Chapter Text
Harry considered which of his tasks he should do first. He was on his way to his common room to change and wash, so he judged that the most time-efficient plan would be to change immediately, go outside to train, and look for the kitchens along the way.
Everyone was at lunch, so no one stopped him before he reached his room. He put his dirty clothes into the laundry basket, washed off the remains of the soup that was still on him, and went to find lothes for training. He chose a black tracksuit with his team's logo on the back. Under it, besides a t-shirt, he put on a weighted vest, and fastened several weighted bands to his arms and legs.
He planned to stay outside for several hours to avoid people as much as possible, so at least he push his body properly. He put on a breathing mask and fingerless gloves and headed out.
But once he left the common room, he realized he didn't even know the approximate location of the kitchens.
Then he remembered ghosts.
They had to know the castle well, he just needed to find one and ask for directions.
By sheer luck, he didn't meet a single student, and eventually found a classroom where his instincts told him a ghost might be present.
Peeves was writing vulgar words on the blackboard when he heard the door open. He finished the word and turned around, staring straight into black-green rises that returned his gaze without the slightest emotion.
If he'd been alive, he would've died of a heart attack.
He jumped and prepared to flee from the incarnation of death in black.
"Stop."
The cold, muffled voice from beneath the mask froze him in place. He didn't dare move.
"How do I get to the kitchens....please?"
He exhaled slightly. The boy just wanted directions and would leave. He didn't even consider lying and giving him wrong instructions. Even as a Hogwarts poltergeist, the mortal filled him with a sense of threat. Besides, there was the Bloody Baron and his obsession with that strange student.
"You must go down the corridor past the Great Hall, into the dungeons, and look for a place with barrels. Behind one of them is the entrance. Don't confuse it with the Hufflepuff common room, that one has a password."
That satisfied Harry. He turned to leave.
"Thanks." Peeves heard before the door closed and he was alone again.
Once he calmed down, he had to think about why he reacted so extremely to that student.
There was something about him. Something unnatural.
Finding the kitchen entrance wasn't difficult in the end. What shocked him more was what he found inside.
Instead of normal cooks, there were small, big-eared creatures in rags.
The shock was even worse for them, one fainted, another hurt himself by not paying attention to what he was doing.
Harry tried to greet them, but that only frightened them more, because his mask distorted his voice into an unintelligible whisper.
Finally, the bravest house-elf gathered courage, a very old one who clearly managed the kitchen.
"May I ask what you are and what you wish for, sir?"
Harry removed his mask, which partially calmed the kitchen staff, at least now they saw a human.
"Hello...I'm Harry." He offered his hand, but when it wasn't returned, he withdrew it. "I just wanted to arrange..that I'll cook my own food. No offense."
That was something entirely new.
No one had ever told the elves they didn't want them to cook.
Only then did they realize that a student stood before them, probably a first-year, still a child, and a wizard. No one like that had ever wanted to do "menial work".
"Sir Harry, what are you saying? It is our duty and honor to serve Hogwarts. It is not fitting that you do our work, the old elf tried to dissuade him."
Harry dropped to one knee to be closer to the elf's level.
The elf trembled, because in the student's eyes, he saw only death.
"I'm sorry for the complications this will cause you... but I wasn't asking for permission... l' even do my own laundry and cleaning if it helps... If there's any problem with me being here, don't worry... It'll be my responsibility."
With that, he stood up, put his mask back on, and left.
It took the elves a while to return to work. Their minds were still full of the figure that had appeared.
Who was he?
Harry enjoyed the landscape around the castle. He loved the freedom he felt there. It was a beauty he knew he didn't belong to.
He spent time running and exploring, covered the entire area, briefly considered going into the forest, but postponed that visit.
He spent an hour swimming after finding an accessible shore where he left his clothes.
But most of all, he enjoyed discovering one very interesting tree.
While running, he came across a massive willow. When he approached it, its branches suddenly attacked him.
It amused him, he avoided the attack easily.
So he stopped and began dodging with minimal movement.
It was a fascinating form of training, and he decided to practice it often.
"This is fun .. but I know you can do better, right?" he said.
He didn't know if the tree could understand him, but he tried it.
Apparently it could, because the willow increased its tempo, as if trying to prove him right.
You're doing great... but maybe try improving it? Some combinations, tricks?"
In response, several branches attacked at once from different directions.
That's amazing..you're great," he praised his plant friend while dodging branches that, at that speed, could easily break bones and cripple.
It was fun, but he decided it was time to show what he could do.
Hagrid was on patrol when he noticed the Whomping Willow was unusually active, thrashing wildly.
He went to investigate and saw from distance that the tree was attacking black figure that dodged its lows and even provoked it.
He should probably stop it, but he definitely didn't want to get hit by one of those branches. With his size, he wouldn't dodge them.
As he watched the small figure, suddenly, after one attack, it vanished.
One moment it was there, the next it wasn't.
A second later, a loud impact rang out, audible even from Hagrid's distance.
When he looked for the source, he saw the figure right by the trunk.
Harry patted the tree's trunk in farewell, calming it.
"That was fun.... I'll come back... I've got some ideas for your improvement... so don't be mad, okay?"
He turned to leave, but noticed a massive figure running toward him down the hill.
Hagrid, followed by a large drooling dog, reached him, out of breath.
'Gods-who the hell are you? Don't you know the Whomping Willow is extremely dangerous?
He reached to place a hand on Harry's shoulder, but Harry smoothly avoided the hand and stepped past him.
Hagrid turned, confused at how quickly the figure had moved behind him.
"Harry?" he whispered, confused, as the teenager removed his hood and walked toward the castle.
Hagrid thought about chasing him, but realized the boy didn't want to talk.
Instead, he watched the retreating figure in the black tracksuit with a large white shark logo and the words:
"Shark Gym".
Then he turned and approached the willow, which looked exhausted and motionless.
When he reached the trunk, his eyes widened in shock.
There was a hole in it, shaped and sized like a fist.
Harry sat alone in the common room, iluminating a book with a small lamp.
It was half past eleven. Everyone else had gone to sleep.
He knew there was no point in sleeping so early, and besides, he was waiting for the Baron.
The Baron took his time. He didn't want anyone else to hear his secrets.
Now was the right moment, he thought, as he passed through the wall and flew toward his student.
Harry didn't disappoint, he reacted to his presence before the ghost even announced himself.
"Good evening. I hope the time of this meeting does not bother you too much. I cannot allow others to hear my knowledge. I trust you understand." the Baron greeted him, floating over and 'sitting' on the sofa.
"Well then, I heard you had your first Charms lesson today. May I ask how it went, and whether you
had any prior experience with magic?"
Harry put down the book and focused fully on the Baron.
"No.."ve never learned magic befor... and it didn't work today either."
That surprised the ghost. He had assumed the boy would excel immediately.
"Really? That is surprising. Could you show me the spell, please?"
Harry expected the request and found it logical. He reached for his wand.
"Lumos."
Nothing happened.
The Baron was confused. He thought the failure must be due to pronunciation or movement, but both were perfect, and still nothing happened.
It forced him to think.
He ruled out magical weakness, being a magical entity himself, he was highly sensitive to magic, and he felt great power in the boy. Also, without a certain magical level, one wouldn't even be enrolled at Hogwarts.
Perhaps there was a block, a curse, a limitation preventing the magic from manifesting.
Or..perhaps he simply didn't have the right wand.
"Boy, I may have an idea why the spellisnt working. Two theories: one, something is blocking you, a curse or limitation. Two, you don't have the right wand. The first you can check tomorrow in the infirmary, but now we can look at the wand. How did you get it?"
That idea interested Harry. It could be a reason, but it also sounded like an easy excuse after the first failure. Talent and luck meant nothing without effort and persistence.
Still, he looked thoughtfully at the wand.
'Is the wand from your family vault, or did it choose you in Ollivander's shop, or another store?"
"I bought it at Ollivander's." Harry replied, invalidating that theory.
But then he added:
'It's strange though..Everyone seems convinced that wands are a necessity for magic... Same with words and movements..and yet it only takes..."
He set the wand down and extended his index finger.
"...Less than this. Lumos."
The tip of his finger began to glow, just like the wands in class.
The Bloody Baron stared with his mouth open.
In centuries, he had never seen someone fail with a wand, and cast effortlessly without one.
"That.. that is truly fascinating. Can you cancel it? Or use other spells?"
Harry casually drew in the air with his glowing finger
"No.x... Lumos.. Nox.. Lumos Lumos.. Nox."
The light went out on one finger, appeared on the other, vanished, appeared on both pinkies, then disappeared again.
"I haven't tried other spells yet. Got any suggestions?"
For a moment, the Baron couldn't speak.
This was incredible. No wand, perfect control, natural mastery.
Genius
Or something more.
"Try Diffindo."
The Baron said. "A small cutting charm. Nothing complex."
Harry thought for a moment, then looked for a target. His eyes fell on a candle stand with an unlit candle on a nearby table.
He extended his finger toward it.
"Diffindo."
He made a slight diagonal motion.
The tip of the candle slid off-cut cleanly in the direction of the movement.
Harry turned to the ghost.
"Well? Satisfied?"
The Baron was stunned.
That talent. Those possibilities. That potential.
This surpassed mere talent or genius.
"Amazing"" he whispered.
There was no doubt, the boy had been shaped by God himself...
or perhaps by the Devil.