As the Sorting Ceremony began, Harry's eyes swept across the Great Hall, taking in the familiar faces he'd only known from books in another life. His gaze landed on Colin Creevey, a small, mousy-haired boy who was practically vibrating with excitement. Colin's old-fashioned camera hung around his neck, and he was snapping pictures left and right, his eyes wide with wonder at the enchanted ceiling and floating candles.
"First years, I swear they get smaller every year," Roger whispered, nudging Harry.
Harry nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. He wondered if Colin would become Charles's fan in this reality. Given how different Charles was from the Harry of the books, and considering the less-than-stellar reputation Charles had earned last year, Harry doubted it. Still, Colin's enthusiasm was infectious, reminding Harry of his own wonder when he first entered Hogwarts.
His attention was then drawn to a girl with long, straggly blonde hair and a dreamy expression. Luna Lovegood stood out even among the nervous first years, her silvery eyes taking in the Great Hall with a serene curiosity that seemed at odds with her peers' anxiety. She appeared to be humming softly to herself, completely unfazed by the grandeur around her.
"I'll keep an eye on her," Harry thought to himself, remembering the bullying Luna had endured in the Ravenclaw House of the original timeline. He made a silent vow to ensure she had happier school days this time around. Perhaps he could introduce her to some of his friends early on, creating a support network for the eccentric but brilliant witch.
As the line of first years shuffled forward with each name being called out loud, a flash of familiar red hair caught Harry's eye. Ginny Weasley, looking small and nervous, was fidgeting with the hem of her robes. Her freckled face was pale with anticipation as she waited for her turn to be sorted.
Without hesitation, Harry reached out with his Legilimency, gently probing her mind. He knew it was an invasion of privacy, but the stakes were too high. He had to know if she had Tom Riddle's diary.
To his surprise and growing concern, he found no trace of the Horcrux in Ginny's mind. There had been no confrontation with Lucius Malfoy, no diary slipped into her cauldron. This deviation from the expected timeline sent a chill down Harry's spine, his mind racing with the implications.
"Everything alright, Harry?" Reggy asked, noticing his frown. "You look worried."
Harry schooled his features into a neutral expression. "Just thinking about the year ahead," he said smoothly. "Lots to consider with Lockhart as our new professor."
As the Sorting continued, Harry's mind raced. The absence of the diary with Ginny was not good news. His foreknowledge, his greatest advantage, was becoming less reliable. The Horcrux could be anywhere – maybe still with Lucius Malfoy, maybe in the hands of another unsuspecting student, or worse, it was sold by Malfoy and was now who knows where.
The only thing that consoled Harry was the fact that with Dobby acting to restrict Charles from coming to Hogwarts, there was a high chance the Diary was inside Hogwarts and not outside. Only this way would Dobby act to save Charles from the coming danger. But this brought its own set of worries – if the diary was indeed at Hogwarts, who had it? And how will this new person act?
"I need to find it," Harry thought grimly. "Before things progress in ways I can't predict."
Halfway through the Sorting, a commotion at the staff table caught Harry's attention. Professor Snape and Lily Potter both stood abruptly, exchanging a significant look before hurrying out of the Great Hall. Harry didn't need his reasoning skills to guess what that meant – Charles and Ron had arrived, likely in spectacular and rule-breaking fashion.
"What do you reckon that's about?" Roger whispered, his eyes following the departing professors.
"Ten Galleons says it's about Harry's younger brother," Reggy replied with a smirk. "Bet he's made some unusual entrance. He was not in the Hogwarts Express, after all."
Another Ravenclaw student, a prefect named Penelope Clearwater, leaned in, her voice low. "No need to guess. Look at this paper. You'll know what it's about."
Reggy took the Evening Prophet which had the front page headline of "FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES." He then read out for everyone, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement: "Two Muggles in London, convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office tower ... at noon in Norfolk, Mrs. Hetty Bayliss, while hanging out her washing ... Mr. Angus Fleet, of Peebles, reported to police."
Roger's eyes widened in shock. "It seems your brother is not one to live a quiet life, Harry. This is outrageous. They came to Hogwarts in a flying car. How did they even manage to find such a modified car?"
Harry sighed internally, feeling a mix of exasperation and concern. Charles, it seemed, had not gained much wisdom from being raised in the wizarding world. He had indeed chosen to fly the Weasleys' enchanted car to Hogwarts, risking exposure of the magical world when he could have simply waited for help. It was a reckless decision that spoke volumes about Charles and Ron's impulsiveness and lack of foresight.
As the Sorting concluded and the feast began, conversation at the Ravenclaw table and the others turned to speculation about the fate of Charles and Ron. The Great Hall buzzed with excited whispers and wild theories, the flying car incident overshadowing even the Sorting of new students.
Harry, however, found his thoughts drifting to another problem. His mind was preoccupied with the missing diary and the potential dangers it posed. As he mechanically filled his plate with roast chicken and potatoes, he couldn't shake the feeling that this year would bring challenges he wasn't fully prepared for.
When Dumbledore finally rose to make his start-of-term announcements, the Great Hall fell silent. The headmaster's eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles as he introduced Gilderoy Lockhart with a flourish. The fraudulent author stood with a dazzling smile, his lavender robes sparkling in the candlelight, eliciting cheers and sighs from his admirers.
Then came the introduction of Lily Potter as the new Muggle Studies professor. The announcement was met with enthusiastic applause, particularly from the Muggle-born students who saw Lily as a symbol of what they could achieve in the wizarding world. Harry felt a pang of sadness, knowing that most of these students were unaware that Lily's success was largely due to her marriage into the Potter family. The reality for most Muggleborns in wizarding Britain was far less bright.
As the students filed out of the Great Hall, heading for their dormitories, the corridors buzzed with rumors about Charles and Ron's flying car adventure. Wild speculations about their expulsion spread like wildfire, each retelling of the story more exaggerated than the last.
"They won't be expelled," Harry said quietly to his friends as they climbed the stairs to Ravenclaw Tower. "Dumbledore won't allow it. They'll lose some points, maybe get detention, but that's all."
Back in the dormitory, as his classmates settled in and chatted excitedly about the year ahead, Harry lay in his four-poster bed, his mind whirling with plans and contingencies. The diary Horcrux was out there somewhere, and he needed to find it to keep the events of this year under control. The thought of the Chamber of Secrets being opened, of students being petrified – or worse – weighed heavily on him.
"I can't rely on my knowledge of the future too much from now," Harry thought, staring at the blue and bronze hangings of his bed. "I need to be proactive, gather information, and stay alert. This year might be more dangerous than I anticipated."
With these weighty thoughts, Harry closed his eyes, willing sleep to come. The sounds of his dormmates' soft breathing and the gentle hooting of owls outside the window gradually lulled him towards slumber. As he drifted off, his last conscious thought was a determination to protect his fellow students, no matter what unexpected turns this year might take. Whatever challenges lay ahead, Harry Potter was ready to face them head-on.
The Great Hall buzzed with excitement as students filed in for breakfast the next morning. The events of the previous night – the Sorting Ceremony and the dramatic arrival of Charles Potter and Ron Weasley – were still the hot topics of conversation. As Harry made his way to the Ravenclaw table, he caught snippets of animated discussions about his brother's fate.
"Did you hear? They're not expelled!"
"Just detention, can you believe it?"
"And no points lost for Gryffindor either!"
Harry suppressed a sigh as he sat down next to his friends. It seemed that, once again, Charles had managed to escape serious consequences for his actions. The Gryffindor table was particularly jubilant, celebrating their narrow escape from starting the year with negative points.
After breakfast, the Ravenclaws made their way to the Charms classroom. Professor Flitwick, standing atop his usual pile of books, beamed at the class as they entered.
"Welcome back, everyone!" he squeaked excitedly. "Today, we'll be starting with the Summoning Charm, Accio. Now, who can tell me..."
As Flitwick launched into his lecture, Harry found his attention drifting. He'd mastered this charm long ago, and his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of the missing diary and the potential dangers lurking in the castle.
When it came time to practice, Harry effortlessly summoned his cushion on the first try, earning a delighted clap from Flitwick. The rest of the class struggled, with cushions flying erratically or barely twitching in response to their incantations.
As the bell rang signaling the end of class, Flitwick called out, "Mr. Potter, a word please?"
Harry approached the professor's desk, curious. "Yes, Professor?"
Flitwick's eyes twinkled with excitement. "I had the good fortune of watching you duel this summer, Mr. Potter. I must say, I was immensely proud of your strength and skill. Truly impressive for a wizard your age!"
Harry felt a warmth spread through his chest at the praise. "Thank you, Professor. That means a lot coming from you."
Taking a deep breath, Harry decided to seize the opportunity. "Professor, if you don't mind, I'd love to hear your honest critique of my dueling. You're a champion duelist yourself, after all."
Flitwick looked surprised but pleased. "Well, Mr. Potter, since you ask... You have great skill and magical strength, there's no doubt about that. However, you often lack efficiency in ending duels. From what I observed, you have an impressive repertoire of spells, but you don't always use them to their full potential."
Harry listened intently as Flitwick continued, "For instance, instead of using simple shield-breaking spells to counter your opponent's defenses, you often try to overpower them. While this can be effective, it's not always the best strategy. Dueling isn't just about raw power – it's about outsmarting your opponent, using the right spell at the right moment."
The professor went on to provide more specific examples, pointing out moments where Harry could have ended duels faster or conserved his energy better. Harry absorbed every word, recognizing the truth in Flitwick's observations.
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said sincerely when Flitwick finished. "This feedback is incredibly valuable."
Flitwick beamed. "I'm glad to help, Mr. Potter. If you ever have any questions about dueling, my door is always open."
In a moment of sudden inspiration – or perhaps recklessness – Harry blurted out, "Professor, would you consider taking me on as an apprentice?"
Flitwick's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh my! Well, I'd be delighted, but as a Hogwarts professor, I can't officially take on apprentices for dueling, as it's not a Hogwarts subject."
Harry, thinking quickly, suggested, "What if it were a Charms apprenticeship that... happened to include some dueling instruction?"
Flitwick stroked his mustache thoughtfully. "An interesting proposition, Mr. Potter. However, I must warn you, my conditions for accepting apprentices are quite rigorous. It's been many years since I've taken one on."
"I understand, Professor," Harry said eagerly. "I'd be willing to take any test you deem necessary. In fact, I've already studied Charms up to the NEWT level. I just lack practical experience in applying some of the more advanced skills."
Flitwick's eyebrows shot up in astonishment. "NEWT level, you say? Well, let's put that to the test, shall we?"
What followed was an impromptu examination that left Flitwick increasingly amazed. Harry answered complex theoretical questions with ease, demonstrating a depth of knowledge far beyond his years. When they moved to practical demonstrations, Harry performed lower-level charms silently, showcasing NEWT-level proficiency.
But it was when Harry conjured his Patronus – a majestic lion that prowled around the classroom – that Flitwick nearly toppled off his stack of books in shock.
"Merlin's beard!" the tiny professor exclaimed. "Mr. Potter, this is... this is extraordinary! A corporeal Patronus at your age... I've never seen anything like it!"
Catching his breath, Flitwick composed himself. "Mr. Potter, I would be more than happy – honored, in fact – to take you on as my apprentice. This is a bargain for me, I assure you! I'll complete the necessary paperwork this week. Since you're an emancipated adult, the process should be straightforward. We can make it official by next week."
Harry felt a surge of excitement and relief. Not only had he secured a master to teach him advanced Charms and dueling, but he'd also gained a valuable ally and a legitimate reason to be out of the dorms at odd hours – something that could prove useful in his hunt for the diary.
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, barely containing his enthusiasm. "I look forward to learning from you."
As Harry left the Charms classroom, his mind was buzzing with possibilities. He was free for the second part of the day since it was History of Magic, a class he had long since stopped attending.
This apprenticeship could be the key to preparing himself for the challenges ahead. As he climbed the spiral staircase to Ravenclaw Tower, Harry felt a renewed sense of purpose. Whatever this year might bring, he would be ready to face it.
Spotting an empty classroom nearby, Harry slipped inside and pulled out his two-way mirror. With a quick glance to ensure he was alone, he called out, "Sirius Black."
The mirror's surface shimmered, and soon Sirius's grinning face appeared. "Harry! To what do I owe the pleasure of this mid-day call?"
Harry's excitement bubbled over as he recounted his conversation with Flitwick and the unexpected offer of an apprenticeship. Sirius listened intently, his smile growing wider with each detail.
"That's brilliant, pup!" Sirius exclaimed when Harry finished. "Flitwick's not just a good professor, he's one of the best. You'll learn loads from him, especially when it comes to dueling. This could be a game-changer for you."
They chatted for a few more minutes, with Sirius offering advice and Harry soaking it in. As they said their goodbyes, Harry felt a renewed sense of excitement for the year ahead.
Pocketing the mirror, Harry decided to head to the school library. As he navigated the corridors, a familiar voice caught his attention. Rounding a corner, he came upon an unexpected and somewhat disconcerting sight.
Gilderoy Lockhart, resplendent in robes of turquoise, was engaged in an animated conversation with Charles. Harry instinctively stepped back, concealing himself behind a suit of armor to observe unnoticed.
"My dear boy," Lockhart was saying, his teeth gleaming as he smiled, "your entrance was nothing short of spectacular! Next time, do consult with me first. I could give you some marvelous tips to make the show even better!"
Charles shifted uncomfortably. "I don't think that's a good idea, Professor. The Gryffindors weren't happy that I nearly lost us more points so soon after... well, you know."
Lockhart waved a hand dismissively. "Ah, but that's because you're approaching this all wrong, my boy. You're a celebrity! You need to learn how to act like one."
What followed was a surreal lecture on celebrity behavior. Lockhart expounded on how to handle criticism ("With a smile and a wink, dear boy!"), maintain a loyal fan base ("Always leave them wanting more!"), and cultivate a public image ("Mystery and intrigue, Charles, that's the key!").
Charles seemed to be hanging on every word, his initial discomfort giving way to rapt attention. Harry felt a chill run down his spine at the sight.
Unable to stomach any more of the conversation, Harry silently slipped away, his mind reeling from what he'd witnessed. As Harry finally made his way to the library, his mind was still reeling from the conversation he'd overheard between Charles and Lockhart. Pushing those thoughts aside, he focused on the tasks at hand.
Settling into a quiet corner, Harry started looking for ways of finding a way to detect if a student was possessed by a dark object. He scoured the shelves for books on magical detection and dark artifacts, but most of the texts he found were frustratingly vague or dealt with much simpler enchantments. It looked like he should go to the Room of Requirements or the Black Castle Library for the required information.
As the afternoon light began to fade, Harry packed up his notes and books. He hadn't found what he was looking for, but he had a clearer idea of his next steps. With a sigh, he stood up, stretching his stiff muscles from hours of research. As he left the library, Harry's mind was already formulating plans for his next move in the search for the diary Horcrux.
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