Chapter 10: Plight in Flight
"Alright! Now that you've all been comfortable with hovering, how about we try going around in a circle?" Professor Hooch, the flight class instructor, guided them patiently, keeping an eye on those who looked more unconfident than the rest.
Sitting calmly on his broom, Ymir idly controlled where it went with one hand as he enjoyed the breeze, eyes squinted in relaxation.
"So, what did Professor Quirrell want with you anyways?" Sidling beside him, Anthony regarded him with a curious gaze.
Ymir blinked as he thought back to the strange conversation that occured after Defense Against the Dark Arts with the professor. "He offered to give me tutoring with Runology."
Upon hearing the unexpectedly very normal answer, Anthony's face visibly fell in disappointment. "Oh..."
Ymir raised an eyebrow. "Were you expecting something different?"
"I don't know. I kind of wanted something, you know..." Anthony wiggled his brows. "Juicier."
Ymir furrowed his brows. "For your gossips?"
"Yeah..." Came the slightly guilty answer.
"In what way can a teacher asking a student to stay behind after class be gossip-worthy?" With a frown, Ymir asked.
"I mean... in my standards, you're a really good looking bloke, so..." Anthony trailed off meaningfully.
Immediately making the connection, Ymir's face twisted. "Disgusting. I dislike garlic."
"SUSAN!!!"
Suddenly there was a commotion happening not far behind them.
Turning to take a look, Ymir and Anthony were faced with the sight of a Hufflepuff girl dangling precariously on her broom.
With only her hands saving her from a dangerous drop, the girl clung for dear life while her broom still attempted to buck her off.
"Please- PLEASE!! Professor!!!" The girl cried out in fear, lips trembling so much that her words became garbled and unintelligible.
"Susan! Susan, hang on!" Hovering beside her, her friend attempted to help, but was afraid that she might make it worse.
Below, Professor Hooch was blowing her whistle wildly, wand out in preparation to cast the lightening spell in case she fell. "Stay calm, miss Bones! You're fine! You're safe! We're gonna get you down soon, okay?"
Though, the broom was moving too much for the professor to cast the spell smoothly.
Unfortunately, it just happened that at this moment, a strong wind blew, and the broom suddenly flew up and down wildly, and, in that bout, the girl's grip on it slipped.
"SUSAN!!!"
Several students screamed, and just when they thought they might witness the first accident to happen this school year, suddenly, a flash of silver and blue flew past, and then, nothing.
The accident didn't come.
What happened?
"Whoa! Nice catch, Schreiber!" Hovering by on his broom, Anthony cheered in amazement.
And that's when they realized that someone had actually caught the girl.
Heart pounding wildly in her chest, the ground seemed so far below her feet. In a daze, Susan Bones, who had barely registered what just happened, looked up towards her savior. His silver hair and grey eyes, gazing at her in calm concern.
"Are you alright?" He asked, pale skin and light pink lips, the soft light of the sun making it seem as though he were covered in holy armor.
Oh. She thought. She might have fallen in love.
"Gently, now, lad." Below, Professor Hooch guided him to land his broom. "Just set her down on the grass gently. Someone! Go and call Madam Pomfrey here!"
"I'll go, Professor!" One of the girl's friends immediately ran off towards the castle.
"Well done there, boy." After Ymir set the still dazed girl on the grass, the professor came up to him and said.
"Fifty points to Ravenclaw!" She patted his shoulder proudly. "You're going to be a great Quidditch player one day. I just know it!"
Actually... Ymir didn't have much interest in Quidditch.
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September 5, 1991
02-Gaia
Observation Entry #35
There are 8,098 islands in Gaia.
It took me several days, but I finally managed to count them all, with the help of little blue flags to mark each one.
As of now, there are 89 country/continent-sized islands, 385 City-sized islands, and the rest were... small.
But, even though the number of landmass might seem large, 6/7 of Gaia is still actually covered in water. In comparison to Earth which was 3/4 water.
Still, the landmass in Gaia is actually already roughly equal to that on Earth, which was enough for now.
Finally, there will be no more kidnapping of meteors.
With that done, I can now move on to the next part, which is...
Figuring out just why everything that I left on Terra mutated drastically, and if that also applied to Gaia.
So, with that goal in mind, the first experiment I did was to place several pieces of paper on different locations in Gaia.
The reason I chose paper was because all of the things that I transferred to Terra from Earth had been living beings, like animals and plants. And paper, while made from plant fiber, had already been processed and wasn't considered a living being anymore.
I wanted to test if it would still mutate despite that.
And, it turns out, it did. After just several rotations, the paper quickly crumbled and turned into gigantic trees that reached towards the sky.
The paper mutated.
If the situation wasn't so headache-inducing, I'd actually want to laugh.
So what am I supposed to do about this?
If even paper will mutate, how will I be able to transfer people here?
It would take too long for me to be able to locate the source of the mutation in this vast universe, and I do not want to have to postpone the development of Gaia until then.
I'll just have to completely redo my portkey plan.
Maybe, when I get the chance, I'll try to see if the mutation has any effect on ghosts.
Entry End
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Professor Quirrell was actually a good teacher.
If students could get over his excessive stuttering and garlic perfume.
Though, Ymir didn't expect that he'd be getting dark magic tutoring on his first year at Hogwarts, what with Britain very obviously banning anything related to dark magic and all.
Granted, the lessons were veiled under the guise of Runology, and if he were any other 11 year old student, he might not have noticed at all. But, he had a bookshelf filled with all sorts of Dark Arts at home so...
"If t-this sym-bol is wri-ritten pa-parallel to t-this one, the ef-fect it w-would prod-duce w-would hy-hypnotize t-those who e-entered it's ra-nge, allow-wing you t-to t-take hold of t-their mind f-for a ssshort w-while."
Blankly, Ymir eyed the rune the professor showed to him on the parchment.
"..." Isn't this just the rune version of the Imperius curse?
"N-now, w-why d-don't you t-try d-drawing it y-your-self?" Professor Quirrell pushed the parchment containing the Imperius rune closer to Ymir who looked at it apprehensively.
"Understood, Professor." Ymir nodded, and grabbed his quill, reviewing the arrangements of the symbols on the parchment and starting on a separate parchment.
Though, soon, he realized that drawing out runes on parchment was very different from just sketching them out on his journal and required much more delicate control than he thought. Delicate control which was being hindered by his gloves.
Given no choice, he had to remove it lest he destroy the rune. He'd just have to be careful not to touch Professor Quirrell.
But, as they say, anything that can go wrong, will eventually go wrong.
When his quill nearly drew over where it shouldn't, Professor Quirrell quickly grabbed his hand to stop him.
And then it began.
[-wondered... meeting you here, Potter.]
A dim cavern, and a large mirror.
[-trying to kill you... Snape... save you-]
Flickering green flames reflected upon glass.
[-Stone... Where is it... Master-]
Hasty, eager, impatient emotions.
[There is no good or evil, only power, and those too weak to seek it.]
Sluggish body, the smell of rot and garlic.
[Harry Potter... Stone in your pocket-]
A hissing voice from the back of his head.
[SEIZE HIM!-]
Shrill and murderous.
[Kill him-]
Burning body, ashes.
[HARRY POTTER!]
"Y-you s-see some-th-thing else d-don't you? Tell me."
When the haze gradually left from his eyes, Ymir was suddenly confronted with Professor Quirrell's face right in front of him, staring straight into his eyes with red iris.
Ymir blinked slowly, feeling a strange intrusion into his mind which quickly went away.
Did the professor just attempt to use legilimency on him?
Well, it's not like he'd be getting anything from his mind anyways. There's just too much of everything crammed inside there that it would take eons for anyone to sift through it to get exactly what they were looking for.
At this point, he didn't even need to protect his mind. His mind itself is its own defense mechanism.
Furrowing his brows, Professor Quirrell suddenly stumbled back, placing a hand on his forehead as though he'd just gotten a migraine.
"I-it ssseemss that o-our l-lesson will have to e-end here today." The professor muttered hastily, as though he couldn't wait to drive the student away.
"I see." Ymir nodded and calmly wore his glove back. "Then, I'll see you tomorrow, professor."
Packing his things into his bag, he went to leave the office, but, upon arriving at the door, he paused.
"By the way, Professor." Ymir turned around and looked straight into Professor Quirrell's still red eyes. "You can stop stuttering. I won't tell anyone."
❄️❄️❄️
Somehow, by dinner time, Ymir once again found himself sitting on the Slytherin table, sandwiched between Blaise and Pansy while Draco sat sullenly on the opposite side.
Ymir looked around him. Why weren't the other Slytherins saying anything about it?
Oh, wait. He's with a Malfoy.
Ymir shrugged and then regarded the boy who just kept poking at his food without eating. "So why is Draco sulking this time?"
"Oh, he made himself look bad in front of Potter during flight class today." Pansy answered naturally, enjoying her chicken pie. Life had been much more enjoyable since her house elf came.
"Explain, please?" Ymir asked, not knowing the context. Beside him, Blaise cringed.
"Well, it's simple, really. Longbottom, that Griffindor clutz, managed to fall from his broom and broke his wrist." Pansy smiled towards the sulking Malfoy meaningfully. "Draco here, just happened to laugh at the wrong moment."
To this, Draco immediately rushed to explain himself. "It wasn't even Longbottom I was laughing at!"
Ymir raised an eyebrow. Draco might be his friend, but with the boy's character, if someone fell right in front of him, he would very likely laugh at their pain. "And what were you laughing at exactly?"
Draco, knowing that Ymir was skeptical about him, angrily pointed towards Blaise who'd been trying to lessen his sense of presence. "I was laughing at Blaise who tripped and nearly fell on his face when Longbottom almost landed on top of him!"
To this, Blaise choked on his food.
Suddenly, Pansy butted in. "Actually, that's not the end of it."
Instantly, Draco tried to shut her up but, Ymir, now intrigued, motioned for her to continue.
"Ron Weasley, who somehow became Potter's best friend now, confronted Draco for laughing." Pansy struggled to keep the smile from her face as she relayed the story. "Now, Draco, prideful as he is, couldn't stand that and did something stupid."
Beside him, Blaise snorted but quickly shut up when Draco glared at him.
"Instead of clarifying why he laughed, he went on to insult Longbottom and Weasley, to which Potter reacted badly." The more Ymir heard, the more his eye twitched. "By the end of it, they were battling it out on brooms and childishly chasing a shiny ball. Which, Professor McGonagall saw."
"I see." Ymir trailed off, eyes looking at Draco, judgemental. "Draco, I think you need to talk to your father about managing your impulse control."
Draco deflated, head lowered sullenly. "I know..."
After that, they continued eating in relative silence.
Until, Pansy suddenly spoke. "But, you still want to be friends with Potter, don't you, Draco?"
"Yes..." Draco mumbled through a bite of pudding.
"A bit too late now, don't you think?" Blaise snorted. "Potter already has a negative impression of him."
As if Draco couldn't be even more depressed. If he stayed in that state for long enough, mushrooms might just grow on him.
Ymir sighed helplessly. "We'll just have to remedy it, then."
"How?" Pansy shot up. "If he suddenly goes up to Potter all friendly after just appearing like an arrogant jerk to him, it might have an opposite effect."
"I know, so, Draco-" Ymir nodded and fixed his sullen friend with a serious stare. "For next few years, I need you to live by these words for your every interaction with Harry Potter."
Seemingly infected by his seriousness, Draco sat straight on his seat.
"Only you can insult Potter." Ymir lowered his voice. "No one else can."
"Only I can insult Potter?" Draco muttered in a daze.
Ymir nodded. "Yes."
Blaise tilted his head, intrigued. "And if anyone else does?"
Instantly, Draco pulled out his wand and declared. "I'll hex them."
"No." Ymir shook his head, eyes sharp. "You destroy them where Potter can see."
"..." The other three were silent.
"... Isn't that a bit... too much?" Blaise smiled nervously.
"That might just work, actually." Pansy gazed at Ymir thoughtfully. "Though, Ymir, dear? Just where did you learn to do this?"
Ymir blinked. "I read a lot."
Pansy sighed to herself. "Not the right books, though, I see."
❄️❄️❄️
Suddenly bursting into their bedroom, Anthony headed straight for his peacefully reading roommate, eyes twinkling with the latest gossip. "Hey, Schreiber! Have you heard that Longbottom actually fell from his broom and-"
"I have heard." Ymir calmly flipped to the next page of his book.
"Oh..." Anthony pouted, going silent for a moment, but not for long. "Well, do you reckon the broom he used being the same one Bones used?"
Ymir gave him a quick glance and sighed. "Very likely."
Late that night, Ymir secretly asked Glas to make an anonymous donation to Hogwarts containing 30 new brooms from Comet.
❄️❄️❄️
"Professor Quirrell, if Hogwarts has a class dedicated to teaching students how to defend themselves against the dark arts, why don't they actually teach the students about the dark arts they have to defend themselves against?" During their private Runology lessons, Ymir couldn't help but ask. "I mean, it just seems impractical. Like in a situation where someone threatens me with Fiendfyre, am I just supposed to use a shielding spell?"
"I'm afraid I have no answer to that. You'd have to ask Dumbledore himself." Professor Quirrell said with a strange glint to his eye, finally having given up his stuttering now that they were alone. "But, of course, anything that doesn't conform to what is supposedly good and just will never be allowed to be spoken within the halls of Hogwarts as long as he is headmaster, so I'm sure your inquiry wouldn't get anywhere."
"Oh. Well, that's problematic." Ymir muttered thoughtfully. "Magic shouldn't have to be separated into the categories of good or bad. Magic is magic. It is those who wield it that decide what it does."
"Exactly!" Professor Quirrell hissed. "Only a fool would think that it is magic that influences the actions of it's wielder, and Dumbledore, senile as he is, should have no say over the freedom of those gifted with magic."
With each word, the professor's voice grew increasingly hissier. Somewhat like a mix between a human and a snake speaking.
"The use of Magic is a privilege given to those it deems worthy enough. Through blood, it is passed down stronger with each generation!" The red glow in Professor Quirrell's eyes grew brighter with each hissed word. "Who is he to declare which magic is evil?!"
Ymir looked down at his parchment, somehow, the voice talking just now sounded familiar.
"Professor Quirrell, I heard you went to the Black Forest this summer." Suddenly changing the topic, Ymir spoke without looking up from the parchment. "By any chance, have you seen a talking snake there?"
Quirrell's eyes flashed sharply for a moment. "A talking snake? I can't say I have."
"I see." The corners of Ymir's lips curved upwards slightly. "It was an interesting snake. Always trying to make people its servant."
He spoke as though he were just muttering thoughtfully to himself, quill still moving unstopped on the parchment.
"It refused to tell me it's name though, so I called it Mortemius." Reaching the critical junction of the rune, the quill on his hand slowed down. "Since it always hissed the killing curse whenever it got mad. And it was always mad."
Suddenly, a hand took hold of Ymir's wrist, stopping him from nearly making a mistake. Looking up towards the professor, he saw that the red had fully taken over his iris, and the professor hissed. "He, not it!"
"Oh?" Gazing straight towards the professor's red eyes, Ymir smiled meaningfully. "But, I thought you never met that snake, professor."
"So, how do you know his gender?"
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
LordOfRot
LordOfRot Btw, if you haven't realized yet, this fic is going to have a combination of the Harry Potter book and Harry Potter movies when it comes to the personalities of some characters.
For example, I like Harry Potter's sass in the book, so I'm taking that, I like Draco Malfoy from the movies better, so I'm taking that, so on and so forth.
It might get confusing to some, but eh, it makes writing the fic more interesting for me.
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