章 12: Chapter 9: Friends

"Where have you been Harry?" Penny asked when Harry entered the Hufflepuff common room through its barrel-like entrance.

"Practising some spells?" Harry asked, more than stated. He had been trying to figure out the disillusionment charm in an abandoned classroom. He wanted to visit the Room of Requirement at some point but didn't want to be followed and reveal its existence. The room was a precious resource only as long as it was unknown, considering that once the room was set on a purpose by the user, nobody else could enter.

Unfortunately, the disillusionment charm hadn't been going well. He'd found the spell in the library section dedicated to spell work beyond the Hogwarts curriculum. However, Harry felt that while the spell was difficult, he was going to manage eventually. The reason the spell wasn't taught was probably because no professor would want their students to have the ability to turn invisible. While he'd had luck finding the disillusionment spell though, the mind arts remained elusive.

"Spells?" Penny frowned, "shouldn't you be working on Potions," she said, which made Harry blush uncharacteristically and look away from the blonde girl.

"Spells are just more fun…" he mumbled, fixating his eyes on a spot somewhere above Penny's head, a portrait of a drunk monk trying to catch a dog that had stolen his chicken leg.

Penny sighed. "You also have to work on stuff you're not good at…" she chided, "I'm giving my best in Transfiguration," she said, then huffed and went silent.

"What's up?" Harry asked, noticing the slightly awkward atmosphere, "Penny for your thoughts?" he offered, making the girl laugh, before once again stilling.

"It's just," she began, this time avoiding his eyes, "you're always running off alone to practise whatnot or find this and that. Me and Cedric are the only Puffs you even talk to. Is everything alright?"

Harry sighed and walked over to the girl, sitting down next to her on the bright yellow couch in the corner of the common room. This required him to clear away some potion texts and a green sweater. He slung an arm over Penny's shoulder, causing her to instinctively lean her head into him. He rubbed up and down on her arm, her blonde hair tickling his nose. "You know, you and Cedric are like a fire," he began stiltedly, "suffusing everything around you with warm light. You shine on so many things you probably can't even keep track of them all. Me? I'm more of a match, sometimes not even a lit one. The light I cast can only interact with the brightest fires because all others just don't reach me," he said.

"You mean you're an introvert? Why'd you have to phrase it like that?" Penny queried, curious blue eyes looking up painfully at his green ones.

"I guess." Harry chuckled, "I'm just an idiot," he said, before squeezing the girl's shoulder and standing up. This caused Penny to notice the position they'd previously been in and blush. "You and Cedric are just the two friends I've made until now. Not all Hufflepuffs are extremely social, that's not even a core tenant, we're supposed to be loyal, and I am loyal. So why don't we find Cedric and go throw bread at the giant squid instead of doing homework for once," he suggested.

A suggestion that Penny followed like any student for whom studying was the last priority on a weekend and who only did it for want of any interesting activities to waste their time on.

After a few minutes of walking, he watched the girl hop cheerfully in front of him towards the quidditch pitch, where Cedric was probably watching the Hufflepuff house team practice. He'd lied to her about being introverted, of course. He was more of an extrovert, to be honest. But ever since being reborn into the body of a child, he'd adapted. Spending a lot of time with others just wasn't possible when there was such a large and invisible maturity gap between them. Magic might have been friendship, but so was magic, and if Harry couldn't have the former he would have the latter. He would probably hang out with his house-mates more after they were on the tail-end of puberty because by then they'd actually start having things in common. The biggest reason why he mostly hung out with Penny and Cedric was because they were quite frankly the most mature out of all his year-mates. A maturity that showed itself in their talent for magic.

Even then though, they were still children, which left Harry with almost a dozen hours every day in which he could only practise magic or busy himself with other hobbies such as… He laughed, causing Penny to look back at him curiously.

"What're you laughing at?" she asked suspiciously with the thought shared by all children, that if someone was laughing, they were laughing at them.

"Just at the fact that magic is so much more fun than the other hobbies I had before coming here, that I've basically stopped doing everything non-magic related," he said. At this point, if he was conversing with an adult, they probably would have said something about keeping one's life balanced, but Penny just nodded sagely.

"Magic is great," she said.

"The only thing that doesn't have anything to do with it, that I still do, is…" he mused, before trailing off, at which the girl shrugged from where she was ambling in front of him with her body turned in his direction. She was walking backwards, something that caused her to promptly trip down a small set of stairs that led into the castle courtyard, covered in the iconic Scottish fields of grass. As trampled as it was by the horde of students hanging around outside on one of the few non-rainy weekends they had here in the Highlands.

A group of nearby Ravenclaw students laughed at his friend's fall, one of them miming the event like some sort of human-shaped parrot. Harry helped an embarrassed Penny up and made sure she didn't look in the direction of the Ravenclaws by starting to walk on the opposite side of her and involving her in a conversation.

Thankfully Penny was a young girl and thus easily distractible. It wasn't long before they'd laughingly traversed the courtyard to find the wayward Cedric wistfully watching the Hufflepuff quidditch team.

"You can try out next year, I'm sure you'll make it," Harry told the boy, startling him from his daydream, one that probably involved flying for the team.

"You think so?" Cedric asked. "You haven't seen me fly before. The first lesson is next week."

Harry shrugged, "I'm sure you'll do fine. If you want to make it into the house team, you can. The competition isn't that tough yet. It's not hard to be the best out of five applicants when there are two open spots and three of your competitors didn't even prepare for the event."

Cedric cringed at his words. "No expectations," The boy muttered, looking at the Hufflepuff seeker doing a daring dive in an attempt to catch a glimmer of gold.

"You want to be a seeker?" Penny asked, causing Cedric to flush. Harry had to admit that even at the age of eleven, it was clear that the boy was going to end up with a build more suited for a beater, or a keeper. Being a seeker would just stunt his potential. Well, unless he was just that good. But from what Harry remembered from the books, that wasn't really the case. Talented, probably, but on a larger stage one needed something more than talent. Something like Harry Potter had had. Harry Evans wondered if he'd be good on a broom. He doubted it. His aunt didn't seem particularly graceful and neither did Dudley.

"Well, seeker is the only position that will be opening up next year," Cedric said in an attempt to justify his apparent decision.

"Aren't both beaters leaving as well?" Penny asked, "I think Michael told me."

"Well, yes," Cedric admitted, "but being a beater isn't…"

"Looks fun to me. Aim for the joints and smack the bludger with a bat," Harry said, causing Cedric to whine that he hadn't even played Quidditch yet and therefore couldn't possibly know what was fun or not.

"You'll see in a month when we play Gryffindor," Cedric huffed. "Seeker is the best."

Penny rolled her eyes from where she was standing behind him on the wooden stands.

"I guess I'll have to see if I can open up a time slot in my schedule," Harry mused, wondering that if he got the disillusionment charm to work, he could finally go seek out the room of requirement during the match.

"Harry, you can't ditch the match! Hufflepuff is playing. Everyone is going to be there, even the Slytherins and Ravenclaws," Penny whined this time, angrily pulling at his overly long black sleeve. Harry didn't mind, as long as she left his fabulous hat alone.

"Everyone, you say," he muttered, before grinning. Shaking his head he then did what he'd come here to do. He pulled out a loaf of old bread wrapped in paper from his leather satchel and turned to his friends, "I got this from the kitchen. You guys want to practise the levitation charm by throwing pieces of it at the lake? See if we can get the giant squid to come out," he suggested. Cedric's face lit up and Penny's eyes twinkled.

"Yeah! Flitwick is going to lose it when we come in already having mastered the spell completely," Cedric said and stood up abruptly, turning towards the lake. He looked back, "Coming, you two?" he asked, at which point Penny ran past him and swept down the stands like a Puffskein on crack.

"The last one at the lake is a Slytherin!" she shouted, causing both Harry and Cedric to break out into a run to avoid the horrible fate.

-/-

It was an hour or so later that Harry was lying down on the soft grass with his two friends, their magic spent and their bread supplies depleted. In the end, it was Penny who had won the competition of who could throw a piece of bread the furthest via the application of the levitation charm. Sure, Harry hadn't really been trying, rather matching his classmates, but it was still impressive. The girl had somehow managed to fail at casting her spell intentionally, to the purpose of cannoning the piece of bread almost twenty metres out.

It had been the only piece that a large tentacle had pulled at from beneath the depths.

"The boy who lived," Harry began, "what's that all about?" he asked.

"Don't tell me you're even reading history books instead of practising Potions," Penny said, aghast, from where she sat up to his right. Harry shrugged unapologetically.

"It sounded interesting," he justified, although to be fair he hadn't needed to crack open a history book to know about the story. He'd overheard it in Diagon Alley easily enough. None of the history books in the Hogwarts library were actually modern enough to cover the most recent war, unfortunately. He'd checked. Which meant that this was something he would have to try to figure out elsewhere. Unless his classmates were able to give a valid rendition of what he was interested in. Which was doubtful, seeing as they'd been two years old when the war had happened.

"Well, it's Neville Longbottom. The thing is that You-Know-Who tried to kill him as a baby. Went to his house on Samhain and all. But somehow it was he who got killed. It must have been Neville doing whatever killed You-Know-Who since his parents and granny were dead by then." Cedric explained, not really considering that Harry might not have known who You-Know-Who actually was, "no one really knows what happened that night though."

"Why target the Longbottoms?"

"No clue. I mean the parents were fighting against You-Know-Who, I guess," Cedric said.

"So they must have been expecting some retaliation, maybe they even went into hiding," Harry suggested. "How did You-know-Who find them then?"

"Were they in hiding?" Penny asked doubtfully and Cedric shook his head.

"No, the Longbottoms are an old family. They stayed in their residence. The family wards of places like that are supposed to be really strong. I haven't a clue how you can break something so old," he explained.

"Well, there are curse-breakers in Egypt breaking wards that are older than 4000 years," Penny interjected, at which both the children nodded.

"So where is he now? If his family died that day?" Harry asked.

"With his godfather, James Potter. He's a senior auror at the ministry," Penny said, before blushing apparently being a bit over-informed, "They're in the papers all the time," she tried to explain.

"He's also a Lord," Cedric said. "Him and Sirius Black are doing some stuff at the ministry, my dad talks about it sometimes."

So those two were alive and not imprisoned, Harry thought and wondered if they knew he existed.

"It's good that a strong Wizard like Lord Potter was the godfather. Only a day after the defeat of You-Know-Who, death eaters, his followers tried to attack Neville at the Potter residence. But Lord Black was there and they managed to defeat them," Cedric said. "I'm really glad the war ended right after."

"Apparently one of their close friends was actually a death eater in secret and led them into the Potter grounds. Peter, or something," Penny mentioned

"Well they're all in Azkaban now," Cedric muttered.

"Sounds like a "Good riddance to bad rubbish situation,"" Harry said absentmindedly as his mind reeled with all this new information. Potter and Black were alive and well, probably raising Neville Longbottom together and Pettigrew, the filthy traitor, was rotting in Azkaban under Animagus wards because his friends had been able to notify the ministry that he was one. He was a bit worried, once again, that his foreknowledge was essentially non-existent, but considering that he recognized a bunch of people at Hogwarts, stores in Diagon Alley and names of spells and magical disciplines… The divergence point. It must have been recent, perhaps even the death of his mother. Harry Potter not existing and thus not being the boy who lived was the thing that he could attribute most of the differences he'd heard to.

God only knew though. Perhaps this was an alternative time-line that had diverged millions of years ago. Maybe Voldemort hadn't even made Horcruxes. Maybe Severus Snape wasn't at Hogwarts because he was pursuing a lucrative career as a male stripper somewhere in rural Australia.

'You'll have to throw bills worth more than that to gain my attention, Potter,' Harry drawled in his mind while imagining the sallow face of the actor who'd played the dungeon bat in the movies working a pole. He grimaced.

"Why did we start talking about this?" Penny complained and pointed at Harry and the look of abject discomfort on his face, "You're all sad now."

"Yes, but it is important to know. This is recent history, hasn't even been a decade. I don't really imagine I'll learn much from Binns at least," Harry said.

"Hear hear. Not learning much from Binns," Cedric said, as if he'd been listening to the droning ghost for a lifetime, instead of three lectures at this point. Harry instinctively gripped the bezoar necklace at his neck, wondering if it would have the same effect as a crucifix if he hurled it at the deceased man sabotaging his education.

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章 13: Chapter 10: Spell-creation

"Up," Harry said imperiously, but not putting any intent behind the phrase. The broom lying on the grass to his right did not budge. Just as he'd expected. "Up!" he said again, commanding and demanding the broom to fly up into his extended hand. The wood slapped almost painfully into his palm. The Ravenclaws who had been giggling at his apparent inability to get his wood up, abruptly shut up.

Cedric, who had already mounted his own broom on his right, gave him an encouraging look.

"Now, put the broom between your legs, jump and stay afloat!" Madame Hooch shouted. A fit woman seemingly in her fifties with short grey hair and eagle eyes.

"Just don't think about it not happening," Cedric whispered unhelpfully to Harry before promptly jumping up and beginning to float with his legs extended backwards, feet hooked against the little metal bars at the back of the broom.

Harry considered his friend's words and then jumped. He'd read up on brooms and their enchantments. The basic first step was that they were made to hover a metre or so above the ground unless the owner willed otherwise. One would think that trying to stay afloat on a wooden broom high in the air and going at fast speeds would be murder on one's ass and balls, but it was actually quite comfortable when one considered the cushioning enchantments. The whole thing was even more comfortable than a women's bicycle. He wobbled from the left to the right and back again without intending to do so and grimaced at the lack of control he had over the thing. Bicycles were mechanical and propelled purely by one's own muscle. This was something else.

"Go forward, to me, to me!" Hooch shouted again, having mounted her own broom and was now flying backwards away from the tightly packed line of Hogwarts students who started awkwardly and haltingly in some cases flying towards the woman. Of the students slowly traversing the grass field in the shade of the castle, Cedric was at the forefront. Following him were two Ravenclaw boys. Harry was in the back, his flying interspersed with short abrupt breaks. The whole experience honestly felt like his first driving lesson, before he'd learned how to use the stick properly.

"You're doing great Harry," Penny beamed from next to him, moving at her own glacial, but much more fluid pace. She was obviously holding back a bit to stay level with him. Harry smiled at the girl and let go of some of his nervousness. His flying became less jagged as a result. Eventually, he and Penny reached Hooch as some of the last students to do so. They ended up spending the rest of the flying lesson sticking closely together and chatting about classes, Harry being the one to limit himself when it came to the later stages of the exercises since Penny had a slight fear of heights.

"Ever thought about becoming an animagus?" Harry asked the girl as they were making their way to the library after flying so that they could study together. Cedric had stayed behind to fly more with the other boys, "You'd probably be a bird, then you wouldn't have to be afraid of heights, since you could fly," he elaborated.

"Who ever heard of a bird scared of heights," Penny shot back as she hugged herself and cringed. "I'll take a land animal any day of the week. Even if it's a skunk. What do you think you'd be?" she then asked.

Harry thought for a second, "I've never actually thought about it. Probably a dog of some sort," he said, causing Penny to blush and start laughing. Playfully pushing her Harry looked out of a window and caught a glimpse of a pack of first-years flying circles around each other. "What's up with you all of a sudden?

Penny brushed a tear from her cheek and grinned at him with a slightly embarrassed look on her face. "Sorry, it's just that our neighbours recently got a young dog right before I went to Hogwarts. His defining characteristic is that he humps everything he can get his paws on!" she said, before bursting out into laughter again. Harry joined eventually, despite not thinking the joke that funny.

"I was more thinking about the other characteristics that dogs have, but I can see what you mean."

"Don't worry Harry, if you ever start humping everything in sight I'm sure Madame Pomfrey could do something to help," Penny reassured him.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was going, Harry asked the girl about her favourite Quidditch team, which got him a five-minute rant about the Wigtown Wanderers. It was a perfect length to cover the time it took to get to the library where they both occupied a table in the far back and cracked open their respective books. Harry was working on some arithmancy which was supposed to determine a spells wand motion and Penny was reading a book about the history of Potions in Scandinavia, like a fucking nerd.

"What's Professor Twix doing going into the restricted section like that?" Penny asked curiously, causing Harry to pause in his calculations. He didn't mind, seeing as they weren't really that fun anyway. He looked up to see that once again their thin defence professor was entering the forbidden section of the library.

"How am I supposed to know?" he asked, causing Penny to roll her eyes.

"You're a total dweeb Harry, I'm pretty sure you spend three hours a day in the library."

Harry considered her words and mentally admitted that he did spend a large amount of free time in the library. Especially since he'd found both the arithmancy and magical theory book he needed for his spell creation project. When he wasn't in the library he was practising magic somewhere in the gigantic castle they called a school. He'd recently mastered a cosmetics charm that removed the need for him to ever wash his hair. It also made them incredibly luscious. He tousled them and watched the way Penny's eyes followed the gesture.

"Well, she's here almost every third day. No clue what she does, always the restricted section though," he answered.

"Maybe she's preparing lesson plans there, away from students," Penny said with a shrug, before taking a glance at his paper. "What are you even doing?" she asked dubiously.

"It's arithmancy," Harry replied.

"Isn't that an elective in the third year?" Penny complained. "Please, just practice Potions, you're almost killing me every lesson!"

Harry scratched the back of his head, "I don't know Penny, it's not like I haven't been trying. It just doesn't work for me," he said, causing the girl to sigh.

"I guess I get it," she said, looking at the three pieces of parchments he'd filled up with calculations, "I'm probably going to be the same with arithmancy, but I want to take it so badly. All the books say it's important for developing recipes."

"I'll help you, just as you're helping me, alright," Harry promised and reached over to squeeze Penny's hand.

"Thanks, Harry. I appreciate it. I don't know if helping me with some numbers equates to me almost dying once a week from your explosions, though."

"I'll also help you in Transfiguration. You need all the help you can get."

"Hey!"

It ended up being a fun afternoon spent in the library until Pince threw them out for being a bit too loud at one point. Afterwards, Harry took Penny to the kitchens where the house elves press-ganged them into eating an entire three-course meal instead of the sandwiches they actually went there for.

-/-

"How was the flying?" Harry asked as Cedric entered the dorm they shared with the other Hufflepuff boys.

"It was great!" Cedric answered, "You really missed out. I'm definitely looking forward to being able to bring my own broom next year. I have a Comet, not even close to a good broom, but It still trumps the school ones though," he finished and then threw himself onto his bed, pulling out a quidditch magazine from somewhere and starting to read while lying in bed fully clothed. Harry looked doubtfully at his own bed and imagined how gross it would be if he fell onto it in his outside clothes. He grimaced.

Although, magic could solve most issues.

"Well, at least you get to fly," he told the boy.

"Definitely. Bad flying is better than no flying. You should join us!"

"Perhaps," Harry said, feeling slightly tired from all the work that he had been putting into arithmancy and magical theory recently. In addition to the curriculum and spells that lay outside the curriculum, such as the disillusionment charm, he felt that he was at maximum capacity recently. Maybe some zooming around the sky could refresh his batteries. He was even studying on Sundays these days, something he'd never done before unless it was for a very important exam.

Maybe he wasn't as talented as the original Harry Potter, but it should still be fun.

-/-

Harry knocked on the door to Professor Flitwick's office and entered after a squeaky voice bid him to. It was the professor's office hours and it had been three months since he had initially come to the man after class to ask about spell creation. It was the beginning of December and Harry would soon go home for Christmas. Not much had happened in the last months, except for Harry studying, deepening his connection to Cedric and Penny and occasionally saying hello to Tonks and the Weasley twins. He hadn't made that much progress with the disillusionment charm and thus he was reserving the day of the final quidditch match sometime in May to go visit the room of requirement. Otherwise, however, he had been quite successful in his goal of mastering all sorts of household and personal hygiene charms. Most importantly though, he felt like he had made tangible progress in understanding what factors went into spell creation and had written up a valid research plan to attempt and create the desired effect. He had, however, recently hit a roadblock, which he wanted to introduce to Flitwick so the man could ponder it over the Christmas holidays. Harry meanwhile would enjoy his Christmas by focusing on lighter topics. With all the classes, homework and extracurricular study he was doing he was beginning to feel slightly burnt out with structured magic and was looking forward to setting fire to objects with just his mind for a change.

"Mr. Evans, what can I do for you?" Professor Flitwick asked while vibrating in his seat, before hastily adding, "Please sit."

Harry smirked at the half-eaten platter of cookies on the man's table and wondered if it was there for the students or the professor.

"After our discussion on spell creation in September," Harry started, Flitwick nodding along eagerly, "I've found, read and incorporated the two books you suggested to me, professor." It hadn't really been an easy task. They were both thick tomes and no matter how well written they may have been, they'd been difficult to comprehend at times. This didn't seem to escape Flitwick.

"The whole thing, front to back?" the man asked dubiously.

Harry nodded. "I needed one month per book, really. For the past month I have been working on a research proposal in regards to creating the spell we were talking about," he said, before holding up a hand and pulling out from his leather satchel almost a dozen papers bound together with a paper clip. He slid it over to the professor, who adjusted his glasses and picked up the sheaves.

"Potential search command spells by Harry Evans, academic supervisor yet to be determined," the half-goblin read aloud.

"I've narrowed down the calculations and magical theory aspects going into the incantation to determine potential matches on pages three, four and five," Harry said, causing the professor to flick to the corresponding pages, which he quickly read before going further.

"It was quite easy to determine that due to the spells' intended similarities to the homenum revelio spell, revelio would be an easy choice as a second word in the incantation. However, it required some calculations to determine that the first word should perhaps be only three syllables to match the second one. This should add stability. Seeing as this is a spell that doesn't need to be pushed to its boundaries in terms of magical output the possibility of four syllables for the first word and thus seven for the entire incantation was deemed unnecessarily risky," Harry explained as Flitwick followed his calculations, quickly reaching the last section of the proposal.

"Your conclusion seems solid, I'd need to look it over a bit myself later, but, three syllables seems like the obvious choice," Flitwick said, peering from his high chair over the documents and looking Harry in the eyes. "I see here that you are considering the incantation littera revelio, amongst others," the man said before flipping over to the next page, which detailed the wand movement. "A downwards lockpick with a wide horizontal circle. Cumbersome," he commented, "but seeing as this is a utility spell it shouldn't matter overly much. The circle represents knowledge which can roughly symbolise the littera of the incantation, but literra will be pronounced with the lock-pick and not the circular motion. However, it just doesn't work the other way around because one can't do a downwards after a horizontal, only before," Flitwick mumbled as his eyes flew over the page and he seemed to consider some things.

"The work on incantation and wand movement are both good, however, the combination of the two makes the whole thing a bit heavy. It will take a lot of focus and a lot of power. Formally speaking though, the argumentation is airtight. Nonetheless…" The man paused, "might be better to start from the beginning and to try to find a one-word incantation." He said, almost asking himself as he pulled out his wand and twirled it in the air. Bright numbers appeared in the barely illuminated and cluttered study.

"The formulaic aspects being airtight at the sacrifice of efficiency is almost intentional," Harry mentioned. "It wasn't necessarily planned, but in hindsight, I personally wouldn't want to have it any other way. This is a non-combat spell, it will never be needed in the middle of something time-intensive when one can't focus and wants to conserve energy. I'd rather have it annoying but formulaic rather than non-formulaic but efficient."

"A matter of personal opinion," the professor replied, before flipping to the last page, quickly glancing through it and astutely picking up on the main issue of Harry's proposal. "I see this is the section that requires the most work. Meaning against form, definition of search parameters and blurriness of results. The ideas are nearly ingenious but they mesh together like a house on fire," he concluded and crossed his arms in thought.

Harry sighed. "Yes, I've had some issues narrowing down how to define the search terms. More specifically, how can I encompass a unit of meaning such as 'animal transfiguration' into a thought that can be reflected by text, when I have no idea what that text may look like, as I haven't seen it yet. On the other hand, defining the search by the form wouldn't account for things such as different handwriting, spelling, different languages or even damage to the book. Honestly, I've been running in circles all week."

"I noticed that you've been distracted in class recently," the professor said as he put down the collection of papers with a sigh. The man took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "There is a solution, perhaps, to your conundrum of form vs. meaning. However, it won't be one you will like and I want to preface it with something else."

Harry nodded and continued waiting patiently in his chair.

"The quality of the work you brought, is quite frankly astonishing and through our conversation, I have no doubt that it was you alone who did it. This is also partially because there were some easily avoidable missteps present, which could have been avoided with some light collaboration," the man said, causing Harry to blush at the fact that he hadn't wanted to seek assistance before getting completely stuck because of pride. "The theoretical knowledge to create this research proposal can perhaps be found in the mind of a fourth-year student at our fine institution, however, it seems that it is the rare pupil who can accompany that knowledge with such vision, determination and willingness to create something new," Flitwick said passionately as he waved his arms, looking honestly quite funny. "Congratulations Mr. Evans, for accomplishing something which I've never seen students, four years your senior, even attempt," he finished sincerely, causing Harry to look down and mull over his response.

It had been a recurring theme, during his muggle schooling, to be lauded as a prodigy, and praised for his knowledge, his skills and his work ethic. Something that he felt no pride in show-casing, because of his current mental age. To exhibit any less of the aforementioned qualities would have been nearly impossible.

"Thank you, professor, for your kind words. I hope that one day, once this spell is finished, it will help me and others. Such as Professor Twix, who I have been seeing in the library a lot recently, in using their time more efficiently," Harry said, doing the good old thank you for the praise, but I find it unjustified, so let's switch topics.

"It would be a spell of incredible utility, although what Professor Twix is doing in the restricted section isn't really related to finding a particular book," Flitwick said, before sighing. "Now onto the bad news." He paused. "Your spell, in terms of meaning search, will most likely remain a dream for the moment. Many wizards have tried to decode meaning and its properties. None have succeeded to the point which your spell would require."

"What then?" Harry asked, "Am I supposed to concentrate on form and elicit only one in a hundred of what I'm actually searching for?"

Flitwick looked Harry in the eyes, before sighing again. "If only it were as easy as we'd like it to be, eh," he muttered, before continuing, "Spells are variable, form is a step that comes before free form. By creating the spell now and beginning to practise it, you could introduce variability into the form you are looking for. Then, casting it again, with another, slightly different form in mind. Or you could even one day learn to hold several forms in mind when casting the spell. Who knows," he paused. "How do I explain this?"

This is where Harry interrupted the man, "I understand, I think. Better to make an imperfect spell, get some use out of it, stretch it to its limits and then use it as inspiration for something bigger in the future, than get stuck on the stage of trying to perfect something but suffering for ten years before making progress."

"Essentially!" Flitwick said with a smile, before glancing at the clock. "Time is running short. Why don't you think about my suggestion over the holidays before reconvening next year? Your spell is almost done, but you should finish it and practise it under supervision."

Harry nodded, grabbed his research proposal and stood up from the chair. "I'll revise the last chapter with simply the form in mind. It shouldn't take long. I was never planning on casting the spell on my lonesome."

"Good, good. Terribly unsafe, that," Flitwick agreed, hopping off of his chair and escorting Harry to the door. "I expect great things from you Mr. Evans and perhaps while as an educator I shouldn't be saying this… You can let your coursework slip a bit if this is the extent of your extra-curricular projects. Learning out of one's initiative is the best learning. Now off you go, it's late!" the professor finished before slamming the door in Harry's face.

Harry huffed and looked down at the leather satchel which held a sheaf of papers that represented essentially three months of his free time. He'd been working on the thing for about three hours a day for so long…

"Hopefully I can finish this soon and finally find a book on the Mind Arts," he muttered, before shaking his head and beginning to make his way back to the Hufflepuff dorms. It was late, the discussion with Professor Flitwick having apparently taken much longer than he'd thought.

Pausing for a second Harry looked out of a window onto the Hogwarts grounds below. Not much was visible due to it being night now, but the starry sky illuminated Hagrid's hut and the forbidden forest beyond. Snapping his fingers to produce a small flame Harry looked at his reflection in the glass. Messy short red-hair, pale, green-eyes growing body. "You're a wizard, Harry," he said, before turning off the fire with a simple thought. It wasn't often that he was able to look at his reflection without lamenting what he'd lost. But today seemed to be one of those times. "Maybe because I have all the pieces of an identity in this body now as well. Friends, dreams, hobbies, ambitions, realistic expectations of the future and competencies. Almost makes me not wish that this had never happened," he tilted his head and swung his arms as he walked, "but what's missing?"

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