Herbalogy Lesson
I'm releasing a new story 'Avatar The Last Airbender: Spirit' if you're interested in a non-standardised story about the world of Avatar The Last Airbender, you might like this.
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Same day. Hogwarts.
The door to our rooms was in a small branch off the main corridor to the Ravenclaw faculty dormitory. It was a heavy oak door, held together by thick steel strips that had turned green with age, with an equally green with age bronze handle in the shape of a curved dragon's neck with its head open in a silent scream.
- Well... Let's see what the headmaster has in store for us," Fleur smiled playfully at me.
- And how many bloody tracking charms are lurking in the corners of our rooms? - I grumbled grimly, pulling out a box from my pocket and enlarging it, the contents of which had cost me a whole lot of gold and hours of work by Sirius, Ciaran, and old Master Martin Jones, who was smiling affectionately at me, who'd charged me most of the money I'd spent.
- First things first... - I turned round from the door.
Sure enough, there was already a portrait in this corridor. Another old man in an ancient camisole was comfortably seated at a desk and didn't even hide the fact that he was watching us closely.
The first artefact I took out looked like a trivial needle. And the only thing that gave me the determination to do what I was about to do was the fact that the portrait was only a pseudo-life, a magically created likeness of a human being. It was only in the old aristocratic families that the powers and art of the magicians were sufficient for a portrait to truly become a kind of window to the world for a wizard who had gone to his death. Only such portraits really carried not just the imprint of a person, but in a sense were this person, albeit a copy, without a soul, but they too could think and feel. Even in old families, however, such carefully crafted portraits were rare-I'd only seen one in Sirius's house, though somewhere in the vaults of the house, my godfather said, was a portrait of his grandfather Cygnus.
Moving closer to the portrait, whose inhabitant smiled cheekily at me, confident that I wouldn't dare do anything, I jabbed the needle sharply into the corner of the canvas, there was no need to strike the artefact directly at the person. The painting seemed to fade for a moment, devoid of colour, and then turned into a normal image. The artefact used by artists to destroy unsuccessful works had come in handy; now the portrait could not be revived even by a mage of Dumbledore's level. I had plenty of needles on me.
The small knife-shaped artefact I pulled out of the box sat comfortably in my hand. I scrutinised the door, picking my place, and finally, with all my might, thrust the dagger into the gap between the boards, where there was barely enough room for the narrow blade. The dagger hung there for a while without the slightest sign of life, and then it smoldered with multi-coloured iridescence, and suddenly disappeared without a trace.
- Well, that's a start. Every possible enchantment that had been built into that door was now gone.
Fleur pecked me on the cheek as I ushered her into the room.
A living room. Not too big, but not a small room, perfect for three or five of us to sit together if necessary. A small fireplace against one of the walls, a window with narrow shutters and a view of the Forbidden Forest. And two more doors, apparently to the bedroom and bathroom.
- It wasn't bad, though I would have liked it better. - I sat Fleur in a chair by the fireplace, lit the fire with my wand, and returned to the table where I'd put the set of artefacts I'd brought with me.
The artefacts, made by Sirius with my active help, were a legacy of the old times, when magic even in wizards' everyday life was used much more actively and was much more sophisticated. And now all of them, without exception, were equated with black magic, though not all of them were actually such.
- Flamio," I whispered quietly, and two thick candles painted with Runes flickered into flame.
Two more artefacts that needed only a constant and very large boost of power. A wizard of Granger's or Weasley's level would have been drained dry, drained of power for weeks on end, but all I felt was an almost unbearable weight on my shoulders.
The candles, unlike their usual counterparts, gave off a thick, heavy smoke that spread throughout the rooms of our temporary home, smoke that was harmless to living people and their magic, but literally corroded the magical bonds of spells that had been woven later, rather than laid down in the creation of a room or object.
I felt a chill in my hands and ears - with each passing moment the artefacts were pulling more and more power out of me, but the pale blue flashes of the spells being destroyed were becoming more frequent.
- That's it. - I breathed out a sigh of relief as a worried Fleur approached me, about to share her magic.
There wasn't even a trace of wax or soot in the place of the candles on the table, but the artefacts had done their job - the diagnostic spells I cast from the book on the table didn't give a single trace of surviving charms. Of course, we risked that the bed in the bedroom, for example, would fall apart, but the bed could be repaired, but all the tracking charms I'd brought into the room were dead.
- That's enough for starters," I smiled tiredly at my beloved, gathering the remaining artefacts into a box. - Let's see the bedroom.
- The bedroom... - Fleur stretched out, smiling in a way that made my heart beat faster and stronger. - And what are we going to do in the bedroom, my husband and lord?
The girl bent in a bizarrely deferential bow, mimicking an oriental woman.
- We will... - I looked at my favourite girl as if I was going to eat her. - We will be investigating the security of our assigned bedroom.
- What do you mean? - Fleur walked into the room, which was furnished with antique furniture, with a double canopy bed in the corner.
- I mean," I created another diagnostic spell with a wave of my wand, "we'll be checking to see if the old headmaster slipped us a defective bed.
With a laugh, Fleur fell onto the soft featherbed, pulling me with her.
* * *
- Master Harry," the housekeeper with the Potter family emblem on his chest and the small golden amulet I'd poured my full strength into last week, came into the room as Fleur, already dressed, was arranging her many knick-knacks and books on the shelves. - 'All your things have been delivered to your chambers, the Hogwarts housekeepers have offered to bring your food directly to your rooms.
- Thank you, Flippe," I smiled at the House elf. - We'll go to the Great Hall, there's no need to carry food separately. And again, remember that you obey only me and Fleur in this castle. Even if the Headmaster orders you around - the amulet will protect you from mind-reading or subjugation spells other than Imperius. You'll have a second or two to escape. For now, your job is to guard the room from your fellow creatures. When you get tired, call for a replacement from the mansion. No Hogwarts elf is to appear in these rooms. If such an elf appears and tries to do anything, kill him.
I placed a short sabre on the table, made as if for a child's hand. The blade was covered with Runes, intertwined in a very unpleasant spell of Blecks.
- Good, master, mistress. - Flippe bowed and disappeared.
- 'I hope the amulet is enough,' Fleur looked at me with slight concern.
- It should hold up, if only for the amount of effort I put into it.... - I shook my head. - Dumbledore wouldn't put all his resources into a spell if he was going to enchant a harmless houseboy. There's no defence against Avada anyway.
- Let's hope the elves aren't taken seriously. - Fleur rested her head on my shoulder, snuggling tighter.
- Let's go to breakfast, love. - Fleur danced towards the door, and once again I admired my wife. In the bright light of the magic torches, she looked like an angel in the flesh, with glistening eyes and a lush mop of slightly dishevelled hair.
- Fleur. - A thought occurred to me, and it was worth thinking about. - It seems to me that it would be more useful for them to see us as members of the oldest and noblest house.... Though if it were up to me, I'd admire your dishevelled hair and burning eyes forever.
- Oh, you!" Fleur slapped me on the back and headed back to the wardrobes where the elves had already unloaded her many dresses.
Dropping her pale blue loose dress, the girl was left in just her underwear, making me tense. With a mischievous look at me, she burrowed headfirst into the stacks of clothes, picking out the most appropriate pieces. It was hard to tear my gaze away from the smooth movement of her buttocks, barely covered by her tight panties, and I turned to the wardrobe.
- Flippe," I decided to save time. - Get me a weekend camisole and accessories.
Fleur laughed-she was used to my dislike of dressing in the proper clothes for an aristocrat. Out of the corner of my eye I watched the girl, who at that moment bent like a cat, pulling on a stocking.
- Fleur, you and I are going to be late for breakfast, if we get there at all! - I half-seriously growled.
The girl smiled provocatively, running up to me and kissing me, and then, deftly dodging my hands, she slipped away to the wardrobe, finally choosing a suitable dress.
Ten minutes later, in which I had pulled on a rather loose-fitting pair of trousers with stiffly embroidered seams and a camisole that was also heavily embroidered, Fleur was ready to go. Clad in airy white silk, her figure was eye-catching. The shallow neckline, revealing the top of her delicate breasts, left very little room for imagination.
- Dumbledore would choke on his own beard, and Snape would eat a fork instead of a steak. - I shook my head, gazing at my wife in admiration.
After receiving a kiss and an affectionate smile in return, I led my wife to the exit.
- Tonight you and I will have an unforgettable adventure, my love," I gently pulled the fragile girl against me, enjoying the warmth.
- What kind of adventure? - Fleur raised her eyebrows ironically, pretending not to understand the hint.
- You'll see. - I shook my head uncertainly. But Fleur wasn't thinking about that - my idea was completely unexpected.
* * *
When I reached the door to the great hall, I willed myself to straighten my back and squared my shoulders - I needed to impress the Slytherins who needed to be impressed. Fleur was beside me, too, shrouding herself in the faint aura of Weil magic.
- Let the show begin," I smiled, causing the girl to laugh, and we were the last to enter the Great Hall, a laughing blonde girl in a snow-white dress and a young man dressed in an embroidered black camisole, the ring of the head of the family glittering defiantly on his hand.
Snape glared at me with hatred as soon as we appeared in the hall doorway. Dozens of stares, ranging from envious to outright hateful, immediately crossed at us. Unformed curses cast on mere emotion caused a slight glow of aura, deeming them potentially dangerous.
Passing by the Slytherin table, I heard some students hiss - for them, a Potter descendant with a family ring on his finger was a sign of the end of the era of absolute supremacy of the Slytherin aristocracy at Hogwarts.
- Astoria, Daphne, my respects," I bowed briefly to the daughters of Mark Greengrass sitting not far from us, and to the surprise of the other Slytherins, the girls nodded at me, though a year ago they wouldn't have honoured me with a glance.
- Hello, Potter," Malfoy said to my surprise, though it was obvious that he was still struggling to say it.
- Hello to you, too, Malfoy," I bowed as a head of the family would greet the heir to a friendly family, and Fleur gave the blond a polite smile.
- Neville, we're here for you again," Neville clapped me on the shoulder as we took our seats, and he hovered for a split second, staring at Fleur between us before Luna elbowed him in the side. The simple ring that adorned Neville's finger, the one he'd told me about once, did a good job of protecting it from Weil's attraction, too.
- Fleur, you're as usual," he grinned wickedly, putting his arm around Luna's shoulders.
- Hey, I'll be jealous," I teased my friend.
- Harry, your schedule," Anthony Goldstein, the head of the faculty, appeared in front of me as if out of nowhere. - Don't forget to stop by Flitwick's after class, he asked that you come with your wife.
- Thank you, Anthony," I unfolded my schedule. - Potions would be a lot more fun without Snape.
- Yeah," the young man grinned, trying manfully not to eat Fleur's eyes too much. - Mrs Potter, to the best of my knowledge, are there amulets that block Weil spells? I apologise if my question is indelicate.
- Yes, there are such amulets," Fleur said, to my surprise, not angry. - They're usually worn by politicians who have frequent contact with the Veil community in France.
- Thank you," Goldstein, making a visible effort, turned around and walked along the faculty table, handing out schedules to the students.
- Brave man," Neville shook his head. - I might not have risked asking a question so directly.
- It's strange that he doesn't know about such amulets," Luna said seriously. - He's a pureblood.
- Perhaps my wife's magnetic appeal has clouded his judgement," I kissed the soft cheek. There was a flash of hatred at a nearby Gryffindor table.
- You know, Harry," Neville followed my gaze, "if I were you, I'd keep an eye out around Hogwarts, and I wouldn't let Fleur walk the corridors alone.
- I'm a big girl," my wife replied with restraint.
- But no one is safe from a crowd of embittered teenagers, unless Harry can draw on pure energy," Neville disagreed.
- Maybe... - Fleur answered without any more confidence.
- Neville's right, unfortunately. - I stared at the Gryffindor table, where three of my former friends were staring at me. - They're dangerous, and they're being protected by the Headmaster.
- What's your first lesson, Harry? - Neville looked down at my paper.
- Herbalogy, then Enchantments and Defence. - I've looked at the timetable. - Defence, Runes and Potions tomorrow morning.
- Yeah, if Snape were still a teacher, I'd think about my life. - Neville looked at the gloomy man behind the teacher's desk.
- Fleur, let me walk you to your room," I finished my omelette and rose from my seat, offering my hand to my wife.
- Harry, I'll see you in Herbalogy," Neville headed towards the exit to join the Gryffindors.
- It's a shame he's not studying with me," Luna looked sadly at the departing young man. - It's...hard on Gryffindor right now.... it's hard on Gryffindor right now.
- I know," I gritted my teeth. - That's why I came back.
- Mrs Potter," Flitwick caught up with us in the corridor outside the Ravenclaw dormitory. - Would you mind giving me a few minutes?
- Yes, Professor," the girl smiled.
- As I recall from the Tournament, you used to specialise in Spells?
- You're quite right," Fleur nodded.
- I have a rather unusual suggestion for you.... - Flitwick thought for a moment. - I propose that you become my assistant, so that you can improve your spellcasting skills and prepare yourself to become a Master of Spells, if you wish.
Fleur looked at me doubtfully, but I nodded encouragingly, not intending to stop my wife from perfecting her art. Besides, she wasn't in any danger in Flitwick's company - the multiple European champion of magical duelling could offend anyone, and could hold even Dumbledore at bay for a while.
- Professor Flitwick," Fleur smiled broadly. - I would be happy to accept such a generous offer from a master of spells and a master of duelling.
- Then, if you don't mind, of course, I suggest you get started right away," Flitwick replied cheerfully. - I have a lesson with the first year Gryffindor class right now.
- Of course," Fleur answered softly, "but I think it would be better if I worked with the girls and you with the boys; my aura has a lesser effect on children.
- Reasonable," Flitwick nodded. - Besides, with your help, I can try to perfect the amulet that protects the mind from Veela magic.
* * *
- Sorry I'm late, Professor Sprout," I walked quietly into the greenhouse where the Herbalism class was being held. - I was detained by Professor Flitwick.
- Come in, Mr Potter," Sprout glanced at me unhappily. - Your seat is at the third table on the right.
Devilish. Ron Weasley. I don't know how he was without his usual date, Hermione Granger, with whom they'd apparently moved on to a closer relationship, but now I had to work with one of the least pleasant people I'd ever met.
Neville, who was not fooled by the impassive expression on my face, nodded sympathetically as he continued to deftly trim some unpleasant plant that was wiggling its leaves and twigs.
- Mr Potter, since you're late, I'll repeat the task once more," Sprout walked over to my desk, where I was silently tying up my apron and putting on heavy, dull gloves. - You need to carefully prune the withered shoots of this plant, OsDraconis, be careful, the thorns are poisonous. Then you will need to collect the poison from the thorns, using your magic wand. The tools are on the table, and the spells you learnt last year.
Sprout stepped back, completely forgetting the fact that I wasn't at Hogwarts last year.
- Do you know what to do, Harry? - Ron looked at the tentacle-wiggling plant with disgust on his freckled face.
- We'll figure it out," I said briefly, peering into the plant's aura. - Keep your hands off that bush, or you'll get a poison needle.
Ron eagerly moved his hands away from the unhappy bush, and I carefully sent an empathic pulse toward the bush. The generic magic I was gradually mastering responded to my call, enveloping me in a soft warmth.
I don't know how intelligent this magical plant was, but thanks to the mediator in the form of tribal magic, I managed to convince it that we weren't going to do any harm, although by the end of our silent "dialogue" I was sweating profusely.
The irritated tentacle-branches slowed to a crawl, allowing me to use my wand to cut the dying shoots with careful strokes and pour resin from a small bottle over the remaining cuts.
- Give me the container for the poison," I turned to the redhead, who had been squeamish at my manipulation of the plant.
The guy handed me a small glass flask with a lapped lid.
Opening the lid, I wondered. I didn't know the spell to get the poison out. I had to improvise, remembering one of Ciaran's lessons, when the teacher had lifted stones into the air with pure power without any spells.
Concentrating, I silently pointed my hand in the direction of the flower. My ears rumbled slightly as the currents of power directed by my will gently surrounded one of the venom receptacles, creating a pressurised area right inside it. A small droplet appeared at the tip of the needle, which I immediately caught with the test tube. The next drop, the first receptacle emptied.
Pomona Sprout stopped behind me, watching carefully.
- That's an interesting method, Mr Potter," she said with a splash of her hands. - I see you managed to complete the task without using any specific spells. Fifteen Ravenclaw points.
I nodded silently, keeping my eyes on the next batch of poison.
- Class," the professor raised her voice. - Stop the assignment and approach Mr Potter's desk. Just don't say anything - you'll break your concentration.
- Professor, I won't, I'm sorry," I replied politely, "Direct control of force flows is not difficult enough, if you have the proper practice.
The two dozen people around the table glared at me in silence, and the plant, which was also getting some of the attention, wiggled its branches excitedly.
- As you can see, Mr Potter doesn't use any special spells to squeeze out the poison, nor does he use any to prevent the plant from pricking him.
- What does he use, Professor Sprout? - Hermione couldn't stand the mention of someone who could use spells that weren't available to her. She herself, as I had pointed out at the beginning of the lesson, was waving her wand furiously over the plant, reciting tooth-grinding spells.
- He uses what's called direct mental control of power," Sprout smiled softly. - It requires a great deal of skill and very good mental self-control, but it's a much more versatile tool.
- It's perfect for most herbalism operations," Neville added quietly as he joined me at the table, pushing aside a pouting Weasley, who was not paying attention, even though he was involved in the task of handing me the vials.
The young man swung his wand briefly, not attempting to use magic without its mediation, but even through his efforts the poison from the last remaining full vault flowed into the vial.
I swung my hand, lifting the cork and vial into the air, corking the container neatly.
- Professor," I held out the vial to Sprout.
- 'Thank you, Mr Potter. Ten more Ravenclaw points... And ten points to Gryffindor, Mr Longbottom.
Hermione looked at us with wild envy.
- Miss Granger," Sprout turned her attention to the honours student. - You've done very well in this class, too, so another eight points to Gryffindor for your knowledge of specialised Herbalism spells.
Granger's look became even more resentful - it was the first time she'd received fewer points for a lesson than I had, unless it was Defence Against the Dark Arts.
- That's the end of the lesson, I'm not going to give you an assignment to master direct control, because it's not used by most Hogwarts graduates, and it's not generally part of the Herbalogy material.... But I would be happy to have someone besides Mr Potter and Mr Longbottom in seventh year demonstrate the method in my class. Goodbye.
Sprout turned abruptly, disappearing into a thick wall of shoots that concealed another exit from the greenhouse that none of the students risked passing through - a good deal of which were not the most pleasant of shrubs.
- What have you got, Neville? - We emerged from the greenhouse and strolled leisurely towards Hogwarts, enjoying the warmth of the sun still in the earth as it slowly entered autumn.
- Potions with Slughorn now," Neville stretched out. - 'Last year I would have started looking for soap and rope, but now...' Now I'm rather interested.
- Slughorn is a brilliant and completely misunderstood man," I reflected. - I'd say he's one of the strangest people I've ever met in my life.
- Perhaps," Neville shook his head. - I don't know him that well.
- When the Hellfire was blazing in his house and the roof was cracking, he was perfectly calm, reading spells to keep the house from collapsing on our heads before it did. - I lowered my voice, because my classmates would be catching up with us soon, and all my protective amulets had been working at full capacity since I'd started at Hogwarts, draining my energy little by little.
- Where did you do that? - Neville whistled.
- Last year, I secretly travelled to England specifically to meet Horatius, and at this point, Dumbledore came to visit him.... - I was practically whispering by now, looking around. - The four of us had trashed the entire guest mansion to cover up the apparatus trail, but the Headmaster ended up with his nose in a charred pile of rocks.
- You've had a fun life, I see.
- I'll say. - I extinguished some of the cloaking spells as I approached the gates of Hogwarts. - But I didn't tell you that.
- No problem," Neville snorted. - You're going to have a fun lesson with our Hogwarts scarecrow today.
- But before that, I have Spells with Flitwick, assisted by my Fleur," I smiled.
- Have I told you yet, Lord Potter, that you're a bloody lucky and cunning sort? - Neville laughed.
- Yes, but if you keep saying it regularly, I won't take offence," I laughed.
- Good luck," Neville clapped me on the shoulder, disappearing down a side corridor.
* * *
- Harry, how did you manage to master such an interesting way of controlling magic? - Padma Patil appeared beside me, studying my impenetrable face curiously.
- It's a long story, Padma," we walked, surrounded by sixth year Equinoxes who had caught up with me, towards Flitwick's office. - I had a lot of time and very good teachers who weren't afraid of Voldemort and Dumbledore.
- Are you going to tell us where you've been? - Padma, I realised, wasn't trying to flirt with me, she was just curious. Considering that her twin sister, along with Lavender Brown, were Hogwarts' top gossipers.... It was clear where the roots of such curiosity came from.
- You know, Padma," I considered how much time I had left before class started, and decided to clear the matter up before the end. - I'm really nice to you-you never participated in my fourth-year bullying, never questioned my words-but don't get me wrong...
I hesitated.
- If I tell you where and with whom I've been - then sooner or later this information will become public. And Voldemort is still not defeated, and I wouldn't want my friends to suffer more from the war than they are now.
- You don't trust us, Harry," Padma summed up sadly.
- I wonder why that is? - Corner, who had heard the last words, came closer. - Do you suspect us of something?!
I wondered why a fellow student who had never shown much hostility towards me was reacting so strongly. Maybe Ginny dumped him?
- Not exactly. Can you vouch for the fact that no one will be able to get anything out of you with Legilimens, Padma? - I smiled softly to soften the denial.
- No," the girl furrowed her brow. - 'But we're at Hogwarts, aren't we?
- We had a Voldemort-obsessed teacher in our first year, a Basilisk and the Dark Lord's spirit in our second, and Dementors in our third. Hogwarts isn't that safe, Padma, and the less you know the better for you. I wouldn't want you to be tortured trying to find out things about me.
- I'll take that as a yes. - Padma looked upset.
* * *
- Come in, students, sit down. - Flitwick changed his habits, and this time he didn't sit on the table, but hovered in the air in front of the board.
I noticed that the little professor had grown in strength over the past year, or had been carefully masking his real capabilities until then. Considering Sirius had recently blabbed about how Flitwick had made contact with Hogwarts, this was not surprising. Perhaps the professor had improved his abilities by merging with the ancient castle.
Taking a seat next to Terry Booth, I prepared to listen.
- We are going to have a much more interesting lesson today, my friends. - Flitwick was literally beaming with good cheer. - Your group will be divided into two parts, the boys will be taught by me, and the girls by my new assistant and a student who is a candidate for the title of Master of Spells. Mrs Potter, please.
The class gasped. Some, more well-mannered, raised their eyebrows politely, others expressed their admiration for the teacher's words by whistling.
Fleur walked into the classroom, dressed in a strict trouser suit and snow-white shirt. Smiling softly at me, she walked to the half of the classroom where the girls had already settled in.
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