Chapter 6
Susan and Hannah split from the group as they entered, giving the rest a wave as they moved to the Hufflepuff table. Harry and Neville escorted Luna the Ravenclaw table, and she gave them each a hug, and when it was Harry's turn he whispered in her ear, "Remember, you're not alone. If people give you trouble, remember that, I have your back."
She gave him a strong smile, and kept it on as she adopted an absent expression while she sat. With that, Harry and Neville sat down at the Gryffindor table, where they were immediately approached by an irate Angelina Johnson.
"Potter, where were you on the train, no one could find you in your usual carriages and we need to talk about the team this year!"
"Hey Johnson, I'll save you the trouble, I'm quitting the team this year."
Ron had just entered when Harry made that statement, and the whole hall seemed to go quiet for a moment, before shouts burst along the red and gold table and murmurs broke out along all of the rest.
"What?"
"No!"
"You can't!"
"But the cup!"
Angelina looked at him with an expression that was equal parts confusion and murder, which Harry thought was a very interesting expression. Even Neville was looking at him as if he had grown a second head.
Harry had made the decision during the summer, he knew his grades were just average, and while that probably didn't mean a lot for him with the whole boy-who-lived deal, he wanted to be worth something someday. He wanted the extra time to study, and he really wanted to not wake up at five in the morning and chase golf balls through the air.
Angelina slowly walked back and sat down again next to the other chasers, while Ron took a seat across from Harry, Hermione taking his other side. Ron looked pensive for a moment, then broke out in a big smile, "Nice joke, mate. That was a good one, quitting the quidditch team. You're a riot, you are."
The murmurs across the hall had yet to break as Harry looked at Ron and confirmed his stance, "Nope, I'm done Ron. I've taken as many injuries playing the game as I have from all of the rest of the adventures I've gotten up to here combined. I have really high hopes about living long enough to graduate."
"That's a very sensible move, Harry," Hermione intoned from his right as Ron continued to gape at him. He suppressed the desire to roll his eyes, and waved down the table at his red headed brothers. The Twins waved back, though with confused expressions, which really only made Harry smile. He owed the Twins an explanation, he wasn't so sure about anyone else though. He'd find them tonight in the common room.
It was then that McGonagall led the first years in. They seemed like a fairly standard lot, though they certainly outnumbered his own year. Harry figured there was probably a small population boom following his theoretical defeat of Voldyshorts, given the evidence in front of him. It figured, he thought as he watched a smaller, thoroughly soaked version of Colin Creevey excitedly wave to the first one who sat down the table from Harry.
The sorting hat began its song and soon enough the first years were sorted. Hagrid had sidled in around the halfway mark, throwing Harry a great wink. Dumbledore gave an unusually sane opening speech (Tuck in!) and the food appeared.
Gryffindor house ghost, know fashionably as Nearly Headless Nick, drifted up to Harry's little group and perched on the bench next to Hermione as Ron began his yearly attempt to fill his mouth with a whole roast chicken all at once. Harry found himself, not for the first time, pondering the virtues of vegetarianism because of the excess his nominal friend presented on the other side of the table.
Nick had engaged Hermione in a discussion that Harry paid no attention to, and Harry turned to Neville who appeared to be debating the comparative virtues of mashed and scalloped potatoes.
"Hey Neville, can we talk later in the common room? I have something kinda private I want to ask you about."
Neville, having made the decision to make no decision and put a bit of both on his plate turned to his friend nervously, "Okay Harry... It's... It's not bad is it?"
"I don't think so. I just want to talk."
"Okay then," Neville turned his attention back to the potato issue as a cry of "House Elves?!" came from Hermione next to them.
Harry had a really strong feeling he wouldn't like wherever that conversation was going, but he had been having another emotional day (It seemed to be happening to him more and more lately, he was wishing really hard for it to not be a new trend) and he just didn't have it in him to bother with something else.
Eventually the dinner foods (which Hermione was eyeing with anger) started slowly disappearing and being replaced by deserts. Harry served himself some delightful lemon treacle tart, and as his fork was about to pierce the tart, an extremely loud BANG issued across the hall from the entrance hall.
Everyone jumped (Harry merely ate his tart, growing up with the Dursleys taught him not to jump for anything less than an incoming fist) and turned towards the hall, where silhouetted against the lightning and rain they saw outside and reflected on the roof of the hall, was a figure that looked human by only the barest of margins.
Dumbledore, who had been moving from his seat to the lectern at the head of the hall when the door crashed open, called for attention, "I would like to take this opportunity to introduce to all of you your new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Alastor Moody."
Murmurs filled the hall again as the figure from the door seemed to walk forward, every other step sounding out with a resounding wooden THUNK. As the man got closer to the great hall he was slowly illuminated, his features serving to inspire nearly as much dread as his appearance in the doorway just a moment before had.
His false leg was the first thing Harry noticed. It looked like the base of tree, Harry felt sure he could see where roots had once connected to it. It had electric blue runes apparently carved into it, and the runes seemed to pulse and move around the leg, slowly as he moved the stump and quickly for as long as the leg touched the ground. The next feature Harry's eyes were drawn to was Moody's clearly false left eye. It was the same electric blue as the runes carved into the leg, and it seemed to move wildly around at a dizzying speed.
Moody's face was a poster child for the possibilities of using dark magic as a method of cosmetic enhancement. He had a massive chunk missing from his nose, which also seemed to have been broken a number of times and reset by someone with only a cursory knowledge of what the human face should look like. He had a deep scar that crossed from the middle of his forehead to his right cheek, crossing over his good eye.
Nearly every inch of exposed skin on the man seemed to have been burned, cut, or sprayed with a corrosive substance, and Harry could understand every inch of it. The same book that influenced him the night of the World Cup had spoken highly of one Alastor 'Mad-eye' Moody. He was one of the greatest, if not the greatest, dark wizard catcher alive. That was a hell of a statement too, as dark wizard catchers tended to not live long unless they were very, very good.
Moody stumped his way up to the staff table, and took a seat at the end of the table next to Hagrid and opposite Snape. As he pressed into his seat he gave a gruesome smile, and a jaunty wave which seemed to reveal only more terrifyingly mistreated skin.
His appearance was either well timed, or put many off of their appetites as the food disappeared shortly after his appearance. With all the food gone and even Ron sated by the meal, Dumbledore once more mounted the lectern.
"Welcome to another grand year at Hogwarts. We are glad to see you all here again, safe and sound in these hallowed halls. I have the usual announcements to begin, The forbidden forest, as many of you will recall, is entirely forbidden. Mr. Filch has deemed several more items unsuitable for use on school grounds and particularly in the halls. For a complete list of all undesirable objects, please see his office. Magic practice is to be confined to classrooms and staff supervised activities only, magic use in the hallways is discouraged and may result in penalties."
Harry had tuned out somewhere in the neighborhood of the word 'usual', and was currently wondering how difficult it would be that night to tear his brothers from their normal beginning of term festivities. His attention was recaptured in its entirety by the aged headmaster's next sentence, however.
"It is my most sad duty to also inform you all of the cancellation of the normal inter-house quidditch tournament this year."
Roars sounded furiously from every table in the hall, save the one occupied by the staff. Ron looked near fainting and the Twins appeared to have summoned beater's bats from somewhere and were waving them in the air belligerently. Dumbledore raised his wand and delivered a cannon blast from it to re-establish a bit of order.
"The tournament will be suspended in favor of an older tradition, that of the Tri-Wizard Tournament," gasps sounded form around the hall at this news (along with many whispers of 'the triwizard what?'), "emissaries from the esteemed schools of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving here at Hogwarts in a few short weeks and from our collected student body three champions will be called forward, one to represent each school. The competition will test the true mettle of the champions, and will feature three events taking place over the rest of the year, the winner will receive 1,000 galleons, and eternal glory. Due to the extreme personal danger to each of the champions, there will be an age limit placed on entry to the tournament. No champion may be below the age of majority, seventeen years, by the time entry is opened, the day before the ancient wizarding holiday of Samhain," Harry could feel the Twin's disappointment at that, they were only a month or so off, "The champions will be picked by an entirely impartial judge, so there can be no question of the validity of the selection."
Dumbledore took a moment to pause here, and looked around the hall, his eyes twinkling at full force, "I believe I have now given you enough to consider. I will release you to your prefects to lead you to your houses. Good night!"
Harry thought Dumbledore had the right of it, he had some things he had wanted to steal a few moments of his friend's time for, but he figured with this unexpected news he may as well take his chance. He stood and tapped Neville on the shoulder, inclining his head to the Twins. Neville stood and followed him to where Fred and George were loudly declaiming to anyone who would listen that they were entering regardless of an age restriction.
Harry managed to tap both of them on the shoulder and quietly ask for a minute of each of their times before they hit the common room. They each nodded their assent, and the four guys headed off.
Harry, between his own excellent sense of direction and the Marauder's Map, thought he had a pretty good handle on how to navigate Hogwarts, but with his new connection to the Lady Hogwarts, his sense of the school rose to new heights. He led the three guys following him on a merry path that brought them to the portrait of the Fat Lady a full five minutes before the next person. Even the Twins who had two years more experience in the castle than Harry and Neville seemed to have a hard time keeping track of their route.
As they got there Fred spoke the password for the entrance to Gryffindor tower (got it off a prefect downstairs, he said) and they retired to a set of chairs in an alcove. Harry turned to the Twins first.
"Guys, I just wanted to talk to you first. I guess it doesn't matter a heck of a lot now, but I am quitting the quidditch team," the Twins shared a dubious look, but allowed Harry to continue, "To be honest, I really only joined in the first place because I thought if I declined McGonagall would just expel me. I'm not a huge fan of the game, I just like flying. I played seeker because I can fly well, but also because I was almost not even a part of the team. I just flew about and grabbed a shiny thing. I decided over the summer that I'd quit and spend more time on my studies. My marks are very middle of the road, and if I want to live a decent life past graduation, studying is about all I've got."
Fred started, "I... Well I guess we understand. We can't hold it against you. We know how mad about practice Ollie was, and we know Angelina would be feeling the pressure this year."
George picked up the thread of their thought, "We can't hold a grudge over it, I mean we like you, but more than that, we understand spending more of your time on your classes. Fred and I talked it over for ourselves last year-"
"— and if we didn't already have a plan for ourselves," Fred continued, "We would have considered quitting too."
"We just wish you had told us earlier," they finished together.
"I'm sorry guys. You know about the World Cup, it kinda slipped my mind," Harry said.
Fred grinned and George grimaced, they both nodded and Fred said, "We meant what we said that day. We have your back, Harry."
Harry flashed a genuine smile, "Thank you both."
The twins nodded again, then stood and departed for (Harry assumed) the location of Lee Jordan, wherever that was.
Neville who had been sitting there for the whole conversation, looked over at Harry and said, "You know me Harry, I'm not a fanatic. I was just surprised, I figured you liked it, I mean you're quite good at it, I guess we all just assumed."
"Yeah, don't worry about it, Neville. I just realized this summer that if I want something good, I can only rely on myself to get it. My ability to use magic is a route to happiness in the future, so my studies are important."
Neville nodded at that, and Harry changed topics, "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about though, Neville, I just wanted to say that... well I guess I wanted to ask after your parents."
Neville immediately stiffened and looked at Harry very strangely. Whatever he had expected Harry to ask about, this was clearly not it. Harry had no idea how to interpret the reaction, so he charged ahead, "I just wanted to ask because I found out this summer that your mum is my godmother. My mum was apparently your godmother as well. I know you have never talked about them, but I found out what happened, and I was wondering if I could get your permission to maybe visit them someday. Our parents were really good friends before mine died, and I think if things had been better we would have been raised as brothers. You and Sirius Black are really my closest family members. It's part of why I said I wanted to get to know you and Susan better this year. All of our parents were really good friends and we all probably would have been raised together."
Neville looked like he couldn't decide on a reaction after hearing what Harry had said. He looked at his hands, and then slowly drew his wand. Harry took his turn as stiffening slightly when Neville did it. Neville finger his wand as he slowly responded, "It's... It's really hard, you know? Mum and Dad are in the long term care ward at St. Mungos. They have a nice room just down the hall from Lockhart. I visit them every summer and as much as I can otherwise, but even after all the years it's been, they still don't react to me, or to anyone else for that matter. Sometimes... sometimes I think my mum might recognize me. I can see it in her eyes, you know? There is a flicker there, like she might still be in there, but buried under..." Neville paused and to Harry it seemed like he just couldn't bring himself to say it.
Harry looked down at the wand in Neville's hands, several things he had noticed since first year and learned recently lined up in his mind, "That's your father's wand, isn't it?"
Neville nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving the wood.
"May I?" Harry asked in a whisper, his hand extended towards the wand.
Neville placed it in Harry's palm like he was moving a holy object. As soon as Harry touched it, he reached down inside himself to his center, and extended a tendril of magic out to the wand, feeling the distinct magical vibration it gave out, and its magical signature.
Harry explained to Neville how during his final week at the Weasley's he talked Molly into letting Bill and the Twins escort him to Diagon Alley, and while he was there for his school stuff, he visited Ollivander's shop. He had talked to the ancient wand crafter for hours about magical foci. His problem had been that using a wand was not helpful to him (he left out exactly why for later), and he had asked after alternate foci. Ollivander had told to him more about the adage that the wand chooses its wizard, telling Harry that it all had to do with the way magic flowed through a focus, no matter what the focus was. Ollivander told Harry of the staff masters of the Norwegian fjords, who had never moved into wands, and of Japanese schools of magic that focused their abilities through specific repetitive hand motions, among other cultures. (He also discussed the Arcanum Harry had read, expounding on the methods used by the French monks, how did that creepy old man know these things?) The one thing that remained constant with foci, he said, was that the signature of the focus had to be nearly identical to the signature of the user, the closer the vibrations were to harmony, the better the fit. That conversation had given Harry a number of excellent ideas on how to better his own spell casting, and had started Harry on the path to creating of his own focus. But Harry explained to Neville how he could use that knowledge here and now to help his friend.
Harry, having felt the signature of the wand, laid a hand on Neville and extended another tendril of magic.
"Bloody Hell, Neville!," Harry said with a start, "Never let another person ever tell you that you are a squib!"
Neville looked alarmed at Harry's outburst and asked quickly, "Why?"
"Nev, you have an incredibly strong signature, you are a powerful wizard. You've been having trouble because your signature is almost completely opposed to the signature of the wand you've been using!" Neville looked really concerned at that, and more than a bit sad, so Harry immediately clarified, "Nev, it doesn't mean that you are the opposite of your dad or anything like that, your signature says nothing about you in the slightest. It only has to do with how you individually touch magic. Maybe your dad was better with charms, while you clearly are the best with plants in our whole year. But this explains why you've always had trouble! The fact that you've been able to make it through classes at all with this wand shows how strong you are, you are a bloody powerhouse, Nev!"
Harry smiled widely at his friend, who look unbelieving and confused at the declaration.
"Let me try to explain it differently, let's say that there are two kinds of people, folks who can fly, and folks who can swim, okay?," Neville nodded, "People who can fly use feathers for their magic, people who can swim use scales from fish for magic. Feathers are nearly useless underwater, they are just out of their element, they get all clumpy and just can't do anything, and on the opposite side, scales are useless in the air, they dry out and lose all of their magical properties. Are you with me?"
Neville thought the image Harry was using was strange, but he got it so far.
"Neville, your entire time here at Hogwarts, you have been swimming around, trying to use a feather for your magic, and making it work."
At that, Neville sat up and nodded. "Okay Harry, but Gran would never let me get a new wand, and I don't want to get rid of my Dad's. It's... well, you understand."
"I do. I really do. I have nothing from my parents, I know exactly how much it would mean, but I guarantee you that your mum and dad would both have wanted you to do your best, and not hold yourself back by using a wand that isn't suited to you. You don't have to throw your dad's wand away, keep it, let it remind you always of the one of the people who brought you into the world."
Neville looked hard at the wand, Harry handed it back and Neville's stare never wavered. He turned it over in his hands, and rotated it slowly along its axis as if he were memorizing every detail of it.
"Okay, Harry. Will you help me get one?"
"Of course. Getting to Diagon Alley will be tricky, but if we talk to the Twins and arrange a suitable distraction, I'm certain we could use the fireplace in the Three Broomsticks to get there."
Harry had been planning on going anyway, he really needed to pick Ollivander's brain again for a way to make a suitable focus for himself. It wasn't that his wand didn't work, it just hampered his wandless magic which he was much more comfortable with. If he could find something to support his wandless style, he could cast much more easily as foci generally made casting take less energy and made it more, well, focused. Foci increase focus, who knew?
Harry decide to bring the conversation back to its original topic, "If you want, as long as we're leaving school grounds, we could take an hour and kip over to St. Mungos, and visit your parents."
Neville looked Harry in the eye at that and stated simply, "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."
Harry and Neville had spent a long time in the corner, and with their conversation done decided to just head up to bed. They'd get their schedules the next morning and life would start over at Hogwarts. They had a month, roughly, to plan their excursion to Diagon Alley and they'd meet the challenge when it came.