenience. Yet the glimpses of the era he’d be at Hogwarts, whether by Lupin’s words, or Snape’s memories, rarely (if ever) mention Pettigrew. And he currently acts like such a weak-spined minion, loyal to the biggest bully.

Who is Peter Pettigrew?

We will not know at this juncture.

Instead, in chapter 3, we finally see Harry Potter himself, asleep against his bedroom window, waiting for Dumbledore to come and take him away.

Dumbledore arrives, takes Vernon’s usual bluster with ease, then forces the Dursleys to sit down and be quiet as he and Harry settle some matters, chiefly Sirius Black’s will. Good news, Sirius left everything to Harry! Bad news, Number 12 Grimmauld Place is compromised and the Order of the Pheonix needs a new Headquarters.

Also, Harry owns Kreacher, the Black family house elf. Harry just tells the ungrateful thing to go work at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore then chastises the Durselys for treating Harry unkindly, and informs them Harry must be allowed to return once more the next summer to finish the last leg of the ill-defined spell allowing the Dursleys protection from Voldemort.

Then the two wizards leave, and presumably the Dursley’s are relieved to finish a wizard encounter without damage to body or home.

Slightly tangent, this book has shown Dumbledore apparating booze pretty frequently. I… don’t know if I’m supposed to read anything into that, but it’s a noticeable pattern.

Dumbledore, meanwhile, has one more errand before taking Harry to the Burrow;[4] time to enlist a new faculty member.

Not a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, of course. Snape finally gets that job, presumably because he was the only Order member willing, and Dumbledore needs to obey the pattern (Death Eater, third party, Order member), and Snape’s history with the Death Eaters may translate into making him an inexplicably good teacher for the post.

But then again, he is Snape.

Slughorn, meanwhile, is a serviceable Potions Master, and a Slytherin of the hob-knobbing sort, gaining privileges as a sideline manipulator.

Slughorn doesn’t really want to come back to Hogwarts, but Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, is far too tempting a morsel to ignore, so Slughorn gives in. Also, Hogwarts is mostly safe.

I mean, the only teacher to die was Quirrel, who was working for Voldemort. Or so Harry explains to Slughorn.

This is omitting the teacher that oblivated himself; the second Death Eater that snuck in, and was instrumental in Voldemort’s resurrection; the power-hungry toad that took over the school, and was taken away by centaurs; having Dementors hanging about for a year; the giant spider in the local forest; all of Hagrid’s other oddities; the casual defiling of space-time; the basilisk that was living in the plumbing; an evil diary; Crouch Sr. also dying on school grounds; Harry’s many Quidditch injuries; the Triwizard Tournament in general; Hagrid’s full-giant half-brother hanging about; and Dumbledore's re-emerging alcoholism.

Hogwarts isn’t a very safe place.

Still, Slughorn agrees, and Dumbledore takes Harry at last to the Burrow. Whereupon he takes Harry into a broomshed and tells Harry he’s going to give the boy private lessons over the school year, and he’s free to tell Ron and Hermione stuff, because just because Dumbledore is a bumbling secret-keeping fool, doesn’t mean Harry should be.

Besides, he’ll need both Hermione’s smarts and Ron’s bullheadedness to cope.

And, by the way, Harry’s the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain now. Why not.

At the Burrow, we learn Hermione’s been staying for the summer, too, and Bill Weasley is engaged to Fleur Delacour, who was also a Triwizard champion. No one but Bill and Ron like having her around, and Molly is trying to turn Bill’s head toward Tonks instead.

Also, with Voldemort now making a spectacle of himself, security’s been heightened. Just… just in general. Wizards are scared. So that’s fancy pants fun.

Fred and George have their joke shop up and running, including a backroom of items designed to fight against dark magic. They seem to be doing well for themselves.

Oh, and Harry catches Draco Malfoy doing something sneaky. It’s all very suspicious, but no one’s got Harry’s back on the matter, even though we, the audience, know something's up.

On the train, Hermione and Ron again must do prefect duties, so Harry goes to sit with Neville and Luna. Luna hopes for the Dumbledore’s Army meetings to continue, because it’s almost like she has friends.[5]

Slughorn, not wanting to waste time, tries to befriend prospective celebrities, which Harry finds a bit off putting.

After getting away from the gathering, Harry sneaks off to eavesdrop on Draco, where the idiot’s bragging to his friends about the evil he’s about to get up to.

However, Draco, being actually perceptive, discovers Harry, beats him up, and intends to leave him on the train to miss Hogwarts.

Because Harry just can’t keep his streak of catching the House Sorting. Always have to have some difficulty.

Tonks finds Harry anyways, and together the two head towards the school.

In short order, the actual faculty changes are addressed, and Harry is able to advance with potions classes, pursuing his dream of being an Auror.

But he also doesn’t have potion supplies, so Slughorn lets him and Ron borrow class supplies as needed, until they can order their own.

Harry ends up with a used book, annotated and written in by some jerk former students.

What monster writes in books? Whoever this ‘Half Blood Prince’ guy is, he’s clearly without morals.[6]

After two books of the subtitle not having a heavy importance to the plot, The Half-Blood Prince brings the relevance slope upwards, as the book brings both good and ill to Harry’s life, and Snape’s actions ultimately have the greatest effect on the plot moving forward.

While we’re on Snape, let’s take time to assess his DADA skills.

Information is inconclusive. We only truly get the first day of the class, where Snape, like every previous teacher, has commented on how behind the shenanigans of the previous teachers have put them. Though, to be honest, only Lockhart and Umbridge have actually caused any set back, and during Umbridge’s tenure, there was the DA to keep a portion of the class moving forward.

Which means the damage Lockhart left in his wake was that detrimental. Literal villains did a better job, you pompous fool.

Anyways, we don’t get much material on how well Snape teaches the subject, putting him about equal Quirrel’s ‘Must’ve been average enough to warrant no comment’.

Which means the DADA teachers are symmetrical. It went unnotable, bad job, great job, best job, worst job, unremarkable.

Huh.

I look forward to see how the final one compares.

So the potions book helps jump Harry forward in the art of potions. Which means if he spent less time glaring at Snape and more time listening and taking notes, he’d probably been pretty strong in the subject.

This allows Harry to win a Luck Potion from Slughorn during the first day of class. Which, of course, will be used against the man later.

Dumbledore also begins his private lessons with Harry, the subject: Tom Riddle!

Junior!

He’s catching Harry up on Voldemort’s backstory so Harry can keep the great work going in case something happens to Dumbledore.

Yet,despite this, Dumbledore keeps vital and reassuring knowledge from Harry!

Like, Dumbledore’s great sin is honestly Pride. The man, whose dark past and brilliance has left him a Hero’s Complex greater than Harry, seems to have a problem trusting anyone with the whole game table he’s operating with. Even as Dumbledore enters this final stage, where he must relinquish the throne of control to Harry and move himself to the expendable camp, Dumbledore still cannot conceive that trusting his subordinates with what he’s up to might help things along.

For all his talk of how important Love is; for his instance that Harry keep Hermione and Ron up to date; even as he derides Tom Riddle for forming no friendships and using his Death Eaters only as tools, Dumbledore is of the same ilk, just happened to be on the other end of the game table.

This is not just about Dumbledore not telling Harry the full story behind Snape, which, after six years of Harry receiving nothing but reasons to mistrust Snape, would’ve been a good thing to pass on before his death; or that he knows Draco is up to something, that Harry’s concerns are warranted and being addressed; or that, possibly, Dumbledore will die either hunting the Horcruxes or by other machinations by the Dark Lord, and Harry must be prepared for what that means.

He doesn’t even tell McGonagall the deal with Snape. Like, I get it, McGonagall isn’t a member of the Order of the Phoenix, but… She’s next in line to head Hogwarts. She’s the one to be left with the fallout. McGonagall needs to have been made aware of what Dumbledore and Snape were planning, and what should be done with Hogwarts.

Dumbledore probably views his actions as a necessary evil, yet lacks the wisdom of literature’s greatest Necessary Evil: Havelock Vetinari.

Because Vetinari knew to give authority and partial control to others, and build a self-maintaining city while keeping himself irreplaceable to his allies and, most importantly, to his enemies.

Ankh-Morpork without Vetinari risks another Snapcase.[7]

Dumbledore did a good job of making himself nonexpendable by the arms of good, so that when the enemy, to whom he is very expendable, gets a lucky shot in, Dumbledore leaves a fractured force in his wake.

With only a lone boy (and his two friends) with a clear goal, and an Order of the Phoenix and a school staff facing the unknowable darkness without context.

Like… don’t keep secrets. If there is no greater lesson to be learned from media, it’s that keeping secrets never works out.

Have a confidant. Have someone to call you on your missteps. Have a back-up!

The descent of Dumbledore from mystical guide to fallible mortal, while a potentially strong arc, is still scarred by the worst trope.

I… just stop serving me this trope, Media. It’s the fastest way to kill my trust in a character and strength of the plot.

If your plot only works because someone is keeping vital information from someone else, with zero repercussions with its revelation, rewrite it. Or make sure the one keeping the secret is both the stupidest cast member and actual scum of the Earth.

I haven’t even seen the fallout from this choice, I just know narratives well enough to know the ramifications could’ve been easily avoided.[9]

Right, we were talking about the infodump of Voldemort’s back story.

It has some worrisome elements? I mean, I prefer redemption stories, or at least some optimism that the bad guy can be saved, which I know isn’t this story, and that’s fair, but… Dumbledore offers no sympathy to Tom Riddle along the way.

Yes, Voldemort was a right jerk from the start, terrorizing the other orphans and being a sociopath but… dude was orphaned, with no knowledge of his mother, only his father’s name to go on, and inexplicable powers with no explanation for the first decade of his life.

It’s easily a very tragic tale about a boy incapable of forming actual connections with anyone, nor having a firm place in the world. Even from the start, Dumbledore is suspicious of the boy.

Yes, I’m forcible dragging out sympathy. Fight me.

Also, there’s Dumbledore’s theory that Tom Riddle is the way he is because he was conceived while under the influence of a love potion, which… really, Rowling? Like…

Actually, no, the implications of that is obvious, I won’t address it.[10]

I mean, I get the Dark Mirror of Harry aspect Rowling was going for, but it does kind of jumbles the message; that great evil and great good can only come from extraordinary circumstances. That a being like Voldemort is the result of inbreeding, abuse of his mother, a loveless conception, and a lonely childhood. I think it might’ve been a tad more interesting if Voldemort actually came from an unremarkable background.

But then you’d still need to clean up the loose ends of Voldemort having a family.

The Horcruxes/Phylacteries are a good element to introduce. A tangible list of challenges to conquer before we can get our final showdown.

And the book does explain why Voldemort didn’t just make one of his horcruxes a grain of sand, guys! The man is literally too melodramatic. His soul jars have to have some emotional connection, and he can’t conceive of anyone capable of matching his intellect and power to destroy the things, so why does it matter. Why do you have to judge Voldy?

There must’ve been a boar somewhere in the Gaunt family line, because Tom Riddle is a thick slice of Ham.

So that’s what Dumbledore tells Harry, but he does need Harry to get an unaltered memory from Slughorn to prove that Voldemort knows about Horcruxes because… due process or something?

Dumbledore has the ring Horcrux during the first meeting, and presumably destroys it, so shouldn’t it be obviously the nature of the beast?

I don’t understand what Dumbledore thinks he’s doing in this book. Albus is a mess.

But Harry has other concerns! Like captaining the Quidditch team! It goes… alright? The graduation of Lee Jordon left the announcer’s box open, allow some fun guest announcers, the best being Luna.

But Quidditch is still the least interesting and low stakes part of the narrative, and as nice as it is that Harry has Hobbies, I don’t care.

Gryffindor wins at the end, as always.

Let’s see, other significant plot lines…

Well, Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater now. Harry figures it quick, because he eavesdropped on the right conversations. Harry tries to figure out what Malfoy’s scheme is, and while some progress does get made from time to time, Harry never gets in a position to solve the mystery, because Malfoy does ultimately need to succeed, but it does mean a lot of pages spent on Harry trying to get into the room of requirement and failing.

Also, I love how there’s a version of the room that’s just a massive warehouse to hide junk. Even Trelawney knows the room well enough to dump her sherry bottles in there.

There’s suddenly a lot of alcohol use. Is it because Harry could legally drink beer now? What is the deal.

I’d actually enjoy a breakdown of what characters know what Hogwarts secrets. That’d be neat.

Other ongoing plots…

Ooh! Fenrir Greyback!

We’ve got another werewolf! There’s another werewolf!

He’s a bad guy. And cannibalistic. And a total monster.

Yaaay?

We don’t get much information about Greyback. Is he also a wizard? If so, did he forsake magic to instead savage people? Why does he think teaming up with blood-purist Tom Riddle will further his cause? Because I do like the subtle thread of both he and Lupin trying to find equality for werewolves, but approaching from massively different angles.

Was Greyback a muggle? If so, what was it like to suddenly get pulled into the wizard world, but as a very low caste?

When do I get that story? Does… does anyone else want that Harry Potter-verse story?

Maybe Fantastic Beasts 2?

What other plotlines? There’s got to be something else.

Fine.

I’ve ran out of delaying tactics.

Harry and Ginny…

Look, it’s not well written. I know it, you know it, and yet… we’re told to just accept it? That Harry and Ginny are truly compatible and…

They never talk! Like… okay, you want to write a good romantic subplot for the main character, wherein it’s not the main focus of the narrative? Here’s the Canvas Method:

First, make both characters independently compelling. Since Harry’s the main character, he’s good. Enough material, we’ve followed him for 5 or 6 books now, so he is compelling. Ginny, meanwhile, isn’t. The last time we saw Ginny be really important was Chamber of Secrets. Since then, she’s just been part of crowd scenes, to fill a seat, either as a Weasley or as a DA member. She’s just there, at best a checklist of traits, if that.

I need to be interested in both involved parties for me to become invested in the relationship. Remember, 50% is a failing grade.

So if the character is defined only by their relationships to others, then you’ve written a Romantic MacGuffin. A Horcrux of Love. A nonentity character.[11]

Second, the two characters must talk to each other about something besides how much they like one another, and leading up to the relationship. And I mean there needs to be dialogue written out. No ‘They played quidditch at the Burrow’ and ‘They had talked’, Rowling. If you want to convince me this is the match, actually write Harry and Ginny, sitting on the Hogwarts Express, casually discussing Quidditch, their school experiences, whatever. Place Ginny, constantly, with the golden trio. Mix her into the dynamic.

If the audience doesn’t see it, it doesn’t happen. Build the romance the same as any other part of the story.

Even Harry and Cho had more build up, and that was written to fail, even though that also was mostly ‘Harry felt this way,’ we saw a lot more of Harry stumbling about with his crush, and small conflicts.

Two point five, the two characters should also be interesting as a unit.[12]

We haven’t seen much of Harry and Ginny on page for me to analyze this further.

Three, the relationship needs to have a narrative purpose and make compelling stories from the union, before leading up to it and during the relationship.

So, yes, Rowling, we lose Ginny making out with other boys in the background, but literally no one cares about Dean Thomas.

Rowling doesn’t even care about Dean Thomas.

I don’t even know if Dean Thomas has any defining characteristics besides ‘named Dean Thomas’ and ‘Isn’t Seamus’!

Cho had Cedric Diggory, who was a Triwizard Champion, and died, so him being in the love triangle worked.

This is why people ship Harry and Hermione, by the way. Not just because the whole ‘Lead Boy and Lead Girl’ angle, but because Hermione is literally the only age appropriate female Harry ever interacts with for extended periods on various topics.

And you know what? Hermione and Ron is done well. They’ve been orbiting the relationship and alternating jealousy since Goblet of Fire, and more or less both parties are well aware, but are too stubborn to bow first. And it’s only gently implied at the end of this book that Hermione and Ron are now together. I’m not even sure if Dumbledore’s funeral is the canon starting point.

But that doesn’t matter! We’ve seen both grow as unique characters, their relationship build and move in arcs. Rowling put the work in, and it worked.

Well, okay, I’m not a fan of Ron and Hermione, but that’s because I’m not a shipper in general, and I am very pessimistic about high school romances, and I’d prefer the main three to be friends over romances, but that’s personal taste.

So I’m throwing Ginny into the ‘dull love interests’ bucket under my desk.[13]

And, because I probably should address it: Lupin and Tonks.

Ew. Like… no! Lupin’s 13 years her senior! Harry’s obliviousness and Dumbledore keeping him away from meetings means this has less build up than Harry and Ginny. And… massive age differences really creeps me out. A lot. No. No to Lupin and Tonks. Stop it. Ugh. Or, at least, make Tonks older. It would’ve been so easy! Just add 10 more years. It would change so little.

Why do you do this to me, Rowling. I like Lupin, why’d such a creepy relationship for him?

Well, how does the rest of the story go?

Well, I like how the Locket Horcrux was kept in a Zelda dungeon. Have to swim to the entrance, spill blood to get past the entryway, navigate around a giant pond to find a boat to take you to the island, and presumably keep your hand at the level of your eyes.[14]

Then there’s a torturous potion to drink to get to the locket at the bottom, which Dumbledore just drinks down… If Dumbledore split duties on that with Harry, maybe they’d only be half sad apiece, and things would’ve gone better.

Stop martyring yourself, Dumbledore! It’s dumb.

Oh, and redeads. Have to fight off the glomps of redeads.

With fire!

Seriously, why is this one horcrux given this level of protection, and meanwhile the Journal was handed off to Lucius Malfoy, and more just sort of litter the Hogwarts School ground.

Did Voldemort put in the work on this one dungeon, step back, exhausted, and think ‘Screw it, I’m not doing this five more times. Malfoy! It’s Milkshake time!’

“Why do I have to pay, Dark Lord?”

‘Shut up, Malfoy.’

“I just don’t feel like you appreciate me.”

‘Look, just… listen, I hereby entrust you with my diary. Don’t do anything stupid with it, like secret into the hands of an eleven-year old in some sort of petty revenge scheme.’

“That’s oddly specific.”

‘Shut up, Malfoy.’

I’m a little sad Voldemort screen time was limited to flashbacks. Sure, dude was being suave to all kinds of people, but he was rather subdued this time. Didn’t even do any extravagant actions to curse the DADA post. Just kind of flipped off Dumbledore on his way out the door.

After drinking an unknown potion he found lying in a cave, Dumbledore gets dragged home by Harry, where they see the Dark Mark hovering over Hogwarts.

Oops.

So they grab broomsticks, flyover, and then Dumbledore petrifies Harry so the boy can’t do anything dumb like save lives while Dumbledore Dumbles on with Draco, spelling out what the boy was doing during the year. Which is nice exposition.

Other Death Eaters storm up to peer pressure Draco into straight murderin’ a dude, eventually Snape wakes up, comes up in an irritated grog, Avada Kedavra’s Dumbledore off the tower, then heads home.

Harry makes chase, ignoring the tiny scuffle between Death Eaters and Order of the Pheonix, chases Snape and Draco across the lawn, Snape sets Hagrid’s house on fire, gets sick of Harry yelling at him, so he pauses his escape for a moment to be like ‘Listen, you idiot, I’m the Half-Blood Prince, stop using my jinxes on me. Also, stop calling me a coward. Your dad did that, and that loser needed back-up when he bullied me.’

Which actually a well cloaked compliment.

Snape essentially tells Harry he’s braver than his Dad was.

Snape is such a sweetie.

Who murdered Dumbledore.

Exit, Snape! Only DADA Teacher to leave on his own terms. Good for him.

Harry helps Hagrid put out the fire, stumbles back to the school, helps spread the news of Dumbledore’s death, then goes to McGonagall's sweet new office to decide the fate of Hogwarts.

They’re probably going to try and keep it open. Also, Dumbledore’s getting entombed at Hogwarts. So let’s have a funeral.

They have a Funeral, Harry does the lame ‘Sorry, Ginny, but my life is too dangerous, being with you is too dangerous. We need to break up. I’m Spiderman.”

I mean, sure, Ginny’s a member of a blood-traitor house, both her parents are currently members of the Order of the Phoenix, she is aligned with the DA, was involved with one of Voldemort’s horcruxes getting stabbed, but yes, her relationship with Harry alone would make her a target for Death Eaters.

You idiot. Stop emulating Dumbledore. Look where that got him!

Harry walks off to do the edgy lone wolf hero thing, but Hermione and Ron catch up and are like ‘Nope, we’re coming with you. Let’s kill a Lich.’

Which, to his credit, Harry accept with very little fight.

They leave with two final loose ends to sever before the final leg:

Have to visit the Dursley’s one last time, because Harry did promise.

He shouldn’t give a chocolate frog about them at this point, but Harry did promise Dumbledore.

Also, Bill and Fleur are getting married.

Bill’s a near werewolf, too, by the by. Lucky dude.

Fawkes the Phoenix also flies away, probably to find a place far away from this madness.[15]

The book was… good. It’s not really a stand out story, as it’s mostly set up for the end, closing some things while preparing the final segments. There was almost no Wizard World building, Luna had an even smaller role, and all the romance subplots were… not great. The Half-Blood Prince mystery, while filled with interesting details, also wasn’t really that big of a deal. It’s a breather episode, and feels like a de-escalation in the series. Even Dumbledore’s death (admittedly, marred by being the biggest spoiler) wasn’t really that epic.

I may go so far as to say it’s my least favorite, but that has more to do with having Chamber of Secrets level of excitement in the middle of the plot intense end of the story.

One more book to go. Until then, feel free to interact with me, check out my other projects, and consider backing me on Patreon. Thank you.

Kataal kataal.

[1] Excepting when I watched Sorcerer's Stone with Rifftrax a couple months ago. [2] Riddle House sounds like a puzzle-heavy bonus dungeon, where the player can collect the party’s joke weapons. [3] And we’re doing the same thing with Magical Congress. The magic world is dumb, the longer you look at it. [4] Which, at this point, should have, and deserves to have, Harry’s love shield protecting it. Maybe it does but… eh? [5] Ha ha! I completely empathize! [6] Yes, none of Snape’s crimes are greater than this. [7] Readers who have not read the Discworld books must be so lost.[8] [8] Please read the Discworld books. [9] I… can I even conceive of a way to justify this trope? I… like to experiment with making weird and bad tropes work, but… how. [10] Though I am really concerned that Love Potions are openly sellable at the Weasley Twins’ shop. That… is not a good thing to not have any government oversight on. [11] I’m looking at you, Asami! Too busy being defined by her ex-boyfriend, her father, and Korra to actually be interesting! [12] Or ‘This is why I ship Zuko and Ty Lee’! Zuko and Mai is too much of the same. Ty Lee adds contrast. [13] With Asami, Mai, Asuna and... let’s say Mikiru. And Lagoon Boy? I don’t actually maintain a list. Also Tom. [14] Well, technically you’re pretending to hold a pistol, ready to fire, or I guess a wand in this case… I’m referencing Phantom of the Opera. [15] Maybe Princess Celestia will adopt him.

#CanvasReads #Harry Potter #CanvasReviews #JK Rowling #hogwarts

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