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Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

1^st Course – A New Flavor

Harry Potter was used to being stared at.

He had a variety of reasons for it.  His hair was very messy and wayward.  He had a very large lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.  Before, whenever he was seen next to his relations, it was always commented that he looked very different compared to them in all sorts of ways: physical body shape and demeanor.  One of his favorite things to do in the world also garnered him a lot of attention, mostly positive thankfully.

Since learning that he was a wizard, as in actual magic and not figurative, the staring and the attention did not change at all.  Whenever someone from the Wizarding World learned of his name, they would stop and stare at him too.  Like in the Muggle world, what the magical or Wizarding one called the non-magical one, the staring could vary in intensity and interest, though it seemed people in the magical one were interested in his name as much as his appearance.

That did not mean he enjoyed it however.  Sitting here in his Potions class, being stared at by his fellow students and the professor, was not enjoyable at all. 

There was a tiny difference this time.  This time he was doing something that he did not think would be so stare-worthy, and apparently it was.

“I said, what are you doing, Potter,” Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin and Potions professor said.  He was tall and thin, towering over Harry.  His eyes were very intense, almost unkind.  Something Harry was unsure if he was imagining or not.

“I was…tasting the ingredients, Sir,” Harry said sheepishly.

Snickers and outright laughter could be heard from half of the students, while the other stared at him with frank disbelief. 

“Tasting them,” Snape repeated in a tone of contempt.  “And why would you be doing that?”

Harry coughed.  “Well, uh, I read that some of the materials were similar to non-magical ingredients.  The glass chives came from the same plant family as regular chives.  And the water ginger is another kind of ginger.  So I was curious to see if they tasted the same.”

Snape’s frown made him look even more displeased.  In this case however, his frown was not from displeasure.  At least not solely from displeasure.  There was confusion in it as well.  “Your book should not be describing the ingredients in that fashion, not yet.”

“I bought an extra book when I was at the store, when I was getting my supplies.”  Harry squirmed a little from the scrutiny.  “The book describes ingredients and talks about the way they relate to Muggle plants and what can be used for either of them.”

“I know of it.  It is not on your book list.  What possessed you to purchase it?” Snape asked, growing more confused and just a little curious.

“It looked interesting and it seemed useful for something I like to do,” Harry said quietly. 

“Which is?” Snape prompted.

“I like to cook,” Harry said at last.  “And I was curious if the magical plants tasted like the Muggle ones.”

A snort of derision could be heard on either side of the classroom, prompting more snickers and whispered comments.  Snape’s eyes flicked to the side and then back to Harry.  “You like to cook,” he repeated slowly.

“Yes Sir.”  Harry shrugged weakly.  “I thought I’d like potions because it would be a lot like cooking.”

Snape looked at Harry for a long moment, his face curiously blank.  “The sooner you realize that brewing potions is not the same as cooking, the better,” he said at last.  “For example, in cooking, tasting the ingredients in a certain order is less likely to poison you than in potion making.”

Harry gulped, as did a lot of the other students.

“Next time I watch you doing so, I will continue to watch,” Snape said softly.  “Am I clear?”

Harry nodded.

“That goes for all of you,” Snape said, addressing the class.  “Do not eat or taste the ingredients.”  He waited for the chorus of replies to fade.  “As you were,” he said and continued on. 

Harry looked down at the desk, face red with embarrassment.  The whispers continued, everyone staring.  Snape continued to look at Harry with a complicated expression before a violently bubbling cauldron drove the incident from his mind.

-0-

“What is your problem?”

Harry sighed and turned.  “I was just curious,” he said wanly.  “I didn’t think about how I could get poisoned.”

Seamus Finnegan glared at Harry.  “Well you should’ve!  Now we’re the laughing stock of the school because we got someone who was eating things in Potions!”

“I wasn’t eating them,” Harry said, growing defensive.  “They’re described as similar to regular chive and ginger and like I said, I wanted to see how they tasted.  I didn’t think it was a big deal.”  He looked around.  Seamus had stopped him a few hallways down from the Potions’ classroom and the other boys from his House were around him.  The girls from the House had walked past but had stopped a little farther down to watch.

“At least he made up a reason,” Dean Thomas said in what he thought was a soothing way.  It had the opposite effect unfortunately.

“I didn’t make up a reason,” Harry said shortly.  “I do like to cook.”

“You’re eleven, you don’t know how,” Seamus said snidely.

It was Harry’s turn to glare.  “Don’t tell me what I do or don’t know.”

Seamus bristled.  “Whatever.  Just don’t do it again.  Even Longbottom knows not to just eat things in class like that.”  He ignored Neville Longbottom’s look and flush.  “Don’t you know how to act?”

“No, I don’t.  I literally found out about magic a week ago.  Not all of us are lucky to grow up with family, or ones that know about magic,” Harry retorted.

“Then why does Dean and Granger know how?” Seamus spat back.  “They’re Muggleborn and they know what to do.”

Hermione Granger down the hall narrowed her eyes at the scene while Dean looked a little uncomfortable but said nothing.

“It’s no use,” Ronald Weasley said, giving Harry an unkind look.  “I sat with him on the train and he’s rude.  Commented on how different our candy is and had a go at my mum.”

“I didn’t!”  Harry threw up his hands.  “I asked if you knew how your mum made the sandwiches!  They tasted different to me than corn beef I’ve had before and I was curious.  They tasted good!  And I’ve never had magical candy before, of course I thought they would be different.”

“You’re so food obsessed,” Seamus said with disgust.  “You act like a starving dog, would do anything for a scrap.”  He and the other boys stared at Harry’s face.  A flicker of anger had flashed before the boy’s face became utterly still and cold.  “Wh-where’re you going?”

Harry continued to walk away.  “Somewhere else.  I know how to act when people don’t want me around.”

Parvati Patil tugged on Lavender Brown’s arm.  “Come on, let’s go,” Parvati said softly.

Lavender continued to look down the hall, watching Harry turn the corner and at the other boys arguing among themselves.  “Okay,” she replied softly.

-0-

Albus Dumbledore finished writing his latest thought.  The Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry was the picture of what one might imagine when they think of the word wizard.  He was aged, his hair completely grey but still full of life.  His beard was long and straight, perfect for looking thoughtful and wise when pulled.  Blue eyes peered intelligently from behind plain rectangle glasses. 

He looked up at the professors of the core classes that the school offered: Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts.  “Well then, if there is anything else someone would like to bring up?”  At the headshakes, he nodded companionably.  “Excellent.  Meeting adjourned then.”  After a few moments, he realized how one of the professors had hung back slightly.  “Yes, Severus?”

Snape hesitated.  “I had a strange…incident of sorts to bring to your attention, actually.”

“By all means,” Dumbledore said.

“I caught Potter eating potion ingredients.”

Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor and Transfiguration professor frowned.  “He was eating the ingredients?”

“Tasting, or eating,” Snape said. 

“Whatever for?” she asked.

“He claimed that he wanted to see if they tasted any different than their Muggle analogues.”

“Hmm, well that is a reasonable question I suppose,” Dumbledore said.  “And a fairly reasonable way to find out.  Do we know why he was curious about it?”

“He claims he likes to cook,” Snape said. 

“He is only eleven, what does he know about cooking?” McGonagall huffed.

“That was my reasoning as well,” Snape said.  “He also said he purchased additional books in preparation and was…looking forward to my class.”

“And that upsets you it seems,” Dumbledore chuckled, chuckling harder at Snape’s sour look.  “Hagrid did mention that Mister Potter did buy more books when he took him to Diagon for his school shopping.  Hagrid made sure they were not inappropriate books as far as spellwork went, but did not make a note of what exactly he bought.”

“I did pay more attention to him after the incident and his ability to use a knife is different compared to his peers.  Better, if I am forced to admit it,” Snape said quietly.  “Completely unexpected.”

“Of course you would be upset if a student from a different House is performing well,” McGonagall said with the barest trace of snideness in her tone. 

“You were the one that recommended I pay more attention to those outside my House for more altruistic reasons,” Snape retorted.  “I would be amenable to go back to ignoring them.”

Dumbledore cleared his throat lightly, interrupting the burgeoning argument.  “I assume you told him not to do that in the future?” he asked.  At Snape’s nod, he continued, “Then the lesson was taught and we will hope Mister Potter learns.  As far as the other professors are concerned, he seems to be doing well for the first week of school.  What do you two say?”

“He is fine,” McGonagall said.

Snape nodded blandly.

“Good.  We will try to keep an eye on him during mealtimes to see if any other concerning behavior is shown.”  After McGonagall and Snape left his office, the headmaster leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtfully out the window.

-0-

Hmm, what fortuitous timing, Dumbledore thought later.

He had been taking a walk around the castle, enjoying the after-dinner feeling.  The school felt different at different times of the day.  The morning had an energy that was brisk and almost frenetic during the school week, a more relaxed and lethargic energy on the weekends or holidays.  Noontime was bustling with everyone going to the Great Hall for lunch.  Afternoons were quieter due to classes and the time during dinner was busy once more with people enjoying their evening meal or going to the library or clubs.  As curfew approached, the atmosphere was lower and quiet, heralding the dark and sleep.

Dumbledore had heard footsteps descending the staircase leading up to the Owlery and had paused.  Most people did not go to the Owlery this late in the day unless they needed to send a last-minute post or package.  When he saw who came walking out of the stairwell and into the hall, he turned and smiled genially.  “Good evening, Mister Potter.”

Harry almost jumped.  He had been lost in thought while walking and had not realized Dumbledore was there.  “Oh!  Hello Headmaster Dumbledore, Sir,” he said nervously.

“Do relax,” Dumbledore chuckled.  “You are not in trouble.”

“Yes Sir,” Harry said, relaxing a fraction.

“Last minute post?”

“No Sir.  I was visiting Hedwig.  Hagrid gave her to me when we were at Diagon and I like to visit her.”

“Ah yes, Hagrid mentioned that.  He said she was a beautiful snowy owl and quite taken with you.”

Harry smiled bashfully.  “She’s the best.”

Dumbledore nodded, looking at Harry thoughtfully.  “And how have you found your first week here at Hogwarts, if I may ask?”

“I like it, Sir,” Harry said with a little hesitation.  “Magic is cool and really interesting.”

The headmaster had noticed the hesitation.  “Magic is indeed very cool,” he said, smiling at Harry’s look.  “I am much older than you and I still delight in all the possibilities magic provides.  Why just the other day I learned a new spell that warms your socks before you put them on.  Makes all the difference in the morning and I imagine it will be even more invaluable when winter comes.”

He enjoyed Harry’s laugh.  When the boy had first descended the staircase, he had been very reserved and nervous, understandably of course.  However, with just a little relaxing, the boy seemed to change entirely.  “Is there something I can do for you, Mister Potter?”

Harry shook his head.

“Anything at all?” Dumbledore pressed.  “If it is not too unreasonable, it will be considered.”

After thinking for a few moments, Harry took a deep breath.  “Could…could I visit the kitchens?  I would like to see them and see who makes all the food.  It’s wonderful but it tastes so different and I’d like to know more.  I also would like to make something if I could.” 

Dumbledore hummed softly.  “I heard that you like to cook,” he said at last.

Harry nodded, wondering where Dumbledore had heard that.  Then he remembered the Potions class from earlier, flushing at the memory of what happened after.

Dumbledore looked thoughtful.  “Very well.  Follow me.  Let us see what we can do.  Typically students are not allowed in the kitchens, but it has been known to happen.”  He walked off briskly and Harry rushed to catch up.  Dumbledore led him down a few staircases that had stopped moving when the headmaster approached them.  “A benefit of being Headmaster,” he said to Harry.  “The staircases usually lead me to where I want to go.”

They finally reached a broad hallway in the depths of the castle.  Lanterns shone along the walls, bathing the stone with warm golden light.  A very large painting of a bowl of fruit hung on the wall at the end of the hall and Dumbledore reached up and tickled the pear.  The painting moved, much like the painting that housed the entrance into Gryffindor Tower.

Harry gasped with delight as he followed the headmaster into the kitchens.  The space was enormous.  The stones of the floor and the wall and the ceiling were so clean, they gleamed in the lantern light.  Four long tables sat in the center of the big room, mirroring the position of the House tables in the Great Hall above.  Stoves were lined up against the one wall, running the length of the room.  Preparation tables dotted the space and gigantic ovens were sunk into the adjacent wall.  Racks and racks of cooking utensils and implements ran the length of the opposite wall and a vast sink system was in the corner.  Water moved and brushes and rags danced as things were cleaned and dried and stored away.

“Welcome to the Kitchens of Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said, seeing Harry’s look of awe and wonder.  “And meet the many cooks that provide all of our meals.  They are House Elves, magical beings that serve the castle and help take care of us all.  They clean and cook and do all sorts of things.”

Scores of diminutive figures worked industriously in the kitchens.  They were dressed in clean towels folded into togas.  When Dumbledore and Harry first appeared, they had greeted them but at Dumbledore’s wave, had gone back to work.  Large round eyes watched them curiously however, and their large ears flapped and moved with them. 

“Inky, are you free?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes Headmaster!”  A small House Elf appeared before them.  She smoothed dark brown hair back and bobbed her head at Dumbledore and Harry.  “How can Inky help?”

“Inky, this is Harry Potter.  Mister Potter, this is Inky.  She is one of the main Elves here in the kitchen and she always makes sure to give me extra jam and cream for tea time,” Dumbledore smiled.

“Headmaster has a terrible sweet tooth,” Inky said with a mock-weary smile.

“Quite,” Dumbledore chuckled.  “Mister Potter used to cook at home and would like to make something.”

“Really?”  Inky looked at Harry curiously.  “Cooking at your age?”

Harry nodded.  “I learned when I was little and cooked a lot.”

“You are still little,” Inky said flatly and shook her head which Harry found odd considering he was taller and bigger than her.  “But Inky will help.  What does Mister Potter want?”

“I’d like a stove please,” Harry said after some thought.  “I’d love to make an omelet.  I haven’t cooked in so long and it’s one of my favorite things.  Eggs, butter, salt, white pepper if you have it.”

“That is easy.”  Inky led them to a small alcove and she soon had a table waiting with ingredients on it and a stove at the ready.  She climbed up a stool and sat on it.  “Inky has never seen a wizardling cook before.”

“I hope you do not mind an audience,” Dumbledore said, sitting on a stool as well.

Harry shook his head.  “Not at all.  Thank you, Sir, and Inky.”  He took a deep breath and let it out smoothly before starting.  In no time at all he had things arranged on the tabletop to his liking.  The hob was turned on and a pan was warming over the open flame.  He cracked three eggs into a mixing bowl and started beating them.

Dumbledore leaned forward, interested.  Harry had transformed right in front of him.  Gone was the shy boy, the clear reservation.  This Harry moved with purpose, his motions crisp and thoughtful.  He beat the eggs until it was completely homogenous, not a trace of white could be seen.  A sprinkle of salt and white pepper went into the beaten egg and he swirled the mixture around for a few more moments.  A knob of butter was placed into the heated pan and he waited for the butter to melt.  As soon as the butter was melted and the bit of foam was gone, he poured the golden mixture into the pan.

He turned the heat to low and gently swirled the pan around, coating the entire pan with the egg mixture.  Then he gently started to stir the eggs around, never ceasing and using smooth motions.  He hummed softly, eyes focused on the pan, not noticing how Dumbledore and Inky watched with equal fascination.  As soon as the eggs set in the pan, he started to roll them.  He rolled the edge of the omelet over and lifted the pan and held it at an angle, using gravity as well as the fork to roll the egg into a long cylindrical shape.  Finally, he lifted the omelet out and put it on a plate.

Dumbledore blinked.  It smelled incredible; a savory scent underscored with butter.  The omelet was uniform in shape and color, not a hint of brown in the golden hue.  He blinked once more when Harry pushed the plate over to him.  “For me?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes Sir.  For letting me cook, since students aren’t normally allowed in the kitchens.”  He began to beat another three eggs in the bowl, returning the pan to the heat.

“Well, if you insist.  Thank you very much, Mister Potter.”  Dumbledore picked up a fork and cut the end of the omelet, marveling at the soft even texture.  The egg held its shape well but the fork went through it easily, barely any resistance met.  When he ate that bite of omelet however, he paused.  The insides of the omelet were soft and smooth, almost creamy like custard.  He could taste a pure egg flavor, accented with butter, flavored with salt and pepper.  It fell apart easily as he chewed and his eyes opened wide when he swallowed.

“This is incredible,” he praised, surprise and wonder in his voice.  “What a wonderful French omelet!”

Harry’s eyes opened with surprise.  “Thank you, Sir,” Harry beamed.  “I’m pretty good at making them, I’ve practiced a lot.”

“Pretty good?  Amazing I would say,” Dumbledore said as he ate more.  “I have been to France and have more than a few made by chefs and this ranks up there.”

Harry ducked his head, a shy but proud smile on his lips as he made another.

Inky had stared at Dumbledore with undisguised envy as he ate, but the expression melted clean away when the next omelet was placed before her.  “This is for Inky?” she gasped, her eyes popping wide as she goggled at Harry.

“If you like,” he said.  “I’m sorry, I’ve never met House Elves before today.  Do you eat?”

“We do!  Thank you!”  Inky did not hold back and she ate a very large bite.  “Mmm!  Very good!”

Dumbledore noticed that Harry stood there with a small and satisfied smile.  “Surely you will make yourself one,” he remarked.

“Oh!  Uh, yes Sir,” Harry said, startled.  “May I make something else too?  It’ll take longer and I don’t know how much longer I can stay.  I think it’s close to curfew.”

“You are punished if you are out after curfew if you have no reason or are unaccompanied.  Fortunately, you have reason and are with me,” Dumbledore said kindly.  “What else would you like to make?”

“Biscuits.”

“Then go right ahead,” Dumbledore said.  “On two conditions.  You are to make an omelet for yourself and enjoy it and that I receive some of the biscuits as well.”  Harry’s smile made him smile and he watched as Inky eagerly gathered the necessary biscuit ingredients.  He slowly finished his omelet, chewing thoughtfully.  “You are quite comfortable in the kitchen.”

“Yes Sir.  It was one of my first chores and after I got good at it, it became my main one.”  Harry beat the butter and sugar together industriously. 

“Do you enjoy cooking?” Dumbledore asked mildly.

Harry nodded.  “I love it now,” he said as he rubbed the creamed butter and sugar between thumb and pointer finger.  “At first I didn’t, but I came to really like it,” he added off-handedly.  Then he realized what he said and looked away.

Dumbledore filed the information away to be ruminated over later.  “So you cook a lot when you are back at home?” 

“Yes Sir.  Like I said, it became my main chore and my…aunt and uncle like to entertain so I cooked for their parties and dinners.”

Dumbledore waited for Harry to finish mixing eggs and flour and vanilla into the creamed butter and sugar.  Once mixed, Harry added the chocolate chips and rolled out individual biscuits and laid them out onto the baking sheets.  After putting them into the oven, Harry went back to the stove and made himself an omelet.

“What do you like to cook?” Dumbledore asked. 

“Mostly British food aside from the omelet and a few other things,” Harry said.  “The Dursleys aren’t too fond of foreign cookery but I’d love to try other things one day.”

“I’m sure you will and have faith that you will do them justice,” Dumbledore said sincerely.  He did not say more, waiting for Harry to finish cooking and eating his own meal, noticing that Harry stood slightly apart when he did, not sitting with him or Inky.  He frowned at that, once again filing the detail away.

His frown disappeared entirely when Harry pulled the baking sheets out of the oven.  The biscuits smelled wonderfully, rich in sugar and chocolate and vanilla.  They evoked a sense of warmth, a comfort that started deep inside.  When Dumbledore bit into one, he reflexively caught the crumbs that fell, smiling with delight.  “Delicious,” he said.  “Simply wonderful.”

“Agreed!”  Inky fairly gobbled her biscuit and another followed soon after.  “Mister Potter is very good cook!”

“Thank you,” Harry said with that small but proud smile.  “You can share these with any of the other House Elves that want one,” he said, pushing a tray over.  The boy’s smile grew at Inky’s delight and at the other House Elves that drifted over.

Another detail to be remembered, but at least a more pleasant one.  Dumbledore accepted a small handful of biscuits for himself.  “I wish I could take more but Madame Pomfrey may fuss at me,” he said with a mischievous smile.  He grew solemn.  “Perhaps we can arrange for you to cook more at another time.”

Harry nodded emphatically.  “Yes Sir.  And thank you again for letting me do this.  I’ve missed it a lot.”

“You are welcome.”  He wrapped up the remaining biscuits and tapped the packaging with his wand.  “Another handy spell to keep things fresher for longer,” he said. 

“I love magic,” Harry grinned.

“As do I,” Dumbledore said with a matching grin.  “Now, let us get you back to your tower or else Professor McGonagall will fuss at me as well.”

“Thank you, Mister Potter!” Inky said through a full mouth and a few of the other House Elves joined her with their thanks.  “Hope to see you soon!”

“You’re welcome!  You can call me Harry though, it’s odd when you call me Mister Potter.”  Harry waved happily and despite the many stairs back up to the tower, the trip felt short.  After bidding Dumbledore good night, Harry went to his dorm room and not even the look from Seamus could ruin his good mood.  He put the wrapped biscuits away in his trunk and got ready for bed, feeling the best he had ever since arriving at Hogwarts.

-0-

“Inky, a moment please.”

A small crack heralded Inky’s appearance.  “Yes Headmaster?”

Dumbledore sat at his desk and looked at the House Elf.  “Mister Potter’s cooking was quite delicious.”

“Yes Headmaster.”  Her ears flapped as she nodded emphatically.  “Very good!”

“I would not expect someone so young to be so accomplished,” he mused softly.

“Inky has never met a wizardling or witchling that could cook like that,” she said.  She looked pensive.  “Not many older magicals can cook like that either.”

“That is what I thought as well,” Dumbledore said.  “A French omelet is rarer here, but we have had omelets plenty of times.  Biscuits as well.  But there is something different with his, however.”

“Inky agrees.”  She shrugged.  “Not many magicals are so willing to cook for House Elves either,” she said pointedly.

“No, they are not,” Dumbledore agreed.  “He seems used to cooking for others.”

“Inky heard.”  She frowned.  “Inky does not like what that means.”

“I find myself curious about that as well,” Dumbledore admitted.  “I hope to learn more in time.  Thank you, Inky.”

She curtsied slightly.  “Mister Harry is very kind,” she said and popped away.

“Yes, yes he is,” Dumbledore said softly to himself.  He looked at the stand beside his desk, at his phoenix Fawkes noisily enjoying a biscuit.  His companion had looked at the small stack of biscuits with undisguised want and had gleefully taken one when offered.  The magical animal chomped on the treat with obvious pleasure.

“Talented, and very kind,” Dumbledore repeated.  He bit into another biscuit and looked out over the moonlit waters of the Black Lake.  He chewed slowly, savoring the baked treat.  He managed to save the rest and continued to look out over the grounds, lost in thought. 

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

2^nd Course – Settling In

“Uhm, hi.”

Harry looked up.  He was in the library doing his homework.  The common room was a little too loud to comfortably do work and he was eager to avoid the looks from the other Gryffindors.  What he did in Potions had gotten around and while no one had said anything outright to him, he still garnered more attention than he wanted.  He was currently finishing an essay when someone spoke to him. 

He looked around for a moment, wondering if the girl had meant to talk to him.  Seeing no one else close by, he looked back at her.  “Hello,” he said shyly.

Lavender stood there, fidgeting a little.  It had taken her a few moments to gather the courage to come talk to Harry.  The incident from the other day did not sit well with her and when she saw him sitting alone in the library, she had decided she needed to do something.  She coughed awkwardly.  “I’m sorry,” she said at last.

Harry looked confused.  “What for?”

“I should have said something, the other day,” she said.  “When the other boys were being rude to you.”

“Oh.”  Harry rubbed his neck.  “It wasn’t your fault, it’s not like you joined Seamus or anything.”

“No, but it wasn’t right what he said either,” she said.  “It was really rude.”

“Yeah, it was,” Harry sighed.  “But I’m used to it really.”

“Oh, that’s not right either,” she replied weakly.

“Like I said, I’m used to it,” he replied just as weakly.

They looked away from another in shared awkwardness.

“I…I know what it’s like,” she said all of a sudden.  “To be picked on for something like that.”

“You do?” he asked, looking at her directly.

Lavender nodded, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.  “Yeah.  Especially for something you can’t really control.”

“That’s not right either,” he repeated quietly.

She smiled shyly.  “Are you working on your Potions essay?  Do you mind helping me?  I don’t really get it.”

“Sure.”  Harry blinked when she sat beside him eagerly. 

“Thank you,” she sighed with relief.  “I don’t understand the differences in the potions instructions and Professor Snape is really intimidating.”

“Yeah he is,” Harry said, agreeing completely.  “I don’t think he likes me.”

“I don’t think he likes anyone,” Lavender whispered.  “I heard he’s only nice to people in Slytherin.”

“That’s not right,” Harry said with Lavender echoing him.  They smiled at each other and after some giggling, started working together.

“Thank you so much,” Lavender sighed when they finished the essay.  “I get it more now.  You’re good at potions.”

“It’s like cooking, following a recipe,” Harry said with pink cheeks.  “I hope to get better the more I learn though.  It’s kinda interesting.”

“So you really do cook?” Lavender asked.

He nodded.  “When I can.”

“What do you cook?”

“Oh lots of things I think, mostly British things.  I like to bake too, especially biscuits.”

“I wish I had some biscuits,” Lavender sighed wistfully.  “Those sound good right now.”  She saw Harry look about.  “What’s wrong?”

“Well, uhm, nothing but don’t tell anyone.  Since you’ve been nice to me…” he pulled out a small wrapped package from his school bag.

“You have some biscuits?!” Lavender asked excitedly, seeing them.

“Shh!” he shushed, looking around again.  “I actually got the chance to make these the other day.”

“Really?  How?” Lavender whispered.

“I’m not allowed to really say.  Headmaster,” he said apologetically.

“Oh, I see,” she said, frowning.  The frown went away when Harry held out a few to her.  “I can have some?” 

“If you like,” he said shyly.

“Yes please!”  She happily accepted them and wasted no time in popping one into her mouth.  Her eyes opened wide as she chewed it hungrily.  “Wow!  This is so good!  It tastes like you just made them!”

“The Headmaster cast a charm on the wrapping to keep them fresher longer,” Harry said.  “Isn’t that cool?”

“Yeah!”  Lavender nibbled on the second one, taking small bites to make it last longer.  “These are really good!  Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry said, looking embarrassed and pleased.

Lavender looked at the last one in her hand.  “I want to eat it now but I want to save it too,” she sighed.

“You can have more,” Harry said. 

Lavender beamed at him.  “Thank you, Harry.  You’re really nice.”

“So are you,” he said softly, almost unheard.

-0-

“Really?” Parvati asked.

“If it’s okay with you,” Lavender said.  “He’s really nice actually.”

“If you say so,” Parvati said hesitantly.

“He helped me with the essay and so I could help you.  And he’s fine really.  Much nicer than the other boys,” she insisted.

“Okay, if you say so,” Parvati repeated.

“Hey Harry,” Lavender said out loud.  “Want to walk with us to Herbology?”

Harry looked up; surprise written clearly on his face.  “Me?”

Lavender smiled.  “Yes you.  Are there any other Harrys?”

“I don’t think so,” he said with a small smile.  “Sure, thank you.”

“Harry, meet Parvati.  She’s my best friend.”

Parvati rolled her eyes a little.  “I was your only friend,” she teased back. 

“Well now I have another and so do you and you’re the best one so far,” Lavender giggled.  “Sorry Harry.”

Harry grinned shyly.  “No problems.  I’m happy to have a friend.  And hopefully another.”

Parvati giggled.  “I guess I can have another friend.” 

The three of them walked out of the castle and onto the grounds.  Lavender and Parvati chatted about something they read out of a magazine together and Harry showed polite interest but did not interject, content to be walking with them.  They reached the greenhouses and stood off to one side waiting for the ones within to leave.

“Hey Potter!”

Harry turned and sputtered as a mass of green leaves and wet soil hit him in the face.  He spat and rubbed his mouth, trying to clear away the taste of earth and damp vegetation while people laughed at him.

Draco Malfoy looked smugly proud of himself, wiping his hands clean on his outer-robes.  “Since you like eating plants so much, thought I’d help.”  Two hulking boys beside him laughed along with him, as well as a hard-faced girl with dark hair.

Harry glared back at Draco, face red.  It was not just the Slytherins laughing at him.  He could tell others had enjoyed the action too.  “Thanks Malfoy,” Harry said at last.  “Didn’t taste very good though so no need to offer again in the future.”

Snickers and more laughter greeted the retort and Draco stopped laughing, his eyes narrowing as the attention shifted.  “I didn’t know starving dogs could be so choosy,” he sneered and laughed uproariously as a boy in green barked loudly.

Harry ground his teeth.  “You’re looking a little starved yourself.  Maybe you’d enjoy a salad.  Get some color.”

Malfoy’s pale thin features reddened as others laughed at the reply, with Lavender laughing hardest of all.  He opened his mouth but Pomona Sprout, Head of Hufflepuff and Herbology professor, walked out of the greenhouse, her eyes focusing on the scene before her.  “What happened here?” she asked, seeing the mass of leaves and soil on the ground, at Harry’s stained face.

“Someone got a little hungry,” Draco said snidely.  “Wanted to know how the weeds taste.”

“Not too good.  Must be how they were prepared,” Harry said back.

“Off you go,” Sprout said firmly, cutting Draco off.  “Don’t you lot have another class to get to?”  She waited for the Slytherins and Ravenclaw students to leave.  “Is everything okay, Mister Potter?” she asked kindly.

He finished wiping his face clean.  “Yes Ma’am,” he said. 

“If you say so.”  She flicked her wand and the pile of dirt and leaves and things on the ground were sent into a large compost pile beside the greenhouse.  “Alright then, let’s get class underway, shall we?”

-0-

“Why didn’t you say anything to the Professor?” Parvati asked later as they left the greenhouse.

Harry shrugged.  “Draco’s been like that to me since we met.  I have a feeling no matter what I do, it won’t get better.  Worse, more likely.”

“He’s a jerk,” Lavender sniffed.

“So are some of the others,” Parvati said, giving some others a dark look.

He shrugged again.  “Whatever.”  After a moment he spoke softly, “Thanks for standing up for me though, laughing for me.”

“What are friends for?” Lavender asked airily. 

“Yeah,” Parvati agreed.

-0-

“What an idiot,” Lavender said with glee.  She, Harry, Parvati, and more than a few others watched with satisfaction as Draco was shouted at by an irate Madame Rolanda Hooch.  The flying instructor was currently taking Draco to task and the boy was being buried by the deluge of her scolding.

The Gryffindors and the Slytherins were meeting for their first flying class and it had started off in a spectacular disaster with Neville falling off his broom and breaking a wrist.  Hooch took him to the Medical Wing, leaving the rest of the students with dire warnings of what would happen if she caught them in the air without her being there.

Draco clearly thought little of her warnings, taking Neville’s Remembrall while mocking the poor boy.  He had tried to goad several people into trying to take it back, including Harry.  Harry had nearly fallen for the taunts and while he was fine with ignoring Hermione saying that it was against the rules, stopped when Lavender and Parvati said how much trouble he would receive if caught and that it was not worth it.

Thankfully, that moment of indecision saved him and Hooch had come back out and saw Draco flying up in the air on his broom, tossing the Remembrall up and down.  He had no way to talk himself out of the predicament, caught clearly and cleanly.

After some severe scolding, Hooch literally grounded Draco, making him sit out on the ground with a promise to stick him to the ground literally if he moved.  The rest of the students resumed their flying lesson.

“You’re good at flying,” Parvati said as they flew about.

“Really?” Harry asked.

She nodded.  “I have cousins who are big into Quidditch and flying and you look like you’ve been doing it forever.”

“What’s Quidditch?” Harry asked.

“A wizarding sport,” Parvati said. “It’s played on broomsticks.  Every House has a team.  And there’s a school League and a huge League in the Wizarding World and all over the world.”

“Huh.  Guess I’ll pay attention to it when the games happen here,” Harry said.  “I think I like flying.  It’s fun.”

“I think it’s kinda scary,” Lavender laughed as she flew very slowly.

-0-

Deep in the foundations of the castle, where the Slytherin common room and dormitories were, a girl looked up when the door opened.  She frowned slightly, looking concerned at the hard-faced girl with dark hair that walked in.  She waited for a few moments, waited for the door to their dorm room to close completely, and waited for the other girl to say something.  She continued to wait while the second girl fell onto her bed, face down. 

“What’s wrong Pansy?” Millicent Bulstrode asked.

“Nothing,” Pansy Parkinson muttered, voice muffled by her pillow.

“If you say so,” Millicent said, unconvinced.  She waited for a few moments before sitting beside Pansy on her bed.  “Come on, you can tell me.”

“He’s so mean,” Pansy whispered.

“Ah.”  Millicent rubbed Pansy’s back gently.

“Why is he so mean?” Pansy whimpered.

Millicent said nothing for a while.  “What did he do this time?”

Pansy rolled over, scrubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand.  “He said it was my fault he got in trouble today.”

“Well that’s just wrong,” Millicent huffed.  “You didn’t tell him to fly when he shouldn’t have.  You told him not to, if I remember right.”

“He said I didn’t try hard enough to stop him,” Pansy said angrily.  “How is that my fault?  It’s not fair!  And he keeps going on and on about Potter!” 

“I don’t get his obsession with Potter either,” Millicent snorted.  “I think he’s got a crush.”

“Bite your tongue!” Pansy shouted.  She softened at Millicent’s grin, her anger slowly dissolving.  “You could get into a lot of trouble saying stuff like that about him.”

The bigger girl shrugged.  “I don’t care, not really.  He’ll stomp his foot and say nasty things back and that’ll be it.  I don’t care what he thinks of me.  I know how he feels and thinks about me.”

“He’s been nicer to you,” Pansy said weakly.

“Only because of you,” Millicent snorted.  “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate you sticking up for me.  But he’s always not liked me.”

“It’s not fair,” Pansy repeated wanly.

“Nope.  It’s not like I want to be bigger than him, though I admit it’s nice because he can’t push me around.”  They lapsed into silence.

“I thought it would be better,” Pansy whispered.  “I thought once we started school together, he’d be better.  Like he was before.”  She saw Millicent roll her eyes.  “I did!  He used to be really nice to me, really sweet.”

“I don’t doubt he was, to you,” Millicent said slowly.  “But he’s always been rude to me.  I only went to Malfoy Manor because my parents did or for you.”  She patted Pansy’s back some more.  “But you’re right, he was really nice to you when we were younger.”

“I really thought it would be like that again,” Pansy sighed.  “But he’s always biting at me when he’s upset now.”  She growled.  “When he isn’t, he’s mooning over the other girls, trying to act like his father.”

Millicent snickered.  “It’s really funny when the older girls ignore him like the firstie he is.”

Pansy fought the smile away.  After a half-hearted giggle, she faded back into misery.  “It’s not my fault, is it?”

“No, it isn’t,” Millicent said firmly.  “He’s being a prat and blaming you because he can.  You shouldn’t take it.”

Pansy did not say anything.

“You don’t deserve it,” Millicent repeated firmly.  “You really don’t.  Just ignore him.”

“I’ll try,” Pansy said, not meaning it at all.

“That’s good,” Millicent sighed, knowing Pansy did not mean it but believing the lie anyway. 

“Thanks, Millie,” Pansy said, hugging Millicent about the middle.  “Thanks for listening and for being here for me.”

“What’re friends for?” Millicent replied and hugged her back.  “Let’s eat some chocolate and do some homework, get that done and we can play some exploding snap after.  Sound good?”

“I guess so,” Pansy said.

-0-

“Wow, you really cut these really thin,” Lavender said, admiring Harry’s sliced ginger root.

“It’s a julienne cut,” Harry explained.  “And you can get really uniform pieces if you make thin planks of the ginger first.  Like this.”  He showed Lavender and Parvati how to square the ginger first, trimming the root into an even rectangle and slicing them thinly width-wise before cutting long thin pieces.

“Huh, you know, I think my mum tried to teach me this once,” Parvati remarked.

“For Potions?” Lavender asked.

“No, for cooking,” Parvati said.  “I didn’t pay attention ‘cause I don’t care to cook much but now I wish I did.  Though she didn’t do it as neatly as this.”

“How did you learn to cut things?” Lavender asked.

“I was lucky to have a couple of cookbooks and one of them taught knife cuts,” Harry said as he continued to work on his potion materials.  “The few times I was allowed to watch the telly were cooking shows too.”  So engrossed in his work, he missed the look Lavender and Parvati exchanged.

“It’s actually really interesting that potion prepping is a lot like cooking knife cuts,” Harry continued.  “I noticed that when I was reading the book before school started.”

“Gosh, I need to introduce you to my sister.  She read the textbooks before school started too,” Parvati laughed.  “Maybe you should have gotten into Ravenclaw too.”

“I only read the Potions one,” Harry laughed.  “It interested me the most ‘cause, well you know.”

“You really like to think about cooking and stuff,” Lavender said gently, remembering how it was said another way at another time.

Harry smiled gratefully, catching the change in tone and meaning.  “Yeah, it’s fun.”

They continued to work together, checking the instructions on the board and reading the related material in the textbooks.  “Oh wait,” Parvati said, “I think we need to add the daisy petals before the rose petals.”

“Oh you’re right, thanks,” Harry said after he rechecked the instructions.

“Shouldn’t you be better at following a recipe?” Lavender teased.

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Harry laughed.  “One time when I was younger I completely skipped a step and forgot to cook out the flour in a gravy.  It came out lumpy and tasted like flour, it was pretty bad.”

“Aww, what did you do after?” Lavender asked.

“I had to remake it so the Dursleys had proper gravy and then I had to eat all of the gravy I messed up.”  He shrugged but once again missed the look the girls gave each other.  “Lesson learned though.  Some steps you can’t skip or mix up.”

“Well at least this potion doesn’t look lumpy,” Lavender said with a smile.

“It does look flowery though, with the petals,” Parvati said.  She giggled mightily while Lavender groaned and Harry joined her merriment.

-0-

Two sets of eyes watched the trio.

Snape split his attention between the rest of the class and with them.  He was still having trouble coming to terms with Harry’s presence.  He looked so much like his father and Snape loathed James Potter.  Harry also had his mother’s eyes and Snape had very complicated feelings around Lily Potter nee Evans.  He very much wanted to make Harry suffer like how James made him suffer when they were students at Hogwarts.

Unfortunately, Harry seemed to actually like Potions and that was confusing to Snape.  Lily had been very good at Potions so perhaps it was a hereditary trait.  Snape wanted to find fault in Harry’s work, in his demeanor.  He had carefully chosen three questions to humiliate Harry that first class, questions the boy should not have known.  Yet Harry had answered two of them correctly and despite the coldness that Snape exuded, the boy had continued to pay attention in class, complete his homework well, and brew perfectly acceptable potions.

Snape had been livid when Harry compared Potions to cooking, but one cannot deny that Harry was decent at the art, and thus Snape was developing some very complicated feelings around Harry as well.

Perhaps that was another hereditary trait.

Draco was seething.  It was not fair to his mind.  He should be the one standing out, he should be the favorite.  Yet Snape seemed to pay more attention to Harry and it was not wholly negative.  True, Harry had yet to earn any points, despite answering things correctly or doing well.  True, Draco had earned points for his talent and skills.  Yet Harry was not being beaten down here when Draco had counted on it.  It nettled him.

The initial meeting on the Hogwarts Express still rankled him.  He had pushed his way into the compartment, ready to prove how much Harry needed Draco.  He was ready to take Harry in, to teach him how things were done.  Yet the boy had not laughed at the insult Draco threw at Ron, had ignored his offer to replace the plebian sandwich that he was eating, and refused Draco’s obviously superior friendship.  The only highlight from that disastrous encounter was that it appeared Harry was not close to Ron either.

Worst of all, he liked cooking.  Only House Elves and pathetic magicals that could not do anything else cooked.  It was one of the lowest “professions” in the British Wizarding World and Harry said it out loud that he liked cooking?  Draco ground his teeth.  He would make Harry suffer for ignoring his friendship and spitting on what a proper magical should be.

“What, Pansy?!” he hissed when she tugged on his sleeve again.

“Your fire is too high,” she hissed back, pointing at his bubbling cauldron.  “It’s about to boil over.”

“Then why didn’t you just fix it!”  He irritably tapped the stand with his wand and the fire reduced in size and intensity.

“I’m trying to help you,” she whispered angrily, hurt.

“Next time just do it instead of try to help me do it,” Draco retorted and turned in his seat, ignoring her.

Pansy looked down at the table, trying to fight the tears from building in her eyes.  She knew proper Pureblood girls did not cry in public, it was unseemly and unbecoming.  Being snapped at like that, when she was only trying to help, hurt her though and it was hard to keep the tears from falling. 

Not for the first time, she wondered what had happened.  She and Draco used to be incredibly close, used to be very good friends.  As they got older, especially the last year, he had slowly changed.  He was no longer as kind as he was, as playful and pleasant.  He was turning more like into his idol, his father. 

Pansy had hoped that when they started Hogwarts together, he would treat her better, like he used to.  If anything, he was becoming worse.  He wanted to be friends with the other older students, prove his worth and superiority.  He was cold and biting to her and it was getting worse.

She looked at Harry and Lavender and Parvati angrily.  Harry had been corrected by Parvati and he had not snapped at her.  He had taken Lavender’s teasing without any anger, had not said anything cruel back.  They were working together and it looked like they were having fun. 

“It’s not fair,” she thought, tearing her flower petals apart violently.  She shot the trio of Gryffindors another angry look.  If she was being honest, there was something else mixed in with the anger.  Nothing she wanted to admit to, however.

Not right now anyways, and certainly not out loud.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

3^rd Course – Going Clubbing

“There are so many clubs,” Lavender said, staring up at a large board that hung in the foyer of the castle.  The board was covered in parchment flyers and notices.  Usually, it was a place where school-wide announcements could be seen as well as a calendar for events and the like.  There was also a portion dedicated to school clubs and organizations.

Everyone was encouraged to join or attend at least one club or organization though it was not mandatory.  Also, failing marks could result in a student being denied extracurricular activities by their Head of House.  It was a way for students from different Houses to interact outside of classes and find new things they enjoyed.

“I don’t even know what a lot of these things are,” Harry said.  “What are gobstones?”

“It’s a game, like marbles.  But when you lose a point they squirt gob juice into your face,” Lavender explained.

“That sounds really gross,” Harry shuddered.

“It is pretty gross,” she agreed.

“What’s gob juice?” he could not help but ask.

“I don’t know and I don’t know if I want to know,” she said with a moue of disgust.  “Any clubs you are thinking about?”

“I think I’ll join the Flying club.  I like flying.  It’ll be fun to just get to do that.”  He looked at her.  “What about you?  I know you don’t like flying and I’d like to be in a club with you.”

Lavender smiled.  “I’d like that too.  Parvati and I are joining the Astrology club.  Stars and things like that.  Are you interested in that?”  She looked at the board after seeing his head shake.  “Hmm, let’s see if we can find something else then.  I think I can handle two clubs too.”

After looking up and down the board, Harry eventually realized that someone was standing beside him.  “Oh!  Hello Headmaster.”

Dumbledore looked down and smiled warmly at Harry.  “Hello Mister Potter, and hello to you too Miss Brown.”

Lavender gulped a little.  “Hello Headmaster,” she replied.

“I enjoy this time of year,” Dumbledore said, looking back at the board.  “I always like seeing what clubs are available and if any strike my fancy.”

“Do the professors join clubs too?” Harry asked.

“If time allows,” Dumbledore said.  “I still pop into the Transfiguration club here and there.  I used to teach the class, you see, back before I became Headmaster.”  He looked crest-fallen for a moment.  “I was hoping the Muggle Literature club would return.  I do enjoy reading how Muggles portray magic.  Have you two picked clubs to join?”

“Yes Sir,” Harry said.  “Lavender is joining astrology and I’m joining flying.”

“A fine choice, the both of them.  Astrology club will help enhance your understanding for the class and it can relate to other courses.  And flying is fun of course.  Your father was quite the flyer in his day.”

“Really?”  Harry’s eyes opened wide at the information.

“Really.  He was a member of Gryffindor’s Quidditch team.  Perhaps something to consider for the future if you are so inclined,” Dumbledore said warmly.

“Wow,” Harry said softly.  He shook his head a little.  “Is there a cooking club or something like that?”

Dumbledore shook his head.  “Unfortunately not.  Cooking is not something many of the magicals here ever focused on sadly.”  He hummed in thought.  “Miss Brown, what other pursuits do you enjoy?”

Lavender flushed a little.  “Oh, uhm, I don’t know…”

“You can say it,” Harry said encouragingly.  “The Headmaster is nice.”

Dumbledore beamed at that.

“I like sewing,” Lavender said at last.  “Making pretty things and clothes and stuff like that.”

“That is an excellent hobby to have,” Dumbledore said.  “Sadly there has not been a club for that in quite some time.  That being said, I think I have a solution for the both of you.”  He pointed at a parchment sheet in the far corner.

“Household Charms?” Harry read.

“Indeed.  It has not been as popular as of late but I have always thought that charms and spells for the home have been overlooked.  They are simpler and most are taught by their parents but you can always learn a new one to make things better for yourself.  I am sure you can learn lots of things suited for both your interests.”

“That sounds like fun, what do you think?” Harry asked.

“I like it,” Lavender said.  “Sounds good to me.”

“Thank you, Headmaster,” they said.

“You are quite welcome,” Dumbledore replied.

-0-

“You don’t think he was messing with us, do you?” Lavender asked.

A few days later, Harry and Lavender had gone to the classroom that the Household Charms parchment listed.  They were the only ones there and had sat there for a few minutes without anyone else arriving.

“I don’t think so,” Harry said slowly.  “Did we get the time and date wrong?”

Lavender looked in her calendar book.  “No, we didn’t.”

“I guess it got cancelled and we didn’t know,” Harry said.  “Sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Lavender said.  “I guess we can go and try to find another one.”  The sound of running feet made them pause and they looked at the door.

“Wait!  Wait!”  Filius Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw and Charms professor came dashing in.  “I’m terribly sorry,” he said, wheezing and holding his side.  “I do apologize for my tardiness!”

“It’s okay,” Harry said, sharing an amused glance with Lavender.  “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Flitwick said, still gasping for breath.  “This is the first time I have had anyone show interest in Household Charms in years!  I had thought no one signed up and did not think to check the sheet.  I was in my office when the Headmaster asked if you two had changed your mind and once I realized you did sign up, came running!” 

He rose to his full height, which was not much.  He was shorter than either of the first year students but he seemed to have more energy than both of them put together.  Once recovered from his run, he was bouncing on his feet with glee.  “I think I’ll allow you each one free tardy excuse to my class in the future to make up for mine today.”

“That sounds good, Sir,” Harry smiled and Lavender giggled in agreement.

“Splendid!  Now, in the past I had a loose syllabus of what I hoped to go over and learn together for this club but since you two are the only members, I rather know what you are hoping to learn and go from there.”  He looked at them expectantly.

“Well, I like to cook,” Harry said.  “And I was hoping to learn spells and charms that would help with cooking.”

“And I like to sew,” Lavender said.  “I’d like to learn spells that would be good for making things like that.”

“Very good!  That sounds like a lot of fun,” Flitwick gushed.

“Do you know spells for those things?” Harry asked, impressed.

“Not really!”

The two students looked at each other in confusion.

Flitwick’s smile was broad and infectious.  “That means I get to learn with you!  I do know a few charms that could be used of course in either realm but I don’t know any specific spells but that’s half the fun of the club, we get to learn together.”

“I thought professors knew everything,” Lavender said slowly and shyly.

“Allow me to let you in on a very deep secret,” Flitwick said, his merry features becoming solemn.  “Professors do not know everything.”  His smile reappeared.  “We know a lot and are happy to teach, admittedly in varying degrees but that’s neither here nor there, but we are also constantly learning.  A professor that refuses to learn and improve is a very poor one.”

“How will we learn new charms?” Harry asked, growing excited.

“Together of course!  I have many reference and spell books and we can always delve into other ones in the library or elsewhere.  I always learn better by doing and we can do that together as well.”  He looked around the empty classroom.  “Which means we can use some appropriate material here.  Inky?”

Inky appeared with a pop.  “Hello Professor Flitwick!” she said brightly.  When she saw Harry, she smiled wide.  “Mister Harry!  Hello!”

“Hi Inky!”

“You two are acquainted already?” Flitwick asked, surprised and delighted.

“Yes Sir.  The Headmaster took me to the kitchens once and I met her there.”

“He did?  No wonder he suggested that Inky would be able to assist us.  Wonderful.  Inky, could we have a stove and some kitchen things here and then some fabric and needles and thread?  Things for sewing?  I’m going to run back to my office for a few books.  Oh actually, Mister Potter, what do you like to cook?”

“How about biscuits again?”  Harry smiled when Lavender and Inky nodded excitedly. 

“Biscuits are always welcome,” Flitwick said.  “Okay then!  I’ll run off and be back soon!”  He ran out of the classroom while Inky popped away.

“I’m glad he’s the instructor for the club,” Lavender said.  “He’s the nicest professor.”

“He’s also really enthusiastic too which is great,” Harry agreed.

In a short time, Flitwick returned, his books floating alongside him.  Inky had popped in and out of the room, bringing the stove as well as the ingredients and things that Harry had asked for.  She also brought over a large pile of different kinds of fabrics of all sorts of material and colors as well as shears and needle and thread.

“Lovely,” Flitwick said as he arranged the books on the main desk.  “I grabbed some of my older books with an emphasis on household things.  Ah here we are.”  He blew off a bit of dust.  “A bit dated as you can see but sometimes the older magic is the more potent!  Why don’t you go ahead and start cooking, Mister Potter, and then we can see what spells will work with what you do.”

Harry fell to with a will.  Like he did in the kitchens a days prior, he mixed all the ingredients together.  Inky watched eagerly and this time was joined by Lavender and Flitwick watching as well.

“Inky has tried making the biscuits as you did,” she said.  “They come out close but not quite so Inky will pay closer attention now.”

“Aww, I’m glad you tried the recipe,” Harry said, touched.  “Have you made biscuits at home?”

Lavender nodded.  “Sort of.  When I was really little, we bought store made biscuit dough.  Recently we did it at home but yours tasted so good.  I’m really interested in how you do it too.”

“Hmm, no wonder you have good wand movements in class,” Flitwick said as he observed Harry mixing and portioning out the biscuits.  “Distinct and purposeful movements are hallmarks of a good charm caster.  Have you cooked a lot?”

“Yes Sir, practically all my life,” Harry said as he laid the biscuits out on the tray.

“It certainly seems so,” Flitwick murmured to himself.

The smell of biscuits filled the air soon and Lavender, Flitwick, and Inky smiled with delight at the sweet heady scent.  They eagerly accepted the biscuits, barely waiting for them to cool.  “My!  These are wonderful!” Flitwick praised.

“Even better than the last ones,” Lavender said with a full mouth.

Inky nodded with agreement, chomping blissfully on hers.

Harry smiled happily.  He was still unused to get such unstinting praise and it showed.

“Okay, seeing the process, I think we can try this charm,” Flitwick said, dabbing his lips with a napkin.  “It’s a Mixing Charm.  It started as one used for mixing building materials for grout and cement but it shouldn’t be any problem to use it for more delicate things.” 

He held up his wand.  “The incantation is Miscere and you draw a shape with your wand in the direction you want to mix it.  It looks like the faster your wand movement, the faster it mixes.  Let us give it a try.”  He put butter and sugar into an empty bowl and drew a small circle slowly.  “Miscere.”

Harry and Lavender exclaimed as they saw the butter and sugar mixing together slowly in the bowl.  “That’s really neat!” Harry said.

Flitwick experimented with his wand movements and the speed of the mixing changed with how he moved his wand.  “It does seem a bit touchy,” he laughed when butter and sugar went flying when he drew a circle swiftly.  “Probably depends on the material as well.  Why don’t you practice with that Mister Potter while we explore some sartorial charms?”

Harry did so eagerly.  It took a few tries but he soon had the bowl’s contents mixing smoothly.  The addition of eggs and flour made the mixing slower and he had to draw a wider circle and a faster one to get the batter to mix well.

“Now if I recall, you are currently learning how to transfigure a matchstick into a needle, yes?” Flitwick asked.

“Yes Sir.  I haven’t quite gotten it yet,” Lavender confessed.

“Nothing wrong with that,” he soothed.  “It’s a simple spell as far as transfiguration goes but transfiguration on the whole is more difficult.  We will use these actual needles here but here is a handy charm to help thread your needle.  And this one I just found makes the needle unable to pierce skin!  I’m sure that will save on accidental poking.”

He and Lavender practiced with their needles and thread and after some tries, they cheered as they managed to make the charms work.  Flitwick poked his pointer finger gently with the needle.  “Still smarts a bit, but no blood!  I’ll count that as a win,” he said proudly.

“It’ll be nice when I forget a thimble,” Lavender said happily. 

“I do like thimbles,” Flitwick chuckled.  “I don’t know how to sew but they are very darling.”  He sniffed the air and turned.  “Ah, another batch ready?”

“Yes Sir,” Harry said, but he looked pensive.

“Is something the matter?” Flitwick asked.

“Well, it might just be me, but I think the second batch tastes a bit different.”  He handed out biscuits from the second batch.

“Hmm, I think you’re right,” Flitwick said thoughtfully.  He took a bite from a biscuit from each batch.  “The second batch does not taste bad at all, still quite good, but there is a noticeable difference.”

“I think so too,” Lavender said.  “I’d happily eat both, but there’s a difference.”

“Second batch tastes like how Inky makes them,” Inky said.

“The ingredients were exactly the same,” Harry mused.  “The bake time was the same.  The only difference was how we mixed the ingredients and made the dough.”

“Hmm, interesting.  Perfect time to experiment then.  We have enough ingredients for another try or two.  I would say make them again, once with your usual way, and another with the charm,” Flitwick suggested.

Harry nodded.  “I’d like to figure out why.”  He started once more willingly.  Inky helped by measuring things out for him.  Harry carefully used the Mixing Charm to mix the second retrial batch, making sure everything mixed smoothly and well.  He sat the two mixing bowls side by side when completed.  “They look and feel and smell the same,” he said.

Inky nodded in agreement and she helped him roll them out.  When they finished baking, she helped lay them out on the kitchen table she brought and on the cooling racks.

“I hope you aren’t tired of biscuits,” Harry joked.

“Not yet,” Flitwick smiled. 

“Me neither,” Lavender said.

The four of them munched on another pair of biscuits, one taken from each new retrial batch.  “The one you make without magic tastes just like your very first one,” Flitwick said.  “Quite good.”

“The second remake with the charm still tastes different,” Lavender said.  “It tastes more like how you do it without magic, but there’s still a difference.  I don’t know what though.”

“Second batch is similar to how Inky makes them, but more like yours without magic.”  Inky blinked slowly as she munched away.  “Is very strange.”

“Perhaps we will learn the why of it as we progress during the year,” Flitwick said.  “Something to explore and understand.  That being said, both styles of biscuits are utterly delicious.”

“Thank you,” Harry said happily.  “What have you made, Lavender?”

Lavender smiled prettily as she held up small bags she had sewn with ribbon drawstrings.  “I was thinking of a fun way to carry your biscuits around and came up with these!  Professor Flitwick said there are charms to keep things from staining the material and to keep things fresh inside.”

“Oh like what the Headmaster did for me,” Harry said.

“It is a very useful charm but a bit above your skill level yet.  Though if you two continue to work hard, then I’m sure I can teach you both how to do it sooner rather than later.”  Flitwick tapped the bags in turn.  “You will eventually have to reapply the charms too.  Most charms eventually wear off unless you incorporate runes.  Something you will learn if you take that elective class.”

He smiled at Harry.  “Now this charm is a bit advanced too but I think you might enjoy trying to learn it sooner.  It is particularly useful against the bane of cooks and chefs everywhere.”  He threw his arms apart dramatically.  “Dirty dishes.”  He laughed alongside Lavender and Harry.  “The wand motion is an elongated S and the incantation is Scourgify.  The Scouring Charm!”

Harry held his wand out and pointed it at the dirty mixing bowl.  “Scourgify.”  A few bubbles appeared and a small part of the sticky dough-speckled bowl cleaned itself but the majority of the bowl remained dirty.

“It is a few years above you but practice makes perfect,” Flitwick smiled.  “Go on then.” 

Harry and Lavender tried a few times, drawing the S and incanting.  They laughed as the bowls rocked back and forth, moved by the magical scrubbing.  Parts of the bowls slowly became clean but the bowls remained defiantly sticky.

“Good effort,” Flitwick smiled after a while.  With a flick of his wand, all the dishes and things used by Harry were scrubbed and scoured clean.  “I am sure we will have plenty of time in the future to practice.”

“I’m definitely more used to washing by hand and I really want to learn how to use that charm properly,” Harry said.  “It’ll be really nice to know.”

“Thank you for teaching us Professor,” Lavender said.  “Is it okay if it’s only me and Harry in the club?”

“Perfectly fine!  Sometimes it’s more fun with smaller groups so we can focus on what we like.  That said, if you wish to invite a few others, I wouldn’t be upset.  I cannot remember the last time I enjoyed the Household Charms club like this.”  His smile was even wider when Harry gave him a bag full of biscuits.  “In fact, if I can partake in what you two make, I’ll be even more enthused.”

Harry frowned all of a sudden.  “Is it okay if I keep using things from the kitchens?  It’s not fair if it's supposed to be for the whole school.”

“The Headmaster said we can use some things,” Inky said, “but not too much.”

“Clubs and organizations have a small budget for things,” Flitwick mused.  “I’m sure we can figure something out to obtain things we want and need.”

“I have some money,” Harry said.

“We typically don’t want students to be overspending on club things.  Don’t worry, Mister Potter, we will figure things out.”  Flitwick pulled out a golden watch and looked at it.  “Goodness, look at the time!   I better get you two back to your tower before curfew.”

“Thank you, Mister Harry!” Inky said, hugging her bag of biscuits.  “And thank you Miss Brown for the pretty bag!”

“You can call me Miss Lavender,” Lavender smiled.  “Thank you for helping us, Inky.”

“I’ll see if we can have a permanent room for the club,” Flitwick said as he led them back towards Gryffindor tower.  “There are plenty of unused classrooms.  It would be nice to be able to leave things there for our meetings.  Is once a week good for the both of you?”

“Yes Sir,” Harry and Lavender said, nodding.

“Splendid.  And do keep up with your studies you two.  I would be heartbroken if we had to stop meeting due to you having poor marks.  Here we are.  Have a good night!”  He waved cheerily and walked away, whistling brightly and patting the bag inside his pocket.

“I’m glad we did that club,” Lavender said as she walked through the portrait hole.  “That was a lot of fun and you’re a really good cook!”

Harry smiled proudly.  “It was a lot of fun and I can’t wait to figure out what makes the tastes different.”  He held two of the bags that Lavender made.  “You’re really good at sewing.  These are really pretty!”

“Thank you!” Lavender blushed.  “I really like making cute and pretty things.  I hope to make clothes one day.”

“I bet you’ll make awesome ones.  Is it okay that I have two?” Harry asked.

“Sure!  As long as you keep feeding me good food.”

“I’ll be happy to,” he replied sincerely.

“I’ll share some biscuits with Parvati.  If she fusses and wants more, she can join us at the club,” Lavender said.  “Good night, Harry.  See you tomorrow!”

He returned her wave and went up the stairs to his dorm room.  Thankfully he was the only one in the room and he got ready for bed in peace.  He carefully put the bags on the nightstand and smiled at them as he laid back in bed.

“Things are getting better,” he said softly to himself and slowly drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

4^th Course – Foundations

Harry loved the way the wind felt as he flew.  Being on a broom and flying in the sky felt freeing, a way for him to focus on the moment and ignore everything else.  The feeling of the air flowing over him, the wind going through his hair, the sensation of being slightly away from everything, all of it was wonderful to him.  Practically and literally magical to him.

Flying club was popular.  A lot of the students chose it from all the Houses.  For some, it was a chance to just enjoy flying while others played Quidditch casually.  Harry had drifted away from Seamus, Dean, and Ron and avoided Draco and his friends like the plague.  With no one else that he was friendly with in the club, he had flown around a bit by himself.

Then the Weasley Twins approached him.

At first, they seemed very nice, like they were when he met them briefly on the train.  But as they continued to ‘help’ him with his flying, he started having second thoughts.  They continued to smile that identical smile at him but he felt that it was having a different feeling to it the longer they smiled.  They pushed him on, taking him faster and guiding on maneuvers that felt more than a little unstable to him.  He had just barely managed to hang onto his broom and landed, winded.

“Hey, you okay?”  A tall older boy with short sandy blonde hair approached.  He looked down at Harry with a touch of concern.

“I think so,” Harry gasped.

The boy looked at the twins.  “Excuse me a minute,” he said to Harry and jerked his head one way at the twins.  They followed him and looked insincerely innocent all the while.  “Alright you two,” the older boy sighed, “what’s all this about?”

“What do you mean?” Fred Weasley asked.

“What’s all what about?” George Weasley asked.

Oliver Wood snorted.  “Don’t give me that.  I know you two and you were giving the kid some trouble.”

“Was not,” they protested.

“We were just trying to give him some pointers,” George said.

“Help him with his flying,” Fred said.

“He’s an ickle firstie you know.”

“Second time on a broom and everything.”

“Then why were you ‘teaching’ him some of the more intense stuff?” Oliver asked, eyebrow raised.  He sighed at their identical shrug.  “Alright, fine.  Be that way.  Leave him alone.”

“Just ‘cause you’re Quidditch captain, doesn’t mean you can boss us about,” Fred sniffed.

“Fair, but I can find someone else who can,” Oliver said plainly.

“You wouldn’t,” George gasped.

“I’m Wood,” Oliver said dryly.  He grinned at their snorts.  “Clear off then.  Come on.”  He waited for them to lope off before walking back to Harry.  “Hey, sorry about that.  The twins can be a little intense about things.”

“I’ve learned,” Harry said, having regained his breath.

“I’m Oliver Wood, fifth year.”

“Harry Potter, first year.”  Harry accepted Oliver’s handshake.  It was firm and kind.

“Try not to let them get to you,” Oliver said softly.  “They like to mess about and play pranks on people and while they push things a bit, they aren’t all bad.  Unless you get on their bad side.”

“I don’t think I am but I might be,” Harry sighed.

“What did you do to them?” Oliver asked, surprised.

“Not to them directly, but I don’t think their little brother likes me.  I might have said something that got taken the wrong way on the train.  I tried to explain and apologize but…”  Harry shrugged limply.

“Ah yeah.  The Weasleys are all kinds of stubborn, all of them.  I’ve known a bunch of them.  Their older brothers Bill and Charlie have long graduated and I’m in the same year as Percy.  Good people but stubborn and proud in their way.  Try not to take it personally.”

“Thanks,” Harry said gratefully.

“You’re a pretty good flyer, been flying long?”

“No, second time actually.”

“Really?  Hope you keep with it and maybe try out for Quidditch next year.  I’m the captain for our House Team.”

“I don’t know anything about Quidditch.  A friend mentioned it but that’s about it.”  Harry noticed Oliver’s obvious enthusiasm.  “I’d be fine with learning more.”

“Brilliant!  Let’s take a lazy fly about and I’ll tell you all about it.  It’s a great sport.”

-0-

Percy Weasley groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “What am I going to do with them?” he muttered in a very weary tone.

Oliver smiled sympathetically.  “Sorry to add to your workload but thought you’d might want to know.  Also thought you’d know what was going on.”

“I wish I did not want to know but you are correct, I do.  Also, I do not know to be honest.”  Percy frowned.  “I get the feeling that Ron does not care for Harry for some reason but he did not really share much when I asked and I did not press.  Which is odd because sometimes I get the feeling Ron does want to be friends.”

“Harry seems like an okay kid.  Fred and George only mess with people that really deserve it or the people they are super close to, far as I can tell anyways, so that’s why I found it a bit weird that they were messing with Harry.”  Oliver shrugged. 

“There was that odd rumor going about,” Percy said.  He looked thoughtful.  “Something about Harry eating things in Potions?”

“Oh right, that.”  Oliver shrugged again.  “I mean, who didn’t get a desire to try and eat something?  Besides you,” he grinned when Percy gave him a look.  “But even if that’s the reason, it isn’t a good one.”

“No, it is not.  I will see if I can get to the bottom of it.  Thank you.”  Percy snorted.  “Granted, you have a better rapport with the twins.  You would probably have better luck than I.”

“They’re being clammed up about this one,” Oliver said.  “Besides, they don’t mess with me that much because they know I can make practices even worse than they are and they don’t want that.”

Percy laughed.  “Even worse?  Now that is a thought.  The only pull I have over them is that I could involve our mother and I generally do not wish to.”

“Family’s complicated,” Oliver said pleasantly.

“You do not have to tell me that,” Percy said dryly.

-0-

“How was Flying club?” Lavender asked.

Harry sat beside her, grunting softly.  “It was good overall.  I still like flying.  I learned a lot about Quidditch from Oliver Wood.  He’s our House team captain.  He showed me some ways to fly better and he’s nice.”  Harry looked around the common room.  “The Weasley twins did too but they were a bit rougher about it.”

“Are they nicer than Ron?” Lavender asked, frowning slightly.

“Sort of?  I don’t know really to be honest,” Harry said.  “Like I said, they were a bit rough and a bit intimidating.”

“I’ve heard you don’t want to get on their bad side,” she whispered.

“I’ll try not to,” Harry muttered.  “Problem is, people don’t like me for some reason.”

Lavender poked him.  “I like you.”

“Well you’re nicer,” Harry said with a grateful smile.

“I’m pretty sure Parvati likes you,” Lavender continued with a bright smile.

Parvati sat down beside Lavender.  “I do, especially if I can get more biscuits.  Those were delicious!  Can I join the Household Charms club too?”

Harry flushed a little at the praise.  “I’m sure you can.  I’m glad you like them.”

“She tried to take all of mine,” Lavender complained, pushing her friend a little. 

“Like I’d be fine with just two!  You had so many!”  She and Lavender pushed and shoved each other a little before she hit Lavender with one of the couch pillows.  “Right Harry?”

“Those were Lavender’s,” Harry grinned.  “She can share how she likes.”

“Thank you, Harry!” Lavender crowed, hitting Parvati solidly with her own pillow.

-0-

“Hello hello!” Flitwick said happily when Harry, Lavender, and Parvati walked into the meeting room.  “I made sure to be early this time!  And welcome Miss Patil!  Always happy to welcome a new member to the club.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Parvati said brightly.  “Lavender and Harry said they learned a lot with you and Harry’s biscuits were delicious.”

“Weren’t they?  They sadly did not last long enough for me.”  Flitwick clapped his hands eagerly.  “What is on the agenda today then?”

“We practiced with the Mixing Charm in Herbology the other day,” Harry said.  “Professor Sprout let us try it with mixing compost and soil and she liked it.  She was happy to learn the spell too and we earned a few points for it.”

“Splendid!” Flitwick praised.

“So I was thinking of something else I can try the Mixing Charm with and maybe we can learn more about why some things taste differently.  So I’d like to make muffins please.”

“A grand idea and I heartily agree.”  Before he could say anything, Inky appeared with a pop.  “As you can see, Inky has been as eager as we’ve been.  Off you go then.  Now Miss Brown and Miss Patil, what would you like to work on?”

“I’d like to practice more with the charms we learned with needle and thread,” Lavender said.  “And you mentioned there’s some charms for strengthening thread and cloth?”

“Yes there are, let’s see shall we?”

After measuring out the ingredients with Inky and making two batches, one where he mixed things by hand and the other using the charm to mix the batter, Harry poured out individual muffins and set them to bake in the oven.  Inky said she would watch them carefully and Harry joined the others.  “Oh those look nice,” he said, pointing at their work.

“I’m not quite up to Lavender’s skills yet,” Parvati said.  “So I’m learning how to sew up a handkerchief.”

“Can I try?” Harry asked.

“You want to sew too?” Lavender asked, delighted. 

“Sure.  I learned the basics a long time ago, how to fix things, but it’s been a while.  Besides, you all make it look a lot of fun.”

“Why don’t you teach Mister Potter the spells we learned last time with threading the needle and the Thimble Charm?” Flitwick suggested.  “Teaching is a wonderful way to reinforce your knowledge.”  He looked on proudly when Lavender taught him the charms. 

“That is really handy,” Harry said as he began to work on stitching the hem on his handkerchief. 

Soon the air was filled with scents of banana and vanilla and cinnamon, making mouths water.  At Inky’s call, Harry pulled the muffin tins out and the brown muffin tops steamed as they released their deeply sweet aroma into the air. 

“Those smell so good,” Lavender sighed.  “We might need to eat less dinner before club nights.”

“I’m sure I’ll have room,” Parvati said confidently.

Harry removed muffins from both batches and gently cut them open.  The insides were soft and moist, releasing even more rich banana scents.  He put a half of each batch onto a plate and served a pair to each person.

“This might be the best muffin I’ve ever had,” Lavender said, her mouth full.  She fanned her open mouth, unable to keep herself from biting into the muffin that was a shade too hot to be warm. 

“Mmhmm,” Flitwick hummed.  “Sweet but not overly, a soft crumb, with a nice scent of cinnamon and vanilla with the banana.  Lovely!”

“I usually put butter and jam on muffins, even sweet ones,” Parvati said, swallowing her bite of muffin.  “But I don’t need that for these.  Wow Harry!  I can’t believe you can bake so well!”

“Thanks!”  Harry looked pleased.  “The ovens here are really nice.  There’s practically no cold spots and they hold temperature really well.  Magic is amazing.”  They took bites out of the second muffin.

“There is still a difference,” Inky said as she chewed thoughtfully.  “Mister Harry’s first muffin is very good and the second muffin is also very good but you can taste something different.”

“Agreed,” Flitwick said.  “And just like the biscuits last time, the only difference is that you used the charm to mix the ingredients?”  He licked his fingers absent-mindedly when Harry nodded.  “If that is the only difference, then the charm has to be the deciding factor.”

“I think it’s a very small difference this time,” Lavender said.  “Not like the first time we had the two biscuit batches.”

“You said you’ve been practicing the charm?” Flitwick asked.  “Hmm, very interesting,” he said when they confirmed that.  “I will have to do some more research into that on my own end.  For now, however, I plan to give these muffins due attention.”  He chomped away blissfully.  “You have a gift, Mister Potter.”

“I do?” Harry asked, eyes wide.

“I think so.  It is clear you work hard and have practiced, but you have a talent for it.  Whoever taught you must be proud of you.”    

Harry looked away.  “I…maybe,” he said quietly.

Lavender frowned at his reaction, an expression that Parvati shared.  Inky looked concerned, as did Flitwick.  After a moment, the professor cleared his throat.  “Well, in any case, you should be proud of your efforts and I will continue to look forward to trying anything you make for us.”

Harry shook his head briefly, not in disagreement, but in an attempt to shake thoughts and feelings away.  “Thank you,” he said at last, smiling but the expression did not quite reach his eyes.  “I like cooking for you all.  You’re really nice.”

His air of good ease returned as they continued to sew together and snack on the muffins.  Eventually they finished and he held up his two handkerchiefs that he managed to do in the time frame.  “My second one is a lot better,” he laughed.

“You did really well,” Lavender praised.  “You too Parvati.”

“Thanks!  I never liked sewing before,” Parvati said as she proudly held up hers.  “But that might be more because of my mum and aunties.  They get very particular about stitches and hems and things.”

“I can fuss at you if you miss the home experience,” Lavender said unhelpfully.

“I can poke you with the needle,” Parvati replied primly while the others chuckled.

Harry divided up the muffins as they cleaned up the club classroom.  Flitwick praised their improvement with the Scouring Charm and gave Parvati a few pointers when she attempted it.  “Have we talked about paying for ingredients and things?” Harry asked.

“We have a budget,” Flitwick said soothingly.  “All clubs can apply for one and I took the liberty.  So we can purchase things comfortably.  Now if there is anything specific or special, we will have to discuss it and see what we can do.”  He bid them farewell and Inky waved as she popped away. 

“I need to go see Padma for something before curfew,” Parvati said.  “I’m going to wave these muffins in her face.”

“I can give you more to give to her,” Harry laughed.

“I took an extra one to give to her.  I just want to lord them over her for a bit before I do.”

“Shouldn’t you rub it in her face?” Lavender smiled.

“Ew no.  I wouldn’t want to eat it then if I did that,” Parvati laughed.  “See you two later.”

Harry waited for her to disappear around the corner before he shyly held out his second handkerchief to Lavender.  “Here.  I made this one to give to you.”

“Awww really?!”  Lavender took it gleefully. 

“Since you gave me those wonderful little bags last time, I wanted to make one for you.  It’s not as good as yours though.”

“I love it.  Thank you, Harry!  You’re so sweet.”  She beamed happily at him.

He blushed.  “Well, I’m happy to give it to you,” he said awkwardly.  “I’ll see you in a bit in the common room.”

 “Oh you have to go somewhere?”

“I wanted to visit Hedwig before curfew and give her a muffin.”

“Are owls allowed to have muffins?” Lavender asked.

“I honestly have no idea.  I hope so.  I fed her all sorts of things the last few days before school started, things I cooked and she ate them all.  She looks healthy.  I better go ask Hagrid sometime.”

“Can I visit Hedwig with you sometime?”

“Sure!  I’ll introduce you two at breakfast and as long as she likes you, I’m sure you can visit other times too.”

“Does she not like other people?”

“Well she’s only met my relations other than me and she wasn’t too nice to them but to be fair, they weren’t nice to her either.  But you’re way nicer than them so I’m sure she’ll like you,” he said earnestly.

She blinked a bit before nodding.  “Well I’ll be on my best behavior at breakfast then to make a good impression.  See you in a bit!”

-0-

Harry descended the steps, humming softly to himself.  Visiting with Hedwig was one of his favorite things to do.  The owl was incredibly affectionate and he liked to chat with her and pet her.  She had voraciously devoured the muffin he gave her and had scattered crumbs all over his head playfully, hooting with laughter at his expression.  She then preened his hair some, yanking on it playfully and lovingly.  They then made a game of him tossing bits of muffin into the air for her to nab in mid flight.

They sat together for a while but when night had fallen and the air on the roof became chilly, she nipped at him to go indoors where it was warm.  After a hug and another nip, he wandered down the steps and started making his way back to Gryffindor tower.

As he stepped down the hallway though, something made him pause.  He heard a sound that slowly grew in volume and intensity.  After a moment he swallowed, recognizing the sound.  It was a deeply painful sound, a deeply private one.

One he knew from lots of experience.

His first thought was to leave, to let the sound be.  After a few steps though, he turned and walked towards the source of the sound.  He licked his lips nervously and as he approached the source, he spoke softly.  “H-hello?  Are you okay?”

-0-

Pansy stared at Draco. 

She was not the only one.  Everyone in that corner of the Slytherin common room stared in shock.  Draco was paler than usual but stood his ground, not looking at anyone.  His eyes stared past Pansy’s ear, staring at the rug.

“You pushed me,” Pansy said with disbelief.  She looked up at him.  Her knee hurt from hitting it on the way down against a low table.  Her rear smarted from landing hard on the stone floor, the rug barely cushioning the blow. 

The silence was thick and palpable, a sour taste on the tongue.

“You pushed me,” she repeated dumbly.  “You’ve never pushed me before, ever.”

“You do not get to tell me what to do,” he stammered back. 

“I wasn’t trying to,” she said.  It took all her willpower to keep from tearing up, to keep her voice from shaking.

“Yes, you were,” he retorted.  His voice became steady.  “Besides, it was only a push.  Do not be so childish.  I did not hurt you.”

Her body and her eyes were proof of the lie in his words.  “Why are you being so mean?” she whispered.  “What do you want from me?”

He flinched at the words slightly before his face hardened.  “Just leave me alone Pansy!  Just because we were close when we were younger does not mean you can hang onto me now!”

Something inside of Pansy throbbed and cracked.  She climbed to her feet.  “Okay,” she whispered.

“Okay what?” Draco asked, his countenance uncertain.

“Okay,” Pansy repeated.  She turned and walked away, sliding deftly away from Millicent’s outstretched hand.  She shook her head slightly, stopping Millicent’s protest.  With as much dignity and false calmness she could muster, she walked slowly away, leaving the Slytherin common room.  Once the wall slid shut behind her, separating her from the others, she finally let herself sob.  She let herself feel as she fled.

She ran through the castle, up the stairs, and far away from the common room and the dungeons.  She ran and almost tripped, turning the corner.  Stumbling, she sank to her knees before crawling into an alcove.  With her arms wrapped around her legs, her face buried into her knees, she let herself go completely. 

Her sobs wracked her body and she let her tears run unchecked.  For as long as she could remember, she had been told a proper Pureblood lady did not cry in front of others.  She did not let others see her so basic, so undignified.  Showing emotions was weakness, and weakness was a weapon to be used against you.  So she had done her best to remain the Pureblood that she was in the presence of others and only now can she let herself be something else.

It was not fair.  All she wanted was to spend more time with Draco.  She could deal with Crabbe and Goyle being there all the time.  She could accept that he wanted to spend time with other students, despite not being too happy about it.  At first, she wanted it to be just her and him, like when they were younger.  She accepted that he wanted to interact with the others in the House, feeling envious when he fawned over the other girls.  She had watched him as he tried to ingratiate himself with the older boys.

She knew she was not completely without blame.  She had needled him, thinking erroneously that any attention was wanted: positive or negative.  She tried to fit herself in as much as she could, desperate for his attention once more.  She joined in with his mocking of the other students, especially the students from the other Houses.  It was her hope that it would help her stay in his good graces.  Sometimes it worked.  Other times it did not, resulting with him getting more short with her.

Just now was the worst of it however.  When she tried to talk to him, he pushed her to get her out of his way.  She could not remember a single time in the past where he had ever pushed her like that.  Even when they were little children, he had not. 

She let weeks’ worth of emotion explode out of her as she continued to cry.

“H-Hello?  Are you okay?”

The voice startled her and she cursed herself, trying to regain composure.  When she looked up, she groaned internally, seeing Harry bloody Potter standing there.  Of all people, she did not want to see him there.  She did not want him to see her like that.  “Wh-What do you want?” she spat, scrubbing at her eyes.

“I just wanted to see if you’re okay,” Harry said weakly.

“Really?  Why?”  Pansy let her embarrassment turn into anger.  “Do I not look it?”

“Well, no, not really.”

“Well spotted,” she hissed.  “Go on then.  Have your fun.”

“Why would I have fun?” Harry asked, confused.

“You cannot tell me that you are not enjoying this,” she said angrily.  “I have mocked you all these days.  I have spread the rumors of you eating plants to others to humiliate you.  This is the perfect chance for your revenge.  Go on!  What are you waiting for?!”

He shuffled from foot to foot.  “I’m really not enjoying it,” he said after a moment.  “Sure, I don’t like that you said those things but that doesn’t mean I like seeing you so upset.”

She glared at him.  A part of her did not believe him.  Gallingly, another part did.  His sincerity pierced her anger and his concern infuriated her even more.  She wanted comfort, but not from him.  Not like this. 

The silence between them was painfully awkward.

“Here.”  He held out his first handkerchief.  He had fished it out of his pocket and wrapped a muffin in it before offering it.

“What is that?” she asked, staring at the offering with mistrust.

“A banana muffin,” he replied, still holding it out.  “Just made it.”

She looked up at him.  “You made it.”

“Yeah.  In Household Charms club.  Baked it from scratch.”

“What makes you think I want it?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly.  “I…I just hope it helps.”

“Do you think I am crying because I am hungry?” she asked scathingly. 

“I used to,” he said plainly.  He colored and looked away but he still held out the wrapped muffin, saying nothing more.  He surprised himself, saying something so openly.  Seeing Pansy so upset had touched something deep inside of him, letting a closely held secret loose.

She stared at him, shocked by his simple statement.  Slowly, uncertainly, Pansy reached up and took the bundle from him.  She looked at it, expecting it to do something else, waiting for some trick to happen.  Yet none came and she looked back at Harry.  “Why?” she whispered.

“Because I don’t like hearing people cry,” Harry said finally.  With an awkward nod he turned and left, walking away without another word.

She watched him flee, losing sight of him as he turned the corner.  She stared at the muffin in her hand, wrapped by a handkerchief with clumsy stitches.  When she unwrapped the muffin, she breathed deep of the sweet scent.  The muffin warmed her cold hand.  She raised her hand to throw it, to toss his concern away, to get rid of his pity.

She bit into the muffin cautiously instead, still expecting some dreadful trick, some ploy to take advantage of her moment of weakness.  She bit the muffin again, and again.  Her bites became bigger each time.  Tears ran again but they tasted sweeter, or perhaps it was the muffin that flavored them.  After the third bite, she slowed down, savoring the taste, drawing it out. 

Too soon, the handkerchief was empty save for crumbs and lingering warmth.  She closed her eyes and held the handkerchief in both hands.  Her stomach felt warm and despite her best efforts, the warmth spread throughout her body. 

The tears still ran and she cried once more but they took on a different note as she continued to hide in the alcove.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

5^th Course – Families and Recipes

“What’s wrong Parvati?” Lavender asked, sitting down beside her friend.

“Nothing really, I guess,” Parvati said.  Her expression was slightly glum however, her tone subdued.

“Is something wrong with steak and kidney pie?” Lavender asked.

“No, aside from that it’s steak and kidney pie,” she replied.

“What’s wrong with steak and kidney pie?” Harry asked.

Parvati giggled at his look of vague affront.  “Nothing really, just not what I was wanting, I guess.  It’s weird, I kinda miss having what my family usually has for dinner.”

“Oh that makes sense,” Lavender said sympathetically.  “I guess my family usually ate this sort of thing on the regular so it feels more familiar to me.”  She looked at Harry.  “How about you?”

“Pretty much the same,” Harry said.  “The Dursleys didn’t really like foreign food really.  So I never got the chance to learn or make very different things.  Always wanted to, though.”

“Hey!”  Parvati straightened, her expression brightening.  “Do you think you could make something if I gave you the recipe?”

“I can try,” Harry said slowly.  “I’m good at following recipes but if it’s a different kind of food, I don’t know if I’ll do a good job at it.  Since I’ve never made anything like it before.”

“I bet you could!” Lavender said brightly.  “Your biscuits and muffins are amazing and you do those with a recipe in your head.  I’m sure you could do a good job with a recipe written out.  Especially if Parvati knows what it’s supposed to look and taste like.”

“Yeah!  I mean, I never learned how to make it myself but I have watched before.  Please Harry?”  Parvati gave him a soulful look, her eyes wide open and blinking slowly.

Harry went beet red.  “Oh!  Uh, I mean, sure I’d be happy to try,” he stammered. 

“Thank you!” Parvati said happily.  “Hmm, I don’t remember recipes completely.  I could write home.  Oh!  Wait, I have an idea.”  She looked over at the Ravenclaw table.  “Drat, she’s not there.  Let me go find her.”  She took off running.

“She probably went to find Padma,” Lavender said, frowning as her friend ran off.

“Oh that makes sense.  Should we wait for her here or follow?” Harry asked.

“We can finish dinner.  She’ll find us later or we can find her first.”

Parvati did not return and Harry and Lavender finished their dinner and started walking back up to Gryffindor tower.  As they got off the last moving staircase and entered the hall leading towards the upper part of the castle, they stopped when someone shouted for them.  They waited for Parvati and Padma to reach them.

“Finally found her,” Parvati said, gasping a little.

“I was reading,” Padma sighed, giving her sister a look.

“I know, I saw.  Padma, you’ve met Lavender.  This is Harry.  Harry, meet Padma, my twin.”

“Hello,” Harry said, nodding shyly.

“Hello,” Padma said back, giving him a curious look.  “What’s this about?”

“Harry’s going to try and cook something for us,” Parvati said.  “He’s a really good cook and if we can give him a recipe, he’ll try and make it for us.”

“Okay, so what am I doing here then?” Padma asked.

“Because I don’t remember the recipes and I was thinking you did.”

Padma glared at her sister.  “Really?  This is what you want?”

“What?!  I’ve missed eating our home food and you can’t tell me that you haven’t either!”

“Okay, I might, but you can’t expect the castle to provide Indian food for us!”

“I didn’t!  That’s why I asked Harry!”

Padma looked at him.  “Have you ever cooked Indian food before?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Then how can you expect him to cook it then?!”

“With a recipe!”

Padma rested her hands on her hips.  “Just following a recipe doesn’t always work.  Indian food is way different than lots of other foods and,” she gave Harry a sheepish look, “no offense, but just because you can cook one thing, it doesn’t mean you can cook another.”

“None taken,” Harry said quickly.  “I said as much but I’d love to try.”

“Come on, it can’t be that much different than potion making and Harry’s really good at that too.  That’s just following a recipe and you learn by doing that.”  Parvati rested her hands on her hips and gave Padma a look.  “I’ve had Harry’s cooking twice now and it’s so good and with me and you to help him, it’ll be good!”

Lavender started giggling, covering her mouth with her hand.  She giggled harder when the other three looked at her.  “I’m sorry, but you two look so much alike right now,” she said, pointing at the Patil twins.

They gave identical eyerolls and huffs, exchanging an irritated look that made Lavender giggle even harder and Harry smile.  “We are twins after all,” Parvati huffed.

“But there are some differences,” Padma said with a sharp smile.  “You never learned how to do anything in the kitchen right.  That’s why Mum and the aunties and Grandmum stopped trying to teach you.”

“Hey, it’s not easy!  Right Harry?”

“It can be hard, yeah,” Harry agreed.

Padma snorted.  “One time she confused the paprika with chili powder and we drank gallons of water that night when the curry was super spicy.”

Parvati flushed while Lavender broke out laughing and Harry chuckled.  “Like you’re little miss perfect!  One time she mixed the salt and the sugar and our gulab jamun were salt balls!”

Padma flushed deeply and growled at her sister.  “You’re the one that used all the strings for the dolls and Papa and the uncles couldn’t restring any of their instruments!”

“You didn’t stop me and those were our dolls, you kutiya!”

“I’m telling Mum you called me that!”

Harry’s eyes widened with alarm as Parvati and Padma started shouting at each other, half in English and half in a different language.  They were waving their arms and were pushing each other slightly.  “Should we stop them?”

Lavender shook her head.  “No, this is normal for siblings.  I used to fight with my little sisters like this all the time.”

“I’d never dare fight Dudley like this,” Harry muttered to himself.

“Ahem,” Lavender cleared her throat.  She quailed a little at the identical angry looks from the Patils.  “Might not want to draw any teachers or prefects.”

Padma smoothed her skirt out.  “Right, sorry.  But here’s the thing, we need a lot of spices.  I remember the ratios but how are we supposed to get them out here?  Not to mention where are we supposed to cook it?”

“I can ask Professor Flitwick if we can use the Household Charms club classroom,” Harry said.  “He might let us.  As far as spices go, I can try asking the House Elves.”

“Really?”  Padma looked impressed.  “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I don’t think I’m supposed to but I know we can order things via owl.  Maybe they can tell me how to get some things that way?  We can make it work.” 

“We can ask Mum and Dad,” Parvati said.  “They might send us stuff.”

“You know they won’t.  They only care about us learning and school stuff here,” Padma sighed.  “Plus Grandmum would get really mad at us.  These are family recipes and you know that.  We’re not supposed to be sharing those with people not in the family.”

“Oh right,” Parvati mumbled.  “Always thought that was kinda dumb though.”

“I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble over this,” Harry said quietly.  “Family recipes are important, right?”  The tone of his voice made the girls stop and look at him.

“I mean yeah, but it’s nothing like that,” Parvati said, though she had a touch of uncertainty in her expression.

“I think Grandmum cares more about the ratio of spices,” Padma said after a moment.  “So if I measure the spices myself then it should be okay, maybe.  As far as they know anyways.”  She shrugged.  “Honestly, she might be happy that we get to eat our family food while here.  She always complained that we eat too much British food.”

“Then we can ask Professor Flitwick tomorrow after class,” Lavender said encouragingly.  “I’d love to eat some Indian food too.  I miss having takeaway from other kinds of food here.  It’ll be fun!”

“Yeah, I’m excited,” Harry said with a smile.

“I’ll write a letter for home,” Padma said.  “See what Grandmum says.”

“You can ask Hedwig to deliver it for you,” Harry said.  “She’s my snowy owl.  Just tell her it’s for me and I think she will.  She gets bored I think since I don’t really have anyone to write to.”

“Thanks Harry,” Parvati said.  “I’ll help Padma write the letter and we can send it off tonight.”  She and Padma waved and walked towards Ravenclaw tower while Lavender and Harry continued on to Gryffindor tower.

“Does…does he usually say stuff like that?” Padma asked after they walked in silence for a few moments.

“Kinda?  Enough to notice,” Parvati said quietly.  “I’m not as close to him as Lavender but I like him.  He’s nice and seriously, he’s great at baking and I bet he’s a good cook too.  But yeah, it’s a little weird.”

Padma did not say anything more and the two continued to walk in thoughtful silence.

-0-

Flitwick hummed for a moment.  “Strictly speaking, the classroom should be for club activities and while I do not doubt your skills anymore Mister Potter, I don’t know if it’s wise to let you cook without supervision.  In case of emergency.”

“Would it make you feel better to know I’ve cooked by myself for years?” Harry asked.

Flitwick blinked and the girls looked at him once more.  “Well, yes and no,” he said. 

“What if we do practice some of the charms we’ve learned while we’re using the clubroom?” Lavender asked. 

“And we promise to be extra careful,” Parvati said.

Flitwick smiled gently.  “That would be considered club activities, and I am enthused knowing Miss Patil would be joining you.  I always like seeing inter-House interactions, especially when it’s one of my own.  I suppose as long as you have one of the House Elves keeping an eye on things-“ his smile grew when Inky popped into the classroom.

“Inky volunteers!” the House Elf said happily.

“You aren’t neglecting your other duties of course?” Flitwick asked.

The House Elf gave him a jaundiced look.  “Inky would never!  Inky will keep an eye and ear out on Mister Harry and the others and other House Elves will help too.”

“They will?” Padma asked, surprised.

“As long as they get to eat,” Inky said.  “They like Mister Harry’s cooking too.”

“Which brings me to my next condition,” Flitwick continued.  “I would like to try whatever you are making as well.”

“Of course,” Harry said with a large smile.  “Are we allowed to then?”

“I suppose you are,” Flitwick said.  He looked about with exaggerated caution.  “Don’t tell anyone else, however.  I would hate to be accused of favoritism.”

-0-

“I didn’t do anything,” Ron complained.

“Neither did we,” the twins complained.

Percy sighed but continued to push his brothers into a corner of the common room.  “Yes you did and I want to get to the bottom of this.”  He gave them all a severe look and privately lamented when none of them seemed to be all that affected by it. 

He took a deep breath.  “Why were you two messing with Potter at Flying club?”

“Who said we were?” the twins retorted, incensed.

“Oliver.”

“And he came running to you?  Boo,” George grunted.

“Because he was concerned,” Percy said evenly.

“For Potter?” Fred asked.

“And for the both of you, saying it was uncharacteristic.” 

That mollified the twins slightly.  After staying silent for a moment longer they shrugged.  “Okay, maybe we were messing with him, but just a little,” George confessed.

“I already knew that.  I want to know why,” Percy pressed.

“Because of Ron,” Fred said.

“I didn’t tell them to do that!” Ron protested.

“Not in so many words,” George said, waggling his hand.

“Enough!”  Percy pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes.  “Ron, why did you say something that Fred and George would want to mess with Potter over?  What has he done to you?”

“He had a go at Mum,” Ron muttered.

Percy opened his eyes and looked at Ron with a very serious expression.  “I sincerely doubt that Potter insulted our mother.”

“So I’m a liar?” Ron retorted, cheeks going red.

“I did not say that,” Percy said as patiently as he could, ignoring the looks from the twins.  “What I am saying, based on what I have seen from Potter, I do not think he deliberately insulted her.”

“So you’d trust someone else instead of family?” George and Fred said with disgust.

“Please,” Percy snorted.  “You two mislead people all the time and we all know that everyone in the family is guilty of misunderstanding things.”

“Fair enough.”  The twins shrugged.

Percy looked back at Ron.  “What did Potter say exactly?”

“It was weeks ago,” Ron said weakly.

“Try and remember.”

Ron thought hard.  “Well he seemed nice at first.  When the snack cart came, he got a lot of candy and he traded me a bunch for the sandwiches Mum makes.  He ate one and asked if I knew how she made them and I said like how anyone makes a sandwich.  He said it tasted different from other corned beef he had and I got mad.”

“Different does not mean bad,” Percy said.  “Did he actually say it tasted bad?”

“No, he said it tasted good, just different,” Ron said lamely.  He flushed at the looks from his older brothers.  “But then he kept saying how weird the candy was!”

“Ron, did he grow up in a magical family?” Percy asked.

“No, he said he grew up with Muggles.”

“Then of course he would find things to be odd,” Percy sighed. 

“He wouldn’t shut up about talking about food and cooking and things,” Ron grumbled. 

“You’d think you’d like that considering you eat a lot,” Fred grinned.

“So do you two!” Ron shouted.

Percy held his hand up.  “So do we all but that is not the point.  Clearly cooking and food is something Potter is interested in.  He was most likely trying to connect with you.”

“It’s weird though,” Ron said mulishly.  “I told him that wizards and witches don’t really care about cooking and stuff like that.”

“It is no weirder than you enjoying Quidditch and the Chudley Cannons so much,” Percy said.

“The Cannons are great!”

“No they aren’t,” the twins said.

“Enough,” Percy said again, keeping the ensuing argument from happening. 

“It’s not my fault!” Ron said angrily.  “He’s weird!  He cares more about cooking and food.  He was eating potion ingredients!  That’s not normal!”

“Ron, he does not know,” Percy repeated.  “How could he?  Yes, we know not to do that but we were raised differently.  Everyone has different interests.  That is normal.”

“He should know,” Ron insisted. 

“He was not taught, not like us,” Percy said firmly.  “Look, obviously this was all a very unfortunate misunderstanding.”  He pointed at the twins.  “Do not mess with him anymore.  If he legitimately does something that upsets you, let me know.”  He looked back at Ron.  “And leave him be.  Do not think I have not noticed how Finnegan continues to spread those rumors and say those things.  You do not have to be friends with Potter but do not let this misunderstanding continue to fuel your ire.”

The three Weasleys opened their mouths to protest but they shut them abruptly, quailing at the incredibly severe look that Percy gave them.

“Alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Fred muttered.

“Thanks a lot,” George muttered, poking Ron.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Ron growled back.

“That.  Is.  Enough.”  Percy’s tone was a very final one that caused his three brothers to fall silent.  “Let us go about our day then.”  He turned to walk away.

“Kinda funny how you’re so willing to defend him,” George said wryly.

“Is it?”  Percy turned halfway and raised an eyebrow at them.  “After seeing what he has endured, I can understand what he is going through.”

“You can?” Fred asked, surprised.

“Yes.  I know exactly what it is like to speak and be heard but not listened to.  And to be mocked for liking something different.”  He turned and walked away completely, leaving a very quiet corner behind him.

-0-

Hedwig came flying down, dodging nimbly around other post and family owls.  Spreading her wings wide, she landed neatly in front of Harry and hooted a hello before walking daintily up the table to approach Parvati.  She held a leg out, revealing a small package tied neatly.

“Thanks Hedwig!” Parvati said as she undid the ties.  She looked a little confused when Hedwig looked at her expectantly. 

“She wants some of your bacon,” Harry whispered loudly.  “For a job well done.”

“Oh!  Here you go.”  Parvati giggled when Hedwig carefully accepted the piece of bacon and gobbled it down noisily. 

“Do you need her to send some post too?” Harry asked. 

Lavender shook her head, smiling when Hedwig took the piece she offered.  “Maybe later.  But I wanted to give her a piece because she’s beautiful and adorable.”

Hedwig fluffed up, sticking her chest out and gave Harry a smug look.

“Hey, I tell you that all the time,” Harry laughed.  He shook his head when she helped herself to the bacon on his plate. 

“Ooh, Grandmum sent us a little pack of our family garam masala.”  Parvati continued to read the letter.  “She says it’s fine if you learn the recipe, unless you mess it up.  Then you’ll be cursed by our ancestors.”  She looked at Harry.  “I’m pretty sure she’s kidding.”

“Better not mess it up to be on the safe side,” he gulped.  “I got the rest of the ingredients Padma wrote out.  Some were delivered from a grocer that had a mail order list and others I got from the kitchens.”

Lavender clapped her hands with glee.  “This is so exciting!  Can we do it tonight?”

“I’ll check with Padma but I hope so!”  She opened the small packet of potent spices and took a whiff.  “Mmm, it smells like home.”

“Your home smells very nice,” Harry said with a smile when he sniffed delicately from the spice bag.

“Yeah.”  Parvati’s tone became wistful.  “Guess I didn’t know how much I missed it.”

-0-

“I’m sorry, I don’t know if Grandmum is kidding or not,” Padma said seriously.  “She says things like that all the time and she’s a witch too so…”  She shrugged.

“I better not mess it up then,” Harry said in a half-resigned and half-determined tone.

The four of them were in the clubroom and after bringing a few things, Inky said she would be in and out but they could call on her whenever.  They set everything up on the long preparation table and set the pot on the hob, letting it warm.

Padma looked at Harry with interest as he diced the onion.  “Wow, you look like one of our aunties right now.”

“Really?” Harry asked though he kept his eyes on the cutting board as he continued to dice.

“Oh Auntie Anvi,” Parvati said.  “Yeah I agree.  She runs a restaurant where our family lives in India.”

Harry looked up and his eyes sparkled.  “You think so?”

Padma smiled, seeing his joy.  “Yes, she is a very good cook and she’s the fastest chopper and dicer in our family.  Her cooking is really good.  I think the recipe is one of hers actually.”

“What are we making?” Lavender asked as she helped clean things with a combination of water and soap and the Scouring Charm.

“Butter chicken.  That was one of the easier recipes to follow,” Padma said.

“I love butter chicken!” Lavender said brightly.  “I’m so excited and hungry.”

“We’re also going to make roti,” Parvati said as she measured out the ingredients.  “I can make that at least.”

After finishing preparing the ingredients, they clustered around the hob and Harry followed Padma’s instructions as she read from the recipe.  “Too bad we couldn’t get any ghee.  What is ghee by the way?” Harry asked as he dropped butter into the pan.

“It’s clarified butter,” Padma read.  “A different kind of butter.  But regular butter is just fine.”

“Gosh that smells amazing,” Lavender sighed as the onions sizzled in the butter.  After softening and turning translucent around the edges, garlic and ginger was added, making things even more fragrant.   Harry then added the spices, including the Patil family garam masala.  “Okay, now that smells amazing,” Lavender said as the air became aromatic and spicy.

“That smells like home,” Parvati said wistfully.

“It really does,” Padma said softly.

“What kind of spice is garam masala?” Harry asked.  “Sorry for the questions, I really like learning about things like this.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Padma said.  “It’s a mixture of spices.  It means ‘hot’ and ‘spices’ but it’s not always super spicy.  The spices can include cinnamon, peppercorns, coriander seeds, all sorts of things.  But every family has their own mixture and that’s the secret.”

“They’re always debating which one is better,” Parvati said.  “Sometimes they make the same dish but with their own masala mixes and try to say which is better.  It can get pretty heated.”

Padma started giggling.  “One time, one of our uncles tasted a bunch of them and picked one that he thought was his wife’s but he was wrong!”

Parvati laughed.  “Auntie chased him around the house for that!”

At Padma’s direction, Harry added the chicken that had been marinated in yogurt and other spices in small batches.  Once the chicken was cooked slightly, he added the crushed tomatoes and stirred.  “Now we wait for it to mostly finish and then add the cream?”

“That’s it,” Padma said.  She nodded with approval.  “It looks really good.”

While the chicken and sauce simmered, they moved onto the roti.  Bits of flour got everywhere as they stirred water into the flour and a little bit of oil.

“This is a heavy dough,” Harry said as he kneaded it out, rolling the dough with his hands and pressing down with the heels.  “Makes sense if it’s just water and flour though.”

“Use your knuckles too.  Especially if you knead it in the bowl,” Parvati suggested.  She rolled her eyes at Padma’s shocked look.  “I remember some things!”  She and Padma started arguing again.

Lavender nodded reassuringly to Harry.  “Yup, still normal,” she said.

After letting the finally smooth dough rest, they kneaded it once more and portioned it out into small balls that they flattened into round shapes.  Each roti was brushed with butter and then cooked over a skillet on the hob while the butter chicken continued to simmer.

“This looks exactly like it should!”  Parvati took the first completed one and juggled it from hand to hand.  She eagerly tore it into four pieces, hissing slightly as she kept flicking her fingers to keep the tips from burning. 

“It tastes like it should,” Padma gasped as she chewed on the flatbread.  “I didn’t think we’d get it right the first time!”

“It’s a good recipe,” Harry said as he blew to cool the steaming roti.  “It tastes really nice!  Chewy and buttery.  Really simple.”

“You’re an amazing cook,” Lavender said as she nibbled her piece, also blowing on it.

“Let’s wait for the butter chicken first before you say that,” Harry said with a smile and pink cheeks.  He added the cream and stirred the curry, watching the deep red tomato sauce become rosy red.  He scooped up some of the sauce onto a spoon and took an experimental taste.

“Well?” the three girls asked.

“I have no idea if it’s supposed to taste like this but it tastes wonderful,” he said sincerely.

“This is it!” Parvati cried as she tasted it.

“It really is!” Padma agreed.

“This is so much better than the takeaway I’ve had!” Lavender smiled.

Harry poured out bowls of butter chicken and set aside portions for Inky and the other House Elves and Flitwick.  He smiled as he saw the girls digging deep into their bowls, eating with big smiles and evident delight.

“Harry, what are you doing?” Lavender asked, seeing Harry standing further away and eating.  “Come and join us silly.”

“Oh!  Uhm, okay.”  After some hesitation, he moved closer and sat beside them at the table.  Slightly embarrassed he tucked in too and after a moment, the girls resumed eating. 

“Please tell me there’s more,” Parvati said as she wiped up the sauce with a piece of her flatbread.

“Plenty more,” Harry said.  “I’m going to want seconds too.”

“You might want to eat some more roti with it,” Padma said.  “If you haven’t really had curry before and eat too much of it at once, you can get an upset stomach.”

“Oh thanks.  I can’t believe I missed out on curry for so long,” Harry said.

“Curry is pretty popular for British people though,” Lavender said.

“I guess but like I said, the Dursleys never cared for anything they thought was foreign.”

“That’s sad.  I can understand not eating something if you’re allergic but that sounds like a silly reason,” Padma sniffed.

“I think so too,” Harry agreed.

“Do you do this at all your club meetings?” Padma asked.

“We’ve only made muffins and biscuits so far but yeah,” Harry nodded.  “And we sew and learn spells for both things.”

“I have to start coming now,” Padma said.  “I’ve been missing out.”

“I missed out on the first one too,” Parvati said, giving Lavender a look.

“Harry was my friend first,” Lavender said smugly.

“But we’re friends now too,” Parvati said.  “You can be friends with Padma too I guess, if you want.”  She glared at her sister when Padma threw her napkin at her.

“I’d like that a lot,” Harry said sincerely.  “You two are really nice too.”

“Not to each other though,” Lavender giggled when the twins started throwing things at each other.  “Again, perfectly normal.”

Inky and a few other House Elves appeared to help clean up the room.  They eagerly divided their portion of the curry and roti up and ate it, praising Harry and asking him how he made it. 

“You were right,” Padma said, “he is very good.  I’m still really surprised we got it so close to the original, especially since it was his first time making it.” 

“Told you,” Parvati smiled.  “There’s something about his cooking that makes it taste extra good though.  It’s weird, it does taste really close to home.  But different in a nice way.”

“It’s very comforting,” Lavender said.  She liked seeing Harry happy, showing the House Elves what he did.  He looked animated as he talked to the eager Elves. 

After finishing chatting with the Elves, Harry and Lavender and Parvati taught Padma the Scouring Charm to keep up with club appearances.  After some spellwork and some handwashing, they left the club room.  “Thank you so much,” Padma said.  “This was really nice.  I didn’t know how much I missed eating Indian food too.”

“You’re welcome.  Thank you for teaching me,” Harry said.

“We’ll have to get more recipes and bring them here,” Parvati said.  “I’d love to do this more.”

“Me too, and maybe we can learn more stuff together,” Lavender said.

“Yeah, that’d be really great,” Harry sighed happily.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

6^th Course – Hollow Night

“I beg your pardon?”  McGonagall gave Harry her full attention.  When he had approached to ask her a question, she never thought he would ask that.  “You wish to skip the Halloween Feast?”

“Yes Ma’am,” he replied.

She looked at him closely.  He did not look ill, at least to her, but he did seem to be withdrawn and subdued.  “Are you sick or hurt?”

“No Ma’am.”

“Is someone preventing you from wanting to go?”

“No Ma’am.” Not now anyways.

She crossed her arms.  “The Halloween Feast is a long-standing tradition.  Students do not miss it unless they are sick or have committed some grave infraction.  Since you are neither sick nor in trouble, I must ask why.”

“I’ve never liked Halloween,” Harry said at last.  “I'd rather do something else, something I’ve done on Halloween for the last few years.”

“And it cannot be done on any other day?”

“No Ma’am.”

She tried to look stern yet understanding.  “And you do not care to explain more?”

“Not if I have to.  Ma’am.”

She looked at him and while he did not look her back in the eye, he remained resolute.  “I will speak with the Headmaster, but be prepared to attend the feast, Mister Potter.  And he may ask for further clarification.”

Harry sighed softly.  “Yes Ma’am,” he said quietly.

She watched him go, a troubled expression growing on her face.

-0-

“What did she say?” Lavender asked when Harry caught up to her.

“She wouldn’t give me permission,” Harry said.  “Said she’ll talk to the Headmaster, but be prepared to attend.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad?” Lavender suggested.

“Maybe,” he said but did not look convinced.  He looked at her sheepishly.  “I’m sorry.  For not really explaining.  It’s hard to.”

“It’s okay,” she replied and gently patted his arm.  She noticed that he did not seem all that comfortable with things beyond an arm or shoulder pat.  He was growing more comfortable with it however, something she was grateful for, and she tried her best to respect his feelings.  “Explain when you feel comfortable to.” 

“Thanks,” he said gratefully.

“Maybe you are feeling sick though,” she said worriedly.  Harry had looked under the weather the last few days.  “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the Infirmary?”

“I’m sure.  I’m not sick.  I just don’t love Halloween,” he said. 

“You’ll tell me if you are sick though, right?”

“I would,” he said sincerely.  “We’re friends, right?”

She beamed at him.  “We’re friends,” she said firmly.

-0-

“I can’t wait for the feast tonight,” Millicent said.  “I always heard the Halloween Feast is a lot of fun.”  She looked at her friend.  “What about you?”

“I heard it’s fun,” Pansy said without interest.  “It’ll be nice to do something different, I suppose.”

Millicent looked up and down the Slytherin table, making sure everyone else was engrossed in their own conversations.  “Hey, you okay?” she asked softly.

Pansy turned to look at her.  “Yes, why?”

“Just checking.  You’ve been quiet lately.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Pansy said quietly. 

“I can tell, you don’t talk when you think,” Millicent teased.  “What did you say when we were littler?”

“I can’t think and talk at the same time,” Pansy said and a ghost of a smile appeared.  “I think you said that though.”

“Possibly,” Millicent giggled.  Then she sobered.  “It’s good that Draco apologized for pushing you that night.”

The ghost of the smile faded.  “I suppose,” Pansy said.

Millicent waited for Pansy to come to Draco’s defense like she did so many times before, waited for her to vent and rant and complain.  She waited and waited but Pansy did none of those things.  “Share with the class?”

Pansy snorted.  “My personal thoughts?  Never.”

“Share with family?”

“Depends on the family,” Pansy said wryly.

“Share with me?”

Pansy looked at Millicent and her smile was there but only just.  “Eventually.”

“I’ll take it.  Don’t get me wrong, you being quiet has been nice for me too.  I get to think because I have trouble thinking when you’re talking.”

Pansy’s smile got a little stronger.  “Now I remember.  That’s what you said when we were littler.”

“Sounds about right,” Millicent laughed.  She looked at Pansy’s plate.  “You’ve been eating a lot of banana muffins lately.”

“Hmm, I’ve gotten a taste for one, for them,” Pansy murmured.  She looked across the Great Hall at the Gryffindor table.

Millicent followed her gaze.  “Did something happen with Potter?  You’ve been looking at him more often these days.”

“Not that much more,” Pansy demurred and looked back at her plate.

“Okay,” Millicent said and did not press further.  “You’d tell me if he did something right?  So I can go over and kick his arse for bothering my best friend?”

Pansy snorted again.  “I’d tell you,” she said. 

“Because you’re my best friend?”

“And because you’re mine.”  Pansy fiddled with a handkerchief.  “I’ll tell you.  Eventually.  I promise.”

“I know you will.”

Pansy took a deep breath and shivered a little, physically pushing her thoughts and feelings around.  Her smile was still small but it was a touch more open.  “What kind of candy do you think there’ll be tonight?”

Millicent relaxed a little.  She knew Pansy was trying and was not completely past whatever was on her mind but seeing her try made her feel better.

-0-0-0-

“Ah, Mister Potter, a moment of your time.”

Harry saw Dumbledore standing at one end of the hall.  “Yes Sir.”  Waving goodbye to Lavender and Parvati, he walked over. 

“Charms class?  How was it?” Dumbledore asked genially.

“It was okay,” Harry said.  He frowned slightly.  “Had a bit of an incident.  Some of my Housemates weren’t being kind to each other.”

“Nothing too bad I hope,” Dumbledore said, looking mildly concerned.

“I don’t know to be honest,” Harry said with a small shrug.

“Perhaps it will be fixed by the night’s end.  Which leads me to the reason I wanted to speak with you.  Professor McGonagall told me you do not wish to partake in tonight’s feast?”

“Yes Sir.”

“And you are not ill?”

“No Sir.”

Dumbledore looked down at Harry for long moments, saying nothing.  He noticed how Harry looked away, how he fidgeted a little, how he looked withdrawn and weary.  Suddenly, Dumbledore had a thought and he too looked incredibly tired.  “Ah.  Forgive me,” he said softly.  “It is the anniversary, for your parents.”

Harry sighed and nodded.  “Yes Sir.”

“I was unaware you knew,” Dumbledore said sheepishly.

“My aunt told me.”

“She did?”  Dumbledore was even more shocked by that.

“Yes Sir.  She told me my parents died on Halloween.”  Harry bit his tongue to keep him from saying what else Petunia said to him in regards to his parents’ death and the holiday.  “I’ve never liked the day since when she told me and I’d rather not go to the feast if that’s okay.”

“Professor McGonagall mentioned you had something else you do instead?” Dumbledore asked gently.

Harry nodded.  “I’ve done it for the last few years.”  He hesitated.  “I’d like to use the clubroom stove if I could, please.”

Dumbledore remained quiet, stroking his beard in thought.  “I will ask Inky to keep an ear out for you.”

Harry looked at Dumbledore directly, deeply surprised.  “Really?”

“Really.  Do you need anything else?”   

“No Sir, I’ve prepared things for tonight.  I really appreciate it.”

Dumbledore smiled sadly at the small boy.  “You are welcome.”  It was his turn to hesitate.  “I was fortunate to have counted your parents as friends, Mister Potter.  I would like to say, as empty as it sounds, that they would not have wanted you to feel so poorly about this day.  That said, I know the heart will feel how it does and it requires time for things to change.”

“You knew them?” Harry asked, his expression one of deepest yearning.

“I did.  Taught them and remained friends with them after they graduated.  Perhaps one day soon we can spend a bit of time together and I can tell you a few stories.”

“I’d really like that,” Harry whispered.  “Aunt Petunia never told me anything about them.”  Well, nothing good about them.

Dumbledore’s expression fell, as if he heard Harry’s thoughts.  “We will see when we can do that then.  I would be happy to share my memories of them with you.”

-0-

“You are giving him permission to skip the feast?”  McGonagall gave him a strange look.

“I gave him permission, yes,” Dumbledore said mildly.

“And he’s going to be unaccompanied outside the common room?”

“One of the House Elves is going to be near and arrive at a moment’s notice.”

“Mister Potter can be trusted on his own near a stove,” Flitwick said mildly.  “He has proven himself and the castle is made of stone.  It won’t burn up.”

McGonagall frowned at him, unamused.  “I still think it is rather strange.  What reason did he give you?”

Dumbledore looked at her.  “He will not celebrate the day his parents died.”

The room fell completely silent.  Even the fire in the hearth seemed to diminish in volume.

“Oh.”  McGonagall looked down, ashamed.  “How did I not think of that?”

“Because we had the luxury of memory to ease the pain of absence.  We remember the good times while not thinking of the bad,” Dumbledore said gently.  “Harry does not have even that.  I have suggested to him that we can try and find time to share some stories with him.”

“That is a good idea,” Flitwick said softly.  “I’m sorry to say I never thought of it myself.”

“One would think that his guardians would have told him a few things,” Sprout said.

Dumbledore and McGonagall shared a look, hers a touch severe and his a touch resigned.  “I had hopes.  Regardless of that, we can try and fill in the blanks as it were.”

Snape narrowed his eyes at them when he noticed the shared look, but said nothing more.

-0-

“Are you in trouble?” Lavender asked when Harry found her in the common room.

“No, at least I hope not.”  Harry smiled weakly.  “Dumbledore gave me permission to skip the feast.”

“Oh that’s good, right?”

He nodded.  “It’s what I want.”

“Okay, that’s good then.”  Lavender gave him an encouraging smile.

Harry then noticed the looks on her and Parvati’s face.  “I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?”

The two girls looked at each other.  “Uhm, sort of?  Not really?” Parvati said uncertainly.  “I was telling Lavender that I heard Granger crying in the bathroom.  Not in the dormitory one, but one out in the castle.”

“Oh.”  Harry looked out the portrait door. 

“Yeah,” Parvati said sheepishly.  “I gotta go see Padma about something.  I’ll see you at the feast Lavender.  See you after Harry.”  With a wave she left the common room.

“Is she crying about what Ron and Seamus said in Charms?” Harry asked.

“I think so,” Lavender sighed.  “It was rude of them to say that but she does act all swotty and snooty about class and homework.”  She turned to look at Harry.  “What’s that look for?”

“I just know how it feels,” he replied, “hiding in the bathroom and being upset.”

“Oh?” 

He nodded glumly.

Lavender looked down at her lap.  “I guess I do too.”

“When you said you knew how I felt to be picked on?” Harry asked softly, looking at his friend.  “When it was about something you couldn’t control?”

She looked at him in surprise.  “You remembered?”

He nodded again, shyly this time.  “’Course I do.  You’re my friend.”

She beamed at him.  “Thank you.”  Her smile faded a little.  “Yeah, it was…when I was really little, I didn’t have a lot of clothes.  Some girls noticed I wore the same things a lot and they teased me terribly.”  Her eyes popped open when she felt Harry pat her arm.  It was the first time he made that kind of gesture on his own.

“I know what that’s like,” he said and she believed him.  “I grew up wearing hand-me-downs from my cousin and they never fit me either.”

“Did the other kids treat you badly too?” she asked.

“Uhm, more in the sense they didn’t treat me at all, good or bad.  My cousin made sure I never had friends really for a long time.  Or made sure no one was friendly with me.”

She scowled.  “That’s really wrong.”  She huffed.  “At least I had a couple of friends that helped me feel better.”  She patted him back and was glad to see him accept it willingly without any change in expression.  “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly.  “It’s okay now though.  I have you and Parvati and Padma and Hedwig as friends now.  I always wanted friends and now I do.”

“I’m your first friend?” she asked, equal parts happy and saddened by that tidbit of information.

“My first human friend,” he said with a small smile.  “I met Hedwig before you, you see.”

Lavender laughed.  “That’s fine.  I don’t want to fight with Hedwig.”  They sat in companionable silence for long moments, letting the ambient sounds of the common room wash over and around them.

“Can…can I ask you something?” he asked finally.

“Of course.”

“Could you…go talk to her?”

Lavender winced.  “Oh, I don’t know about that.  I mean, I don’t like that she's upset too but she’s a bit…unpleasant.  We don’t really get along.”

“Sorry, I just, you’re right of course,” he said hurriedly.  “That’s asking a lot and I’m really sorry.”

“Why do you want me to go talk to her?” she asked.

“Because I don’t like hearing people cry,” he said.  “And you’re really nice and it’s easy to talk to you and I think she’d appreciate it.”

“Oh.”  Lavender felt very flattered and warm in that moment though she was a little reluctant still. 

Harry saw the conflict on her face.  He took a deep breath.  “I’m not telling you this to guilt you but I trust you.  I’m not going to the feast because my parents died on Halloween,” he said in a rush.  He pressed on, wincing at the look of horror on Lavender’s face.  “When I was little, I wanted to go Trick or Treating like my cousin and my aunt told me that my parents died on Halloween and if I wanted to dress up and eat candy on the day they died, that’d be a strange way to remember them.”

“What?!” Lavender nearly shrieked, covering her mouth with her hands when Harry gave her a panicked look and people in the common room turned to stare at her outburst.  She waited for everyone else to look away before she took her hands away.  “What?!” she hissed.  “That’s.  I.  What?!  How could she say that to you?!”

Harry shrugged weakly.  “Ever since, I never liked Halloween all that much.”

“I don’t blame you.  I’m so sorry,” she said mournfully.

“Please don’t let that keep you from enjoying the feast though,” he said.  “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you before.  I didn’t want to ruin it for you.”

“You didn’t.  I understand.  I just…that’s so wrong.”  She dabbed at her eyes, using the handkerchief Harry made for her.

“I’ve upset you,” Harry groaned.

“I’m upset for you,” she corrected.  “There’s a difference.  Or so Daddy tells me.  That’s what he says for things like this.”  She realized what she said and looked even more horrified.  “Oh God, you just told me your parents died today and I’m talking about my dad, I am so so sorry-

“It’s okay,” Harry interrupted.  “Really, it is.  I didn’t tell you that to guilt you or anything, but, just that I trust you.  I…never told anyone that before.  But you’re really nice to me and a great listener and you shared something very private with me so I wanted to do the same.”

He looked at her directly.  “I won’t push you to talk to her if you don’t want to.  I don’t want to pressure you.  Whatever you want to do.”  He patted her shoulder this time.

She felt a little better.  “I guess I can go try and talk to her but I’m doing it for you.”

“Thank you,” he said gratefully, smiling a little.  “I’ll give you something too after.”

“Because I’m talking to her for you?” she asked cheekily.

“Because you’re my friend and you’re doing something for me,” he said sincerely.

“You’re my friend too,” she replied just as sincerely.

-0-

Hermione continued to sob.  She had lost track of time, hiding in the bathroom.  All she knew was that she ran to the bathroom after Charms class, wanting to be alone in her misery.  The stress from being in a completely new and different environment, being away from her mother and father, keeping up with her studies was eating away at her.  Being yelled at by Seamus and hearing what Ron said after pushed her to the breaking point and she ran away in tears.

She looked up when she heard someone say her name.  “Wh-what?” she said, trying to stifle the sobs and failing.

“Hermione, it’s Lavender.  Are you okay?”

Hermione sniffled and scrubbed at her eyes.  “I-I’m f-fine,” she lied.  “L-Leave me a-alone!”  She looked at Lavender with astonishment when Lavender walked into the bathroom and saw Hermione tucked away in the corner, hiding behind the sink.

“You don’t look fine,” Lavender said apologetically. 

Her already tenuous façade crumbled and her tears ran once more.  “F-Fine!  I’m not!  Are you h-here to laugh at me too?!”

Lavender walked over and sat against the wall beside Hermione.  “No, I’m not.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Talking to you.  What Seamus and Ron said was really rude.  They shouldn’t have said it.”

Hermione stared at her.  “Why didn’t you say that sooner?”

Lavender shrugged.  “I don’t like talking to Seamus, he’s annoying.  And he and Ron are friends.  But I could have said something sooner and I’m kinda sorry I didn’t.”

“Only ‘kinda’?”

Lavender winced.  “Well, I, uh, goodness this is going to be rude too, but you do get kinda snooty about school stuff Hermione.”

Hermione glared at her.  “It’s because we’re in school and we’re here to learn!”

“I know that but you really are intense about it,” Lavender said, holding her hands up in a peaceful gesture.  “Like, super intense about it.”

“That’s not a bad thing!” Hermione protested.

“Not saying it is!  But it’s hard to talk to you sometimes!  You get things so fast and are really smart and when Parvati and I don’t get it, you get this attitude about it.”  She flushed at Hermione’s angry look.  “Sorry, said it’d be rude too.”

“What are you even doing here then,” Hermione spat.  “If that’s how you feel, you can leave me alone!”  She started crying again.  “Just like you and Parvati have all this time.”

“It’s not like we were trying to leave you alone,” Lavender said hurriedly.  “But you’re more interested in school stuff and we aren’t as much.  We tried to include you at first but you didn’t seem to care about what we did either.”

“Of course I’m interested in school stuff, it’s magic!  Magic is incredible and everyone seems to not care about it or take it for granted!”

“Parvati’s whole family are magicals so she’s used to it, she grew up with it.  There was a time I didn’t really know about magic but I learned about it earlier on and got used to it too.  So you’re right, we might take it for granted some.”

Hermione looked away, falling silent.

“We did try to include you,” Lavender repeated.

“I’m not that interested in make-up or clothes or those things,” Hermione muttered.

“That’s fine, but like we aren’t as interested in school stuff so it was hard to talk to you.”  Still hard if I’m being honest, she thought. 

Hermione sighed and deflated.  “That’s…fair.”  She wiped her eyes again.  “I was only trying to help.”

“That’s good but you might want to be a little more…nice about it?” Lavender suggested.

Hermione snorted and regretted doing that.  Lavender reached into a pocket and fished out a handkerchief for Hermione to use, but not the one Harry made.  “Thank you,” Hermione said quietly as she wiped her face.  “I’ll clean it before giving it back.”

“Thank you,” Lavender said awkwardly.

“Why did you come talk to me then?” Hermione asked, looking at her directly.

Lavender took a deep breath.  “Honestly?  Harry asked me to.  He heard that you were crying in here and asked me to talk to you.”

“Why would he care?” Hermione asked, perplexed.

“Because he said he knew what it was like, to hide and be upset by being treated badly by others,” Lavender said with a frown.  The frown melted a little.  “And he reminded me that I knew what it was like too so I came to chat with you.”

“Oh.  That was nice of him,” Hermione said softly.  “And you,” she added awkwardly.  Her confusion returned.  “Why would he know that though?  I’ve read about him.”

Lavender looked at her questioningly.  “You’ve read about him?”

“There’s stuff written about him, the Boy-Who-Lived,” Hermione explained.

“Oh, that’s weird.”  Lavender thought about what Harry told her earlier.  “I don’t know if that stuff is all that accurate about him.”

“Oh.”  Hermione wiped her face again, her sniffling subsiding.  “You said you know what it’s like too?”

“I do.”

“Oh.”

“Mmhmm.”

The silence was soft and less awkward.

“Thank you,” Hermione whispered.

“You’re welcome,” Lavender whispered.

-0-

Harry assembled everything on the preparation table.  After classes had finished, he dropped his things off and went to the clubroom to be alone.  It was a lot easier being alone in the past.  People ignored him during the day and the Dursleys always left him alone after an early dinner so they could eagerly go to their own plans.  All the interactions he had today were a little more tiring, with him mustering up more energy to try and appear normal.

Whatever his version was normal anyways.

Being alone next to the stove in the clubroom was almost soothing to him.  Sure, it was not the kitchen at the Dursleys but it was familiar enough to feel like a return to routine and tradition.  He felt more at ease.  He knew what was to come would be slightly tougher on him but for the moment, he was back in his element.

A week prior, he had begun making preparations for this day, hoping he would have the opportunity to do what he wanted.  It had been tradition the last few years and being able to do it even while in a completely different environment helped him feel better.

He settled the pot on the stove and waited for it to come to temperature.  As it did, he finished preparing the last of the ingredients: beef was chopped and set aside, potatoes and carrots and onion peeled and diced, spices measured. 

He browned the beef chunks and set them aside.  He added the onion to cook in some butter, scraping up the fond left on the bottom of the pot with beef broth once the onions took some color.  He did not use wine, the traditional deglazing liquid.  He did not think he would be allowed any here.  The meat and potatoes and carrots went in with the spices and he brought it to a boil before turning the heat down to let it simmer. 

For the next hour and a half or so, he stirred occasionally and the air took on a savory and meaty smell, one that was both comforting to him as well as melancholic.  He did his homework while the stew simmered and thickened and deepened in both flavor and texture.  The lamp in the room flared into brightness when the sun sank fully behind the horizon, plunging the grounds into darkness.  Other lamps on the walls lit themselves, adding illumination.

He tasted the stew and nodded with approval.  It was savory and had a depth of flavor.  The meat was tender but not toothsome.  The potatoes and carrots were soft but not mushy or crumbly.  It tasted just like it should.  He ladled out a bowl and set it in front of him.  Inky had thoughtfully brought bread and butter for him and while she was busy, she told him to not hesitate if he needed her.

He could still remember the first time he did this.  One of the few pleasant memories he had of cooking with Petunia was her telling him that beef stew was Lily’s favorite.  He went through a phase of cooking it a lot until Petunia and Vernon made him stop, saying they were tired of it. 

While he did make it less, he got into the habit of making it on Halloween, to feel some kind of closeness with the family he lost.  When he learned of the Japanese tradition of making food offerings to passed loved ones in class, it took on a special meaning to him and he did so.  Petunia saw him do it the first time and punished him severely but it did not deter him in the future, he just became circumspect about it.

“Hi Mum, hi Dad,” he whispered out loud to the empty room. 

He waited for an answer that never came.

“I’m at school now, but I was lucky enough to be able to cook tonight,” he went on.  “I was really worried that I wouldn’t be able to.  I'd hate to break our tradition but good thing I didn’t.  Wouldn’t have felt right to me.

“School is going well.  I was really surprised by magic and being a wizard.  But when I learned you two were magicals too it really made me happy.  I felt like we had more in common.”  He snorted softly.  “Well, aside from being parents and child.  But I’m told that I look a lot like you Dad and have your eyes Mum so that’s really cool too.

“Oh and Headmaster Dumbledore said he knew you two.  Said he counted you as friends.  He also said he’d tell me stories about you two so I’m really looking forward to that.  And that you flew a lot Dad and you played Quidditch.  I love flying too!  It’s so much fun.”

A smile grew on his lips.  “Maybe we’re more alike than I thought!”  He turned wistful.  “I hope you and I share stuff too Mum.  Hopefully I’ll learn more about you and can find out.”

He closed his eyes.  “I miss you.”

He started to eat.  The taste of the stew was rich and familiar.  A little different due to the absence of wine that the Dursleys had allowed him to use, but not egregiously different.  Just like before, however, the taste of the stew became slightly saltier as he ate.

Just like before, he ignored the tears that ran down his face as he ate the stew.  He chewed slowly, drawing the bowl of stew out, making it last as long as he could.

-0-

The Great Hall was filled with noise.  The floating candles were replaced by floating jack-o’-lanterns: grinning orange gourds floating and dancing lights giving their smiles and eyes more character.  Violins and cellos played themselves, their strings sang melodies that made the skin crawl and the spine shiver.  The ghosts flew here and there, regaling students with stories that made them gasp and shriek and laugh.

Lavender was enjoying the fun but she found herself wishing that Harry was there.  Hermione had come to the feast with her and while she still looked and acted a little subdued, she was there.  Lavender had a quick whispered conversation with Parvati and the other girl was nice to Hermione, something that Hermione was thankful for.

“Where’s Potter?” Seamus asked, looking around.  “I thought you said he liked candy since he bought a bunch and ate it on the Express.”

Ron shrugged.  “I don’t know.”

“I’m not surprised,” Hermione said softly.  She colored when people looked at her.  “Why he isn’t here.”

“Yeah?  Why?” Seamus asked.

She pointedly looked away from him.  “I’m just a know-it-all, aren’t I?”  That made Seamus and Ron turn red and the others giggle and chuckle.

“Because it’s Halloween,” Neville said quietly.

“Yeah?  Obviously,” Seamus snorted.

“Oh no,” Parvati gasped.  She looked stricken.  “No wonder he looked upset today.  I didn’t think about it.” 

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“His parents died on Halloween,” Parvati said very quietly.  A pall fell over the table.  The first year Gryffindor students looked at each, save for Hermione and Lavender and Neville.

“He wouldn’t want us not to enjoy the feast,” Lavender said, trying to sound bright despite not feeling it.  “Well, he told me that but he probably wouldn’t want you others to not enjoy it so yeah.”  After another moment of quiet, they went back to eating and the atmosphere of the feast washed over them once more. 

“Did he tell you?” Parvati whispered.

Lavender nodded, a little glum.  “Earlier.”

“Poor Harry.  We’ll try to cheer him up tomorrow,” Parvati said.

Lavender smiled a little.  “That’ll be nice.  We still have club this week too.”

Parvati nodded.  She looked across the hall for a moment.  “Say, have you noticed Parkinson looks over at us more lately?”

“Actually I have.”  Lavender peeked across the hall and watched Pansy talking to Millicent, noticing how Pansy glanced over at the Gryffindor table.  “I wonder why.  Probably trying to think of other rude things to say.”  She munched on a biscuit.  “Hmm.  Now that I think about it, she hasn’t been all that rude to us in class for a bit.  Not like the beginning of the year.”

“You think so too?  I thought I was so used to it I started noticing it less,” Parvati said and the girls snickered.  “I wonder what’s going on.”

“Who knows,” Lavender said.

-0-

Lavender had hoped Harry would be in the common room when the Gryffindors returned to the tower but he was not.  She thought about waiting or going to his dormitory but decided against it.  When she walked into the dormitory that she and Parvati and Hermione shared, she noticed something sitting on her nightstand.

She lifted the metal cloche and she saw a small mug of stew there.  It was still somehow warm and she breathed deep of the sudden release of savory meat and vegetables.  Despite eating her fill at the feast, her stomach grumbled a little, wanting more. 

A scrap of parchment sat beneath the mug and she pulled it out to read it. 

Lavender,

Inky delivered this for me.  She said she will keep it warm for you too. 

Thank you for everything.  You’re the best.

Your friend,

Harry.

With a wide smile she put the cloche back on over it, hoping that it would stay warm.  She hurriedly got ready for bed and once she was, she pulled the curtains closed around her and held the still warm mug in her hands.  The first bite of the stew filled her with warmth.  The meat fell apart between her teeth and the vegetables were soft but still had their form.  The savory broth was rich and hearty and comforting.

“Mmm,” she hummed happily.

She finished every single bite and drop of the beef stew and as she fell asleep, she thought of how happy she was that Harry was her friend.  Her eyelids closed and she slept peacefully, warm and content.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

7^th Course – Understanding

Lavender smiled brightly when she saw Harry sitting in the common room as she descended the stairs.  “Hi Harry!”

Harry looked up and smiled softly.  “Morning Lavender.  How was the feast?”

She sat beside him on the couch.  “It was fun.  Would have been more fun with you.”  She patted his hand.  “Not to make you feel bad, just saying I missed you there.”

“Oh?  That’s so nice of you to say.”  He looked embarrassed and happy in equal measure.  “I’m glad you had fun.”

“How are you feeling?” she asked, peering at him closely.

“I feel okay,” he said truthfully.  “I slept alright surprisingly.”

“That’s good.  Oh, the stew was so good, thank you so much.”

He brightened.  “You liked it?”

“It was delicious,” Lavender said emphatically. 

“I’m glad,” he beamed.

“Hi Harry,” Parvati greeted after walking up to them.  “I saved some candy for you from the feast last night.”  She gave him a bag of brightly colored candies.

“Hey, some of those are ones I saved for him,” Lavender protested.

“And I’m giving them to Harry,” Parvati said smugly.  “To prove I’m the better friend.”  She ducked when Lavender threw a couch pillow at her.

Harry laughed.  “Thanks, you two, I really appreciate it.  Shall we go to breakfast?”

“We’re waiting for Hemione, if that’s okay,” Parvati said.

“That’s fine,” Harry said, pleasantly surprised.  He smiled at Lavender.  “You talked to her?”

“I said I would for you,” Lavender said primly.  “She’s not actually that bad.  We reached an understanding and we’re going to try and be friendlier with each other.”

“That’s really good,” Harry said.

Hermione came down the steps.  “Morning,” she said.  “Thank you for waiting.”  After the quartet left the tower and were on the way to the Great Hall, she awkwardly cleared her throat.  “Thank you, Harry,” she said.  “For asking Lavender to talk to me.”

“You’re welcome.  I’m glad you guys talked,” Harry said.

“Yes, it was nice,” Hermione said.

They sat at the Gryffindor table and breakfast appeared before them.  They started serving themselves and the morning owls came flying in, filling the air with the sound of hooting and barking and flapping wings.  Hedwig circled in and landed in front of Harry.  She looked at him carefully before nuzzling his face with hers, cooing softly.

“Good morning to you too,” he smiled and rubbed her head.  He fed her bacon after she finished her nuzzling and she sat beside him at the table, pressing herself against one arm.

“She’s really affectionate today,” Parvati said.

“I’m not complaining at all,” Harry said happily. 

Hermione was the first to finish and left for the library, needing to do something before their first class.  Parvati watched her go.  “I have to introduce her to Padma.  I bet those two would get along.”

“I’m honestly a bit surprised she didn’t get sorted into Ravenclaw,” Lavender said.  “Don’t they love to read and study too?”

“I don’t think she’d have it any better,” Parvati said frankly.  “Padma says it’s pretty cold in Ravenclaw.  They like to debate and talk about theory and studies and stuff but it’s super cliquey and not terribly friendly.”

“The Hufflepuffs look pretty close most of the time,” Harry mused, looking over at their table.  “They’re pretty friendly in class I think.”

“More friendly than the Slytherins, that’s for sure,” Lavender sniffed.  “They’re mostly so rude and you can see them separate themselves into groups at their table too.”

“Do you think the Sorting Hat puts all the rude people in Slytherin for convenience’s sake?” Parvati whispered and giggled.

“No, because then Seamus would be there too,” Lavender said.  She and Parvati erupted into even louder giggles and even Harry fought hard to join them, but he smiled broadly alongside.  When Lavender looked at the Slytherin table, she saw someone looking back at them for a moment.  “She’s looking over again.”

“Hmm, I’m really curious why,” Parvati said as peeked over at the other table.

“Who?” Harry asked.

“Parkinson,” Lavender and Parvati said.

When Harry looked over, Pansy looked away.  “Oh, she might be looking at me.”

“Probably trying to help Malfoy mess with you then,” Parvati sniffed.

“I don’t know,” Harry hummed.  “I gave her a muffin after our club that night.”

“You gave Parkinson one of your muffins?” Lavender asked, surprised.  “Why?”

“I found her by the Owlery.  She was crying,” he replied.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you don’t like hearing people cry,” Lavender said.  “To be nice to her when she’s been so rude to you.”

Harry shrugged sheepishly.  “She sounded and looked really upset.”

“Do you think that’s why she’s been less rude to us lately?” Parvati asked.

“I don’t know,” Harry said honestly.  “I’ll take it though.  Malfoy is plenty rude.”

“That’s like saying water’s plenty wet,” Parvati snorted. 

“Or that Hedwig’s feathers are very soft and pretty,” Lavender smiled as she watched Hedwig pull a piece of bacon off her plate.

Hedwig cheeped thickly with agreement; her beak full of bacon.

-0-

Harry popped another piece of candy into his mouth as he continued to write.  It was breezy and chilly outdoors but he wanted to enjoy the sunshine while it lasted.  The library or the common room would have been much warmer but the cold air was nice in its way.  He knew with winter rapidly approaching, the days would be cold and dismal so the sunlight was welcome.

He saved the wrappers of the candies.  He liked the varieties of candies that he had tried so far.  They were so different compared to Muggle candy.  Not just the obviously magical ones like the bubbles blown from gum that floated through the air or the candies that made your ears smoke and turn bright red.  Even the small wrapped chocolates tasted incredibly different.  Some more so than others.

“Hey, Potter.”

He looked up and saw Pansy standing there.  He hurriedly swallowed the chocolate and coughed a little.  “Hi,” he said back. 

She looked at him, her face a mixture of curiosity and reluctance.  She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she finally spoke once more.  “Thank you.  For the muffin and the handkerchief.”  She held her hand out and revealed the handkerchief.  “I’ve been meaning to give this back.”

“Oh, you’re welcome.  You can keep it if you like.  It’s my first time sewing in a really long time so it’s a bit rough,” he said awkwardly.

She closed her hand around it.  “Thank you,” she repeated.  She coughed and cleared her throat.  “The muffin was really good.”

“I’m glad,” Harry said, his happiness at her words making his awkwardness at her words fade just a little.

“You really made it?” she asked.

“Yup, in Household Charms club.”

“So you really do know how to cook?”

He nodded.

“Huh.  Why?”

“It was a chore but I came to really like cooking,” Harry said.

She blinked at him.  “You did chores?”

He blinked back.  “Yeah.  Always did, as long as I could remember.”

“Oh.”  She looked very confused.  “You didn’t grow up in a magical family?”

Harry shook his head.  “I didn’t even know about magic until like a week or so before school started.”

She stared at him with disbelief.  “How did you make the muffins then?”

“By hand without magic.  Like I always have.  I’m starting to learn a few charms and things that can help in club but I’ve always cooked without magic.”

“I can’t believe that,” she said with wonder.

He frowned slightly.  “I’m not lying.  Like I wasn’t lying about knowing how to cook.”

Pansy colored a little, feeling slightly shameful for some reason.  “I didn’t mean to call you one.  It’s just hard to believe.”

“Okay,” he replied and the awkwardness returned in full.

“Were…were you really nice to me because I was crying?” she whispered.  When he nodded, she looked at him directly.  “Why?  When I helped Draco be mean and rude to you.  You could have just ignored me.”

“Because you looked so upset,” he said, rubbing his neck.  “I really don’t like hearing people cry and yeah you weren’t nice but it doesn’t do to hit someone when they’re down.”

“I’ve heard my father say that’s when it’s easiest to hit someone,” Pansy said dryly.

“I guess?” Harry said, unable to keep his voice from rising in a concerned lit that made Pansy giggle.  She looked shocked that she did that in front of him and he looked equally shocked.  “In any case yeah, I could have ignored you but it would’ve bothered me.  If I could help but didn’t, that would upset me.”

“Oh,” she said quietly.  “Uhm, thank you.”  She looked like she was about to say something else before deciding against it.  “I’ll…talk to you another time,” she said.  “Bye.”  She turned and walked away.

“Bye,” Harry said after.  He watched her walk into the castle, disappearing from sight.  “That was weird,” he muttered to himself.

-0-

“That’s weird,” Lavender said, after Harry had told her what happened that afternoon.  “I still can’t believe that you did that for her.  I mean I can, you’re really sweet, but she was awful to you for weeks.”

Harry shrugged.  “Guess you had to be there to see how bad she looked.”

“I guess,” Lavender said.  She smiled mischievously.  “So if it was Seamus or Draco that was sobbing up a storm, would you be nice to them?”

“Gosh, that’s a tough question,” Harry laughed.  “Not for Draco.  He’s been the absolute worst of the two, three if you count Parkinson.  He’s just incredibly unpleasant.  Since I met him on the train.”

“Oooh, you met him on the train first?” she asked interestedly.

“Yeah, came barging into the compartment, insulted Ron, told me I could do better and said he’d help me figure out the right sort of people,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.

Lavender stuck her tongue out and made retching sounds.  “Ugh, what a prat,” she groaned.  “What did you say?”

“I said I wasn’t interested and he said I’d regret it.”  Harry shrugged again.  “I’m still waiting to be honest.  To regret it I mean.”

“You’ll probably be waiting for a long time for that,” Lavender sniffed, giggling when Harry chuckled.  “Well I guess I don’t have to worry.”  She smiled at him when he looked at her with confusion.  “If I’m ever terrible to you and get really upset, you’d still help me,” she teased.

Harry laughed at that.  “I don’t think you’d ever be terrible to me,” he said with complete confidence.

The firm belief in his words made her feel warm and happy.  “I’ll try my best not to,” she said, making him laugh again.  “There you are,” she said as Parvati and Padma approached.  She and Harry had been waiting in the castle foyer for them. 

“Padma was taking forever,” Parvati complained.

“I was finishing homework,” Padma said severely.  “Since we’re going to do club things.  Did you finish yours?”

“Mostly,” Parvati said evasively.  “Don’t you two snitch on me,” she said, glaring at Lavender and Harry.

“I know she did her Potions essay,” Harry said.

“Thank you, Harry.  See?” Parvati preened.

“Oh okay, that’s good then,” Padma said, impressed.

“Only because Harry helped us both with the essay,” Lavender smiled.

“Oh really?” Padma said, giving her twin a look.

“I hate you,” Parvati said, pushing Lavender as they walked down the hall together.

“So that’s what it looks like,” Padma said with amusement, watching Parvati and Lavender squabble.  “She rarely argues and fights with our cousins, saves the most of it with me and now with Lavender.  Thank goodness.”

“Hello everyone,” Flitwick said as they entered the classroom.  “Good to see you all.”  He looked delighted to see Padma.  “And our little club grows!  Wonderful, wonderful.  Oh and thank you for sharing the spices with us.  That butter chicken you made together was very delicious.”

“Oh I meant to tell you that Grandma said good job,” Parvati said.  “She also said you won’t be Cursed now.”

“Thank goodness,” Harry said with naked relief.

Flitwick laughed when they explained the statement and Harry’s relief.  “What are we in the mood for this time?” he asked.

“I’m in the mood for some twice-baked potatoes,” Harry said. 

“Isn’t that just a burnt potato?” Parvati asked.

Harry laughed.  “No, you bake a potato then take out the insides and mash it, then add more stuff to it and bake it again.”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” Lavender said.  “But it sounds good!”

“Oh!  In that case, there is a spell for that,” Flitwick said excitedly.  “I picked up a book on magical cookery and lo and behold, there is a Potato Mashing Charm.”

“Really?  That’s so…mundane,” Padma said, surprised. 

“Many a charm was created to do something mundane,” Flitwick said sagely.  “Magicals, by and large, are dreadfully lazy.”  He grinned while the students laughed at the statement frankly said.  “Many spells were created for convenience's sake.  You would be surprised at what exists and for what.  In fact, there is a spell to do up the laces on your shoes with variance for tightness and even right versus left.”

Like the other times, they split up at first.  Lavender had a new project in mind and she was soon sewing away industriously while Parvati asked Flitwick a few questions.  Inky brought the things Harry asked for and she and Padma helped Harry with cooking.  When the potatoes had baked enough to have soft insides, Harry took them out of the oven and scooped out the steaming hot potato, leaving the skin intact.

Flitwick then taught them the Potato Mashing spell, and their first attempts sent potatoes flying everywhere.  With a laugh, he gathered all the bits of errant potato and they worked together to learn the charm properly, watching the contents become smooth and lump-free.  “Remember!  Too much magic is just as ruinous as not enough in some cases,” he said broadly.

“Why are you doing some by hand?” Padma asked.

“We’ve been trying something out,” Harry explained as he mashed a bowlful of potato with a wooden spoon.  “We’ve discovered that some batches taste different and we’re trying to figure out why.  So far the only difference between the different batches is some have had magic to prepare steps and others didn’t.”

“Ooh interesting,” Padma said. 

He mixed cheese, salt, pepper, and butter into the mashed potatoes and started refilling the skins with them. 

“Oh that looks good already,” Lavender said.  “Parvati!”

“What?!” the girl said defensively, licking her lips.

“Don’t eat from the bowl like that,” Lavender laughed.

“She does it at home too,” Padma sighed.

“So do you!”

The refilled potatoes were popped back into the oven and soon the air was rich with the scents of butter and cheese mingled pleasantly with the earthy potato.  When they came out, they steamed.  Flecks of black pepper dotted the creamy potato filling that was laced with strands of melting yellow cheese.  They were topped with dollops of sour cream and a bit more butter and Harry offered a small pile of chopped chives.  “Careful, the potatoes will be super hot,” he warned.  Each person took a half of the first batch.

“It’s like better mashed potatoes,” Lavender said, fanning her mouth.  “Not as creamy as some I’ve had but the melted cheese is wonderful with it!”

“And you still get the nice crisp jacket outside,” Padma said as she chewed blissfully.  “This is great!”

“Mmm,” Flitwick agreed.  “Well worth the effort when you want something a bit more than a standard jacket potato.”

After they finished the first ones, they started eating the second ones.

“Oh wow, there is a difference,” Padma said.  “This is still amazing but you can tell there’s a difference.”

“The texture is pretty similar,” Parvati said as she chewed slowly.  “Not quite the same but there’s something else going on.”

“Everything else is the same,” Harry muttered to himself.  “I weighed out the cheese and butter and even the salt and pepper.”

“Is it just me, or does it taste even more different?” Lavender asked.

“What do you mean?” Padma said.

“For the biscuits and the muffins, they tasted different but not too different.  These definitely taste more different.”  She frowned.  “It’s hard to explain.”

“Wait, I think I get what you mean,” Parvati said.  “And I agree, there’s more of a difference between these two.”

“And the only difference is that one had a spell used and the other didn’t?” Padma asked. 

Lavender nodded.  “Mmhmm.  The last two things, Harry cast the mixing spell to mix the dough.”

“And everyone cast the mashing spell today…”  The students turned to look at Flitwick.  The professor’s forehead was furrowed and he was looking at the potatoes.  He jumped up suddenly.  “I got it!  I think I understand why we taste a difference in things!”

“Really?” they cried.

Flitwick clapped his hands excitedly.  “Yes!  Oh my, it’s rather obvious if you think about it.  I just never have in this connotation before!”  He spread his arms wide.  “We are tasting the magic!”

Harry, Lavender, Parvati, Padma looked at each other.  “You can taste magic?” Harry asked.

“Apparently!”  He was bouncing up and down on his feet.  “This is a bit above your school level but you will come to learn that every magical’s magic has a distinct signature.  Much like when you sign your name with quill and ink.  It is yours, specific to you.  Granted there are means to mimic and forge it, but you can tell the differences if you try hard enough.”

He started pacing, like he did during class when he was lecturing.  “Now you all have learned the Wand-Lighting Charm, yes?  Splendid.  Please, would you all cast it?”

The four students readied their wands and with incantations of “Lumos,”, four wands were lit.  Flitwick cast his own and held his wand up.  “Now see between the five of us, there are some differences, right?”

“Mine is a lot brighter,” Lavender said.  “Parvati’s is a little blue and not as bright.  Padma’s is a little yellow and not as bright either.  Harry’s looks focused, like a point.”  She looked at Flitwick’s.  “And yours is really focused.”

“Now granted I have had many more years of practice than all of you combined.  As you mature and become more adept, your spells will change a little here and there but your casting of the charm will be different than someone else’s, as we see.”  He waved his wand and with each flick, the light changed subtly but noticeably.  “I’m still casting the Wand-Lighting Charm but as you see, I can change the intensity and the shape and the hue somewhat.”

After they cancelled the spell with a chorus of “Nox,” he continued.  “And that can apply to almost every spell.  I know that my warming spell will feel a bit different than say the Headmaster’s, and it will be different from when you all learn to cast it.”

He beamed.  “Therefore, if we can see a difference in magic, feel a difference, and I imagine once we learn ones that make noise they will sound different, so why not taste?  We just never thought of it before because we had no need to or no opportunity.”

He gestured at Inky who had been watching and listening while munching on her potato.  “House Elves have their own form of magic, much like other magical beings.  So that would be why when she makes food with her magic, it would taste different compared to other House Elves.  Isn’t that so, Inky?”

Inky nodded.  “Some Elves make some foods taste better, so they make them more.  Not Inky though, Inky is good at almost all foods.”

“So when I did that second batch of biscuits and they tasted…less different, same as the muffins…” Harry said slowly.

“You were practicing the mixing spell,” Flitwick finished.  “The more you practiced, the better you got at it.  So we were tasting less of the magic, and more of your cooking.”  He rubbed his chin.  “Your skill in cooking is undeniable, that is why we heartily enjoy it without the spells.  But with the spells, it adds a dimension that is a new factor.”

“That’s why magical foods taste so different to me!” Harry exclaimed.  “I’ve noticed that!”

“Indeed!”  Flitwick smiled.  “You have a palate from your cooking that most of your peers do not, so you were able to notice it much sooner than others.  For those of us who have grown-up and lived in the magical world for so long, we rarely have the exposure to food that hasn’t had magic in it in some way, shape, or form.”

“Why haven’t Muggleborns noticed it?” Padma wondered.

“Muggleborns are still magical folk,” Flitwick mused.  “So to them, the magic is welcome I imagine.  Goodness me, the avenues for exploration are myriad in this.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said weakly.

“For what?”  Flitwick smiled broadly.  “The sheer amount of testing and experimenting and things we can explore and discover is incredible!”

“Oh, that’s good,” Harry said sheepishly, making the girls giggle.  “I just felt like I should apologize for something.”

“Not for this, you shouldn’t,” Flitwick soothed.

-0-

“What’re you thinking about?” Lavender asked.

After they finished up with the club, Parvati, Lavender, and Harry had returned to the common room in Gryffindor tower.  They sat together at one of the small desks against the wall to finish homework together.  Harry had been looking out the window, staring at the ground under cover of night silently.

“That magic is interesting,” he said slowly.  “I never thought that you could literally taste magic.  That’s wild to me.”

“Yeah, same,” Parvati said.  “And I grew up in a magical household.  I’m going to have to pay attention when I go home.  I know some in my family cook with spells and some don’t.  I want to see if I notice a difference.”

Harry looked down at his hands.  “Now I’m wondering if my cooking is only good because of magic.”

“It’s not,” Lavender said firmly.  “I’ve had your biscuits that you’ve made without using magic and they taste wonderful and all the other things you’ve cooked without magic are delicious too.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Parvati said.

“And you using magic to make them doesn’t make them less delicious,” Lavender continued, “just different.  Your food tastes good because you’re good at it.”

“Yeah and didn’t the professor say that spells were made to make things easier?  When you’re cooking without them, you’re working hard and it shows,” Parvati said.

Harry smiled bashfully.  “Thanks.  It really makes me happy and feel better to hear you two say that.”

“We won’t lie to you,” Lavender said, smiling back.

“I might fib a little,” Parvati said.  She flushed at Lavender’s angry look.  “Only on certain things like if you’re wearing something you like and I don’t think the color suits!  Not on actually important things!”

“I knew you were lying when you said you liked my shirt!” Lavender cried.

“Fib!  Not lie!”

Harry’s laughter broke up the argument.

“Fine, I won’t lie to you,” Lavender huffed.

“I won’t lie or fib when it comes to cooking and food!” Parvati sniffed.

Harry sat back, smiling as he listened to his two friends bicker amicably, feeling just a bit better. 

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

8^th Course – Questions and Answers

The club classroom was warm and rich in scents and laughter.  The wind howled outside, snow and chill doing their best to break through the castle stones and bother the people within.  The stove working overtime kept it at bay, as did the chatting and feelings of happiness of the people inside.

“I’ve always wanted to bake biscuits for the holidays,” Parvati said.  “It always seemed fun.”

“What do you do normally?” Harry asked.

“Mostly cakes and other traditional desserts and dishes,” Padma said.  “We visit with family, like visit ones we normally only see for trips and special occasions.”

“But now I can prove I can bake,” Parvati said smugly.  “And fully intend on making them eat their words and my biscuits.”

“You better not take any of Harry’s to pass off as your own,” Padma warned.  “I can taste the difference.”

Ever since they learned that magic had a possible impact on food, they made things together, sometimes with magic and sometimes without.  They, including Flitwick, were delighted to discover that they could taste subtle yet distinct differences when magic was involved.  They all regularly agreed that Harry was still the best of them and could easily tell when he made something, with and without magic.

Harry regularly cooked without magic however.  He still learned the spells that Flitwick came up with and found, and liked practicing them.  He was getting much better with the Scouring Charm for example.  Yet since learning that magic could change things, he wanted to ensure that his skill in cooking did come from his practical efforts.  He secretly found it more satisfying but enjoyed using a spell here and there.

“I’ll make sure you don’t do that either,” Parvati said and she and her twin glared daggers at one another.  “What do you do, Lavender?” she asked.

“My grandmum is a great cook so we usually go to her,” Lavender said.  “She almost always has things ready before we get there so she can spend more time with us so we don’t cook with her much.  I’m hoping to do something with her this year though!  I never found cooking all that interesting until now and I want to cook with her.”

She fluttered her eyelashes at Harry.  “It’s all your fault if you were wondering.”

He grinned.  “Sorry,” he said, not meaning it.

She giggled.  “What about you?”

Harry released a deep breath.  “My aunt and uncle normally hosts dinner parties for the holidays, with an especially big one for Christmas.  I made the food for them.”

“All of them?” Padma asked, frowning. 

Harry nodded.  “They liked having guests and being sociable.”

“They didn’t help you?” Parvati asked, frowning identically.

“No, it was my responsibility and duty,” Harry said, mixing another batch of biscuit dough.  “I’m pretty good at it.  People loved going to the parties and looked forward to them all year.”

“You are a really great cook,” Lavender said, looking at Harry closely.  “Is it not happening this year?”

He shook his head.  “I sent them a message the other day, asking what the themes of the party were and asking for details so I could prepare.  Turns out someone else is hosting the parties this year because I left them for school and they’re going on a trip for the other part of the holidays.  So I’m not needed to come home.”

“Not…needed?” Lavender looked troubled and the twins shared the look.  “That’s…that’s not very nice.”

Harry shrugged, not meeting their gazes.  “It’s okay.  It’ll be the first holiday that I can remember where I’m not responsible for cooking everything.  I’ll have a lot of time off for the first time.  I get to see what it’s like,” he joked feebly.

“You’ll be here by yourself?” Parvati asked quietly.

He looked up and noticed their expressions.  “I’ll be fine,” he said hurriedly.  “The professors will be here of course and I’ll have Hedwig.  I’ll have plenty of time to do homework and I might even do a little extra.”  He smiled.  “Maybe I can beat Padma’s marks.”

That made them smile and giggle, alleviating some of the tension.  “Maybe you might even beat Hermione’s,” Padma smiled.

“He’d have to study all the time and not cook at all,” Parvati said.  “Are good marks worth that?”

“Please don’t do that,” Lavender begged.  “I’d miss your food so much.  And your company.”

“Good to know,” Harry said, wiping his brow with faux-relief.  After he left to use the restroom, the girls looked at each other.

“He doesn’t talk about his home life much, does he?” Padma asked quietly.

Parvati shook her head.  “He changes the subject now that I think about it.  He likes hearing about ours but…” 

Lavender sighed.  “From what I’ve heard, I don’t blame him for not saying anything.  It doesn’t sound very pleasant.”

“Should we do something?” Padma asked.

Parvati shrugged helplessly.  “Like what?”

“I have no idea,” Padma admitted, mirroring the gesture.

“Well, he’s been slowly opening up more,” Lavender said.  “Let’s just be there for him like he does for us and we can hopefully help when and how we can.”

“That’s a good idea,” the twins said together and looked at each with surprise.

“You two just did a Weasley twins,” Lavender giggled.  The giggles became laughter when the girls made identical faces of disgust.  “You did it again!”

Harry walked back in and stopped.  Flour and other things were strewn about and Lavender was being chased by a vengeful pair of twins.  “Uh, what did I miss?”

Lavender ran to him and hid behind him.  “I made an innocent comment and they attacked me!”

“She compared us to the Weasley twins!” Padma said loudly.

“And you got flour and sugar into my hair!” Lavender shouted back.

“I’ll get more than that in more than your hair!  Come here!”  Parvati chased after Lavender who ran squealing.

“I’m not cleaning this up!” Harry smiled and shouted.

-0-

Harry was sitting in front of the fire in the common room.  He was the only person from Gryffindor that stayed at Hogwarts for the holiday.  Being the only person in the tower was a novel experience for him.  It was so quiet when the tower was usually never quiet except for the middle of the night.  Even then, there was sometimes some noise due to something or someone.

It had been a very long time since he was perfectly alone like this.  Even in the days of cooking all day in the kitchen at Number 4 Privet Drive, Petunia was somewhere in the house, if not Vernon or Dudley as well.  He could still remember a time where he was kept somewhere out of the way, in darkness and silence, but that thankfully was a very long time ago.  The silence of the tower was almost enough to be familiar, however, though luckily the large open space kept him from feeling exactly like he did back then. 

The crackling fire helped a lot too.

He looked up when the door to the common room opened.  His confusion grew when Dumbledore came walking in.  “Oh, hello Headmaster.”

“Hello Mister Potter,” Dumbledore said warmly.  He looked about the common room fondly.  “It is good to see the old common room once more.  I was in Gryffindor when I was a student here.”

“Really?”

He nodded.  “Yes, many many years ago.”  He frowned a little.  “The décor has not changed since then.  I am unsure if that is a good thing or not.”  He smiled when he saw Harry smile.  “How are you doing, enjoying yourself?”

“Yes Sir.  I’m usually spending most of the day and night cooking or shopping or cleaning for the holidays.  Being able to relax like this is very nice,” Harry said sincerely.

A flicker of a frown flashed over Dumbledore’s face but it dissipated swiftly, as if it never appeared before at all.  “Well, it is good to recuperate over a holiday,” he said instead, smiling warmly once more.  “Now, I have a bit of a gift for you.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to, Sir,” Harry said, embarrassed.

“Ah but I wanted to,” Dumbledore assured him.  “First, you are allowed to visit the kitchens and cook with Inky and the other House Elves.”  He enjoyed the gigantic smile that appeared on Harry’s face.  “Actually, they have asked me and are rather insistent.  My tea time treat hangs in the balance it seems.”

“Extra jam and cream, right?”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore chuckled.  “Now mind you, I do not want you spending all day and night in the kitchens.  As in all things, moderation is good, notwithstanding my excessive tea time condiments.”

Harry snickered.  “Yes Sir, thank you.”

“Splendid.  I would also like to offer a time where we can meet.  I believe I made a promise to share stories with you about your parents.”

“Oh, yes please,” Harry said earnestly.

“Wonderful.  How about tomorrow then?  During tea time?”  At Harry’s eager nods he smiled.  “I will see you then.  Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Could Hedwig be in the tower too?” Harry asked after a moment’s thought.  “I promise to clean up after her.”

“That will be fine,” Dumbledore said.

-0-

“Welcome in,” Dumbledore said, opening the door and smiling at Harry.  He gestured to his office.  “Make yourself comfortable.”

Harry looked around the office with interest, carrying a tray with both hands.  The space was large and warm.  A very large hearth sat against the wall with a very large fire crackling within.  There were many bookshelves.  Some were crammed full of books and others held all sorts of things that he did not recognize.  Dumbledore’s desk was very large, made from dark wood and polished to a shine.  Large windows showed the grounds behind him and the falling snow made the room feel even cozier.

“Goodness, that looks quite the treat,” Dumbledore said, looking at the laden tray.  “Much fancier than my usual.”

“I went to the kitchens and made most of it,” Harry explained.  “Mince pies, blueberry and cranberry scones, ginger cake, bread and butter, egg salad sandwiches, and bacon sandwiches.  And of course, extra jam and cream.”

“You spoil me,” Dumbledore said with wonder.  “Thank you very much.”

“It’s Christmas Tea,” Harry said, blushing faintly with pride and pleasure.  “I’ve made a lot like this but this time I’m eating it with someone and getting to hear stories.  I was happy to.”

“Then have a seat and help yourself,” Dumbledore said, once again filing a bit of information away.  He poured out fragrant tea for the both of them and sat back and looked at an empty stand beside him.  “And let us see, three, two, one-“

Harry jumped in his seat when a burst of light and fire erupted over the stand.  When the fire subsided, a large handsome bird sat there.  Orange and red and yellow feathers seemed to constantly shift in hue and intensity and the bird looked down a long yellow beak with bright dancing eyes.  He sang out a note of sweet music that warmed Harry like a cup of tea did.

“Mister Potter, meet Fawkes.  Fawkes, Mister Potter.  He is my phoenix familiar, a dear friend and companion.  He’s been a fan of your cooking actually.  Had your biscuits and since then has been trying to get me to ask for more,” Dumbledore said with twinkling eyes.

“Oh, nice to meet you.  Glad you liked them.”  Harry put a bit of everything on a plate and put it in front of Fawkes.  “Here you go.” 

Fawkes sang again and then fell to with a will, chomping noisily on the food.

“Graceful in many things,” Dumbledore chuckled, “not so in table manners I am afraid.  Then again, I am tempted to do the same with the food you have provided.”  He bit into a bacon sandwich.  “Exquisite.  You baked the bread as well?”

“Yes Sir,” Harry said proudly.

“Simply wonderful.  Did you use magic to mix or prepare anything?”

“No Sir, not for these.  Did Professor Flitwick tell you about that?”

“He did and I am equally excited to learn about it more.  It opens so much more to magical theory and it is rather exciting.”  Dumbledore took a sip of tea.  “But we can save academia for another time.  Now then, may I ask what you do know of your parents?”

“Nothing really,” Harry said, munching on a sandwich.  “Only that my father’s name was James and my mother’s name was Lily.  And they died on Halloween.  Though I’ve learned he flew and played Quidditch from you.  And people have said I look like him but my eyes are like hers.”

Dumbledore sighed internally.  People in the Wizarding World of Britain knew more about the boy’s parents than Harry did.  It was a shame and he shamefully played a small part in that.  No time to fix it like the present at least, he thought. 

“James Potter was a good person,” he said.  He smiled when he noticed Harry leaning in.  “Talented in transfiguration, loyal to his friends…” his eyes twinkled a little, “and I do tell you this with some reluctance but quite the troublemaker.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes.  You see, he was the only son of a family that was a well known family in our Wizarding World and society.  And he let it get to his head a bit.”  Dumbledore shook his head and chuckled.  “He had a bit of a tongue on him and was never shy about fighting back if he saw reason to.  Some would call him arrogant.”

“What would you call him?” Harry asked, a little concerned.

“Headstrong, which is a kinder way to say it sometimes,” Dumbledore said, making Harry chuckle.  “He grew up and matured into a fine man, one I was proud to call friend.  Do not think I tell you his faults to demean him or his memory.  I wanted to give you a full picture of him.  He was a good person and had many friends, including a cadre of his personal best friends.”

“I understand,” Harry said and he did a little.  “You said he was a good flyer?”

“An excellent one.  He did tricks that others did not and would attempt with varied results.  He was a great Chaser on the Quidditch team.  Set the record for scores one year if I recall correctly.”  He bit into another sandwich.  “No, he definitely did.  I remember him getting detention for introducing himself as “James Potter, Scoring Champion” for a long period of time.  Despite being proud of him, Professor McGonagall was tired of it.”

His chuckles joined Harry’s.  “She adored him.  Not only for his Quidditch skills but his magical talents.  Like I said, he was very good at transfiguration and that is one of my favorite schools of magic as well.  I taught it before Professor McGonagall did.”

“What was my mum like?” Harry asked quietly, yearning for more.

“Remember when I said your father had a bit of a tongue on him?  Lily Evans had more than a bit.”  Dumbledore smiled broadly.  “She never shied away from being vocal.  One professor said that she was quite cheeky in wit and word.”

“Wow,” Harry breathed.

“She was Muggleborn and was unafraid of the ones that would look down on her for it.  I am sure you have seen some of the negative attitudes about it?”  Dumbledore sighed deeply.  “One of the unpleasant sides of our society, one I have been trying to help change for some time.”

“Why do people look down on Muggleborns?” Harry asked.

“A variety of reasons, all of them unreasonable,” Dumbledore replied.  “There are those that deem them unworthy of magic.  Others believe they are bringing down the society where the Pureblood reigns supreme.”

He poured more tea.  “In this case, Lily was very intelligent and never backed down from standing up to others for it.  It made her many enemies as well as many friends.”  A mischievous smile grew on his face.  “In fact…your mother and father were not friends for quite some time.”

“Really?!” Harry gasped.

“Really.  Your father thought her to be very head strong, ironic for him to say, and the fact that she did seem to like him from the start nettled her.  Your mother found him, in her words, ‘quite annoying’ as well as arrogant.”

“They hated each other?” Harry asked softly.

“No, even at their worst, they never did,” he said soothingly.

“What changed?”

“James got his head on straight and matured while Lily mellowed out some.  They started tolerating each other more and then they became friends and then more.”  Dumbledore chuckled as he drank his tea and nibbled on a piece of cake.  “I won a rather substantial bet when they got together.”  He colored a little.  “Do not tell anyone that we do that.”

“I won't, Sir,” Harry said, delighted.

“Lily was very good at charms and potions,” Dumbledore continued.  “Very intelligent and one of the highest of her year.  She was also deeply loyal to her friends and was incredibly kind to many.  One of the few that made friends with people from all the Houses.  She was a wonderful person.”

Throughout the stores being told, Harry had looked utterly happy.  He was finally learning about his parents, mythical figures that he built up in his mind.  He had no idea of them at all and having given all this information, it was like finding water in the desert.  Then he sat back, looking glum all of a sudden.

“Mister Potter?”  What is wrong?” Dumbledore asked, sitting his cup aside and leaning forward.

“I don’t sound like them,” Harry said at last.  “I’m not very smart like they are.  I only have a few friends, not a lot.  They sound amazing,” he said wistfully.

“Do not compare yourself to them,” Dumbledore said gently.  “You are your own person.  You are not James Potter, nor are you Lily Evans Potter.  You are Harry James Potter.  You should be different from them.  You are not them.”

He continued when Harry looked up.  “Yes, you look extraordinarily like James save for your eyes which are a mirror of Lily’s.  And I see in you things that you share with your parents.  You are incredibly kind, Harry.  You are friends with the House Elves, something most magicals would not think to be.  You are good to your friends and are loyal to them.  Professor Flitwick is quite happy with your performance in charms and you have some skills in potions.  You fly well from what I have heard.”

“You think so?” Harry asked plaintively.

“I do,” Dumbledore said firmly. 

“Thank you,” Harry whispered.  He gave a start when Fawkes fluttered over to sit beside him. 

“If you need further proof, Fawkes does not approach many people of his own volition,” Dumbledore smiled.  He then sighed when Fawkes began taking food from Harry’s plate.  “Then again, perhaps he has some ulterior motives as well.  Fawkes, I think you know better than to do that,” he said and snorted when he was soundly ignored.

Harry laughed and put more food on his plate for Fawkes to eat.  “My owl does this too; I’m used to it and it’s fine.”  He admired Fawkes’ plumage.  “My wand has a phoenix tail core.”

“Excellent,” Dumbledore smiled.  “Phoenix tail cores can be a bit temperamental but they are very good to their wand wielders.  Demonstrates strength of character.”  He leaned to the side and opened a drawer in his desk.  “I have something for you.”

Harry took the folded fabric from him.  It was light and airy and it seemed to move under his touch.  When he unfolded it, it became a large cloak.  “Oh, you didn’t have to give me anything Sir.  I already appreciate being able to go to the kitchens and the talk.”

“Actually, this belongs to you, so it is long overdue,” Dumbledore said.  “This was your father’s invisibility cloak.”  He smiled when Harry’s eyes widened.  “It belonged to the Potters and therefore, it is yours.  I was examining it when James…passed.  I’ve held onto it all this time and I am happy I can return it to you.”

Harry put the cloak around his shoulders and looked down.  “I’m invisible!” he cried, seeing nothing but the stone floor beneath him.

“Now I am fairly certain that your father got into all sorts of uncaught trouble while using it so I am going to ask that you try not to do the same,” Dumbledore smiled.

“I’ll try Sir!”  Harry took off the cloak and carefully folded it, hugging it to his chest.  “Uhm, Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Do you know why my parents died?”  He flushed red and looked down at the floor.  “Hagrid told me they were killed by You-Know-Who.”

Dumbledore’s sigh was deep and heavy.  “Voldemort,” he said.  “His name is Voldemort.  Do not give him greater power by fearing to use his name,” he said gently.  “And, forgive me please, but I have an idea as to why but I do not think you are old enough yet.  But I promise, one day, I will tell you what I know.”

Harry nodded.  A part of him desperately wanted to know why.  Another part of him never did.  “I understand.  Thank you, Sir.”

“You are very welcome, Harry,” Dumbledore said.  “May I continue to call you that?”  He smiled warmly when Harry nodded easily.  “Splendid.  Now, let us continue to do full justice to your wonderful food before Fawkes eats it all.”  He gave the phoenix a look when Fawkes squawked at him indignantly.  “Do not give me that.  I have returned to empty biscuit bags and treat tins with you sitting there looking plump and surprised as to where things went.”

Time passed pleasantly with Dumbledore telling more stories and Harry soaking the words up hungrily.  Finally, they finished all the food, Fawkes getting the last of it, and Harry got up reluctantly.  “Thank you so much.  This was really nice.”

“It was,” Dumbledore agreed.  “I will see when we can do this again.  Unfortunately, time is a very valuable resource when you are Headmaster.  Would you like for me to accompany you back to the tower?  No?  Very well then.  Off you go.  Have a good evening.”

“Thank you, Sir.  Have a good evening!”

Dumbledore watched Harry go and then sent the dishes and tray back to the kitchens.  With a sigh he sat back and looked out the windows.  He thought of the conversation he had with Harry and his thoughts were like the falling snow outdoors: unrelenting and too numerous to count.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

9^th Course – A Different Kind of Holiday

“Are you sure this isn’t bothering you?” Rubeus Hagrid asked worriedly.  “You can tell me the truth now.”

Harry shook his head.  “Not at all.  It doesn’t bother you with me about, does it?”

“Not at all,” Hagrid echoed.  “I like it when you visit.  Just that,” he looked at the hanging boar carcass, at his dog Fang gnawing on some bones and offal, “this ain’t exactly normal for little kids to be around, you know?”

“I’m not that little,” Harry disputed.  He looked up at the giant figure that was Hagrid with a wry smile when Hagrid snorted richly.  “I mean, physically I am, but I know where meat comes from and I’ve been to the butcher before.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” Hagrid said.  He went back to butchering the large boar.  His breath steamed in the freezing air as he broke the boar apart into primal cuts. 

“One of the few things I watched on the telly was about breaking meat down.  Uncle Vernon once had a program on about a slaughterhouse but he and Dudley couldn’t keep watching it.”  Harry shrugged.  “It was pretty gross but informative.”

Probably couldn’t stand to watch something that looked like them go through it, Hagrid thought unkindly.  He still remembered how the Dursleys reacted to him, remembered how they treated Harry in front of him. 

Hagrid had gone to Privet Drive after a few days of no reply from Harry for attending Hogwarts.  His appearance had sent Petunia into hysterics and no number of threats from Vernon kept the big man from entering the house looking for Harry.  When Hagrid learned that they treated Harry like a personal cook, treating him coldly and rudely, he had grown angry.  His anger reached a peak when they said they convinced Harry to ignore the letter, saying that the school would prevent him from cooking and enjoying food and the like.

Hagrid had explained that the school would help him in the future for any number of careers.  When he told the boy that his parents were alumni, that was the real draw.  Then Vernon and Petunia threatened to punish him for wanting to go, while greedily eating the food Harry had prepared to add further insult and indignity.  After some choice words from Hagrid, as well as some promises to have Dumbledore come among others, the Dursleys had relented and ‘allowed’ Harry to attend and leave for his school supplies.

“It can be a bit gross,” Hagrid said instead, pushing his bad thoughts aside.  “But it’s natural.  It’s life.  Things eat things to live.  You just have to do it right and be good about it.  Don’t waste things if you can help it.  Be respectful.”

“I agree,” Harry said.  “Do you hunt in the Forbidden Forest a lot?”

“Oh sure, it’s part of my duties as groundskeeper,” Hagrid said proudly.  “I help the grounds stay orderly and help maintain the Forest some.  Usually the parts closest to the castle but also with the other parts when asked.  Lots of wild animals are in the Forest, magical and not.”  He patted the boar.  “These ones like to eat all sorts of things and will even get into the gardens and things of the folk in Hogsmeade.  So I help hunt when needed.”

Harry nodded in understanding.  “And you keep the meat?” 

“Always do some.  Others I sell to people in Hogsmeade or give a good portion to the kitchens here.”  He gestured to the castle and at distant trails of woodsmoke that curled in the air.  “It’s nice to give as much as I get.  Not all are as lucky as me to get such good food.”

“Can I go hunt with you in the Forest one day?” Harry asked eagerly.

Hagrid hummed.  “Let’s see about that for the future.  The Forest’s called the Forbidden Forest for a reason.”

The rest of the day passed pleasantly for them.  Harry helped with some of the preservation that Hagrid did: smoking and salting.  Then the pair spent the afternoon cooking in Hagrid’s hut and while Hagrid had tried to dissuade Harry, the boy was a guest after all, he also liked seeing Harry happy so he relented.  As he chewed on a very delicious bit of roast pork, watching Harry be buried under a very affectionate Fang that had also received some cooked meat and bones, Hagrid decided he was happy that Harry convinced him to cook some things a bit differently.

-0-

“Look at those sparkling eyes,” Daniel Brown said.  He looked at his daughter fondly.  “Someone looks very happy.”

“I’m really happy,” Lavender confirmed, her smile from ear to ear.  “Look how beautiful this is!”

Daniel looked at the gift with interest.  A large polished wood case lay open revealing rows and rows of colored thread on one half.  In fact, there were more spools of thread than he thought possible, they seemed to sink into the half of the case when they should not have been able to, going well beyond the dimensions of the case.

The other half was filled with all sorts of sewing related things.  Rows of gleaming silver needles of all shapes and sizes lined the length of the case, sitting above shears and scissors, measuring tape and rulers, a magnifying glass, soft clothes, and all sorts of things.

“It really is,” he smiled.  “A good gift.  Who gave it to you?”

“Harry,” Lavender said happily.

Daniel immediately went on guard.  “Harry?  Harry who?”

“Harry Potter,” Lavender said, rolling her eyes at her father’s expression.  “He’s my best guy friend at school.”

“Oh okay, that’s good then.”  He narrowed an eye at her look.  “What?  I am your father and can you blame me when I get worried?”

“If you read my letters, you might’ve already known Harry’s name,” Lavender said pertly.

“I do read them!” he protested.  “I’ll admit that I might forget a detail here and there.  I don’t remember hearing Harry’s last name though.”

“Oh I might not have written it,” Lavender shrugged.  “Harry’s really nice.”

“Oh right, the nice cook friend.  Still a bit odd that he can cook so well at his age.”

“A little, but he likes it and he’s good at it,” Lavender said firmly.  “Besides, you have to be nice to him.  Hedwig is his owl.”

“Your father is still afraid of owl post.”  A smiling woman sat next to Daniel, curling into him comfortably.  

“I’m not afraid,” Daniel sniffed.  “I was startled.”

Leena Brown snorted.  “Hedwig came flying through the window as your father opened it the first time she visited.  She ‘startled’ him so much I heard him scream from across the house.”

Daniel tried to glare at his laughing wife and daughter and failed miserably as they lost themselves to hysterics.  “I shouted in startled alarm, thank you very much.”

Leena whistled softly as she looked at the sewing kit.  “My, this is some lovely magic work.  It holds more than it looks.”

“Harry said it’ll protect the things inside and it’ll be light to carry,” Lavender smiled. 

“That’s a very thoughtful gift,” Leena smiled.  “That kind of enchantment work isn’t simple and can be costly.”

“Sounds useful.  Think I can get a bag for my tools like that?” Daniel asked.

“Well at least I know you’ll like your Christmas present,” Leena sighed with mock disappointment.  “Way to go, ruining your own gift like that.”  She smiled when he kissed her cheek.

“Well be sure to thank Mister Potter for the lovely gift,” Daniel said.  He felt Leena stiffen slightly against him and he gave her a curious look.

Lavender snorted.  “He’s my age Daddy, only the professors call him Mister Potter.”

“My apologies, Miss Brown,” he said and he laughed at her rolling eyes and heavy sigh. 

“I’ll write him a letter later.  I’m going to go show Marigold and Clover my new kit.”  Lavender hugged and kissed them and ran off.

“Is everything okay?” Daniel asked Leena quietly.

“Mister Potter?  Her friend is Harry Potter?” Leena asked just as quietly.

“I knew she never wrote his last name in her letters and I didn’t forget it,” he muttered.  “That’s what she said.  Why?  Is he a bad person?”

“No, not at all.  He’s the Boy-Who-Lived,” Leena said softly.  “I didn’t think that he’d be at Hogwarts too now.”

“Why’s he called that?” Daniel asked. 

Leena hesitated.  “Well, remember I told you that there were some troubles in the Wizarding World years back?  Well, he basically was the one that put a stop to it.”

“Wait, if he’s the same age as Lavender, how did he put a stop to it years ago?”  Daniel frowned slightly.

“No one really knows,” Leena said.  “All we know is that one day the dark times just stopped and he was responsible.  He then disappeared from the public eye and while people were thankful, they never really found out what happened to him and how things ended.  I think people were told he was somewhere safe and that was it.”

“Somewhere safe?  I don’t like the sound of that.”

Leena looked sad.  “His parents died.  They were killed.”

“Oh.  Damn.”  Daniel rubbed his neck.  “That must have been hard, growing up without his parents like that.  He must have turned out okay if Lavender says he’s nice.”  He wrapped his arms around Leena and rubbed her back as she rested her head on his shoulder.  “I know you don’t like thinking about those times either.”

“They were bad,” Leena sighed.  She dabbed at her eyes.  “I’m thankful I made it through and found you though.”

“And I’m thankful you came into my life and into Lavender’s.”  He kissed her.  He released a breath.  “Do we need to worry about Lavender and this Harry?”

“I don’t think so.  From what I know, his parents were good people and like you said, if Lavender says he is nice, then we shouldn’t have to worry.  He clearly thinks highly of her to get her a gift like that.”  She smiled.  “She’s a good person, like her father.”

“Thank goodness,” he said and grinned at Leena’s laugh.

-0-

“I can’t remember the last time you willingly read a book like that,” Padma teased.

Parvati grinned.  “Me neither honestly.  But this is so interesting!”

Padma leaned over and lifted the cover to read the title.  “Where Astrology and Astronomy Converge: Muggle and Magical Interpretations and Explorations.  That is a perfect subject for you.” 

“Right?  Normally you’re the one that gets a book as a present,” Parvati said.  “What did Harry get you?”

Padma proudly showed her gift.  “It is a wax tablet, like the ones the ancient Romans used!  This one is enchanted so the wax won’t melt and can clean itself with a built-in charm.  You can only write on the wax with this stylus and the coverings are extra durable.”

“That’s neat!  Really handy when you need to scribble something when you don’t have ink or quill.”

“We were talking about how inconvenient it was sometimes.  He was always used to having a pen or pencil with paper in the kitchen.  Quill and parchment is more finicky.” 

“Yeah they are.  Harry got us something different that we each like and didn’t get us the same thing but in a different color like most people do.”

Padma nodded as she sat down beside Parvati.  “He’s very nice and thoughtful.  I’m glad you convinced me to help with making curry and joining Household Charms.”

“I’m glad he became friends with Lavender so I could, and then you,” Parvati said.  She took a closer look at the tablet.  “Are you writing some recipes down to take back with us?”

“Grandmum actually told me these.  She’s happy that we can eat proper food while away and has promised to send us spices when we ask.”

“Really?  That’s surprising.”

Padma nodded before starting to giggle.  “Cousin Sita got really upset.  She said Grandmum didn’t do it for her boyfriend and it wasn’t fair.”

“Well that’s because he kept confusing our curry with Thai curry, complaining that our curry wasn’t sweet like he was used to.” Parvati snickered.  “I thought Sita was going to die from embarrassment.”

“After he died from Grandmum Cursing him,” Padma laughed.

“She does love Cursing people or telling people they’ll be cursed or Cursed,” Parvati said.  “I never thought about it until she wrote it in that letter she sent us.  She usually threatens other people.”

“She loves us the most,” Padma said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“What did Grandmum say to Sita?” Parvati asked.

Padma started laughing harder.  “She said it was a good thing Sita’s boyfriend has some taste, meaning them being together, and that it’s just too bad he didn’t have a sense of taste to tell what proper curry was.”  She continued as Parvati howled with laughter.  “She also said she should reteach Sita how to cook because she obviously failed if her boyfriend couldn’t tell the difference between right curry and wrong curry!”

The twins fell over laughing and they laughed all the louder when someone hammered on their bedroom door.  “Stop laughing at me!” Sita Patil yelled.  “I know you two are laughing at me!  Grandmother!”

“It’s not their fault your boyfriend has no sense of taste!” the Patil matriarch shouted back.

Sita’s shriek of outrage made Parvati and Padma cackle from delight.

-0-                                                                                                                                                                                                          

The ballroom was the epitome of opulence and refinement.  The marble floor shone; the pillars gleamed.  The ceiling was enchanted to reflect the night sky outdoors, the beauty without the cold atmosphere.  Music came from several instruments floating in the corner, playing themselves for the entertainment of others.  The people that danced and chatted were dressed in very fine dress robes of all sorts of shapes, materials, and colors.  Food floated around on trays, glasses of alcohol and other drinks also carried by magical means. 

Pansy used to adore the Winter Soiree that the Malfoys hosted every year.  She loved dressing up in something new and beautiful.  She loved the atmosphere, the food, the music and dancing.  Seeing the most influential families in Wizarding Britain was always exciting, even if she barely understood all the intricacies and what went on beneath the surface.  It was fun to see her friends and for them to act like their parents, to watch and think about when it was their turn to be the adults.

This year, it was hard for her to enjoy herself.

She had enjoyed seeing her family of course.  She loved her parents and her siblings and being away from them during the school year was difficult.  Letters only did so much.  She did not begrudge her family from being excited for the Soiree, she just did not share in the excitement for once.

Ever since the altercation with Draco earlier that year, she had been in a different mood.  She never told her parents of course, though they did notice that she was not as excited this year for the party.  She told them that she was just a little tired and they seemed to accept that.  She kept replaying the events of that night, of what happened before, and what happened after.

The ‘apology’ that Draco gave her after the incident felt hollow to her.  He had said it was not his fault, something she did not understand fully.  He had pushed her after all.  She was still unhappy with how he treated her, and the way he treated her leading up to it, and the insincere apology rankled her.

“And what are you doing here, standing by yourself in the corner?”

The cool voice cut through her thoughts and Pansy immediately straightened.  She looked up and smiled.  “Hello Mrs. Malfoy,” she said pleasantly.

Narcissa Malfoy was a very elegant woman.  Her hair was pulled back in a stylish bun and bright blue eyes peered intelligently about.  She smiled a little back at Pansy, a grin on any other woman’s face.  “I hope you are enjoying yourself?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Pansy lied.  “The ballroom is as beautiful as it always is,” she said honestly.

Narcissa’s smile did not waver though she did look more closely at Pansy, as if she saw the lie and the truth.  “Thank you,” she said.  “One must keep up appearances of course.”  She looked around and exchanged nods with those that caught her eye.  “How has your first term of school been?”

“It’s been well,” she lied again.  “Mostly.  Some of the classes are very difficult.”

“To be expected.  You are quite clever, however, so I am sure you will do well,” Narcissa said pleasantly. 

“Thank you,” Pansy said, relaxing just a little.

“Draco says you two are getting along well,” Narcissa said.  “As you two did prior to leaving for Hogwarts.”

Pansy tensed up more than a little.  “Did he?” she asked.

“Yes, in his last few letters.”  A slim eyebrow rose on Narcissa’s face.  “He did mention an unfortunate misunderstanding but said it was resolved.”

“I’m sure he thinks that,” Pansy said after thinking for a moment.

Narcissa looked at her closely.  “And what do you think?”

“That it was resolved,” Pansy said.

The older woman hummed softly to herself.  “Good.  I would hate to see your friendship suffer for no reason.”  The small smile returned.  “I hope you are not too big to give your Auntie Cissa a hug.”

“I’m not,” Pansy said, relieved.  She willingly hugged the older woman.  “I love your dress robes.”

“Thank you dear,” Narcissa said warmly.  Her voice dropped.  “If you ever need to speak with me on things, do feel free to do so,” she whispered and broke the embrace.  “Now I must be off to mingle with the guests.  A hostess’ duty is never finished after all.”  She left Pansy there, her dress robes swirling artfully around her.

I don’t think I can talk to you about this, Pansy thought sadly.  She stumbled slightly when someone bumped her from the side.  She breathed easily, recognizing Millicent.  “Hi Millie.”

“Hi Pansy.”  Millicent held up a plate.  “I managed to get the last of the fruit tarts before my brother could.”

“Thanks.”  Pansy took one and nibbled on it. 

“Are we still on for Boxing Day?” Millicent asked, eating her own tart.  “I need your help in burying Nate into the snow.”

Pansy smiled.  “I wouldn’t miss it.  I need to get him back after last year too.”  She felt a little better, standing against the wall with Millicent, thinking about what was to come instead of what had happened.

At least until she saw Draco walk past, barely giving her a look before he joined a group of other younger guests.  When Millicent pulled her away, she followed willingly, though her thoughts were elsewhere.

-0-

Harry blinked slowly, still in the realm between dreams and wakefulness.  He was warm and comfortable and was loath to fully wake.  He rolled onto his side, tugging on the covers.  As he did, he heard some clattering and felt things shifting on his bed.

“Ow!  Hedwig!”  He woke up fully, pecked by an indignant Hedwig.  With a yawn he sat up and squinted at her form.  “What was that for?” he asked.

She hooted severely at him, fluttering to the floor and flying back up, carrying the things that fell off the bed when he shifted.

He hurriedly put his glasses on and stared at the small pile of things at the foot of his bed.  “Are those presents?”

Hedwig nodded.

“I’ve got presents?!”

Hedwig tilted her head at him before nodding once more, cooing softly.

Harry was shocked.  He never received any presents of his own before.  In years past, the Dursleys had gotten cookbooks but they made it clear that the books belonged to them and that letting Harry look at them was his present.  He had been ecstatic this year when he had the means to give presents and had gleefully and carefully selected presents for his few friends and people he wanted to give things to. 

He never expected to receive any though.

His smile was the biggest he ever had as he watched Hedwig carry each package to him.  She walked daintily over the bed to him, proudly depositing each one into his lap.  The first one he opened was from Hagrid and it was a book about magical animals and how they compared to Muggle counterparts.  Hagrid had remembered the book Harry bought about plants.  He paged through it briefly, excited to read it fully later.  He was glad that he sent Hagrid a nice multi-purpose axe for his groundskeeping duties.

Hermione had sent him a selection of chocolates.  He had sent her an array of quills since he heard that her parents were dentists and did not approve of too much sweets.

“Oh wow,” he breathed when he opened the gift from the Patil sisters.  They had gotten him a mortar and pestle.  It was carved from stone but enchanted to be as light as wood, as well as enchanted for durability and easy to clean.  The pestle felt like it was made for his hand and he knew it would serve him well for both potion brewing and cooking.  He put it on his nightstand and liked how handsome it looked.

He saved Lavender’s for last and he was glad he did.  She had gotten him an apron but had sewn his initials into the bottom right corner of the hem, as well as a small white owl.  The apron was made of a soft black material but the outside of it felt nice and heavy.  The strings and the collar were grey and the front also had a few pockets of various sizes.

He had worn aprons before.  The Dursleys had gotten one for him to wear when he would be seen by guests but once again, he was told that the apron was not his.  That he was borrowing it and woe betide him if he ever ruined it or stained it. 

This apron had his initials on it.  It was his and only his.

He hugged it to his chest, feeling warm.  Unable to resist he put it on and tied the strings around the front, making it snug and neat.  He turned to Hedwig.  “What do you think?”

Hedwig puffed up when she saw the tiny white owl embroidered into the hem and barked approval.

“Right?  Lavender’s so talented.  Oh and I have something for you too.”  With a flourish he revealed a crimson and gold ribbon.  “Now you can be a Gryffindor too!”

Hedwig cheeped happily, dancing up and down.  When he tied it around her neck in a bow, she nuzzled him lovingly, looking quite festive and happy.

“We’re both dressed up for Christmas,” Harry smiled.  He sat back onto his bed and Hedwig sat in his lap, fluffed up and nibbling on his fingers. 

“Best Christmas ever,” he sighed, completely content.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

10^th Course – The Stand

Harry looked at the doors to the Great Hall eagerly.  The students had just returned from the holiday break and were streaming in for the return dinner.  While he had enjoyed himself over the holiday, he had missed Lavender, Parvati, and Padma.  It was a shock to him when he realized he missed seeing them and talking to them.  He never had friends before to miss.

“Potter,” Fred and George said, giving him a cool but polite nod as they walked past.  Ron grunted and nodded, saying nothing else.  He looked less hostile than he did before and it surprised Harry.

“Hello,” he said back.  “Good holiday?”

“Was pretty good,” Fred said.  “Yours?”

“It was good, thank you.  I was alone in the tower,” Harry replied.

“Having the run of the tower by yourself, that must be nice,” George said.

“We’d never get that chance,” Fred said, looking back towards the door. 

“Probably for the best,” George snickered.  The three Weasley brothers nodded again and kept walking down the table.

“I do hope they were polite,” someone said from behind, making Harry turn.  He saw Percy standing there, throwing a stern look after his brothers.

“They were,” Harry said.

“Thank goodness,” Percy sighed.  “I hope I did not act out of turn, but I had a talk with them a few months ago about how they were treating you.”

“You did?”  Harry looked surprised.  “Why?”

It was Percy’s turn to look surprised.  “Because it was not right, how they were treating you.  I should address it as a prefect and as their older brother.”

“Oh.  Thank you, I appreciate it.” 

Percy felt faintly embarrassed for some reason.  “You are welcome.  I sincerely hope that there will be no future problems, but do feel free to let me know if there are.”

“Did…did they tell you why?” Harry asked nervously.

“It was over a misunderstanding between you and Ronald on the Express and it was taken out of proportion,” Percy said.

“Oh actually, I think I can explain more.  We learned in Household Charms club that you can taste magic.”

Percy looked interested.  “You can?”

“Yeah, apparently the more you use magic to cook, it leaves a distinct taste.  That’s why I found your mother’s corned beef to taste so different.”

“Is that so?  How interesting.”  Percy looked impressed.  “Mother cooks with magic all the time so that would explain things.  With your permission, I will tell them that and hopefully the misunderstanding could be firmly put to rest.”

“I’d like that.  Thank you,” Harry said sincerely.

“You are welcome.”  With a nod, Percy walked away.

“Harry!”

Harry turned and smiled as he saw Lavender walk in with the Patil sisters.  He waved back excitedly.  “Hi everyone!”

“Did you have a good holiday?” Lavender asked as she sat beside him.

“It was really nice.  Quiet and I got a lot of work done and visited with the Elves and Hagrid and the Headmaster.  Thank you so much for the gifts.  I love my apron and my mortar and pestle!”

“You’re welcome!  I adore my sewing kit,” Lavender smiled brightly.

“I’ve never seen Parvati read something so diligently like her book,” Padma smiled.

“It’s really interesting!” Parvati said.  “And that tablet is really handy.  Padma uses it a lot and it’s so cool.”

“I’m glad,” he said with relief.

Padma left to go back to the Ravenclaw table and Harry felt more at ease eating and chatting with Lavender and Parvati like before.

-0-

“Everyone liked your biscuits,” Lavender said the next night when they met for club activities. 

“Really?” Harry asked, pleased.

“Mmmhmm!  They said they were great and my mum said she could actually taste a difference between the ones you made with and without magic,” Lavender said.  “That was really exciting.  My little sisters preferred yours to mine though,” she huffed, making the others laugh.  “It was fun baking with them though.  When we went to my Grandmum’s, we all baked together and Grandmum was really happy to do that with us.”

“Only your mum could taste a difference?” Parvati asked.

“Daddy could a little but she could more.  She’s a witch too,” Lavender said.  “My dad is a Muggle.”  She hesitated for a moment, as if debating whether or not to say more, and decided not to.

“I guess that answers a question if Muggles can tell the difference in tasting magical food or not,” Flitwick said smoothly.  “We can explore that as well later on.  Oh and I managed to procure some magazines for the club.”  He revealed them with a large smile.  “Here are some ones focusing on fashion and textile work and things like that.” 

Lavender and Parvati picked those up eagerly, already flipping through them.

“And for you Mister Potter, some cooking magazines.”  He grinned at Harry’s enthusiasm.  “Now most of them are from international magical communities.  There really aren’t any domestic ones.”

“Why is that?” Padma asked.

“Unfortunately, cooking is not held in high esteem in Wizarding Britain.  A good portion of our community is very much, how do I put this politely, image focused.”  He hummed at their blank looks.  “The Pureblood culture tends to be more dominant and for them, one should have food prepared for them.  They are very concerned about appearances, both literal and figurative.”

“Oh, I understand,” Harry said with utter sincerity.

“I’m afraid you do,” Flitwick said softly to himself, given what he has learned from the comments he heard Harry made.  “So while there are eateries and restaurants and taverns all over, it’s less of a prestigious thing to do here.  Also from what I understand, British cuisine is a bit maligned as it is and with our culture being so image concerned, it bleeds over.”

“You’re not wrong,” Harry confirmed.  “Lots of jokes about how it’s bland or not good and how most of it is simple food.  Which is a shame, there’s nothing wrong with that.  Good food is good.”

“A good mindset to have,” Flitwick said approvingly.  “In any case, just like most things, things and customs will wax and wane in time.  Perhaps one day we will see a rise in British cooking in our culture.  But at least, you can see how some of the rest of the world does it.”

“Thank you, Sir!”

“You are quite welcome!”  He sniffed the air, looking at the bubbling pot of butter chicken with intense interest and anticipation.  “I am terribly excited that I can enjoy this fresh from the pot.  Also, what a lovely gift you received.”  He gestured at the mortar and pestle.  “It made short work of the spices.”

“I really like it,” Harry beamed, making Padma and Parvati smile with pleasure.  “And my apron,” he said, smoothing out the edges and proudly showing off the additions Lavender made.

“I wanted to try and make you one but we didn’t have the right materials,” she said, smiling with pleasure as well.  “So I ordered one and added the bits to it thinking you’d like it.”

“I really do,” Harry said.  “So much.”

“I’m sure Professor Snape will be happy with your mortar and pestle as well,” Flitwick commented.  He blinked when Parvati muttered something under her breath that made Padma poke her and Lavender giggle.

“Has Professor Snape ever been happy?” Harry said in what he thought was a diplomatic tone.

Flitwick stifled a snort.  “It has been known to happen,” he said and could not stop from smiling while the four students laughed. 

-0-

Pansy felt Millicent pressing her foot against hers, the action hidden by the table.  Before she could look at her friend, she noticed someone walking up to them in the Slytherin common room.  “Hello Draco,” she said blandly, looking up at him.

“Pansy,” he said back shortly.  “I want to talk to you.”

“Okay,” she said and went back to writing her essay.  “Go ahead then,” she said as he stood there and fumed.

“Go away,” he sneered at Millicent.

“You don’t have to,” Pansy cut in, giving Millicent a kind look.  She ignored Draco’s look.

Draco seethed for a moment before visibly swallowing.  “May I speak with you in private then?” he asked Pansy.

“Okay,” she repeated blandly and got up and followed him a few feet away.

“What did you tell my mother?” he asked when they had a semblance of privacy.

“That I loved her dress robes,” Pansy said honestly.

He looked at her, trying to determine if she was mocking him or not.  “Did you tell her that we’re fighting?”

“Is that what we’re doing?” Pansy retorted, showing her irritation and hurt.

“Apparently,” Draco sniffed.  “Despite me being the bigger man and apologizing.”

Pansy snorted.  “If you can call it that.”

“I did apologize!  It is not my fault if you did not accept it!”

She looked at him cooly.  “I thought that was one of the Malfoy things, ‘never accept anything’.”

He flushed.  “Never stopped you from accepting what you could get from me before,” he bit back.

She flinched and glared at him, pain and anger mixed in her eyes in equal measure.  “I didn’t say anything else to her,” she said back finally.  “She asked me if I was having fun, and asked how school was and if you and I were getting along.  I said yes, that it was hard, and you thought we were.  Then I said I loved her dress robes and we hugged.  That’s it.”

He had the grace to look slightly abashed.  “And you did not tell her anything else?”

“I have never snitched on you,” Pansy said severely.  “Never, ever.  Even when I climbed the tree on your estate and fell out of it trying to get the kite that was stuck in it.”

“Oh.  Right.  I remember that,” he said in a soft whisper.  For a brief moment he looked like the boy that Pansy had really liked, a kinder face with softer eyes.  Then his face hardened and his eyes sharpened.  “Well, good.  Thank you.”  With what he thought was a lordly nod, he turned and left without another word.

After watching him walk away, Pansy turned and sat back down at the table she shared with Millicent.  Her movements were slow and without thought.  She turned to look at Millicent when her friend pressed her leg against hers again.  “Hmm?”

“You still don’t deserve it,” Millicent said quietly.

“I thought I was doing what he wanted,” Pansy whispered.  “I don’t know what he wants anymore.”

“You should do what you want,” Millicent said gently.

“That’s the problem,” Pansy sighed.  “I don’t know what I want.”

-0-

She had thought she would have time to ponder on that question, but as life was wont to do, she found she did not have much time at all.

Potions class was already off to a rough start.  Millicent had gotten sick with a cold and stayed in their dorm room to rest.  Pansy had relied on her best friend more these days to remain calm and centered.  She never would want Millicent to suffer for her sake and while she wanted her friend to rest, she felt her absence keenly.

Snape had started the class by going over the potion they would be attempting to brew that day, lecturing on some of the more tricky parts of the instructions.  Then he stepped out for a moment, giving Draco the chance to do what he wanted: mock Harry.

Draco, having learned that Harry had remained at the school over the holidays, had immediately gone for the throat and ridiculed Harry for not being wanted by his relations to return for the school break.  Harry had tried to keep his emotions under check but the remark struck home and no one missed the flash of pain on his face.

Tasting blood, Draco bragged about how his family looked forward to his return and he was the highlight of their Winter Soiree.  How everyone wanted to have him around.  He had turned smugly to Pansy, waiting for her to help him.  Waiting for her to aid in mocking him, to take part in torturing Harry.

There was a time where she would have done just that.  She had done just that, a few months prior.  Yet now, she hesitated.  She thought about everything that had happened lately.  She remembered the kindness Harry showed her, the cruelty that Draco had shown her.  She felt the weight of the handkerchief, clumsily sewn and given to her, in her pocket.

You don’t deserve it; you still don’t deserve it.  You should do what you want to do.

She opened her mouth and Draco looked at her expectantly, gleefully waiting.

“I’m tired of this,” she said and he looked as confused as she felt.

“What?” he asked, wrong-footed.

Pansy got up from the desk, moving slowly but with purpose that grew stronger with each step she took.  She walked up to Harry who looked at her with mirrored confusion.  She tried to ignore the suspicious looks from Lavender and Parvati, from everyone else.  “Potter,” she said, her voice oddly calm.  “Millicent is sick today and I don’t have a partner.  Care to work together?”

Draco’s jaw fell to the floor and he stared in utter shock.  The class dissolved into whispers and gasps and Harry looked at his two friends, as if confirming with them that he had heard correctly.  When they returned his blank look, he turned back to Pansy.  “Sure, I’d be okay with that,” he said and sounded like he meant it.

Pansy nodded shortly and sat beside him, skin prickling from the intense stares from everyone around them.  A part of her was horrifically embarrassed at her own boldness.  A part of her was deeply nervous, unsure of what was going to happen next.  And a small but not inconsequentially small part of her was very pleased at how upset Draco looked.

Snape walked back into the classroom and stopped.  He stared at Draco standing there, shaking from anger.  He then noticed Pansy sitting beside Harry and his eyebrows rose even higher.  “Is there a problem?” he asked cooly, the question directed to the class at large.

“No Sir.  I needed a new partner today,” Pansy said loftily.

“I see.”  Snape coughed awkwardly.  “Mister Malfoy, return to your seat.  All of you should be working.  Get started.”

Harry’s head swam from the rollercoaster changes in just a few short minutes.  From having a pleasant lunch with his friends, to being upset from Draco’s needling, to being the center of attention with Pansy’s actions, he was confused and a little anxious.  However, he pushed on, falling into the state he did whenever he cooked which potions was similar enough to. 

“Shouldn’t we be chopping the burdock roots?” Pansy asked.

“Yeah but if we slice it out like this first, we’ll get more even pieces.  Professor Snape said it was important for everything to be as uniform in shape as possible.”

“That will take more time though,” Pansy frowned.

“I can do it quickly enough,” Harry said confidently.  “But if you don’t mind preparing the thistle flowers for the next part, we can catch up in time there.”

“I can do that,” she said slowly.

“Thank you,” Harry said as he started peeling the skin off the burdock root.  He then cut the long root into even pieces before julienning them and then chopping them. 

“That’s more than what we need,” Pansy observed.

“I know, I’m splitting some with Lavender and Parvati and they’re going to share the shredded dandelion root that they’re working on with us.”

“Should I be preparing more thistle flowers then?”

“If you could, that would be great.”

Pansy blinked a few times.  “I could, I mean, yes I can.”

“Thank you,” Harry said again pleasantly.

“You’re welcome,” she replied with uncertainty.

Parvati turned so that Pansy could not see her face and looked at Lavender with wide eyes.  “Is she actually being nice?” she mouthed silently.

Lavender nodded, also with wide eyes.  She peeked around Parvati and Harry to look at Pansy. 

“I must be dreaming,” Parvati mouthed again.  “Hey!” she said out loud.  “Why did you pinch me?!”

“To make sure you weren’t sleeping,” Lavender said and she scooted away when Parvati tried to pinch her back.

As the class came to an end, Snape walked to their table.  He dipped a ladle into Harry and Pansy’s cauldron and poured the liquid out, watching it closely.  Cleaning the ladle with his wand, he did the same to Lavender and Parvati’s cauldron, watching the potion drip slowly and smoothly from the ladle.

“Acceptable,” he said tonelessly.  He ignored Lavender and Parvati’s happy expressions and gave Harry and Pansy a curious look.  “Gather a sample vial for each of you and then you may clean and leave.”

“Good work today,” Harry said to Pansy as they cleaned up.

“Uhm, yeah, thanks for helping,” Lavender said next with Parvati nodding.

“You’re welcome,” Pansy said softly.  “It was…nice working with you too.”  They left the classroom together and after an awkward pause and an even more awkward half-wave, Pansy started walking away from them.  A few paces away she stopped and turned around to face them.  “When is your next club thing.  You said you cook in a club?”

“Household Charms,” Harry confirmed.  “Tonight actually.”  He noticed her dithering there.  “Would…would you like to come?  That’s fine, right?”  He looked at Lavender and Parvati.

“I…guess?” Lavender said, sharing a look with Parvati who nodded hesitantly.

“I would,” Pansy said.  “Thank you.  When and where?”

“The classroom is on the fifth floor, across the hall from a tapestry of flowers,” Harry said.  “We have it right before dinner because we usually eat during it now so we can skip dinner in the Hall.”

“I will be there.”  Another half-wave and Pansy fled down the hall.

“Ow!  Why?!” Lavender squeaked, smacking Parvati.

“You pinched me earlier and I was just checking to make sure I wasn’t dreaming,” Parvati said.  She and Lavender exchanged pinches and pushes for a bit as the trio started walking back to their tower.  “Okay, I’m just going to say it, that was weird right?  Please tell me that I’m not the only one that thought that was weird.”

“That was definitely weird,” Lavender agreed.

“It was a good kind of weird at least,” Harry said. 

“I guess so,” Parvati said.  “I’m still not used to her being so…not her.”

“I thought she and Draco were like super close,” Lavender mused.  “But she definitely didn’t do what he wanted her to do, you could tell.”  She stopped and looked at Harry seriously.  “What if it’s a trick?  What if she’s doing this to really get back at you in the future or something?”

“I didn’t even think about that,” Parvati gasped.

“Do you think it’s a possibility?” Harry asked, disturbed.

“Who knows?  I mean, I never thought it was possible for her to be nice but she was today,” Lavender said.  Her face fell a little.  “I feel bad for thinking badly of her like this…”

“But in our defense, she was horrid and only recently been less so,” Parvati finished.  The girls looked at Harry.

“We can give her a chance,” he said at last.  “Before the holiday break, she said thank you for the muffin and was really surprised when I explained why I was nice to her.  Let’s give her a chance and if she’s rude or anything, we can tell her she’s not welcome back to the club.  I definitely don’t want someone rude or mean there.”

“That’s fair,” Lavender said.

“Padma is going to be really surprised,” Parvati muttered.

“I think we’ve all been surprised today,” Harry said.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

11^th Course – Changing Direction

“Pansy,” Padma said.  “Pansy Parkinson.”

“Do you know any other Pansies?” Parvati asked.

“No, but you can’t blame me for being surprised,” Padma said.  “Pansy is coming to the club.  She wants to come to the club.”

“Apparently,” Parvati sighed.

“Why?”

“We don’t know for sure either,” Harry said. 

“She either is doing something to cheese off Draco, which will work considering how upset he looked today,” Lavender said, “or it’s a plan for something later on.”

“Could be both,” Parvati brought up.

“Could be both,” Lavender agreed.

“Or maybe she is interested in household charms?” Padma suggested.  She snorted at the looks the other two girls gave her.  “Right, I knew that was weak as I was saying it.”

“She was really pleasant to work with today during Potions class,” Harry said.  “Like actually nice to work with.”

“That’s true,” Lavender admitted.  “And I mean, who hasn’t wanted to stick it to Draco?”

“Maybe she’s sick,” Parvati said.  “Isn’t Bulstrode out because she’s sick?  Maybe it’s contagious?”

“What does being sick have to do with her wanting to come to club?” Harry asked.

“Just saying.  Some kinds of sicknesses addle your brain.  One of our cousins got sick and turned bonkers, started doing things really out of the norm-“

“He got hit with a Concussion Curse,” Padma explained, glaring at her sister.  “And he wasn’t too bright to begin with.  He cast the curse on himself.”

“Why?!” Lavender exclaimed, eyes wide.

“Something about ‘knocking the cough out’,” Padma sighed.

“He thought that would work?” Harry asked.

“Like I said, wasn’t too smart to begin with,” Padma said.

Harry and the girls started laughing.  “Well, let’s just see how it goes,” Harry said when the laughter subsided.  “If she’s rude and mean, she won’t be welcome back.”

“That’s fair,” Padma said.  “Still, it’s kinda weird.”

“That’s what we said earlier,” Parvati said.

-0-

Pansy stood at the closed door, staring at it.  She had arrived minutes ago and had stopped just shy of opening the door.  She knew she was in the right place; she could hear them talking within the classroom.  Normally she would never be this shy. 

However, what she did today would not be considered to be ‘normal’ behavior.

She would never have stood up to Draco quite like that before.  She and Draco have argued many times in the past, usually about what they were doing or what to do, but she had never stood against him in such a way.  She would never have made a spectacle of herself in front of others before.  Then again, she had never been pushed to the point where she did that sort of thing.  She had never been bothered to such a degree where she felt like this.

Confused, elated, concerned, frightened, and confused.  It was worth mentioning that state of mind twice. 

Before she could talk herself into leaving, she opened the door and stepped inside, looking about nervously.  The conversation faded when everyone turned to look at her.  She flushed, turning bright red, and hated herself for it.  “Hello,” she said as calmly as she could.

“Come in, Miss Parkinson,” Flitwick said with a wide smile.  He always seemed to be smiling though, so she was unsure if it had anything to do with her being there or not.  “Welcome to Household Charms.”

“Thank you,” she said and walked quietly over to the other four students.  “Potter,” she nodded to him.  “Hello,” she said to the others.

“Hello Parkinson,” Harry said kindly.  The others did the same with differing degrees of friendliness.  “Nice to see you,” he added, somewhat awkwardly.

“Nice to be here,” she replied, definitively awkwardly. 

Flitwick clapped his hands gently, as if physically dispelling the awkward air.  “Now then, what would we like to cook today?”  He grinned at Harry.  “Instead of asking what we would like to do, I figure we should dispense with pretense and just get right to it.”

Harry laughed.  “I would like to make chicken soup today.”  He turned to Pansy.  “You said your friend was sick, right?”

Pansy blinked.  “Yes, Millie, I mean Millicent, she’s my best friend and she has a cold.”

“Chicken soup is something Muggles make when someone is sick,” Harry said.  “There’s no medicine in it but I think it has a lot of good stuff in it that helps a person feel better and get well better.  Plus it’s tasty.”

“You would make that for her?” Pansy asked, staring at him.  “Without you knowing her?”

“Sure, why not?” Harry replied.

“Because you do not know her,” Pansy repeated dumbly.  “Why would you?”

Harry looked at his friends for a brief moment.  “Doesn’t mean I can’t help in some way if she isn’t feeling well.  It’s only right.”

“Oh.”  Pansy flushed again.  “That sounds really nice, thank you.”

“I have a good spell for helping us with that then,” Flitwick said, once again clearing the air.  “It’s a modified cleaning charm.  It’s a sanitizing spell that is specifically for cleaning produce.”

“Only for cleaning produce?” Padma asked.  She huffed when Flitwick nodded.  “That’s annoyingly specific and mundane again!”

“Oh do not get me started on this spell array I found that differentiates between cleaning cotton socks and wool socks,” Flitwick smiled, making Padma scoff out loud. 

“What happens when you cast the wrong one on the different material?” Lavender asked.

“The cotton becomes ruinously sodden and the wool catches on fire,” Flitwick said. 

“That makes no sense,” Parvati giggled.

“Such is the whims of magic,” Flitwick chortled.  “To be clear, there are plenty of spells that are quite generic and that work well enough on many things.  Those are the spells you generally learn.  But for the best results, and to flex your spellcasting and knowledge, these specialty ones exist.”

He laid a carrot onto the table.  “Allow me to demonstrate.  Scourgify.”  Scrubbing bubbles appeared on the carrot and after a moment, it gleamed.  “If you would, Mister Potter.”

Harry peeled it in moments and cut out thin carrot sticks in only a few more, something that made Pansy look on with astonishment.  He doled pieces out to everyone and they took bites out of them.

“Blergh.”  Lavender stuck her tongue out.  “It tastes a bit soapy.”

“More than a bit,” Parvati said, licking a napkin.

“And if we use this spell instead, it will be less soapy I hope.”  Flitwick drew a circle around a different carrot.  “Mundum crea.”  The carrot was coated with a thin sheen of liquid before it evaporated swiftly, leaving a gleaming carrot behind.  Harry peeled it and sliced it just as fast as he did with the first one and they all ate sticks of the new one.

“Oh, no soap at all,” Padma said.  “That’s nice.”

“Really handy if you don’t have any water to wash,” Harry munched.  “I’ll try washing one in regular water too, to compare.”

Flitwick taught them all the new spell and they practiced cleaning the vegetable that Harry had requested for the soup.  Even Pansy took part, feeling like she should and feeling slightly silly for learning and using such a spell.  She watched on as Harry washed another group of vegetables by hand.  “Why are you doing that?”

“We learned that you can taste magic,” Harry explained.  “When you use magic while making food, it makes a small difference.”

“Truly?” she asked, intrigued.

“Mmhmm.  So part of what I like to do is to see by how much and what can be done with magic and what is done without to not change the overall taste that much,” Harry said. 

“That makes sense I suppose,” Pansy mused.  She saw the others looking at her.  “What?”

“It does?” Parvati asked.

“Well, I’ve never thought of it when it comes to food.  No one in my family prepares food themselves,” Pansy said, a trace of asperity in her voice.  “But sometimes there are differences in the charms cast by my mother versus my father.”

“Oh yeah, we learned that when we compared Wand-Lighting Charms,” Parvati said.

After cleaning all the vegetables and practicing the charm some more, they broke apart into their small groups as they usually did.  Parvati and Lavender started sewing together, Padma and Flitwick discussed something he had spoken of in class, and Harry continued to make the chicken soup.  Pansy watched him for a few minutes.  “Do you all just…do what you wish like this?”

“Sometimes,” Harry said.  “First time we made butter chicken and roti and when we baked biscuits together before the holidays, everyone did cooking things.  Other times we all do what we’re interested in the moment.”

“Should I be helping in some way?” she asked, uncertain and somewhat shy.

“Sure.  You can peel the carrots while I prepare the other things.”

“Okay,” she said hesitantly. 

“Peel them like we did the burdock today,” Harry suggested.  “The skin isn’t as rough or thick so you won’t need to use as much force.”

“Right, okay.”  Pansy felt a little better, thinking of preparing the root like one would during potion making.  She started peeling them slowly with a small paring knife.

“It’ll be a bit faster and safer if you hold it point down,” Harry said.  He demonstrated.  “Rest the carrot tip against the board and cut down with the knife away from you.”

It was faster and easier to do it that way and she found herself equal parts impressed and irritated.  “No wonder you can prepare ingredients for potions easily,” she said.  “You had some familiarity, despite not ever brewing potions before.”

“Yeah, I actually said that to Lavender during our first few weeks.  The type of cuts and preparation for lots of the ingredients are really similar to cooking knife cuts.”  He chopped onion and celery and set them aside, then started working on the spices. 

“And you cooked ever since you were little?” Pansy asked, speeding up slightly.

“As far back as I could remember,” he nodded.  “I used to do all sorts of chores but once I started picking things up in the kitchen and was pretty good at it, the Dursleys decided it was worth more to keep me cooking so they could eat better and entertain others.”

Pansy said nothing as she continued to peel the carrots.  The phrasing Harry used was uncomfortably similar to sentiments she had heard before.  For some reason, hearing Harry speak of himself in that regard made the words feel different and not as matter-of-fact.

“Thank you,” Harry said when she finished.  He took them from her and started chopping them.

“It took me too long,” she said, slightly disgruntled. 

“It’s not a race,” Harry said.  “No need to prove anything.”

She looked at him blankly for a moment.  “I suppose,” she said slowly.  She watched as he cooked the vegetable in oil over the heat until they took on a bit of color.  Added herbs, garlic and ginger and thyme, made it that much more fragrant before he combined the mixture with water and increased the heat to bring it up to a boil.

“Normally I’d make a chicken stock with bones and scraps but don’t have them or the time,” he said.  “But while the soup is cooking the veg, I can maybe slow cook the chicken breast in some water on the side to keep it soft, poaching it really, and then shred it and add it in later so the chicken doesn’t get tough.”

“There are different methods to achieve the same thing?” she asked.

“Yeah, though they have different results.  Some better, some worse.  I could throw the meat in there now and cook it with the veg but you’d either get underdone veg and overdone meat, or over done on both.  I could even roast the chicken or slice it thin and pan cook it and add it at the end.  All will give a decent soup by the end, but the process and the flavor will be different.”

“Not so much like potion brewing then.  Typically one has to stick to a distinct recipe,” Pansy said thoughtfully. 

“Makes sense.  Potions are more finicky usually though some dishes are finicky too.”  Harry stirred the simmering soup and put the lid on.  “There.  Now we just have to wait for the flavors to come together.  Once they are just about there, I’ll add some noodles.”

“What do you do while you wait?” Pansy asked.

“Sometimes I sew and do other things with the others.  Otherwise, I practice cooking related charms.  I actually want to keep working on the charm.  Professor Flitwick and I discovered that the better you get at the spell, the less noticeable the taste difference you get.”  He laid out some more carrots and began casting the spell again and again.  “He thinks the more mastery you have over it, the less magic you expend to cast the spell, leaving less of a difference.”

“That makes sense,” she said quietly, watching him.  It was interesting to her to see him work like this.  He had already shown that he could cast the spell, yet he wanted to cast it better?  Despite performing adequately, acceptably even, he wanted to get better. 

And it was not just him.  Parvati and Lavender were still working away on their own sewing projects industriously, using a combination of magic and manual skill as well.  Pansy watched Lavender undo some stitches and redo them. 

“Oh, hi,” Lavender said, noticing Pansy standing nearby and watching. 

“Why did you undo your work?” Pansy asked.

“They were a bit crooked,” Lavender said.  “It’d be easier to fix it now instead later.”

“Would they show in the final product?”

“Not really, not unless you would go looking for it.”

Pansy frowned slightly.  “Then why do it over if no one will see it?”

“Because I’d know,” Lavender said.  “Sometimes I’ll let it go, if it isn’t something major.  But I also want to do my best so it’s not a big deal to make a mistake and go back to fix it.  If it’s for someone, I especially want to make sure it’s really good.”

“Hey, the bag you gave me last time had crooked stitching,” Parvati said.

“That was more you taking one of mine to use,” Lavender said, rolling her eyes.

“That is probably the best thing about being in a different House,” Padma said.  “She can’t nick my things anymore.”

“Okay first of all, I don’t nick your things, I return them eventually,” Parvati protested while Lavender and Padma laughed.  “Second of all, you do the same to me.  Third of all, challenge accepted.”

“Don’t you dare,” Padma said severely. 

Pansy sat quietly, listening to the three girls bicker amicably while working on their sewing.  Then Harry’s voice made them all stop and turn to him. 

“Soup’s ready I think,” he said brightly.  He poured out bowls of the steaming chicken noodle soup.  “Let’s eat!”

Pansy took her bowl eagerly, stomach growling at the herb-filled savory scent.  As she was about to start, she noticed that the other three girls were waiting for Harry.  Lavender looked pointedly at Harry who sat beside her sheepishly before they picked up their spoons.  Only then did Pansy follow suit.

The soup was delicious.  The soup was clear but flecked with herbs, tiny drops of chicken rich oil dolloped the surface of the soup, little bubbles that shimmered.  The carrots and celery and onion still had texture but were easily broken apart.  The chicken was soft and plump.  The noodles gave the tiniest resistance before being chewed into pieces.  The first sip seemed to warm her slowly, filling her with comfort as it trickled down her throat and into her stomach.  The warmth radiated outwards from her core, filling every nook and cranny of her being.

“Wow,” she whispered, looking down at the bowl of soup.

“Mmm, this is delicious!” Lavender praised.  “Perfect for the cold!”

Padma sighed happily.  “It’s nice and light but still filling.”

“I could certainly believe that this soup would help anyone feel better,” Flitwick said warmly.  “You can taste the craftsmanship and the care.”  He chewed on some of the vegetables thoughtfully.  “Are all the vegetables ones we used the new charm on?”

“No Sir.  A mix of them,” Harry said.

“I don’t think I can taste the difference,” Parvati said.  “It’s all so good.”

Inky appeared with a pop.  “Mmm, smells good!” she said happily.  She brought bread and butter for them and was eager to fill her own bowl, hopping up on a stool to join them.

“Inky is like the club Elf,” Harry said when he noticed Pansy staring at her eating.  “She brings us things and helps cook when she has time.”

“I…I don’t think I’ve ever seen a House Elf eat,” Pansy said softly, eyes wondering.  “And we have House Elves at home…”

“Most House Elves do not eat with others,” Inky said.  She slurped her bowl of soup happily.  “But Mister Harry is nice and Inky likes to eat with him and the others.”

After a while, they finished their meal, with everyone having seconds.  Pansy accepted a container filled to the brim with more soup.  “All this for Millie?”

Harry nodded.  “Hope she feels better.”

“Thank you.”  She hugged the container close.  “I’m sure she will like it and feel better.”  She then watched with amazement as the students competed with each other in using the Scouring Charm.  The others laughed as they teased each other, seeing who could use the charm to greater effect.

“I almost got it,” Padma huffed.

“Are you mad that Parvati is better at it than you?” Lavender teased.

“Not really,” Padma smiled.  “She’s more used to cleaning.”

“I make bigger messes apparently,” Parvati said shamelessly. 

“Really?” Lavender gasped.  “I’m shocked!”

“No, you’re not,” Padma laughed.

“No, I’m not,” Lavender giggled.  “HEY!” Lavender shrieked when Parvati aimed at her.  “My hair!” 

“I was only trying to help!” Parvati squealed as she ran from Lavender.  She cackled as Lavender left a trail of bubbles behind as she chased after her. 

After Flitwick left and Inky popped away, the students gathered outside of the clubroom to leave for their respective common rooms and dorms.  Pansy stood there for a moment, gathering her thoughts.  “Thank you,” she said at last, “all of you.  For letting me be here.”

“It was nice having you,” Lavender said sincerely.  “Will you come again?”

“Yes please,” Pansy said very softly.  She took a deep breath.  “I’m going to get Millie to eat this tonight,” she said, cradling the container.  “See you later.”  She turned and walked away; head bowed with thought.

“You know, I never would’ve believed it,” Padma said after they heard Pansy’s footsteps fade to silence.  “But she was actually polite tonight.  A bit snippy but definitely way different.”

“I’m glad she was nice,” Lavender said.  “It was weird but not in a bad way.”

“I still think something else is going on,” Parvati insisted.  “People don’t change like that so quick and easy usually.”

“Maybe,” Harry admitted.  “But let’s hope it’s nothing bad.”

Parvati smiled, a mischievous expression.  “Maybe it’s your fault.”

“How so?”  Harry looked faintly worried.

“It’s your cooking, taming the most rude of people,” Parvati giggled.

“Hmm now wouldn’t that be a fun experiment,” Padma smiled.  “Perhaps we can feed your cooking to other rude people and see if it turns them around.”

“That’d be a waste of good food,” Lavender sniffed, making them all laugh appreciatively.

“I don’t think it works that way sadly,” Harry said, sobering a little.  “I’d know otherwise,” he added softly.

The girls looked at him.  He shook his head, as if to shake maudlin thoughts away.  “I rather cook for my friends who appreciate it,” he said with a shy smile.

“And we’d rather eat it ourselves and with you,” Lavender smiled brightly.  “And appreciate you.”

-0-

“So, finally returned, have you?”

Pansy looked up.  So lost in thought, she had not noticed she had walked back to the Slytherin common room.  She had absent-mindedly given the password and walked into the opulent room without paying much attention.  Only Draco’s scathingly delivered words brought her back to the moment. 

“What, nothing to say for yourself?” Draco asked angrily.

“Hello Draco,” she said blandly.  “Crabbe, Goyle,” she greeted in an after-thought.

Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other with surprise before they grunted a greeting back at Pansy.

“Why did you betray me earlier?” Draco seethed.  Everything had gone wrong today.  First, he almost had Harry truly upset and needed help in breaking him down but the help from Pansy did not come.  To add injury, Pansy had gone to work with him.  To add insult to injury, they had worked well and Snape had praised them.  Then instead of begging for his forgiveness, Pansy had disappeared until now.

He almost rather her fight with him like she did last term than this thrice-cursed bland apathy that she was treating him with.  It was infuriating to him.

“I told you, I was tired of it,” Pansy said.  “Besides, I’m only doing what you wanted me to do.”

“What do you mean?  If you were doing what I want, you would have helped me destroy Potter instead of work with him,” he said, growing confused.

“You told me to leave you alone,” Pansy said, a glimmer of heat in her eyes.  “So that’s what I’m doing, leaving you alone.”

He gaped at her like a fish on land. 

“Now if you will excuse me.”  She moved past him, ignoring his stammered attempts at not excusing her.  She ignored the curious looks from those pretending not to watch, and the ones who did not hide that they were watching with great interest.  Without hesitation, she slipped into the dorm room she shared with Millicent, locking the door behind her.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asked her friend.

“Still sick but a little better I think,” Millicent coughed.  “Did something happen?” she asked, noticing Pansy’s expression.

Pansy let out a breath.  “A lot of things actually, but it can wait.  I brought you something.”  She sat beside Millicent on her bed and opened the container.

“That smells great, I think,” Millicent said stuffily.  She sat up and took the container.  “Soup?”

“Chicken noodle soup,” Pansy said.  “It might help you feel better.”

“I’ll give it a shot.”  Millicent took a careful sip of the still hot soup.  “Oh, this tastes good!  It’s still nice and hot.”  She ate slowly.  “Did they have soup for dinner?”

“No, Harry made it.”

“Harry?  Harry Potter?  Where?”

“They cook in Household Charms club.  He made it for you when I said you were sick.”

Millicent blinked a few times.  “That’s…that’s really nice of him.  Did you have some too?”

“I did.  I helped a little in making it actually.”  Pansy drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees. 

“You helped cook?” Millicent asked, coughing with surprise.

“Yeah, hard to believe, isn’t it?” Pansy said wryly.

“Just a little.”  Millicent drank more of the soup.  “But I’m not complaining at all.  It tastes good and it’s easy to eat.  I actually want to eat it and I’ve not really wanted to eat anything since I’ve been sick.” 

Pansy smiled.  “I’m glad.”  She sat in comfortable silence while Millicent slowly ate, finishing the container to the last drop and noodle. 

“Mm, that was nice,” Millicent said.  “I feel a lot warmer now.”  She yawned.  “Did you want to talk about things?”

“They can wait,” Pansy said.  She got up so Millicent could lie down comfortably.  “I’ll explain everything when you feel better.”

“Can’t wait.”  Millicent’s voice became sleepy.  “Good night, and thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Pansy said softly as Millicent fell asleep.  She set the container on her desk and sat down on her chair.  “Thank you,” she murmured to herself though she was not entirely sure who she was saying it to, or for what.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

12^th Course – What Lies Beneath

The man walked into the room and closed the door behind him.  He was a plain looking man in feature, nondescript even.  His biggest trait was his clothing, specifically a purple turban.  When he entered the room, he looked earnest and painfully awkward, with wider eyes that flitted about.  As soon as the door closed behind him, he changed.  His eyes narrowed and became calculating, more focused. 

He waved his wand several times and waited once the spells were cast, listening and watching.  Satisfied with the results, he removed his turban and set it on his desk.  With another wave of his wand, a mirror came gliding towards him, settling on the desk.

He stared at his image in the mirror for a long moment before he blinked a few times.  His image changed.  His eyes became red, his features sharpened, his skin paled ever so slightly.  “Master,” Quirinus Quirrell greeted.  When he spoke, the image did not.  It was no longer only his reflection.

“Quirinus,” Voldemort said.  The voice was spectral, possessing an eerie spectral quality to it that hissed ever so slightly.  The voice left the mirror, spoken with lips similar to Voldemort’s and Quirrell’s.  To Quirrell’s ears, it sounded like Voldemort was in the room with him.  Not just in a spectral way, but physically as well.  “What news?”

“I have no idea where the Stone is,” Quirrell admitted.  He knew the price of failure yet he also knew that Voldemort did not want someone to prevaricate, not now.  “The rumor that the Stone has been put in some test or something was only a rumor.”

Voldemort’s face twisted and Quirrell felt his own face do the same unbidden.  “I had hoped the old fool had grown more foolish in his years.  Tell me you have more news than empty words.”

“Yes Master.  Dumbledore intends on returning the Stone to its creator.”  Quirrell smiled.  “In person.  He will be coming to the school near the end of the term.”

“Ahhhh, that is good news.”  Voldemort’s smile was cold and hungry.  “And you have a plan to obtain the Stone?”

“Yes Master.  I will be using my skills in that regard.”

“Good.  Once you obtain the Stone, things will be much easier, and you will be duly rewarded for your service.”

Quirrell inclined his head.  “Thank you, Master.”

“You have something else to say?  Speak,” Voldemort commanded.

The man hesitated for a brief moment.  “Something did happen today.  I accidentally brushed Potter with my arm and I felt incredible pain.”  He pulled back the sleeve on his arm, showing a long reddish patch of skin.

Voldemort looked at the wound with interest.  “How did the boy react?”

“He had no lasting marks like I do, but he seemed to have felt pain as well.  I managed to waylay any questions and direct attention elsewhere.  But I do not know what could have caused this.”

“Nor do I,” Voldemort admitted quietly. 

“There is something else,” Quirrell said.  “The contact felt strange, aside from the pain and burning of course.  There’s something oddly familiar buried amid the other sensation.”

“Familiar?  What does that mean?”

“I do not know Master.  Which is why I wished to speak to you and your vast knowledge.”

“Your flattery is unnecessary,” Voldemort said with a small sneer.  “Can you heal the wound?”  The image watched as Quirrell was able to heal the skin so that it appeared normal.  “Curious.”  Voldemort’s image frowned and thought and as it did, it started to flicker, looking more like Quirrell’s. 

The image grimaced and after a look of deep concentration, it looked like Voldemort once more.  Quirrell hissed in pain as he felt his muscles and skin move without his command.  “My magic wanes more easily now.  We must get the Stone to strengthen your body and my spirit.  I will ruminate over this mystery.  Continue your planning and do not fail me.”

“No Master,” Quirrell intoned.  He took a deep breath as his head started to ache and pound, feeling like it was stretching.  When he opened his eyes, the mirror showed his image as it should be, reflecting things perfectly with brown eyes.  He looked at himself, lost in thought.

A knock on the door roused him.  “C-C-Coming!” he stuttered, hastily putting his turban back on.  He was slightly out of breath from rushing when he opened the door, fitting his façade perfectly.

“Are you unwell?” Snape asked, his eyes piercing and calculating.

Quirrell hid his sneer.  “Q-Quite alright, thank y-you Severusss.”

Snape tilted his head.  “Are you sure?”

Quirrell coughed.  “Y-Yes.  My apologies, Severus.”

-0-

“Huh, I missed a lot when I was sick,” Millicent said.  “I thought I’d only miss school stuff but I missed more important things.”  She looked over.  “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly?  I don’t know,” Pansy sighed.  “Confused.  Happy.  Angry.  Sad.  Confused.”

“You said confused twice,” Millicent said.

“That’s how confused I am,” Pansy said.

“Don’t mind you chatting, ladies, but keep working while you do if you please,” Sprout said kindly.

“Yes, Professor,” the two girls chorused.  They continued to transfer flutterby seedlings into the planters, taking care not to crush the thin stalks and gently waving leaves with compost or soil.  “You don’t regret going to the club and cooking with Potter, do you?” Millicent asked.

“No, not at all.”

Millicent looked to the other side of the greenhouse, sneaking a peek at a person that was alternating between ignoring them or glaring at them.  “How about standing up to Draco?”

“I don’t think so,” Pansy said quietly.  “He’s the one that said leave him alone,” she added angrily.

“True, he did.  There’s a difference between leaving him alone and doing something that will piss him off,” Millicent said.  “Are you doing this just to piss him off?”

“I don’t think so,” Pansy repeated.  “Maybe.  It’s confusing.”

“Sounds like it,” Millicent said as she put the planters aside.  “Did you have fun?”

“It was really nice,” Pansy said wistfully.  “They just…did things.  They said what they wanted and everyone did it together.  No one overly mocked each other or try to put each other down.  Well wait, that’s not completely true.  Brown and Patil, the Gryffindor Patil, teased each other a lot.  But like how you and I do where it’s not as…mean.”

“You won’t mock me because you know I can knock you on your arse,” Millicent said airily, flexing an arm.

Pansy giggled.  “Yes you can but you won’t.”

“I’ve been tempted to.  When we were little and you were a lot more annoying,” Millicent smiled.

“I believe it,” Pansy said seriously.  “You were a lot like father’s hounds, tolerating to a point but ready and willing to snap.”

“That’s probably the most roundabout way for you to call me a bitch,” Millicent laughed.

“And I didn’t even mean to do that,” Pansy laughed.  She sobered a little.  “Have you ever eaten with your family’s House Elf?”

Millicent paused.  “No.  Never.”

“They did, easily,” Pansy said.  “And they were content to redo things and keep working on the same thing to practice.  Without being told to.”

“Huh.  Weird.”

Pansy nodded.  “Potter’s been cooking since he was a child.  He had to do other chores before but then he was kept cooking because…because it was worth more to keep him doing that…for the betterment of others.”

Millicent looked at Pansy side-along.  “That’s…close to home.”

Pansy nodded.

“Didn’t he grow up with Muggles?”

Pansy nodded again.

“Huh.  That’s really weird,” Millicent muttered.  They worked in silence for a minute.  “Are you going to go back?”

“I would like to,” Pansy said honestly.  “Would you come with me?”

“I guess I can.  If he’s as nice as you say he is.  Plus, that soup was delicious, better than any I’ve had at Hogwarts, just as good as home cooking even.  How did the others treat you?”

“They were polite and nice enough,” Pansy said.

“That’s good.”

“You’re not going to knock Potter on his arse, are you?” Pansy asked seriously.

“Probably not, since you said he’s nice,” Millicent said seriously. 

-0-

“Oh, hey there,” Harry said, seeing Pansy and Millicent.  The Gryffindors were walking down to the greenhouses for Herbology class and ran into the Slytherins walking up.  Pansy and Millicent had been walking in front of the crowd and came up to Harry and his friends.

“Hello Harry,” Pansy said with a small smile, making the others look twice at her.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asked Millicent.

She blinked.  “I’m feeling better, thank you.  The soup was really good.”

“I’m glad,” Harry beamed. 

Hermione looked at the two Slytherin girls with outright shock, and glanced back at Harry and Lavender and Parvati.  “When have you been nice to them?” she whispered.  “Why are they being nice back?!”

“It’s new and yeah it's a little weird but just go with it,” Lavender whispered back.

Draco literally growled when he walked up, seeing the two groups of people facing each other but not hurling barbed words or insults.  He glared at Pansy and Harry in turn, growing angrier by the moment.

“Might want to loosen your collar,” Harry said, tugging on his own shirt.  “If you’re having problems breathing.”

“Or do you need a leash if you’re growling like that?” Lavender asked sweetly.  She reached into her bag and fished around a bit before taking out a length of ribbon.  “Is red okay?”

Parvati burst out laughing and more than a few of the others joined in.  Pansy and Millicent not even hiding their merriment. 

“You-you-“ Draco sputtered, his face matching the hue of the ribbon.  “How dare you-!”

“Just offering a bit of advice,” Lavender said, her voice dripping with faux-innocence.  “When my doggie growled a lot, it was apparently out of anxiety when we were out and she felt better when she had her leash and one of us was holding it.”

“We should probably get to class,” Harry said, grinning.  “Don’t want to be late or else Professor Sprout will have a bone to pick with us.”  That set them off again, filling the air with laughter, and he and his friends waved to Pansy and Millicent who waved back.

“Now that made me feel loads better,” Millicent said smugly, watching Draco stomp up to the castle.  “I think I might like Potter too.”

Pansy watched Draco with a complicated expression on her face.  “I told you he was nice.”

“He wasn’t that nice to Draco,” Millicent giggled.  “For good reason though.”

Pansy smiled.  “No he wasn’t, but he was nice to you and me.”

-0-

“Look at those idiots,” Parvati muttered as she gave Seamus, Ron, and Dean a sour look.  “Celebrating as if they were the ones that took Draco down a peg.  Didn’t even congratulate either of you and you were the ones that said it.”

“Lavender really did it,” Harry smiled.  “Gosh, that leash joke was amazing.”

She did a little half bow and half curtsey.  “Thank you!  But I was being honest.  My dog growls a lot when she’s anxious.”

“What kind of dog do you have?” Hermione asked.

“She’s a poodle named Cokie,” Lavender said proudly.  “I’ll need to bring a picture of her next year or maybe ask for one to be sent.  I miss her.”

“That’s a funny name,” Parvati said. 

“My little sisters named her.  I think they were trying to say cookie but messed up and Cokie just stuck,” Lavender giggled.  “She’s so cute though and a giant cuddle bug.”

“Don’t mind you chatting, ladies, but keep working while you do if you please,” Professor Sprout said kindly as she breezed by.  “And you too Mister Potter,” she added when the girls giggled.

“Yes Professor,” the three girls and the boy chorused. 

“So…Pansy and Millicent are nice now?” Hermione asked as they started refilling one of the bins with soil and compost. 

“Well this was the first time we interacted with Millicent,” Parvati said.  “And the third time we really interacted with Pansy, if you count Potions yesterday as the first time she was nice and club being the second.” 

“Miscere,” Harry said, drawing a slow circle with his wand.  The contents of the bin started to mix themselves, the old leaves and roots and vegetable scraps combining with the earthy-scented soil and other heavy wet things. 

“Well done,” Sprout smiled.  “Two points to Gryffindor.  I am so glad you found that spell.  It is quite useful.”

“Thank you, Ma’am!” Harry smiled.  After she left, he spoke.  “I’ve spoken to her a few times out of class, Pansy I mean.  She was nicer those times, not like the beginning of the school year when she was rude most of the time.  Well, all of the time really.”

“I still think she’s up to something, but I don’t think it’s anything bad for us,” Lavender said.  “She was genuinely interested and surprised by a lot of the stuff we did in club last night.  Asked some questions too.”

“I wonder if Millicent is going to come now,” Harry mused.

“You think Pansy’s coming back?” Lavender asked.

“I think so.  And Millicent is her best friend and all.  I don’t think she’ll be that bad.”  Harry shrugged.  “I mean, with how Pansy is now anyways.”

“She’s kinda scary,” Hermione said.

“She can’t be that scary if Pansy calls her Millie,” Parvati said.

“We can give you a fun nickname,” Lavender said with a sly smile.  “Like Parvie or Parv.”

“Don’t call me that,” Parvati said, sticking her tongue out.  “Or else I’ll call you Lavie or Lav.”

“Lavie sounds like larva,” Hermione said with a small giggle.  “You know, like an insect.”

“I can’t believe you called me a bug!” Lavender said indignantly, throwing a tiny bit of soil at Parvati.

“I didn’t!” Parvati protested and threw it back. 

“I’m not sticking around and getting soiled,” Harry smiled and left with Hermione trailing after, eager to avoid the coming soil fight.

-0-

“He is acting with more suspicion,” Snape said quietly.

Dumbledore did not turn from the window.  He looked out over the grounds thoughtfully.  “How so?”

“He cast several privacy charms over his office,” Snape said.  “More than what one would generally require for a school.  When he opened the door, his hearth was cold.”

“So he probably was not using the Floo,” Dumbledore mused.  “Not that there are no other means of communication of course.  If you take that into account with his recent journeys around the castle and the grounds, as well as his casual disappearances, it does seem that he is hiding something.”

“Or planning something,” Snape murmured.

“Or planning something,” Dumbledore agreed. 

“And what are we doing about it?” Snape asked.

“Well you have been keeping an eye on him when you have the freedom to,” Dumbledore said.  “As have I and Minerva.  I have not been able to use too many spells, he is rather good at finding that sort of thing given his expertise and all.  Without substantial concrete proof, I cannot search his office or question him.”

“I thought that was the headmaster's right,” Snape snorted.

“A right that has been wrongfully abused by past headmasters,” Dumbledore said wryly, looking over the portraits that lined one of the walls in his office. 

“Has something changed as of late?” Snape asked.  “His actions have increased within the last few weeks.”

“Nothing comes immediately to mind,” Dumbledore hummed.  “No, wait.  Yes there has actually.”  He turned to face Snape.  “Nicolas is coming for a visit at the end of the term and I mentioned it when the initial time frame was agreed upon.”

“Nicolas Flamel?”  Snape nodded.  “To take the Stone back.”

“Yes, and to visit friends of course.”

“So he aims for the Stone.”  Snape snorted.  “How base of him.  I thought higher of his ambitions for some reason.”

“Wanting something that can create gold as well as immortality is a lofty goal,” Dumbledore said mildly.  “Not to mention its magic potential.”

“Unless he wishes to claim Flamel,” Snape said, “or dispose of him.”

“I honestly would like to see him try,” Dumbledore said with a broad smile.  “The man has lived for centuries.  He has forgotten more about magic than I could ever dream of knowing.  He knows spells from the times of the Romans and the Gauls, ones even more ancient than that.”

“He is not that old,” Snape protested.

“No, but he has had plenty of time to indulge in finding lost knowledge and absorbing it.”  Dumbledore turned to look out the window once more.  “What happened to you, Quirinus?  Why have you become like this?  I know you have always been ambitious and hungry, but this appetite is greater than ever before.”

Snape said nothing.  One of the trinkets on Dumbledore’s shelf clicked softly, filling the air with a steady sound.

“Should we increase security or do something more when Nicolas comes?” Dumbledore asked.  “Or even before?”

“That would show our intentions and put him on guard.  As of right now, I do not think he suspects us of suspecting him of anything,” Snape said slowly. 

“True,” Dumbledore conceded.  “Then we will maintain the course and see how things develop.”  He looked back at the potions master.  “Anything of note you wish to speak about?”

Snape shook his head.

“Anything you find not noteworthy you would like to speak about?” Dumbledore asked with a twinkle in his eye.

Snape sighed deeply.  “It is odd with how busy you are, not to mention how old you are, how much you enjoy school children's drama.”

“One of the perks of being headmaster really,” Dumbledore chuckled.  “I have not felt the need to listen to a wireless drama program in many years.  It is so delightfully diverting and on a scale much less serious than what we normally have to deal with.  It is refreshing.”

Snape snorted.  “I doubt I will ever enjoy it like you.  I hated it when I was mired in it.”

“We all have different tastes for entertainment,” Dumbledore said genially.

Snape sighed again.  “If you must satisfy your craving…something did happen the other day that was…mildly interesting.”  He rolled his eyes at Dumbledore’s eager look.  “You look like a bored housewife that might hear some gossip.”

“Not the first time someone made the comparison,” Dumbledore smiled.  “Do go on then.”

“Things between Malfoy and Parkinson have come to a head apparently.  She did not partake in his usual taunting of Potter and instead, worked with Potter.  Willingly.”

“Oh?”  Dumbledore looked impressed.  “My, now that takes more than a bit of bravery.  To cross the line between Houses, especially to work with one so…disliked by one you consider a friend.”

“Certainly a gesture that made me question if she was sorted correctly,” Snape said blandly, making Dumbledore chuckle.  “Not really, boldness and bravery is not under the sole ownership of Gryffindor.”

“Certainly not.  How has Mister Malfoy taken the incident?”

“Poorly.  I have had to counsel him on keeping a cooler head.”  Snape rubbed the bridge of his nose.  “He sees it as a betrayal.”

“If only the worst betrayals are things of this magnitude,” Dumbledore said.  “Still, they are all young and few have the history to compare things like that to.  And what do you think of this?”

“I try not to,” Snape said.  “Like I said, I detest the childish drama and as long as it does not cause any trouble that involves my efforts, it can happen as it will.”

“Fair enough,” Dumbledore chuckled.  “Hm.  Mister Potter is somewhat like his father.”

“Arrogant.”

“Come now Severus, has he shown any signs of being like that?”

Snape’s lips twitched.  “He is very confident in his potion preparation abilities, which given his alleged hobby, it makes sense.  And I have heard his comments made to Malfoy in passing, so the arrogance is there.”

“He also draws the eye of people in need, to provide comfort and solace,” Dumbledore said.  “Case in point, Miss Parkinson.”

“That was more something his mother did,” Snape said quietly, pained.

“Perhaps a bit of both then,” Dumbledore said gently.

Time passed slowly between them.

“Thank you for the report,” Dumbledore said at last.  “I will continue to keep a close eye on Quirrell and perhaps let Nicolas know that something might not be as it seemed.”  He clapped his hands.  “Now, if you will excuse me,” he said as he began walking to the door.

“Off to find more sources of entertaining drama?” Snape asked dryly.

The Headmaster’s eyes glinted with glee.  “Oh Severus, you know me so well.”  He left his office, humming sprightly to himself.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

13^th Course – Melding Together

“I can’t believe it’s close to the end of the term,” Harry said.  “This year has flown by.”

“We can believe it,” Parvati said.  “Hermione stays up late studying.”

“I’ve seen her in the common room,” Harry said.  “She’s usually the last to leave I think.”

“And she keeps reading in the dorm.”  Lavender adjusted the strap of her bookbag.  “We had to get her to close her curtains so we could sleep without a light on.”

“Do you think you’ll still beat her marks?” Parvati asked, smiling.

“I never thought I would in the first place,” Harry laughed.  “That was you or Padma.”

“Have a little more faith in yourself,” Parvati said.  “It’s not entirely probable, but it’s certainly possible.”

“There’s having faith and then there’s being delusional,” Harry snorted.  “I have plenty of faith in myself in the kitchen though.”

“You should,” Lavender smiled.  “I could go for something you make right now.  Too bad Professor Flitwick said we can’t have club meetings because of term tests coming soon.  Not to mention he’s helping his O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s students.”

“Say, what if we ask to study in the clubroom?” Parvati suggested.  “That way we can get Padma to come.  I’m sure he’ll let us study there and if Harry accidentally cooks something at the same time, then we might as well eat it.”

Harry laughed.  “Oops!  I’m so sorry Professor, I accidentally fell and the veg chopped themselves up.  I have no idea how that happened!”

“Oh no I spilled biscuit dough into the oven!” Lavender giggled.  “Whatever shall I do?”

“I knew you two would agree,” Parvati said smugly.

“He’ll probably let us, and I’ll make extra for him too of course,” Harry said.  “What do we want to eat?”

“Something new?” Parvati suggested.  “I can eat curries every day, because I’m used to it, but it’d be nice to have something different.”

“I want to make biscuits too though, for snacking during studying,” Lavender said.

“Nothing too much though,” Parvati added hastily.  “It’s important that you study too.  Sorry, don’t mean to try and guilt you or anything.”

“You didn’t,” Harry said warmly.  “I know what you mean.”

“Oh good, so I can push it a little more,” Parvati said.  “OW!  Lav!”

“I’ll pinch you again,” Lavender said severely.

Harry chuckled.  “You two are great.  Oh look, there’s Pansy and Millicent.”  He looked at the other two girls.  “Did you want it to just be us or can we invite them too?”

The girls exchanged a look.  “I guess we could,” Lavender said slowly.  “As long as they remain nice.”

“Padma can invite one of her friends too,” Parvati said.  “She said it’s someone she gets along with.”

“And we can also ask Hermione,” Harry said.  “Who knows, maybe more people will make the studying a little better?  And that won’t stop us from doing a just us thing later.”

“You’d be surrounded by girls,” Parvati giggled. 

“You two will protect me, right?” he asked plaintively, making them giggle more.

“We’re girls too,” Lavender laughed.

“Obviously,” Harry sniffed and then laughed with them.  “I can ask Neville if he wants to join us.  I don’t think Ron or Dean would study with us and if I’m being honest, still kinda hard to talk to them.”

“And I don’t want to be around Seamus so that works,” Lavender said stiffly.  She loosened up a little.  “But that sounds good to me.  And like you said, we can study together just us later on if it’s a disaster.”

“Works for me.  Besides, I still want to know if Pansy’s planning something.  Hey Parkinson, Bulstrode,” Parvati called out. 

The two Slytherin girls stopped and turned, looking quizzical.  They saw Harry and Lavender too and waved and approached them.  “Hello,” they greeted.

“We’re going to ask Professor Flitwick if we can use the clubroom to study soon,” Harry said.  “Do you want to join us?”

“Why study in the clubroom?” Pansy asked.

“So Harry can make food for us to eat,” Parvati explained.  “Can’t quite do that in the library.”

“I think Pince would have a heart attack,” Millicent snorted.  “I tried to nibble on some toast in there once and she made it seem like I was eating a book.”

“We’re going to invite a few other people,” Lavender said.  “So it’ll be a mix.”

“Thank you for inviting us,” Pansy said.  She looked at Millicent who shrugged and nodded.  “That sounds nice.  We would like to come.”

“We’ll let you know when then,” Harry said.  “Maybe Saturday?  We can just relax in the clubroom all day and take advantage and cook while there.”

“Things can take that long to cook?” Millicent asked.  “Really?”

“Oh yeah, some things you have to let sit overnight,” Harry said.  “Other things taste really good the longer they simmer for.”  He grinned.  “I know what to make now.  It’ll be really good.”

“Ooh if you say it is, then it has to be,” Lavender smiled.

“Let's go see what Professor Flitwick says and then I’ll place an order through Hedwig,” Harry said excitedly.  “See you later!”  He and Lavender and Parvati ran off, leaving a bemused Pansy and Millicent watching them dash off.

“I never expected to be invited to spend time with Gryffindors,” Millicent remarked.  “Or anyone else for that matter.”

“Me neither,” Pansy said.  “I don’t hate it though.”

“Clearly,” Millicent said dryly, giving her friend a look.  “Because you think it sounds nice.”

Pansy gave her a look and a poke.  “What?”

“Just saying you’re awfully nice to Potter,” Millicent smiled.

“I’m nice to you too,” Pansy muttered.  “Or I was.”

“Yeah and it took you ages to treat me so nicely.  He got to skip years of you being rude,” Millicent sighed gustily.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

Pansy shook her head, a smile breaking through.  “Wish I didn’t.”

“No you don’t.”

“Stop that!”

“Shant.”  Millicent smiled broadly at Pansy’s groan of frustration.

-0-

“I thought we were going to spend the day studying,” Hermione said.

“We are,” Lavender replied.

“Then why did you bring that?” Hermione asked, pointing at the case Lavender was carrying.

“For when we take breaks,” Lavender said.  “Or when I take a break and you keep studying.”

“I’m taking breaks too,” Parvati said.

“I take breaks,” Hermione sniffed.

“Falling asleep on your notes doesn’t count really,” Parvati said.  “That’s more like your body protesting and taking matters in its own hands.  Which are actually your hands come to think of it.”

“A break is anything you do that’s not the task at hand,” Hermione argued.

“Taking conscious breaks is different from an unconscious one,” Lavender protested.

Neville looked askance at the three girls as they argued.  “Do they normally do that?” he asked nervously.

“I think so,” Harry said, not bothered by their arguing.  “Lavender and Parvati arguments can get even more loud and active.  This isn’t anything to worry over I don’t think.”

“That’s good,” Neville said, still looking nervous.  “Thanks for inviting me.  I’m…I’m sorry I never said anything before,” he added quietly.  “I’ve been thinking about saying something but…well…” his voice trailed off dismally.

“It’s okay,” Harry sighed.  “You didn’t actually say anything rude to me and while you didn’t stick up for me, it still counts.  I think you’re okay.”

Neville smiled gratefully.  “I think you’re okay too.”  He looked around the club classroom with interest.  “So this is where you guys do Household Charms?”

“Yeah, not sure what classroom it used to be before the club but it’s nice.  We’ve kept it clean and Inky lets us keep the stove here now.  She used to bring it every time but since this is our official clubroom now, it’s the club stove,” Harry said, patting the stove fondly.  “Professor Flitwick charmed the icebox for us too to keep things in.”

“And you learn charms for doing stuff for cooking and sewing and things?” Neville asked.  He looked surprised when Harry nodded.  “I’ve never thought about learning that sort of thing in a club before.”

“How do you learn stuff like that?  From your family?” Harry asked.

“Uhm, well my family has House Elves to take care of the house stuff,” Neville said.  “I guess other families will teach them spells to use at home?  I’ve never thought about how you don’t learn it at school.”

The door to the club room opened and Padma came walking in followed by another girl with long black hair tied in a ponytail.  “Hey everyone,” Padma said pleasantly.  “Everyone, this is Sue Li.  Sue, meet everyone.  Parvati you know of course.  That’s Lavender, Hermione, Harry, and Neville right?”

“Hello,” Sue said politely.  “It’s nice to meet everyone outside of class.  Do you all study together like this often?” 

“No, this is the first time,” Harry said.  “We’re taking advantage of the space and being able to cook while studying so we can eat and relax somewhere different.”

“I thought we’d be the last,” Padma said.

“No, we’re still waiting for Pansy and Millicent,” Harry said.

“Parkinson and Bulstrode?”  Sue’s eyes opened wide.  “The Slytherins?  Really?”

“That was my reaction,” Hermione murmured. 

“They’re not that bad,” Harry said weakly.

“It’s true,” Lavender said with the Patils agreeing.  “Pansy’s still a bit snippy but she’s not nearly as bad as she was in the beginning of the year.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said you have interesting friends outside of Ravenclaw,” Sue said to Padma.

“I wouldn’t consider those two friends just yet,” Padma said wryly, “personally anyways.”  Her smile turned sly.  “And Parvati isn’t my friend, or interesting.”

Parvati made a very rude hand gesture at her sister, making her and Hermione gasp while the others snickered and laughed. 

The door opened and the laughter faded when Pansy and Millicent came in.  They stopped and stared at the others who stopped and stared back.  “I hope we aren’t interrupting anything,” Pansy said coolly.

“Not at all,” Harry said with a smile that was a touch too broad due to nerves.  “Come in, we’ve been waiting for you.  That’s Sue Li, we've just been formally introduced, and you know Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom, right?”

Pansy nodded, smiling thinly while Millicent waved shyly.  The silence thickened noticeably, everyone standing around and not sure where to look or what to say.

“What are we doing first?” Lavender asked brightly, her voice puncturing the balloon of awkwardness and letting the air out.

“I figured we can start with Potions,” Harry said, grateful for her breaking the proverbial ice, “while I prep the ingredients for our dinner.  The knife cuts are the same essentially and we can quiz each other on the potential potions and stuff like that.”

“They’re the same?” Neville asked.

“Oh yeah.  Julienning for long thin cuts, dicing, chopping, shaving is a little different but not too much so.  A lot of the roots you peel like you would a carrot or a potato or a tuber.”

“What are you making by the way?” Pansy asked.

“I’m going to make a Bolognese sauce,” Harry said. 

“Ooooh I love spaghetti Bolognese,” Hermione said, brightening.  “I didn’t think I’d ever have it here!”

“What’s Bolognese?” Millicent asked.

“It’s an Italian meat sauce.  You actually gave me the inspiration the other day.  A good Bolognese simmers for hours to make the sauce nice and rich.” 

“Wow, not something to make when you’re already hungry then,” Parvati said.

Lavender helped Harry clean the waiting vegetables and things while the others set up their books and took out their notes.  After a moment of hesitation, Pansy started helping to clean the cooking things too, giving a giggling Millicent a dirty look and firmly pressed lips.

“No wonder you get good results in Potions,” Hermione said as she watched Harry finely dice onions, carrots, and celery.  “Those are some very small and even cuts.”  She tilted her head and stared at Harry’s hands as he chopped.  “You must have practiced a lot.”

“I did,” Harry said.

“Did you ever cut yourself?” Neville asked.

“I did,” Harry said without any reservation.  “It can still happen but I’m a lot better at it now.”

“How do you get the groceries and things to cook with?” Sue asked.

“The club has a small budget for things.  I’ve also traded with the kitchens for things too,” Harry explained.  “But other times, like when we cook outside of club, I order things myself.”

“And you pay for it, for everyone?” Pansy said, looking shocked.

“I can afford it,” Harry said without care.  “Lavender and Padma and Parvati have gotten things from home too.  It’s fine with me.”  He missed the look Millicent and Pansy gave each other, as well as the surprise on the other first-comers to the club.  “Besides, Hedwig gets bored.”

“I’m asking a lot of questions that aren't related to studying,” Sue said with a small smile, “but who’s Hedwig?”  She jumped when Hedwig barked loudly from behind where Sue was standing.

“Hedwig,” Harry chided when Lavender and the Patils laughed loudly.  Hedwig wriggled her way out of the cabinet and flew past Sue to land on the table beside Harry, fluffing up and looking smug.

“Oh my goodness she’s adorable,” Millicent breathed.  “And she has a ribbon!”

“It was her Christmas gift,” Harry said proudly as Hedwig puffed up even more, her crimson ribbon bow proudly on display.  “She’s my owl and my friend.  She gets a lot of the food deliveries for me.”

“How much can she carry?” Hermione asked.

“We haven’t found a limit yet and she can carry a pretty packed box full of vegetables and meat,” Harry said seriously.  “She’s also very proud of herself,” he smiled when Hedwig flexed her wings, striking poses.

They quizzed each other on potential potions questions as well as procedures and steps from the three potions that they might be asked to make for their term final test.  While they did, Harry browned minced beef and set it aside.  Then he started slowly cooking the onion, celery, and carrot in the same pan, scraping up the fond with a wooden spatula.  He then added bacon cut into thin strips, after giving Hedwig her due rashers first of course, and once the bacon was cooked, he added some tomato paste and a mixture of spices. 

“Wow, that smells really good,” Padma said.  “And it’s barely close to ready?”

“Still got a while yet,” Harry nodded. 

“I thought your aunt and uncle didn’t like foreign food,” Parvati said.

“They don’t count some Italian things for some reason,” Harry shrugged.  “I’ve never really been able to figure out what they think is acceptable and what isn’t.  They got so upset when they learned that a kebab isn’t technically British.”

“What?!”  Hermione looked gobsmacked.  “How could they possibly think that a kebab is British?!”

“Like I said, I have no idea,” Harry said weakly.  “They tried to save face and say it wasn’t something ‘proper people’ should eat after being told and they couldn’t prove otherwise.”

After the tomato paste turned a dull red, Harry added beef broth and double cream and a rind of parmesan cheese.  He stirred it until it was smooth and turned the heat so it came to a light boil before turning it down so that it simmered slowly.  “There, all done for now,” Harry said, looking satisfied.  “Now we wait until it’s ready.”

They continued to study, moving from potions to charms, then transfiguration.  After they finished transfiguration, they decided to take a break.  Hermione sat with Sue and Padma, discussing a finer point on their transfiguration notes.  Neville and Harry talked at the stove while Harry stirred the simmering sauce. 

Millicent and Pansy wandered over to Parvati and Lavender who had taken her case out and started working on something.  “Oh wow, where did you get that?” Millicent said, looking at Lavender’s sewing kit.

“It was a Christmas gift,” Lavender said happily and proudly.  “Isn’t it great?”

“I’ll say,” Millicent said.  “That’s a legacy case, from a really high-end crafts company: Sartorious’ Sartorial Supplies.  They’re super high quality and really expensive.”

Lavender looked at her case.  “Really?” she asked, eyes widening a little.

“Oh yeah, that sort of thing is something professional tailors would want.  My family has one that’s basically an heirloom.  Whoever got you the case must really like you.” 

Pansy noticed the look that Lavender and Parvati shared, and she saw how Lavender looked across at Harry.  Realizing what the looks meant made her squirm a little inside. 

“It’s really that valuable?” Lavender asked in a small voice.

Millicent nodded.  “All the things inside, the tools, are made by hand and by enchantment.  My family does lots of fabric and clothing related things so a lot of the tools they use come from Sartorious’.”  She flushed a little, waiting for the inevitable reaction.

“Your family does stuff with clothes?” Lavender and Parvati asked, eyes lighting up with interest.

“Mostly shipping fabrics and materials but we have a small branch of the business that makes things,” Millicent said, looking visibly confused by the response.

“That’s so cool,” Parvati gushed.  “So you have to know a lot about fashion stuff right?”

“Not so much on fashion really,” Millicent blushed, “but kinda familiar.  I know more about materials and things.”

“I actually have some questions about magical fabric things,” Lavender started and soon a very lively conversation started between the three girls, with Millicent growing more enthusiastic as they chatted.

Pansy was happy for her.  Many who saw Millicent, being broader in stature than most girls, made many assumptions about what she liked.  Many made cruel comments regarding her and her family business.  Pansy knew that Millicent had always been reserved due to her size and to be so readily accepted by the other two girls made all the difference to her.

Pansy left them to their clothing conversation and walked to Harry and Neville.  Seeing her arrive, Neville finished talking and left them, shooting Pansy a nervous glance as he passed.  “I didn’t interrupt anything again, did I?” she asked, watching Neville walk away.

“No, I think he’s still a bit nervous around you,” Harry said.

“How can you tell from his usual nervousness?” she asked dryly before flushing, clapping a hand to her mouth.

“Yeah, that’s probably partially why,” Harry said wryly.  “You and Draco weren’t too nice to him last term during Potions.”

“I…no I wasn’t,” she admitted quietly. 

Harry released a breath.  “I know you’re trying to be nicer, I can tell.  So I kinda feel bad asking you this directly, but you’re not planning anything mean, are you?”

“I am not,” she said firmly, glaring at him.  “Why?”

“Parvati seems to think so,” Harry said sheepishly.  He choked a little when Pansy turned to glare at Parvati who waved back cheerily when she noticed the glare.  “Can you blame her?”

“No, I can’t,” Pansy said mournfully, looking at the stone floor. 

“Like I said, I know you’ve been nicer,” Harry repeated.  “And I really appreciate it.  It just…it might take a bit for the others to warm up to you too.”

Pansy noticed the end of his statement and felt a little better.  “I understand, I will keep trying to be…more pleasant.”  She flushed again.  “But I have…what my mother charitably calls a tea tongue.”  Seeing Harry’s look of confusion, she sighed.  “I can be rather acrid, only unlike tea, unpleasantly so.  Basically, I say mean things.”

“I’ve noticed,” Harry deadpanned, making her giggle.  “You’re trying though, and that’s good of you.  Just try and be less unpleasantly acrid to the others if you can.”

“I’ll try,” she said softly.  She sniffed the air delicately when he took the cover off the pot.  A rush of deep savory scents washed over her.  The air was rich with hearty tomato and cream, warm and inviting.  “That smells wonderful,” she said softly.

Harry dipped the tip of a spoon into the sauce and tasted it.  “Mmm, I think it’s close to being finished.  Just needs a bit more salt and pepper and I’ll add grated parmesan cheese with the noodles.”  He wiped the spoon clean and dipped it back into the sauce, then held the handle to Pansy.  “Here, try it.”

She took it and blew on it gently before tasting it.  Her eyes popped open and she licked her lips clean.  “That’s incredible!  It’s so rich and creamy!”

“Great!”  Harry had a pot of water bubbling away at a fast boil and he threw in handfuls of dried spaghetti noodles.  “Now we cook the spaghetti until it’s just about done and then I finish it in the sauce with a little bit of pasta water.  The starch that cooks out of the noodles really helps the sauce bind to them when you toss them together.”

“I never thought cooking was this intricate,” Pansy said as she watched the noodles roil in the boiling water. 

“It can be.  In Muggle supermarkets there are jars of prepared sauce.  You don’t even have to do anything to them aside from heating them up.  Then you throw in some noodles and that’s it.  It tastes way different though.”

“You’ve spent hours on this,” Pansy said, pointing at the large pot of Bolognese sauce.  “So much effort to make something that will not last long.”

“You like how it tastes though, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then that’s worth the effort.  To me at least.”  He stirred the sauce slowly, waiting for the noodles to cook.  “All I ever want is for a person to smile when they eat something I’ve cooked.  For them to say that they like the taste, that they’re happier because they ate something I made.”

“How can anyone not say that when they taste your cooking?” Pansy asked sincerely.  “I’ve only had your muffin and soup before and they were wonderful.”

“You’d be surprised,” Harry said sadly.  He shook his head and the sadness disappeared.  “But yeah, some things you have to spend a lot of time and effort on it.  But the results can be worthwhile.”

Pansy looked at the bubbling pot, not quite sure what to say to that.  She flinched lightly when Hedwig swooped by and landed neatly on Harry’s shoulder.  “Your owl is very affectionate.”

“Isn’t she great?” Harry said proudly.  He held his left arm out and Hedwig waddled down the length, resting on his forearm.  “She’s my first real friend.”

“Really?”  Pansy took a step back at Hedwig’s sudden glare.

“Really,” Harry said, patting Hedwig’s head, smoothing out her feathers.  “I didn’t have any and the day I found out I was a wizard from Hagrid, he took me to Diagon and got me Hedwig.”  Hedwig nuzzled him fondly but when Harry looked away, the owl glared at Pansy once more, narrowing her eyes.

“She eats human food?” Pansy asked when Harry let her taste from his sauce spoon.

“Yeah.  I’ve checked with Hagrid and he doesn’t think feeding her different foods owls normally don’t eat is too bad.  She’s never gotten sick as I’ve seen.  She’s pretty picky on some things though, adores bacon as you saw.”  He smiled when Hedwig licked her beak and bobbed her head approvingly.  “She’s a great taste tester.”

Harry strained the noodles and in a separate pot, put them in with heaping ladles of sauce.  He added a bit of the pasta water to combine the sauce and mixed the noodles with the Bolognese until the noodles gleamed with rich red sauce and meat.  He piled each plate with pasta, including one for Hedwig, and set them on the long table.  “Okay, it’s ready everyone.”

“That smells incredible,” Hermione said.  “Just like ones we’ve had at home!”

Harry sat with them but did not eat first, waiting with baited breath while everyone else took bites of the dish. 

“Wow, where has this been all my life?” Millicent asked.  “This is so good!”

“I’ve never had anything like this,” Sue said admiringly.  “It’s so rich and tasty.”

“This is better than some I’ve had,” Hermione gasped. 

Harry tucked in, satisfied in heart while satisfying his stomach.  The thick red sauce clung to the noodles perfectly, creamy and satisfying.  The meat was soft and the vegetables were softer still, falling apart with the slightest pressure.  The noodles were chewy, slightly past al dente as he preferred them to be, and it was a very warm and satiating dish.

“Go ahead and take more if you want,” he encouraged.  “There’s plenty of sauce for the House Elves and Professor Flitwick, I can always boil more noodles.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Parvati said.  “Thank you, Harry!  This is delicious.”

“This is a Muggle dish?” Neville asked. 

Harry nodded.  “There’s a place called Bologna in Italy where the sauce is supposed to come from.  But there’s been so many variations on the recipe.  Oh!”  He looked at the Patil sisters.  “Kinda like curries come to think of it.”

“That’s a nice comparison,” Padma said.  “Same name, different ways to make it.”

“That’s so strange,” Pansy said.  “Not like potions at all where it’s usually all done the same way.  Though I suppose there are people who try to come up with different procedures.”

“We’ll have to ask Zabini if he’s familiar with this,” Millicent.  “He’s Italian.  Or at least half of him is.”

“The annoying half,” Pansy said and she and Millicent burst out laughing.

“Nah, both halves are annoying,” Millicent snickered.

“Oh so you lot mock each other too then,” Sue observed.

“We usually do it inside the House,” Millicent said.  “But yeah, we do.”

“How did Hedwig not get messy?” Parvati said, watching Hedwig finish her plate and not a drop of sauce on a single feather.

“She’s very talented,” Harry praised.  “But she can be messy when she wants to be.”  He sighed when she dipped her beak in a bit of remaining sauce and wiped it on his cheek, making the others laugh uproariously.  “See?”

They ate until each person was very full.  Inky came and went, delivering Flitwick’s portion and taking her and the other Elves’ share gleefully while dropping off some more groceries for them.  After they finished studying, Lavender and Harry made biscuits and they sat around, smelling the biscuits bake.

“Look at you acting like an expert baker,” Parvati laughed.

“Harry’s the expert, but I’m getting better,” Lavender said proudly.  “It’s fun now that I know how to do it better.”  The biscuits were placed on racks to cool but a good portion of them would not survive long, eaten eagerly by everyone there.

“Mmm, they’re great,” Neville said happily.  “Even better than the ones I’ve had at home and our Elves are really good bakers.”

“Where did the recipe come from?” Hermione asked as she chewed blissfully on one.

“Harry’s recipe,” Lavender smiled.  “It’s so simple but really nice.  Everyone at home said it was good.”  She bit into one and shook her head.  “Yours are still better.”

“I’ve had more practice than you,” Harry said.  “Yours taste super good,” he praised, making her smile brightly. 

“Is it me or is there a difference between them?” Sue asked.  “No offense, but when you said Harry’s taste really good, they really do.  Not to say yours don’t of course, Lavender, but there’s a difference.”

“None taken!” Lavender said spritely.  “We’ve learned that magic leaves a taste in things and Harry’s been practicing on what leaves more of a taste and what doesn’t.  But Harry’s cooking does taste super good, doesn’t it?”

“Magic leaves a taste?”  Sue and Hermione looked really interested. 

“Oh yeah, we’ve been exploring that and hope to figure out more later,” Harry said.

“Wish I knew about this sooner,” Sue sighed.  “I’ll be sure to join next year.  Especially if I can eat some different things.  I’ve missed home cooking too while here.”

“That’s how we’ve been getting our fix for home cooking,” Parvati said and Padma nodded. 

“Thanks for organizing this,” Padma said as they cleaned up the clubroom and were getting ready to leave.  “I think the group studying helped a lot, not to mention eating Harry’s wonderful cooking.”

“Can we do it again?” Neville asked eagerly with others nodding and making noises of assent.

“We can try.  Professor Flitwick doesn’t think I’ll burn down the castle anymore,” Harry laughed.  “But we can still meet and study together elsewhere too.”

“Thank you for inviting us,” Pansy said softly and sincerely.

“Yeah, this was great,” Millicent smiled.

With waves and goodbyes, they all split off to go to their respective common rooms. 

“Good idea Parvati,” Lavender said to her best friend.

“I’m full of them,” Parvati said smugly. 

“Full of something alright,” Lavender smiled, giggling when Parvati shoved her.

“You really have cooked for a very long time,” Hermione said frankly to Harry.  “I’ll admit I didn’t think much of it but what you made today, you can’t deny that.”

“Like I said, I’ve had a lot of practice,” Harry said quietly. 

“It was really good, thanks Harry,” Neville said.

“I’m glad,” Harry smiled warmly.  “It’s nice cooking for you all.”

-0-

“Okay, I’ll be the first to admit that it was weird for you to be friends with Potter but I’m so happy you did,” Millicent said as they made their way back to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons.  “That Bolognese was delicious and the biscuits were too.”

“And you got to be friendly with Brown and Patil,” Pansy said with a soft smile.

“Yeah.”  Millicent’s voice was equally soft.  “They were really nice.  At first I thought they’d be kinda…ditzy and rude you know?  Mean in a different way but they weren’t.  When they were asking me fabric questions and stuff, they weren’t judging me.  They actually were interested and nice.”

“I was surprised too, the first time I interacted with them.  They’re refreshingly…open.” 

“Why’d you glare at Patil by the way?”

Pansy blushed.  “Harry told me that she thought I had ill motive for befriending him.”

“Oh, well, can’t really blame her for thinking that,” Millicent said with a small shrug.

“I suppose not,” Pansy sighed.  “Harry doesn’t think so, well, he asked me and seemed to believe me when I said I wasn’t planning something.”

Millicent looked at her.  “That’s good,” she said eventually.  “If you told me we’d ever willingly spend time with other Houses and actually enjoy it, I’d say you’d be wrong.  But look at us tonight.”

“It was very enjoyable,” Pansy agreed.  “I even found Granger less annoying.”

“Me too,” Millicent snickered. 

They walked on and the normally chillier air in the depths of the castle did not feel quite so cold. 

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

14^th Course – Reclamation

“Ah Nicolas, good to see you.”

The man shook Dumbledore’s hand energetically.  He was undeniably old, yet the way he held himself and acted made him seem somehow younger than the obviously wizened Dumbledore.  He had a very short and neat beard and goatee, trim grey and black hair, and bright blue eyes.  “Albus, good to see you as well.  The years have been kind to you.”

Dumbledore chuckled richly.  “Not as kind as you.”

“Well I have the benefit of some aid in that regard,” Nicolas Flamel smiled.  “And speaking of.”  He held out his hand and took the red stone from Dumbledore.  It pulsed in his hand, feeling warm and cool at the same time.  “Did it help with your experimentation?”

“It is what we assumed; the power is a bit too robust for the rituals I had in mind.”

“Pity.  Well when I have some free time, perhaps we can work together and create a powered stone that would fit your needs and not exceed them.”

“I would enjoy that, thank you.  I will let you know my schedule since I assume an undertaking would require some undivided attention.  How is Perenelle?  I am surprised she did not accompany you.”

“She’s having fun in Africa at the moment,” Nicolas smiled.  “She’s in the middle of something or else she would be here too.  You know she enjoys needling you over something.  Though she is in the process of playing matchmaker I do believe.”

“Now that is assistance I do not want,” Dumbledore laughed.

“What, do you not trust my wife’s tastes?” Nicolas asked mildly.

“I am more wary over her sense of decorum,” Dumbledore snorted.

“Well she doesn’t have one,” Nicolas laughed.  “Neither do I honestly.  Got rid of them many decades ago.  Pesky things, gets in the way of proper fun.  You should try and do the same.”

“I am an Englishman,” Dumbledore smiled.

“Well no need to admit it out loud,” Nicolas teased and the two men laughed some more.  “How are things here?  The school year is over, yes?”

“Just about.  The major tests are done and it is mostly the clean-up and winding down time of the year,” Dumbledore said.  “We have a fine class of graduates and the year has been fairly quiet otherwise.”

“That is good.  I spent some time visiting Maxime a few months ago.  She was getting her lot ready for this year’s Fair.”

“Oh wonderful.  I do hope that Hogwarts can attend that soon,” Dumbledore said wistfully.  “It has been too long since we have.”

“It is a pity,” Nicolas said sympathetically.  “But you have done well in bringing up Hogwarts once more.  Your deeds are not going unnoticed.”

“Thank you for saying that, it makes me feel better.”

“I still have the ear of the committee.  I would be more than happy to say a word or two.”

Dumbledore hummed.  “Not quite yet but I may ask you to do that in the near future.  My next few years probably will not be able to provide a good showing, but I have hopes for the coming years.”  He smiled ruefully.  “I normally have reservations against asking for such help behind the scenes, but personal pride can be swallowed for the benefit of others.”

“I will be happy to.  If you have the connections, might as well use them.”  Nicolas looked over at a snoozing Fawkes.  “Your phoenix looks good but am I right in thinking he has gained weight?”

Dumbledore snorted.  “He has, the lazy thing.  Now there’s a thought.  Would you like to take a walk?  Perhaps I can introduce you to someone and we can have a treat.”

“That sounds nice,” Nicolas said agreeably.  “Would said treat also include walking past Minerva’s office?”

“It could, providing I am far away when you and she get into one of your arguments,” Dumbledore laughed.  “I fully expected her to hex you the last time.”

“She has to learn that the Scots do not own scotch,” Nicolas smiled.

-0-

“Filius mon ami!”

Flitwick paused and turned, smiling broadly and waved.  “Nicolas!  I didn’t know you were here.”

“Albus is ashamed of my company and keeps such news under wraps,” Nicolas sighed woefully.  “Such old friends, and he treats me as such.”

“Hmm, and how did you introduce me to your colleagues the one time?” Dumbledore asked dryly.  “Some chap from England?”

“Was I wrong?” Nicolas asked while Flitwick laughed and Lavender and Harry stared with large eyes.  “And who are these delightful youngsters?”

“Harry, Miss Brown, this irreverent fellow, is Nicolas Flamel,” Dumbledore said warmly.  “Nicolas, this is Harry Potter and Lavender Brown.  Two Gryffindor first years and about to be second years.”  He winked at them.  “And yes, that confirms passing marks on your exams.”

“Hello Sir,” Harry said politely, extending his hand.  “You’re the alchemist, right?”

“I am indeed,” Nicolas said, shaking their hands warmly.  “So you’ve heard of me then?  Perhaps a minor footnote in a textbook?”

“Professor Flitwick mentioned your work a few times, since alchemy combines multiple schools of magic,” Harry said.  “Professor Snape did too.”

“You still have children suffer that man?” Nicolas asked Dumbledore, his comment making them snort and laugh.

“Would you care to fill the post?” Dumbledore countered.

“Not at all, I’m a dreadful instructor, as you would know,” Nicolas laughed merrily.

“No, tell me that he is not here.”  McGonagall’s voice cut through and they saw her standing at the end of the hall leading into the castle’s foyer.  She looked fondly exasperated.  “Please tell me Perenelle is here holding your leash.”

“No she is too busy holding someone else’s,” Nicolas said smiling.  “Good to see you, Minnie.”

“Minnie?” Lavender repeated silently to Harry, giggling mightily at McGonagall’s look.

“And what did I tell you the last time you used that appellation?” McGonagall said crossly as she approached.

“That you love it when I do,” Nicolas grinned.

“Nicolas was always a jolly fellow,” Flitwick told a thoroughly amused Harry and Lavender.  “There are times when he is serious and professional of course, but they are few and far between.”  He turned and saw someone approaching them rapidly.  “Oh dear, Quirinus seems to be bothered.  I wonder what is wrong.”

“H-Headmaster!” Quirrell stammered as he ran up.  “I-I must sp-p-peak with you!”

“Of course, what is wrong?” Dumbledore asked, turning to face the professor.

Harry grunted, rubbing his scar.  He felt compelled to take a step back from Quirrell, feeling his head ache.  He bumped into Lavender who was standing behind him.  “Oh, sorry Lavender.”

Lavender did not say anything.  Instead she clung to him tightly, utterly silent.  She started pulling on his arm.

“Lavender, what’s wrong,” Harry asked, turning to look at her.

She was as white as a sheet and was staring at something above the both of them.  “Harry?” she whimpered and pointed.

Harry turned to look down a side passage and gaped at the gigantic mountain troll that seemed to fill the entire hallway.  The magical creature was monstrous in size and stature, towering over all of them.  Harry gulped when he saw the club that the troll hefted, the length of it was longer than he was tall and the head was enormous.  How it approached them unnoticed, Harry did not know.  He watched the troll raise the club and start to step forward.

He pointed his wand at the stones beneath the troll’s feet and shouted the first incantation that came to mind.  “Scourgify!”  Scrubbing bubbles saturated the stone and when the troll stepped down on the soap-slicked stone, it roared in surprise and anger and slipped.  Harry dove, pushing Lavender down and the club went sailing over them.  Lavender screamed and pulled Harry with her.

The scream and the slamming club on the stone wall alerted the professors and the Headmaster and the alchemist.  After a moment’s shock, they acted.  Flitwick summoned the students to him by their robes, casting a Shield Charm over them.  McGonagall flicked her wand at the suits of empty armor and they sprang to life, launching themselves at the troll. 

“There’s another!” Quirrell shouted as another gigantic form blundered its way up the hallway.  He hissed an incantation and the second troll howled with pain as a rain of stones pelted it, driving it back. 

Dumbledore drew an intricate symbol with his wand and the club in the second troll’s hand became a coil of rope that slithered around the troll, binding it tightly.  “Block the foyer!” he shouted, voice deep and full of purpose.  McGonagall slashed with her wand and the wooden plinths at either side of the way into the castle fell and elongated, becoming a wall that blocked the rest of the castle off before transforming into stone.

Flamel reached into his robes and withdrew a vial.  He bit the top off and spat it aside and scattered handfuls of things into it, speaking rapidly in French.  The vial shimmered and the contents turned inky black and he threw it at the first troll.  The vial shattered and the contents spilled out, covering the troll in thick viscous material, making it struggle slowly.  The suits of armor were coated too and they clung to the troll, hampering its movements even more.

“Let’s get out of here,” Flitwick said, voice high from adrenaline but still kind.  He hustled the students in front of him, eager to escape the coming melee.

“Watch out!” Harry shouted, pushing back against Lavender and Flitwick.  A third troll came out of another side passage and it swung its club, shattering stone and brick and everything in between.  Harry pushed Lavender into Flitwick and dove, arms over his head.  His push sent the girl and the professor flying back, out of the way of falling stones and separating them.  He rolled and tried to scramble up but tripped and he went flying into the passage.  He landed heavily and his head bounced off the stone, knocking him sluggish.

“Harry!” Lavender shrieked.

Dumbledore turned to look and his attention wavered for a critical second.  The bound troll roared and flexed, snapping the rope that was holding it still.  It charged forward, knocking Quirrell aside with a slap, sending the man flying.  Dumbledore stood his ground and pointed his wand at the troll.  “Impedimenta!”  The troll slammed to a stop, as if hitting an invisible wall and Dumbledore’s face twisted from the effort.  With another wave of his wand, he smashed the troll down and it collapsed into a boneless heap, unconscious. 

He spared a moment to look for Harry and see how Quirrell was but by then the third troll was trying to crush Flitwick and Lavender.  With a shout, he jumped to help, followed by McGonagall and Flamel.

Quirrell shook his head drunkenly as he sat up.  His eyes were bright red however, and he moved in a fashion that was different than usual.  “Fool!” Voldemort hissed.  The blow from the third troll, despite being hastily aimed, was more than enough to send the grown man flying and knock him senseless.  Voldemort’s spirit was able to take control while Quirrell’s consciousness was absent.  “I should have known better than to trust you completely!” 

He watched as the professors and Dumbledore and Nicolas battled the second troll while dealing with the third one that was stirring feebly.  Mountain trolls were notoriously magic resistant and were proving to be difficult to handle. 

With how furiously they were fighting, Quirrell/Voldemort had no way to ambush Nicolas and take the stone.  The opportunity was wasted.

Voldemort hissed in agony, feeling the skin on his host’s arm burn.  He realized that he had flown into Harry, knocking the boy over and the two of them falling into the side passage with the first troll that was still fighting its way from the black goo that Nicolas had thrown over it.  As Voldemort reeled back, he paused, feeling something else besides intense pain and burning.

“No…can it be?” he whispered to himself.  He flicked the wand and Harry turned over, groaning fitfully.  Voldemort stared at the scar on Harry’s forehead and he felt a tiny pulse that throbbed deeply in his fractured soul.

Recognition.

Voldemort looked at the battling professors, then looked down at Harry.  An idea flashed into being in his mind and he grinned savagely.  He held his right hand over Harry’s scar and snarled.  “Return to me, return what is mine!”

Harry screamed.  He felt like his head would explode and he grabbed it with his hands as if to hold it together.  Pressure grew and grew until he felt his skull and skin tear.  Thick liquid spilled from his scar and his scream increased in volume and intensity before he fell back, falling into blissful unconsciousness.

Voldemort roared aloud from agony and exhilaration.  The returning soul piece filled him with strength and pain and he felt the blood within Quirrell burn with this influx of magical strength and something more.  Voldemort knew he had to do something with this excess magic or else it would consume him, not to mention provide some kind of alibi.

The first troll continued to struggle, trapped by the muck.  It growled impotently at Voldemort, gnashing its teeth at him.

“You will do,” Voldemort said, smiling cruelly.

As the two other trolls were brought down and restrained, a gigantic roar of sound and an intense shriek of inhuman pain filled the air.  A massive gout of fire exploded down the side passage, a tidal wave of flames spilling out and slamming into the opposite wall, burning the stones black.

“Harry!” Lavender screamed.  She had managed to stay out of the fight, watching with awe at her instructors fighting.  Now she turned and was about to run towards the dying flames but was held back by McGonagall.

“He’s okay!” a voice called out, coughing and hacking.  Quirrell appeared, carrying a senseless Harry in his arms, wrapped in his overrobes and turban.  “For the most part,” he said as he slumped to the ground and deposited Harry neatly on the ground.  “A bit singed, but so am I.”

Flitwick and Nicolas bent over Harry with the former casting spells and the latter withdrawing more vials and gently sprinkling the contents over the boy.  Dumbledore breathed a large sigh of relief, seeing Harry breathing, before turning to Quirrell.  “And you?  Are you okay Quirinus?”

“I’ll be fine, I think,” Quirrell said, holding up shaking hands.  His hands were burned, skin showing red and black and pale white.  “I had to use the strongest spell I knew to take care of that first brute.  It was about to kill us.”

“You did well,” Dumbledore said.  “You did what you must have and you protected Harry.”  He paused and peered closely.  “Any other injuries?”

Quirrell shook his head, blinking slowly.  His eyes were brown in the lantern light.  “I-I don’t think s-so.”

“Albus, the boy is stable.  His magic is in flux but in the presence of the spells here, that’s not unheard of,” Nicolas said.  “We should get him to the Infirmary.”

“Of course.”  Dumbledore turned away from Quirrell.  “You and Filius take him, take Miss Brown with you.  Quirinus, go with them and get your wounds treated as well.  Minerva, make sure the rest of the school is safe, bring all the students to the Great Hall.  Have the ghosts patrol the school to look for other interlopers.  Fawkes!”  The phoenix appeared in a flash of fire and light.  “To the Auror department at the Ministry.  I will require their attention.”

Fawkes trilled and disappeared with another flash.

As the others left, Dumbledore resecured the bindings on the other two trolls and looked at the remains of the first one.  The intensity of the fire spell had burned flesh and skin away, leaving charred and blackened bone.  The fire had melted the suits of armor and they bonded to the corpse, smoldering and smoking.  Eventually he turned and saw Snape approach.

“The ghosts have not found any other trolls,” Snape said without preamble.  “There is a broken gate on the far side of the castle with signs of things beaten with clubs.”

“That is how they entered,” Dumbledore mused.  “The question is, why?  We are far from any of the mountain troll caves and we have nothing here that would entice them.”

“As far as we know,” Snape said.

“True,” Dumbledore conceded.

“What happened to this one?” Snape asked, staring at the burned corpse with horrid fascination.

“It was the first to attack.  Mister Potter and Miss Brown alerted us to its presence.  Minerva animated some suits of armor while Nicolas hit it with his growing sticking goo.  Quirinius and Potter were knocked down this passageway while we were dealing with the other two and next I know, Quirinius dispatched it with a very violent fire spell.”

“It must have been to render the troll into this state,” Snape murmured.  “And Quirrell and the boy were unharmed?”

“Aside from blood and bruises and some mild burns, yes.”

“That seems…fortunate,” Snape said slowly.

“It does.  And I have never known anything to be able to break away from Nicolas’ sticking creations like that,” Dumbledore said softly.

Snape looked at the burned stones all around the hallway and at the opposing wall.  “I was unaware Quirrell could cast at this magnitude.”

“Stressful situations can cause a magical to cast things at a higher strength than usual,” Dumbledore said diplomatically. 

The other man grunted.  “Flamel still has the Stone?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“Then Quirrell either failed at his target or the Stone was not his target,” Snape said.

“And I cannot delve too deeply now since he did save Mister Potter’s life,” Dumbledore said.  “Perhaps all of this was some kind of misunderstanding.”

Snape snorted deeply.  “You are not that naïve, are you?”

“Sometimes I wish I was,” Dumbledore said softly.  Fawkes reappeared, holding a piece of parchment with the Auror symbol on it.  “Ah, they have arrived.  Let us see if their investigation can provide any additional information.”

-0-

Harry groaned.  His head ached and throbbed and his limbs felt like they were encased in mud and stone. 

“Mister Potter, lie easy,” Poppy Pomfrey, Matron Healer of Hogwarts, said gently.

He opened his eyes, squinting myopically as he did as bidden.  “Am I in the Infirmary?” he asked, his voice raspy and rough.

“I am glad to see that the head injury did not rob you of your senses,” Pomfrey joked lightly.  “How are you feeling?”

“My head hurts,” Harry said.  He took his glasses back from her and put them on.  “But okay I guess.”

“You hit your head rather hard on the stone,” Pomfrey said.  “And I believe you cut your forehead from something else, you lost a bit of blood.  Luckily no brain damage as far as we can tell, not even a concussion.”

“I was told I had a thick skull,” Harry said sheepishly.

Pomfrey blinked.  “Well, perhaps and it seemed to have spared you some damage,” she said.  “You have been unconscious for two days healing but if things progress as expected, you should be out soon.  You are healing rather well to be honest.  And that is very good.”

Harry then remembered the events leading up to him hitting his head.  “Is everyone okay?  Did anyone get hurt?”

“You were the worst hurt.  Professor Quirrell had some bruising and burns but otherwise was fine.  Everyone else was mostly unhurt as well, thankfully.”

Harry laid back, relieved.  “Thank goodness,” he said.

“I agree,” Pomfrey said.  “There is someone who would like to see you.  I can deny them, if need be, but they are rather insistent.  Do you feel up to it?”

“I guess so,” Harry said.

“Let me know if you need the rest and I will chase them away.”  Pomfrey left his bedside and after a few moments, Dumbledore approached, sitting down on the chair beside him. 

“Harry,” he said, looking happy to see Harry awake.  “How are you feeling?”

“My head is a bit sore, but otherwise okay.  How are you?”

Dumbledore laughed at that.  “I am fine, doing much better after seeing you awake.  You did a very brave thing, Harry.  A credit to your character.”

“I did?”  Harry blushed.

“You saved Miss Brown,” Dumbledore said firmly.  “Your quick thinking with the spell and pushing her down not once but twice spared her from harm.”

“Oh, right.  I just…I didn’t think, I just reacted,” Harry said lamely.

“Your instincts took over and it was a good thing.  You did well, Harry, do not think otherwise.”

Harry blinked slowly, staring at Dumbledore.  “Thank you, Sir,” he said at last.  “And she’s really okay?”

“She is fine.  Been a bit belligerent about visiting you, as some others have as well.”  He smiled.  “Perhaps I can convince Madam Pomfrey to allow them to see you.”

“Yes please,” Harry said eagerly.

“I will do my best.  She is the law in this wing, however, and not even my words can sway her all the time.”  Dumbledore sobered.  “Do you remember anything, when you were knocked down the side passage with Professor Quirrell?”

Harry shook his head.  “Not really.  I remember hitting my head.  Oh!  I remembered thinking my head was going to split open at one point.  There was a lot of pressure and then it stopped and I think I bled a little, from my scar.  It hurt right before the trolls appeared.”

Dumbledore leaned in, looking interested.  “Your scar hurt you?”

“Yes Sir.  There’s been times where it tingled and felt funny but it hurt a lot and then the trolls appeared and I forgot about it.”

“Does it hurt now?”

Another headshake.  “No Sir.  I feel fine, actually fine, really.”

Dumbledore leaned back.  “Well, do let me and Madam Pomfrey know if anything changes.  I want to thank you again, Harry, for your bravery and selflessness.  You acted intelligently and courageously.”  A soft smile grew.  “Your parents would be as proud as I am.”

Harry felt tears prickling but his smile was broad.  “Thank you, Sir.”

“No, thank you, Harry.”

-0-

“Harry!”  Lavender came running into the Infirmary, ignoring Pomfrey’s half-hearted attempts at making her walk slowly and not shout.  With a shake of her head and a knowing smile, the Matron looked the other way. 

“Are you okay?” Lavender asked, looking as if to launch herself at him but stopping at the last minute.

“I feel okay, really,” he said soothingly.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Lavender said, releasing a huge sigh of relief.  She sat beside his bed.  “You saved me.  You protected me, Harry.”

“Uhm, yeah, guess I did,” he said lamely.

“Why did you do that?” she asked in a frantic half-whisper.  “You could have gotten really hurt!  You did get really hurt!”

“Why did I do that?”  Harry gave her an exasperated look.  “Lavender, you’re my friend, like my best friend.  I’ve told you that you’re my first real friend, aside from Hedwig.”  They shared a laugh.  “How could I let you get hurt?”

“You really mean that?” Lavender asked in a shocked quiet tone.

“Of course I do.”  He reached up to touch her forehead.  “Did you hit your head too?”  He smiled when she smacked his hand away.

She looked happy and frustrated in equal measure.  “You’re my best friend too, aside from Parvati,” she giggled.  Her giggling died and she looked forlorn.  “I was so worried about you.  I…I was so scared for you.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said weakly.  “Not for saving you but for making you feel bad.”

She snorted and dabbed her eyes.  “Thank you, for saving me,” she said softly.

“Thank you for being my friend,” he said just as softly.

“Can, can I hug you?” she asked plaintively.  “I know you don’t like them that much but I could really use one and I want to give you one.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.  Sure.  I mean,” he gulped, flushing furiously, “I would like one,” he said.  “It’s just, you’re going to laugh at me…”

“I promise I won’t,” she said earnestly.

“I’ve never hugged anyone before,” he admitted so very quietly.  “Hedwig is the very first one and I know she likes them but I’ve never hugged anyone else or been hugged as far as I know.  I…I didn’t want to tell you because that’s dumb and I didn’t want to…do it wrong, you know?”

Lavender had never felt like laughing less in all her life.  “Well, I’ll help you practice,” she said, sniffling slightly.  “And it’s not dumb at all.”

“Oh, thank you.”  He opened his arms uncertainly and when Lavender enveloped him in her arms, he relaxed slightly.  “This is nice,” he said awkwardly but sincerely, his arms gently encircling her.  He coughed when she squeezed harder.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“You’d tell me if you needed help with something, right?”

He hesitated.  “Yeah, I mean, yes.”

“Okay, good.  Because I’m still a little worried for you,” she whispered.

“I swear I’ll tell you if I need your help,” he promised.

“Because we’re friends?” she asked.

“Because we’re best friends,” he answered.  He coughed again when she tightened her arms again but it was only a small cough and he did not mind the pressure in the slightest.

-0-

“You’re okay!” Parvati said happily.

Lavender had left briefly and came back with Parvati, Padma, Neville, Hermione, Sue, Pansy, and Millicent.  Pomfrey had given them a look and sighed but said they could visit as long as they remained quiet and that Harry was still delicate.  She had then smiled cheerily at his look and the subsequent giggling and snickering from the others before moving to her office.

“You all really came to visit me?” Harry asked, eyes wide with surprise.

“Of course we did,” Padma chided gently.  “You’re our friend and we care about you.”

“She even found out where our common room was,” Millicent admiringly, hiking a thumb at a blushing Lavender.  “Pounded on the door for ages before Professor Snape noticed and he came and got me and Pansy.”

“Well, you deserved to see him too,” Lavender said, still red.  “You’re his friends too, right?”

“We are,” Pansy said.  Her eyes were a bit red and she sniffled a little.  “Thank Merlin you are okay Harry.”

“Thanks for visiting me,” Harry said.  He was dreadfully embarrassed by the attention and felt very warm from it. 

“Did you really fight off three trolls?” Hermione asked.  “That’s what everyone is saying.”

“No, the professors and the Headmaster and Mr. Flamel did,” Harry laughed.  “I sort of was there.”

“He saved my life,” Lavender said stoutly, making everyone gasp and look at Harry in a new light.  “And he cast a spell that tripped the troll before it could hit us.”

“What did you cast?” Neville asked eagerly.

“The Scouring Charm,” Harry said lamely.  “It was all I could think of and I aimed it at the stone beneath its foot and it slipped.”

“That was really smart of you,” Parvati said admiringly.  “I never would have thought of that.”

“Seriously, that’s amazing,” Neville said, awed.

“Well, uh, thanks,” Harry stammered. 

“And you really met Nicolas Flamel?” Sue asked.

“Briefly.  He couldn’t stay long after but he told the Headmaster that he would return and he would want to see me again.”  Harry shrugged.  “I don’t know why to be honest but he seemed nice.”

They sat and chatted around Harry’s bed before eventually he yawned.  As if on cue, Pomfrey appeared.  “Okay, you all have visited enough and Mister Potter’s delicate condition requires more rest.”  She smiled once more at his look.  “Let him rest and he will see you all tomorrow and for the departing feast.”

“Yes Madam,” they chorused.

“See you tomorrow, Harry,” Parvati said cheerily. 

“We’ll come and fetch you in the morning,” Lavender said.

“Sounds good, can’t wait,” Harry said sleepily.  “Thank you for coming.  It was really nice to see you.  I’m glad you’re my friends.”

Pansy was the last to go.  “I am glad you are mine,” she whispered before she left.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

15^th Course – Plans and Plans

Lucius Malfoy was many things.  He was the head of a very old and important magical family, a Pureblooded one of course.  He was arrogant, fully believing in his own superiority in all things.  He was intelligent, well read and learned.  Above all, he was very careful.  One had to be to survive in the magical world.

So when he was made aware that someone had gotten into his study in his manor, without his express permission, he knew he had to tread carefully.  Obviously the intruder was talented to get past his wards and defenses.  Also the intruder must have been very stupid to dare trespass.  And stupid people did things in unexpected ways that would lead to further problems.

Lucius opened the door to his study and frowned when he saw the shadowy figure sitting behind his desk.  He looked around the room, seeing that everything seemed to still be in place.  “You must be very brave and very stupid to break into my home,” Lucius said coldly.  When the figure did not react as he expected, shivering and nervously like most did when Lucius spoke that way, his interest grew.  As did his ire.

The figure chuckled.  “One cannot break in when one has been invited as a guest.”

“I was not aware a robber could be invited,” Lucius replied, closing the door behind him and pointing his wand at the man. 

“You wound me,” the man said dryly.  “I thought your loyalty was beyond reproach.”

“Precious few actually have my loyalty,” Lucius said slowly.  “Despite what many claim.”

“I counted myself as one of them.  Surely you have not forgotten me?  I would call you old friend but we both know that would be a lie.”

Lucius froze.  No, it cannot be.

The man drew the cowl back and Lucius blinked when he saw the man.  “I know you.  You are Quirrell, the professor for Defense against the Dark Arts.  How did you get into my home?”

Quirrell smiled and the expression felt very odd on his face.  “I thought you would be better at seeing masks, Lucius, considering you wear one every day.”  His eyes flickered and his features crawled ever so slightly.

Lucius’s heart stopped.  “My Lord?” he asked quietly, almost disbelieving.

Voldemort’s smile grew.  “I knew you would figure it out eventually.  You always were the cleverest of the ones that followed me.”

Lucius did not put his wand away but pointed the tip down.  “You cannot be…wholly…Voldemort.  I remember meeting you when you accepted the post.  You were completely different, felt completely different.”  He frowned.  “But my wards would allow Voldemort to pass.  What is this?”

Voldemort leaned back in the chair.  “You are correct.  I am not wholly here.  My remnant was able to find solace in Quirrell, sharing his body so to speak.  He wholly accepted me and I laid dormant within him.  Matters came to a head however and I have been able to exert more control.  My magic is mine and that is what your protections recognized.  More or less.”

Lucius sat in a chair that was a comfortable distance from Voldemort.  “I see.  So you did not die that night, not entirely.”

“No, I did not.  I told you all that I had found a way beyond death,” Voldemort said.  “And I am still here.  Admittedly diminished in form and strength, but I still live.”

“So is Quirrell…aware?”

Voldemort’s face twisted.  “He is and is not.  When he is in command of the body, I do not know all his thoughts and actions.  Before I was unable to assert control really.  I could appear and speak but that was the limit.  However, something changed recently where I have recovered a portion of strength, and now that I am stronger, I can be in control for moments at a time.  At a cost of course, but one Quirrell will pay willingly and be rewarded handsomely for.”

Lucius suppressed a shiver.  “I see.  I am honored that you came to me first, my Lord.”

“You should be,” Voldemort said arrogantly.  “Because you are in the best position to benefit the most from my newest plan, one that would see your name be recognized not only in the United Kingdom, but the world.”

Lucius’ eyes lit up and he almost licked his lips in anticipation.  “And what would your newest plan be?”

Voldemort steepled his fingers.  “I have been thinking since the disastrous end of the last war.  I realized something.  While we outnumbered our enemies, one must admit that the quality of our quantity was lacking.”

Lucius smiled thinly.  “One could say that.”

“Dumbledore was able to curate a smaller but more talented group of followers.  Why do you think that was?”  At Lucius’ silence, he continued.  “I believe it was due to his position.”

“His position?”  Lucius thought for a moment.  “You mean, Headmaster of Hogwarts?”

“Precisely.  He was able to see the talents of the students and draw the ones he wanted to him.  To influence them.”

“The idea has merit,” Lucius admitted.  “I do not think he will be leaving the position any time soon however, despite his age.”

“No, and I am not patient enough to wait.  Nor do I wish to challenge him as I am.  Therefore, we will do something else.”  Voldemort leaned forward.  “We will create our own school.”

Lucius laughed.  “Just like that?”

“Is it so difficult?” Voldemort asked.  “You are a school governor.  You understand the intricacies and the procedures.  You understand how to run a school.  With your connections, we can obtain the necessary permissions, find the right place, and build our ideal of a proper school.  A school for Purebloods only, one to develop their talent, one to assert our dominance.  One led by the Malfoys, made possible because of the Malfoys.”

His voice faded into a honeyed whisper.  “Think of it.  A school, a paragon ideal of Pureblood supremacy.  One recognized as the rising star, to eclipse the setting sun of Hogwarts.  Students will flock to it, fight for the privilege of attending.  We will mold their minds, let them see the possibilities, to seize the opportunities.  To take the name of Wizarding Britain outside of the shores of our country to the shores of others.  To be recognized by all the magicals around the world.”

Lucius felt his heartbeat quicken.  Voldemort’s words were playing on his spine, sending shivers of pleasure up and down his body.  “And from there, the right students will take the right occupations and positions, further cementing the ideal, the future.”

“Precisely!” Voldemort hissed eagerly.  “You see it?  You see the glorious future?”

Lucius could see it; he could see it clearly.  “Hogwarts has been an institution for ages,” he said reluctantly.

“True,” Voldemort conceded.  “But we both know that it is mostly due to its prestige that it is the largest school in the United Kingdom and the oldest.  Most want their children to go out of tradition.  That said, we both know that there are some who go because there are no other good local options.  If there was another good option however…”

“There would be ones that would take it, especially if we provide a more comprehensive and appropriate curriculum,” Lucius finished smoothly.  He thought for a few moments.  “It will take some time, years at the minimum.  Not to mention considerable resources.”

“We can wait years,” Voldemort said.  “I know I ask much of you but again, remember the rewards.  Remember the investment.  I also have some access to valuables that I will give to you in compensation.”  He rubbed his hands.  “In my years of shadow, I thought long and hard on where I failed.  I tried to obtain things through force.  This time, I will succeed through subtlety.  We will take control of Wizarding Britain in such a way that it will be impossible to undo.”

Lucius was no fool.  He knew that when Voldemort said ‘we’, he truly meant ‘I’.  That being said, the plan had merit despite its infancy and if Lucius could cement his family name and legacy, on an international level, then he would do it.  “And I would be the face of it?”

“Of course.  I will one day make my debut once more, but until then and even past that, all will recognize the Malfoy name for ages to come, all over the world.”

The smile on Lucius’ lips was hungry, the kind a predator wore as it scented prey.  “I will sacrifice much for that.”  He sobered, pulling back from images of that glorious future.  “And what will you be doing, my Lord, until then?”

“I need to recover my strength; I am still a shadow of my former self.  I will also be helping with the planning of course, and there is still something we must do to increase the draw of our soon to be academy.”

“And what is that?”

“Like you said, Hogwarts has a reputation for being one of the finest magical schools.  So we must do something about it.”  Voldemort’s smile was cold and cruel.  “We must tarnish the reputation.  And I know just how to start.  Tell me, do you still have the diary I gave you for safe-keeping?”

“Of course.”  Lucius rose and crossed to the wall beside the desk.  Waving his wand in intricate patterns and muttering incantations, a portion of the wall shifted, revealing a safe.  He tapped it a few times and it clanked and shuddered, slowly opening.  Lucius removed a slim old book and gave it to Voldemort.

Voldemort took it eagerly, running his fingers over the cover.  “Yes, come back to me.”  The book shuddered in his grasp and the cover tore.  A thick viscous fluid that looked like blood-red ink oozed out and it seeped into Voldemort’s hands.  He howled in pain and victory, his skin physically crawling and the bones in his hands and face undulating. 

Lucius looked on with horrid fascination and revulsion, unsure of what he was watching but unable to look away.  When all of the liquid had been absorbed, the book fell from nerveless hands and Voldemort gasped, breathing heavily.  “Are you well?” Lucius asked after a moment.

“Yes…and no,” Voldemort wheezed.  “The reclamation process is painful and taxing, but the benefits are undeniable.”  His features were even more different than they were a moment ago.  His face was sharper, more familiar.  His eyes were slanted slightly, his pupils a dull red.  His voice changed, more deep and cold.  “I cannot do this too swiftly.  I let my want get away from my needs.  I will need time to recover.”

He looked at Lucius, his face twisting and shifting.  “Quirrell knows the broad strokes of the plan.  He knows to obey you as he would obey me.  Use his expertise.”

“I understand, my Lord,” Lucius said. 

“After I wake, I will start on our plan to ruin Hogwarts’ reputation.”  Voldemort’s voice grew tired and softer and he fell back, unconscious.  After a few moments, Quirrell groaned and sat up.  His face had changed once more, becoming what it was before.  His brown eyes flickered and he looked about.  “Oh, my head,” he said, rubbing it.  He looked at Lucius.  “Lord Malfoy?”

A part of Lucius was appalled.  The figure before him still looked vaguely like Voldemort, but there was a definite difference in the tone of voice, the color of the eyes, even how the man spoke and acted.  On a base level, such magic disgusted him and frightened him.  More so since he did not actually know what magic was involved.

The siren call of the future that Voldemort painted drowned out that small part of Lucius, easily and eagerly. 

“Yes Quirrell,” Lucius said calmly.  “Come, we have much to discuss.”

-0-

“You look less than pleased.”

Dumbledore snorted softly.  “That is because I am less than pleased.”  He handed the stack of parchment to McGonagall.  “The final report from the Aurors.”

“Am I going to be wasting my time reading this?” she asked as she took the stack, starting to flip the pages.

“Worse than any meandering essay I have ever read before,” Dumbledore sighed.  “Essentially it boils down to, ‘we have no idea how the trolls got in and you are not in trouble for endangering the lives of others despite it looking like it’.”

“Endangering the lives of others?  What nonsense,” McGonagall sniffed, tossing the stack aside.  “Did they think you opened the door and waved a steak at them, enticing them within?”

“Some did,” Dumbledore said dryly.

Flitwick snorted.  “So basically, nothing learned and nothing solved.”

“Essentially,” Dumbledore agreed.  “I will say I am pleased that nothing truly bad came from the incident and the year ended in a pleasant enough fashion.  That said, I am still disturbed as to why the trolls came down here in the first place and how easily they broke in.”

Hagrid shrugged his immense shoulders.  “I’m sorry, I went to the mountains and hiked about.  Nothing seemed out of sorts.  There shouldn’t have been any reason for three male mountain troll adults to come down like that.”

“No need to be sorry, thank you for your effort,” Dumbledore said.  “I suppose we must be more vigilant in the coming days.”

“And Quirinus is leaving?” Sprout asked.  “I thought his injuries were not permanent?”

“He is leaving and they did not, clean bill of health from St Mungo’s.  If anything, they said he was even healthier compared to his previous physical,” Dumbledore said, frowning slightly.  “He said that after the fight, he wanted to go do some things he had been putting off for quite some time.”  He and Snape shared a small but meaningful look.

“I suppose fighting against three trolls would be a wake-up call to just about anyone,” Sprout said diplomatically.

“I will not begrudge anyone desiring a change in career,” Dumbledore said lightly.  “That said, we are in a bit of a predicament.  Once again, having to find a new Defense professor.”

“In a way, it is good that the post is rotated so often,” Flitwick said with a broad smile.  “It means we have better job security.  As long as we don’t mess up just enough-“  He burst out laughing when Dumbledore threw a piece of wadded up parchment at him and the others snorted and laughed with Snape smiling slightly.

“Thank you, Filius, for always providing entertainment and amusement,” Dumbledore said wryly. 

“Any hopes for a replacement?  I remembered you had difficulty the last time,” Sprout continued.

“I do and I wanted to speak with you all here before I continue with the process.”

“Oh?”  Flitwick looked intrigued.  “As Headmaster, you do not need to ask us first.”

“True, but I am always open to opinions.  Especially when they can be somewhat divisive.”  He coughed awkwardly.  “There is one that has applied and one I would like to ask to apply.  The one who applied is Mister Lockhart.”

“Lockhart, as in Gilderoy Lockhart?  That popinjay?!” Pomfrey exploded, making everyone turn to stare at her.

“Please, make your opinion known,” Dumbledore smiled.

“I think she already did,” Hagrid laughed. 

“I share her reservations,” McGonagall said stiffly. 

Flitwick hummed.  “I would be remiss if I did not mention that Gilderoy had a bit of a problem with plagiarism when he was a student here.”

“What is a ‘bit of a problem with plagiarism’?” Pomfrey asked.

“He indulged too much in it, as in the one doing it and not a victim of it,” Flitwick clarified to a chorus of snorts and noises of disgust.

“He appears to be a model prospect,” Dumbledore said, “heavy emphasis with the word appears.  I personally would not wish him here, but the unfortunate phrase that beggars cannot be choosers applies here.”

“You said there was another?” Snape asked.

Dumbledore looked uncomfortable.  “Yes, and I need your word before I continue with asking.”

“Why Severus’?” Sprout asked.

Snape narrowed his eyes.  “Surely not.”

Dumbledore signed and stroked his beard.  “I would ask Remus to take the role.”

McGonagall’s eyes lit up and the others nodded with sudden understanding.  Snape’s narrowed eyes became a full-fledged scowl. 

Dumbledore coughed.  “He has the credentials to teach and has demonstrated knowledge in the subject matter.  I think it would benefit the students first and foremost, and him as well if I am being honest.”

“Do you think so little of me that I would let our past history interfere with my professionalism?” Snape asked coldly.

“Not at all.  That said, I would not wish to subject you to…sustained discomfort if I could spare it,” Dumbledore said firmly.  “I also wanted to ask you for another reason.  I would be asking you to brew the Wolfsbane potion for him.  You will be compensated for the materials of course and I would be happy to increase your pay for it as well.  I know it is a difficult and fiddly potion to brew.”

He leaned back in his chair.  “It is asking much of you: personally and professionally.  Therefore, it was only fair of me to ask you first.”

Snape took a deep breath before letting it out through his nose.  “As long as I am being compensated for brewing, then I will brew the potion.  As far as treating him like a colleague, I suppose I can do that.”

Dumbledore breathed a sigh of relief.  “Thank you, Severus.  I appreciate it and I know the students will too.”

“I also do not wish to be anywhere near Lockhart,” Snape said snidely.

“Yes, thank you for sparing us that,” McGonagall said.  She looked at the Headmaster.  “Now for the hard part, getting Remus to accept the post.”

“I think that will be the easier part actually.”  Dumbledore rose to his feet.  “Truthfully, I thought it would be harder to convince Severus.  I had a list of concessions that I would have made to secure the posting.”  He winked at a sour-faced Severus.  “You could have played it a bit harder, my friend.”

“I will remember that for the future,” Snape hissed while the others chortled and laughed.

-0-

“Ah Remus!  Good to see you!”

Remus Lupin smiled at Dumbledore.  Despite it having been many years since he left Hogwarts, he still felt like a child sometimes when he saw the venerable old man.  Seeing him for the first time, before Hogwarts even, when the man had come to his family’s home and assured them that he would be able to attend the school, had filled him with awe.  Nothing had quite gotten rid of that feeling.

“Good to see you too,” Remus said sincerely, sitting across from him.  A few days ago, having returned to England for the first time in a long time, he had received a letter asking to meet.  Intrigued, Remus had agreed, though he had a vague idea of why Dumbledore wanted his presence.  He looked around the small eatery with interest.  “A different place to meet than our usual.”

“I was a bit peckish and thought you might be as well.”  Dumbledore looked at the menu with interest.  “I find myself somewhat more interested in eating different things as of late.”

Remus looked surprised.  “A bit of variety is nice,” he said.  He gave the menu a look too. 

“Steak and chips please,” Dumbledore said.  “Rare.  Would you care for the same?” he asked Remus.

The surprise continued and after a moment’s hesitation, Remus nodded.  “Yes, please.”  When the waiter left his voice fell in volume.  “You don’t have to try and accommodate my…tastes.”

“I do not mind in the slightest,” Dumbledore said easily.  “I have been craving a steak anyways.  So, how was your latest trip?  The States, yes?”

“Yes, helping someone with a jackalope problem,” Remus said, sitting back.

“How were they being a problem?” Dumbledore asked, interested.

“Evidently, someone was experimenting on some and it turned into a problem,” Remus said wryly.  “They had a change in appetite.  They craved flesh and blood instead of plants as per the norm.”

“Now I can see what the problem was,” Dumbledore said, shivering slightly. 

The conversation meandered and they ate their steak and chips as they caught up.  When the meal was finished, Dumbledore paid while ignoring a protesting Remus, the point of the meeting came up.  “Have you any more pressing trips coming?” Dumbledore asked.

“No, I am in between jobs as it were,” Remus said quietly.

“Splendid.  Then you have little reason to refuse this offer.”  Dumbledore handed Remus a folded letter.

Remus took it and read it swiftly.  “Little reason save for the usual reason,” he said dryly. 

“Which is no reason at all honestly,” Dumbledore replied comfortably.

“It is a reason, a substantial one,” Remus countered.  “The same reason that makes gainful employment less than gainful and even less consistent.”

“Which is why you should take this one,” Dumbledore said.  “I hesitate to phrase it quite this way, but precautions have been taken and risks have been diminished.”

Remus smiled bitterly.  “Have they really?”

“Oh yes.  You will have ample Wolfsbane potion at your disposal, provided by and made by the school.  Pomfrey will take care of your physical health as she always has and will.  And I will be able to find substitutes for you during those moments when you are indisposed.”

Remus blinked slowly.  “I…well, that…that is rather generous.”

“And if you have concerns over Severus’ opinions on the matter, do not fret.  He said, and I quote, ‘I don’t care if he drinks the potion or not, I am being paid to brew it.  He can teach, he can’t be any worse than any of the others that have come and gone’.”

Remus snorted deeply.  “That does sound like Severus and I was a bit worried I must admit.”  He looked down into his cup.

“The rest of the staff were more encouraging in their words.  Minerva still has a soft spot for you as you know.  Pomona liked you during your time at school, as does Filius.  Poppy said she will have you assist her in cleaning the Infirmary for making her work more.”  They chuckled at that.  “And the rest of the staff either do not know you well or like you.”

Remus sipped his drink.  “That does sound nice…” he said wistfully.

“And just so you know, I am fully prepared to guilt you into taking the post with one more potentially manipulative bit of information,” Dumbledore said airily.

Remus smiled.  “This I have to hear.  Go on then.”

Dumbledore sobered and looked at Remus directly.  “Harry needs you.”

Remus’ smile disappeared.  “Harry,” he whispered.  “Already at Hogwarts?”

“Just finished his first year.”

“H-How is he?”

“In some ways, mature beyond his years.  He lacks the temper of his mother and the pride of his father.  He also lacks their self-confidence and their sense of self-worth.  He is incredibly kind, in ways similar to his parents but even more so in his own way.  He looks just like James but has Lily’s eyes.”  Dumbledore’s tone was soft and proud.  “He is intelligent and diligent in his studies and has made friends.”

“That’s wonderful,” Remus said wetly.  “But, if he is like that, he doesn’t need me-“

“He needs you,” Dumbledore repeated firmly.  “He knows too little of his parents and he could use someone that cares for him, someone that was close to his parents as well.”

“You could fill that role,” Remus said quietly.

“I can, and I try to, but it is still different.  Besides, can someone have too much support?” Dumbledore asked mildly.

Remus could say nothing to that.

“So, is it working?” Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling.

“Yes,” Remus conceded.  “Some.”

“I thought so,” Dumbledore said, looking a bit too smug for Remus’ liking.

“I have not seen him in so long,” Remus sighed.

“No time like the present then to make up for the past,” Dumbledore said kindly.

“Do you have some mental repository for profound sayings to whip out at a moment’s notice?” Remus asked, giving Dumbledore an irritated look.

“Certainly not,” Dumbledore sniffed.  He took out a book from an inner pocket.  “I have a book of them and I read the section that I think will most apply before I have a meeting.”

Remus laughed.  “Very well,” he said at last.  “I will take the post.”

“Splendid!”  Dumbledore waved the waiter back over.  “Something to toast with, if you please.”

“It is the middle of the day,” Remus snorted.

“We are not at the school nor are we working,” Dumbledore returned.  He waited for the waiter to bring a bottle of spirits and two small glasses.  After pouring a measure into each glass, he held one up.  “To new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings,” Remus said and tapped his glass against Dumbledore’s.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

16^th Course – Muddy Meddling

Harry did not know what hurt him more: the fall and the resulting developing bruise on his knee, or the cake that he had made strewn about the floor.  He had worked hard on the cake and to see it on the ground in pieces instead of sitting prettily on the serving tray on the counter hurt him a lot, almost as physical as the fall.

“Oh my goodness, are you okay?” Mrs. Mason asked.  The crash had brought the Masons and the Dursleys into the kitchen to see what had happened.

Harry sighed inwardly.  The Masons, the couple that Vernon was trying to impress to secure a deal for his drilling company, looked at him with mild concern whereas Vernon and Petunia looked at him with mounting displeasure and fury.  Dudley seemed like he was enjoying the sight of Harry on the ground with the destroyed dessert.

“I’m fine,” Harry said, a fake smile on his lips.  “Tripped and fell as you see.  Sorry about the cake.”

“Oh that’s not that important,” Mr. Mason said soothingly.

More than you think, Harry thought, seeing Vernon slowly turning purple.  “I can fix it.  I have some other things on hand that I can whip together.  If you don’t mind waiting a few more minutes, I can bring out a different dessert.”

“If you’re sure-“ Mrs. Mason began.

“He’s sure,” Vernon said, oily smile back on his face yet he continued to glare at Harry.  “It was his own fault it got ruined, so he has to fix it.  Come!  Let’s get back to eating and you were talking about your garden.”  He led them away and Harry was once again alone in the kitchen.

Or rather, he hoped he was alone.

The reason the cake was on the ground was due to a House Elf, one Harry had never met before.  This House Elf, calling himself Dobby, showed up unannounced and was telling Harry that he should not go back to Hogwarts. 

Harry, already slightly pressured by cooking and serving this very important dinner, was nonplussed.  He loved Hogwarts and while he had kept busy by balancing his homework and all the cooking and meal prepping the Dursleys had him do for all their dinners and parties, he missed it there.  He missed talking to his friends and exploring magic with Professor Flitwick and the other professors. 

Granted, the so-called danger Dobby said he would be in did give him pause, but he reasoned that the school would be fine and the teachers responsible.  The Headmaster and the professors had defended him against the trolls after all.  That was not enough for Dobby though, and after admitting to hiding some of Harry’s letters, he tried to get Harry into trouble by destroying the cake and disappearing.

Still, that was a later problem and fixing dessert was the current problem. 

Harry looked through the refrigerator and at the ingredients on the table and the pantry.  He had not bought anything extra, not having foreseen the cake catastrophe.  As he looked at the scraps of cake that he had cut from the original to make a nice shape, he got an idea.  He pulled out a package of ladyfinger biscuits and while there would not be enough to line the sides, there was more than enough to crush and make as layers and filling.

He hurriedly made a batch of instant custard, normally he would not but needs must.  Sticking it into the freezer to get as cold as possible, he made a batch of whipped cream, arm beating furiously with whisk to get the peaks he wanted.  He touched the pudding and while cool, it was not as chilled or cold as he wanted but again, needs must.

In a clear serving dish, he layered crushed biscuit, custard, strawberry jam, and whipped cream, repeating the layers until the trifle dish was filled to the top.  He artfully used the last of the whipped cream and made a peaked top and surrounded it with sliced strawberries, sliced thinly to add more of them.  Then he carefully carried it out to the dinner table.

“Oh my, that looks wonderful!” Mrs. Mason said.  “And you really just put that together?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Harry said.  “The custard won’t be as set as it should be, but it should still be nice and cool.”

“You must be very proud,” Mr. Mason said, looking at Vernon and Petunia.

“We are proud of the food, yes,” Petunia said pertly.  She made a dismissive hand gesture from behind, out of the Masons’ sight, and Harry took his cue to leave.  He went back to the kitchen and slowly started cleaning up the mess on the floor.  As he was finishing, he could hear the Masons leaving.  “Make sure you tell him that we enjoyed the meal immensely,” Mr. Mason said.

“I will,” Vernon gushed.  Yet after the Masons left and he was crowing about the successful meeting and the secured contract, no thanks came.  “I did it!” he exclaimed happily.  “That contract is going to launch us even higher!  We must go out and celebrate!”

“How was everything?” Harry asked, hating himself for asking it.  He knew what the answer and the response would be.

“It was edible,” Vernon said in a magnanimous tone.  “Good thing the school didn’t ruin the only thing you’re good for.”

“Once you finish cleaning your mess, go to your room,” Petunia sniffed.  A few moments later the house was silent, the Dursleys having left in good spirits. 

Harry slowly cleaned the kitchen and the dining room table, putting the dishes aside to dry.  He piled the leftovers on a plate as well as some of the salvaged cake, and made his way upstairs.  He finally smiled sincerely when he opened the door and he heard Hedwig hooting softly.  “Hi Hedwig,” he said, grateful to see her.  He sat at the table and put the plate between them.  “Hope you don’t mind some leftovers.  The cake fell, but I saved the parts that didn’t hit the ground.”

He smiled when she nuzzled him.  “Thank you.  Oh, is that a letter for me?”  He saw that she was sitting on an envelope.  “What is it?”  He took it from her and his eyes widened when he saw that it was from the Ministry of Magic.  He tore it open and read it swiftly, face falling as he did.

“That’s not my fault!” he said indignantly with Hedwig hooting in agreement.  “I didn’t cast the magic!”  The letter had come a Mafalda Hopkirk, warning him that magic was detected at Number 4 Privet Drive.  He was then reminded that he was not allowed to cast magic outside of school and that repeated offenses would warrant punishment.

Harry glared at the letter.  “Wait, it said exactly when the spell was cast.  When did the letter arrive?  Did you deliver it?” he asked Hedwig.

She shook her head.

“How did you get it?” he asked, anger being replaced with curiosity. 

Hedwig pointed out the window with her wing.  She flapped her wings and made grasping motions with her talons and showed him a long brown feather.

“You took it from another owl and waited for me here with it?” Harry asked and smiled when Hedwig bobbed her head.  “You’re such a good owl,” he praised, as he rubbed her belly.  She fluffed her feathers and cheeped happily.  “Well let’s eat dinner together.”  He put the best bits of the leftovers in her food dish and watched happily as she gobbled it up eagerly.

He chewed on a bit of steak.  “I wonder who that House Elf was.  I really don’t know much of them at all, despite being friends with Inky and the others at Hogwarts.  I wish Inky was here-“

“Hi Mister Harry!”  Inky appeared with a pop, startling Harry.  Hedwig continued to eat, utterly unbothered by the elf’s sudden appearance.

“Inky!  What are you doing here?!” Harry gasped, massaging his chest.

“Mister Harry called for me,” Inky said as if it was obvious.  She looked around the small bedroom, her eyes narrowing.

“You come when a student calls you?” Harry asked.

“No, Inky came when Mister Harry called,” she said, again in the tone of voice that she thought was obvious.  “This is Mister Harry’s home?” she asked, eyes still narrowed.  She looked at the small and shabby bed and at all the things that were Dudley’s. 

“Uhm, yeah, this is my room,” Harry said awkwardly.  “I’m happy to see you.”

“Inky is happy too!”  Her countenance brightened as she looked back at him.  “Inky misses you and your food.”

Harry grinned.  “You can have some of this if you like.  It’s some leftovers but still good.”

“Thank you!”  Inky took some roast veg and wrapped it in a piece of bread and munched happily.  “How can Inky help?”

“Oh right!  Pardon me if I ask anything stupid-“

“Inky is used to it,” she interrupted cheekily with a mouth full of food.

Harry smiled and Hedwig snorted through a full beak.  “Right, fair enough.  I doubt you know who this is, but have you heard of a House Elf named Dobby?”

Inky thought for a moment.  “No, Inky has not.”

“A Dobby appeared tonight and tried to convince me to not go back to Hogwarts,” Harry explained.  His eyes widened at the look of fury on Inky’s face.  “He apparently intercepted some of my post and when I refused, he dropped the cake that I had made to get me into trouble.”

“He what?!” Inky shrieked.  “No!  This will not do!  Bad Dobby!  That is a bad elf!”

Harry blinked at the level of righteous indignation that Inky was exuding.  It was slightly embarrassing, to have her be so upset for him, yet he liked how it made him feel.  “Do House Elves do that normally?”

“They should not.  Ones owned by powerful families must listen to the family but there is leeway.  Clever House Elves can do that.”  She furrowed her brow.  “He did not say where he came from?”

“No, but he did mention he was here without his owner’s knowing,” Harry said.

“Hmmm.  House Elves can do that, but they have to expect punishment,” Inky murmured.  “Inky does not like this.”

“I don’t either,” Harry said and Hedwig barked angrily too.  “Can you help me?  Please?”

Inky blinked at him.  “Of course Inky will help,” she said soothingly.  “Inky will tell the Headmaster.  May Inky take the letter?  Headmaster is important at Ministry, he can put things right.”

“Thank you so much,” Harry sighed, much relieved. 

“Inky will also help try to keep an eye out for this bad Dobby,” she continued, taking the letter.  “If you need to make sure a letter gets to the Headmaster, call for Inky.”

“I will.  Thank you again.  I can’t wait to cook with you again,” Harry said.

“Inky can’t wait too!  Be good Mister Harry and Miss Hedwig!”  Inky disappeared with a crack.

Harry sat back, feeling much better. 

-0-

“Thank you Inky,” Dumbledore said.  “I will handle this directly.”  He looked at the letter in his hands.  “And yes, you can continue to keep an eye out for Harry if you like.”

“Inky likes and wants,” Inky said.  She curtsied and disappeared.

“A rogue House Elf trying to prevent Mister Potter from returning, and then sabotaging him at his home?”  McGonagall looked disturbed.  “I do not like the idea of that at all.”

“Neither do I,” Dumbledore said pensively.  “I do not recall ever meeting a Dobby and with how many House Elves in Britain, finding him will be no easy feat.  It might be better to ensure Harry’s safety and catch this Dobby in the act if possible.”

McGonagall nodded.  “I cannot help but notice that you call him Harry now,” she said with a small smile.

Dumbledore shared the smile.  “I have grown very fond of Harry and fondness brings familiarity.  Perhaps you can find the time to interact with him outside of class as well.”

She sighed softly.  “I have been meaning to, especially what you said about sharing stories with him of his parents.  I want to, but the pain of those times prevents me.”  She shook her head.  “Which is not fair either.”

“Go about it at your pace,” Dumbledore said.  “It should not be seen as an obligation.”

“No, but I do want to.  Perhaps it will be beneficial for me as well.”  She adjusted her glasses.  “With Remus here as well, that might make things easier.”  She frowned slightly.  “I have never heard of a House Elf doing such a thing before, and of his own volition if that can be believed.”

“Some House Elves are quite clever and can find ways around orders easily,” Dumbledore said.  “I never thought I had the complete and utter servitude of any of the House Elves that serve Hogwarts.  That said, the House Elves’ loyalty is to Hogwarts herself first and foremost.”  He sighed.  “At least we are aware of the possibility of problems now and we have more secure means of communication.”

“And what about the letter?” McGonagall asked.

“I will go in the morning.  House Elf magic is distinctly different from ours so it should be easy to prove it and exonerate Harry.”  He shook his head.  “Hopefully we can get to the bottom of this soon.”

-0-

The deal with the Masons had been so large and fruitful, Vernon was in an incredibly good mood for many days.  He did not share it with Harry, naturally, but he was less unkind.  He even took Harry to London without complaint.  He wanted to take Petunia shopping and Harry could spend the time getting his school supplies.

Harry took his time, getting everything he needed for his second year at Hogwarts.  He still searched in vain for a cooking supply store, resigned to the fact that it did not seem to exist on Diagon Alley at all.  He looked through the cooking related books at Flourish and Blotts and once again, there was little to be found.  However, he was able to find some international magazines being sold at a newsstand and he bought all the ones that seemed related to food and cooking.  He could not read most of them but he made a note to ask Flitwick if there was a translating charm or something to that effect.

He bought some small boxes that were good for owls to deliver things in.  They were more durable and were made lighter for the owl to carry them, even shrinking slightly for easier transport.  After Inky had left, Harry was able to receive the post once more.  In fact, once Hedwig learned of what Dobby said, from Harry telling her, she was more vigilant about letters and things.  One day she had returned bearing several envelopes.

Harry had been overjoyed.  He had been worried when he did not receive any letters from his friends in the beginning of the summer, having been a little shy about sending any out.  Seeing ones from Lavender, the Patils, and Pansy made him really happy.  He had explained that there was something wrong with the post before without going into detail, but promised he would explain when he saw them next.  The boxes he bought today would hold baked goods and things he planned on sending to them.

He had stopped at Eeylops to get some owl treats for Hedwig, something he learned that some owls liked during the last school year.  When the clerk poured some in a bag, Harry looked at one with suspicion.  “What…are owl treats by the way?”

“They’re treats for the owls,” the clerk said in a bemused way.

Harry smiled.  “No I mean, what are they made of?”

“Oh!  Not sure.  The company keeps it under wraps but they say they’re safe for consumption and have things every owl needs.”

“Can people eat them?”

“Sure, I munch on one here and there.”  The clerk popped one into his mouth.  “They’re not bad.”

Later Harry took a bite and resisted the urge to spit it out.  He swore he would make proper owl treats for Hedwig instead of making her eat these unknown things.

-0-

The rest of the summer passed swiftly.

Vernon’s good mood had persisted, surprisingly, and he had almost complimented Harry for his cooking at the end of the summer party the Dursleys threw.  When Harry asked about the winter holiday however, they had told him that they, meaning the Dursleys only, were invited to the Masons.  He had told the Masons that Harry would be away at school and would be unable to attend.  Therefore, Harry had no need to come back again.

Deep down, Harry thought he should have expected that to be the case.  It did not hurt him any less, however.

Now it was right before the start of the new term and Harry was at King’s Cross Station.  He pushed his cart down the way, his things arranged neatly on the luggage trolley, and Hedwig sitting in her cage on top.  He walked without conscious thought, ruminating over this and that, and when he arrived at Platform 9 and ¾s, he tried to push through the barrier.

He frowned, shaken from his thoughts when the trolley met unyielding stone.  He pushed again and the trolley jolted, shaking the cage and making Hedwig cheep with irritation.  Harry reached out to touch the stones and they refused to allow him through.  Seeing people starting to stare, he moved to the side, starting to panic slightly.  He did not recognize anyone around and he had no idea what to do.

Hedwig hooted softly, looking at him directly.

“Not now, Hedwig,” Harry said, continuing to panic.

Hedwig sighed and nipped him gently on the hand, getting his attention.  She then looked off to one side.

Harry looked at her, uncomprehending.

She sighed again and rolled her eyes at him before very obviously nodding her head in that direction.  When Harry looked, he saw a tiny hand waving out of an alcove, and someone peeking out with large ears and eyes.

Harry pushed the trolley over and breathed a sigh of relief when he slipped into the alcove and noticed the other one within.  “Inky!”

“Hi Mister Harry!  Hi Miss Hedwig!” Inky chirped brightly. 

“I need your help,” Harry said.  “The barrier won’t let me through to the platform!”

“Inky knows,” Inky said, frowning.  “Inky can’t flip the magic but Inky will take you to the train right now.”

“Thank you,” Harry said happily.  He stumbled when Inky touched his pants leg and took him and Hedwig and his belongings to the other side of the barrier and to the Hogwarts Express.  He felt like he had just been pulled through a very small tube and shot out the other end.  His head spun and he felt incredibly dizzy. 

“Oh, sorry!” Inky squeaked.  “Elf Apparition is very startling!  Is Mister Harry okay?”

“I think so?”  Harry felt queasy and held onto the trolley for balance.  “Does it always feel like that?”

“One gets used to it,” Inky shrugged.

Hedwig looked rattled as well, shaking her head and swaying on her perch, hooting in a disgruntled tone.

“I really appreciate you looking out for me,” Harry said, once he got his bearings back.

“Of course!  Inky will tell conductor and platform manager before going back to Hogwarts and telling Headmaster.”  She looked determined.  “Mister Harry no worry.  This bad Elf will be caught!”  With a cheery wave, she disappeared.

Harry carried his things into the train and found an empty compartment.  He sat down with relief, opening Hedwig’s cage.  The snowy owl flew out and spent a few moments flying about the compartment before settling down on his lap, pecking him to pet her.

Time passed pleasantly as he petted her, mind wandering.  He had arrived early to the platform by design, not wanting to rush.  He saw activity increase on the platform as students came with their families and the doors of the train opened and closed constantly as people boarded and found places to sit.

The door to the compartment opened.  “Harry!” Lavender nearly shouted.

“Lavender!”  Harry gently set Hedwig on the chair beside him and rose to his feet, nearly knocked over by Lavender’s enthusiastic hug.  “It’s good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you!” Lavender said, squeezing him tightly.  She was overjoyed to feel him hug her back just as fondly and warmly, without reservation.  She smiled when Hedwig cheeped indignantly.  “And it’s good to see you too Hedwig!  I’ll hug you next.”

“Hey!  You hug Lavender now?”  Parvati appeared at the door and pouted.  “Since when?”

“Since the end of last term and that just proves how good friends we are,” Lavender said smugly.

“Boo!  Come on, give me a hug too, Harry!”

Harry smiled and flushed a little when he let go of Lavender.  “It’s really good to see you too, Parvati,” he said warmly and hugged her.

“Same!”  She broke the embrace and moved to hug Lavender but had to wait since Lavender was holding Hedwig who looked quite smug.

“You don’t have to hug me if you don’t want to,” Padma smiled as she walked in after Parvati.

Harry smiled back.  “I wouldn’t want to play favorites.”

“Fair enough,” Padma laughed and hugged him.  He helped them put their trunks up onto the racks and as they got settled, the door opened once more. 

“May we join you?” Pansy asked.  She looked calm but her eyes warmed slightly, growing warmer when she saw Harry.  Millicent waved from behind her, smiling easily.

“Come on in,” Lavender said brightly.  After settling their things on the racks, she exclaimed at the basket that Millicent carried.  “You got a kitty?!”

“I did!  My parents gave her to me when I got back, for my really good marks.  Which is partially thanks to you guys.  Those group study sessions we did at the end helped so much.  I hope we can keep doing that.”

“Oh definitely,” Parvati said.  “My marks were better because of them too.”

Millicent opened the basket and a small grey cat jumped out.  “Everyone, meet Sunny!”

“Oh that’s an adorable name,” Parvati gushed.  “Is she friendly?”

“Too friendly,” Pansy said dryly.  “She will shed all over you and claw up any of your belongings.”

“Only you could be grumpy to a kitten,” Millicent sighed.

“She destroyed my shawl!”

“She was sleeping in it!”

Pansy stuck her tongue out at Millicent.  “She’s a menace.”

“So are you and we’re still friends,” Millicent retorted.

Pansy made a rude hand gesture while the others laughed.  “I still like her despite her being a destroying menace.”   

“Good because I would totally kick you out of our dorm room first,” Millicent said with a sharp smile.

“I am well aware,” Pansy said, shaking her head and smiling herself.

The train left the station and they all got caught up with each other over their summers.  The Patils had gone back to India to visit family and they talked about that while Millicent had gone with her family to France for a work trip with Pansy’s.  Lavender talked about visiting her family in Britain and then it came to Harry’s turn.

“Now, what’s this about your post being intercepted?” Pansy asked seriously.  “Did you ever find out who did it?”

“Yeah and it’s really weird,” Harry said.  “A House Elf was doing it.”

“A House Elf?  Really?” Parvati asked.  “That’s weird.  Why?”

“He said it wasn’t safe for me to go back to Hogwarts this year,” Harry said. 

“What does that mean?” Padma asked.

“I’ve no idea,” Harry shrugged.  “I didn’t take him seriously but he even tried to get me in trouble.  Destroyed a cake I made for a dinner party.”

“What a waste!” Millicent exclaimed and everyone echoed her dismay and anger.

“I even got a letter from the Ministry about it,” Harry grumbled, still upset over the incident.  Dumbledore had sent him a letter the next day saying that the situation was handled and that he had no reason to worry which made him feel better.  “About underaged magic.”

“Oh weird, we’ve done that and we’ve never gotten a letter,” Parvati said before Padma kicked her.

“Probably because we all have magic members in the family,” Pansy said.  “It is somewhat of an unwritten rule that older magicals should be observing their younger members.”

“You’re not in trouble, are you?” Lavender asked, concerned.

“Thankfully no.  The Headmaster said he took care of it.  Apparently House Elf magic is different and it’s not too hard to prove.”

“That’s a relief,” Lavender sighed.  “That’s so weird though.  Is someone playing a trick on you?”

“Has to be someone with a House Elf in the family and not many have House Elves,” Millicent said.  “Usually really big families and old ones, and rich ones.  Even then, most House Elves could just ignore an order of that kind.  Pranks or stuff like that are beneath them or they don’t have to listen to the younger members of the family.”

“Did he give you a name, this House Elf?” Pansy asked.

“His name was Dobby,” Harry said.  He missed the look that flashed over Pansy’s face and that she and Millicent shot each other a quick look.

“Well, hopefully the Headmaster will handle this too,” Lavender said. 

“Yeah, hopefully,” Harry said.

Later, when Pansy and Millicent left the compartment to use the restroom, they saw Draco sitting in a compartment with his other friends.  Draco studiously ignored them and went back to boasting to the others in his compartment.

“Wasn’t the Malfoy elf named Dobby?” Pansy whispered to Millicent after they passed the compartment.

“I wasn’t there as much as you were, but that does sound familiar,” Millicent whispered back.  “Do you think Draco would play a joke like that?”

“If he could get away with it, he would.  But from what I remembered, Dobby didn’t listen to Draco all the time for petty things like that,” Pansy murmured. 

“And, well, if things were dangerous for Potter, would Draco want to warn him?” Millicent asked softly, looking a little disquieted.

“I…I don’t know,” Pansy admitted.  “Before, I would say he would.  Before school I mean.  After starting?  I don’t know.  Should I mention something?”

Millicent hesitated.  “Not yet.  It might cause more harm than good and it might look like us saying something to get back at him.”

Pansy sighed.  “I agree.  At least until we have more proof.”  They reentered their compartment and sat once more.

“Where’s Sunny?” Millicent asked, looking around.

“She climbed up there,” Parvati said, pointing at the luggage racks above them.

“My bag!”  Pansy jumped up and brought it down.  Sunny had clawed it open and was nestled comfortably inside.  “Millie!”

“Awww, Sunny loves you,” Millicent smiled.

“Maybe Professor Flitwick will know some claw-proof charms or something to teach us in club,” Harry suggested while the other girls laughed.

“One can only hope,” Pansy sighed.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

17^th Course – Coming Back

“I’ve missed going to breakfast and doing things with you two,” Lavender said happily, threading her arms into Harry’s and Parvati’s.  “I kept expecting to wake up Pav and see Harry waiting for us the first week of summer.”  The trio were headed to breakfast together, something Harry and evidently the other two, had missed.

“Same, it didn’t feel right,” Parvati said.  “First morning I woke up and saw Padma in my room and I was so disappointed, even more so than usual.”  She joined their laughter.  “Don’t feel bad for her, the feeling was mutual.”

“Sleeping in was nice though,” Lavender said.  “Though I couldn’t do that too much.  My little sisters made it their goal to wake me up early every day if they could.”

“My Mum let me for the first few days but put a stop to that,” Parvati sighed.  “What about you, Harry?”

“I woke up earlier than when I’m here,” Harry said nonchalantly.  “I always have at the Dursleys.  I cook all the meals so I have to get up early to make breakfast before Uncle Vernon leaves for work.”

“You cook all of them?” Lavender asked, frowning.  “They don’t help or take turns?”

“Not really, never have.  Uncle Vernon pretends to fish or hunt and tells others he brings me what he and Dudley catch but they always get it from a specialty butcher.”  Harry snorted.  “The only thing Dudley can catch is food falling into his mouth really.” 

Their frowns abated a little, giggling at Harry’s comment.  “Must be nice that you can sleep in a little while here at school then,” Parvati teased.

“Only a little.  Ron and Seamus snore,” Harry said with a small smile.

“So does Lav,” Parvati smiled and squealed when Lavender pinched her.

They reached the Great Hall and sat at the Gryffindor table, chatting easily.  It was like right before they left for the summer break and Harry was grateful for it.  It was nice to eat with people again, to see smiling faces and be a part of the table, instead of watching others smile while they ate.  He had noticed during the beginning of the summer how accustomed he got to having that during school. 

All summer he ate in his room or while he was cooking.  He was happy to eat with Hedwig in his room, her happy expression and the noises she made were good company, far better than the years he had before he had Hedwig in his life.  He had not realized just how much he got used to eating with Lavender and Parvati during school and for the first few meals of summer, their absence made it very hard to swallow.

“What’s that look for?” Lavender asked gently.

He shook his head, trying to allay her concern.  “Nothing, just happy to be eating with you two again.”  He tried to smile, to put her at ease.  “Food tastes better, you know?”

She smiled back but there was still a hint of worry in her eyes.  “I do,” she said instead.

“Oh!  I meant to tell you this earlier,” Parvati said eagerly.  “Grandmum let me and Padma write out some more recipes for you to make!”

“Brilliant!” Harry exclaimed, excitement driving away the doldrums. 

“Yeah when we described how you made it those times she approved.  Said it was okay to share it with the angrej ladaka.”  Parvati blushed.  “Forget I said the last part.”

“If you tell me what it means,” Harry grinned.

“English boy,” Parvati mumbled and Harry snorted and laughed and Lavender giggled.

“Well she’s not wrong,” Harry said, unbothered.

Parvati smiled with relief.  “Don’t hold it against her.  She just thinks only Indian people can make Indian food properly but she’s willing to bend so that me and Padma can have proper food during the term.”

“That’s kinda nice of her,” Harry said, making the girls laugh.  “And as long as she doesn’t Curse me, then all the better.”

Parvati smiled when Hedwig fluttered down to join them at breakfast.  “She liked Hedwig.  She thinks Hedwig is beautiful.”

“So does Hedwig,” Harry grinned.  He rubbed her head while the owl cheeped with a regal mien. 

“Hello everyone,” Hermione said as she sat down to join them.  “Oh Harry, I wanted to mention that I really do think that tasting magic theory carries weight.  I paid attention to food over the break and there really was a different taste to things.”

“Oh yeah, so did we,” Parvati said.  “I think Padma and I could get to a point where we recognized who cooked with magic and who didn’t, kinda like with you.”

Hermione nodded.  “I couldn’t cook with magic obviously,” she looked sheepish, “I can’t cook at all really to be honest, but I still had some magical candy and when I tried them side by side, there was a clear difference.  I even convinced my parents to try them and they said that there was a difference too.  It wasn’t as easy for them to tell but they could.”

“That’s so interesting,” Lavender said.  “That’s kinda like with my Dad.  My Mum cooks with magic sometimes but not always and when I told her about it, we tested it too.  Dad liked it all but we started telling the difference too.”

“That’s so cool,” Harry mused.  “I’m definitely going to talk to Professor Flitwick more about it.  I think he wants to test it more too.  I obviously didn’t use magic this summer,” he growled slightly, still nettled by the letter, “but I remember towards the end of last term, I was able to do some spell stuff and it didn’t change the taste all that much.”

“I can’t wait for club,” Lavender said excitedly.  “I practiced a lot over summer with sewing and I can make new stuff now!”

“Oh I was about to ask when we will be starting up again.”  Padma had approached with Sue beside her.  “I don’t want to miss it at all and it’s a lot of fun.”

“I’ll ask Professor Flitwick after class,” Harry said.  “He might start letting us use the room outside of club times too.”

“You’re taking new members, right?” Sue asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Harry said.  “It was tiny before and I bet Professor Flitwick would be happy.  He’s your Head of House after all.”

“I always thought he was a bit strange to be our Head,” Sue said.  She smiled weakly when everyone looked at her.  “He’s so cheery and enthusiastic and Ravenclaws on the whole aren’t.”

“Is it really like that?” Hermione asked while they chuckled.

“A little,” Padma said.  “Lots of debating and arguing and talking about theory and things but it’s not terribly warm or close.  People will help each other but the helper is usually a little snooty about it.”

“What’s it like in Gryffindor?” Sue asked.

“People are nice enough but sorta cliquish,” Lavender said.  “Like stay apart in small groups and there’s some rude people in it.  Lot of the upper years don’t seem to bother.”

“I guess that’s why I like the clubs so much,” Parvati said.  “Gives us a chance to interact with people from other Houses.”  She noticed two people walking in.  “Even people I’d never think to talk to ever.”  She waved a hand. 

Millicent and Pansy noticed her waving and after a moment’s hesitation and a shared look, they came walking over.  “Morning,” Millicent said pleasantly and Pansy nodded at them, stifling a yawn.  “Impromptu club meeting?”

“Something like that,” Parvati smiled.  “You joining too?”

“Sure,” Millicent said brightly.  “I liked talking about fabric stuff with you two and I want to eat more of Potter’s cooking.”

“Call me Harry,” Harry smiled.  “There’s enough people to call me Potter like that.”

“Alright Harry,” Millicent said, looking pleased.

“How’s Sunny?” Lavender asked.

“She’s doing great!  Likes her room.  Likes sleeping with Pansy,” Millicent giggled.

Pansy removed several grey hairs from her black robes.  “Likes exploring my dresser as you see,” she said sourly.  She flicked her fingers at Millicent, flinging the hairs onto her.

“Aww, but she’s so adorable.  How can you get mad at her?” Lavender giggled.

“Easily,” Pansy said dryly, but with a small smile to lessen the sting.

“Maybe she can be the club mascot,” Parvati said.  “Ow!  Wait, I didn’t mean it Hedwig!”  Parvati tried to fend off Hedwig’s irritable pecking.  “I’m sorry!  Harry!  Help!”

“I’m not getting in between you two, sorry,” Harry laughed, holding his hands up. 

“Aww, don’t be like that,” Parvati said when Hedwig turned her back to the girl, mooning her and flicking her tail feathers at her.  “You’re my favorite owl!”

“Poor girl,” Lavender cooed and took Hedwig in her arms.  “Pav is so mean, isn’t she?”

“You all have no idea,” Padma said and they howled with laughter while Parvati looked at them all with a deeply wounded expression.

-0-

“Term has barely started and you’re already letting the House down,” Draco said snidely when Millicent and Pansy sat down at the Slytherin table. 

Millicent grunted in reply.

“Did you have a nice summer, Draco?” Pansy asked blandly, fighting the squirming in her stomach.

“As if you care,” he sniffed.

“I did just ask you,” she said quietly.

“You didn’t even visit once.”

“You never asked me to,” she replied coolly.

He looked uncomfortable at that.  “You never needed to be formally invited before,” he said, trying to sound aloof and collected and failing at it.

His tone made her eye twitch.  “I never felt unwelcome before,” she said back.  She sighed when he flinched.  “I did write to you and you either did not reply at all or very shortly.”

“I was busy.”  He puffed his chest out and looked inordinately proud.  “My father has started a new project and I am a vital component within it.”

“Good for you,” Pansy said, able to keep the condescension out of her voice.  She knew how much he idolized his father and while she had very complicated feelings regarding him now, she did not want to cause unnecessary strife.  At least, not at that moment.

“I just might share what the plans are with you,” he said smugly.  “If you deserve it.”  He got up from the table and left, nose in the air.

“A Knut says he’s just saying things to sound important,” Millicent said softly, rolling her eyes.  “Or it’s a ploy to get back onto your good side.  Or both.”

“I suppose,” Pansy muttered back. 

“Proud of you for not falling for it immediately,” Millicent said gently.

“Thanks Millie,” Pansy smiled.  “It’s just, I did try, over the summer.  I sent messages.  I gave him a chance.”  She turned wistful.  “I don’t know what I was expecting.  Or hoping if I’m being honest.”

“Well, if you still want to give him one, make it on your terms,” Millicent said.  She started to snicker.

“What’s so funny?” Pansy asked.

“That bit where he puffed his chest out and tried to look all superior?” Millicent said in between her giggles.  “I was just thinking that Hedwig does it better and she’s much cuter.”

Pansy clapped a hand to her mouth but was unable to stop herself from laughing.  Her laughter pushed Millicent over the edge and the two laughed loudly and broadly to the bemusement of their fellow Slytherins.

-0-

“Look at all the people!”  Flitwick clapped his hands happily.  “I cannot remember the last time we had so many people in Household Charms!  When I saw the sign-up sheet this year I practically danced.”  He winked at Harry.  “And the Headmaster has increased our club budget for this year to reflect it.  Welcome!  Good to see you Miss Li, Miss Bulstrode, Miss Granger, and Mister Longbottom.”

“Is it okay if I don’t learn all the spells and things?” Neville asked shyly.  “I asked my Grandmother over the summer and she got a bit upset at me, asking why I would ever need to do any kind of that spellwork.”

“Ah yes, Madam Longbottom has some feelings about propriety if I recall,” Flitwick smiled easily.  “Be at ease Mister Longbottom, if you simply wish to be here and spend the time, then that is perfectly okay as well.  As long as you do not disrupt things.”

His smile grew.  “I have been looking forward to club again and I have built up a better library of things in anticipation.  Now!  What are we interested in to start?”

“I wanted to ask if there is a kind of translating charm,” Harry said.  “I found more of those foreign magazines about cooking but a lot of them aren’t translated into English.”

“I am ahead of you there!  My own curiosity in food has increased due to your influence and I have found a few that works well.  Some nuance is lost however in translation, literal versus colloquial translations you know, but I am continuing to work on that.  It’s a fairly simple charm though!  In the current stage that is.” 

He took one of Harry’s magazines and drew a stylized letter A with the wand tip.  “Transferedum in anglicus,” he incanted and tapped the magazine.  The letters shimmered and they exclaimed with delight when the French became English.  “As you see, it does some funny things to moving pictures so it is not perfect, but it will suffice.”

“Thanks, Professor!” Harry said happily.

“Of course!  I have used it on charms texts from other countries and it is quite delightful and terribly useful.”  He demonstrated the charm again and helped the others attempt to cast it.  “There we are and as always, practice makes perfect.  What’s next?”

“Are there charms to prevent damage caused by pets?” Harry asked and Pansy smirked while Millicent groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Plenty,” Flitwick chuckled.  “Damage to fabric and clothes I imagine?  And what kind of pet?”

“Yes and a cat,” Pansy said.

“Cat or kneazle?” Flitwick asked.

“She’s mostly kneazle I think,” Millicent said.  “Not sure if she’s completely kneazle.”

“Oh the amount does not matter.  But the fact that she is important since regular charms that protect against cats will not suffice towards a kneazle.”  He summoned a book from a stack of them and started to page through it, looking for the charms that he wanted.

Harry, having gotten to the point where he could comfortably cast the Translation to English Charm, moved over to the stove and the part of the clubroom they called the kitchen.  Inky was waiting eagerly and she and Harry poured over a recipe together and once Padma walked over, they got started.

“What’s on the menu tonight?” Sue asked.

“Chicken tikka masala,” Harry said as he carefully measured out the spices.  “And rice.”

“Ooh, that sounds great,” Sue said.

“I’m sure it will be, the butter chicken we made before is so good so the recipes have to be,” Harry said and Padma and Parvati beamed.

“What’s the difference between butter chicken and tikka masala?” Flitwick asked, saying the words carefully.

“Butter chicken is creamier and sweeter,” Padma said.  “Tikka is more spiced and the tomato sauce is more tangy and tomato-y if that makes sense.”

“You also grill the chicken on skewers for a bit so they get a charred flavor before you add them to the sauce,” Parvati said.  “Not everyone does that but we do and I think it makes a difference.”

“Mmm, can’t wait,” Lavender smiled.

“The ratio of spices is different too,” Harry said as he made sure he got the measurements right.  “There’s more in the tikka.”

Sue’s eyes widened when they prepared the rice after they got the tomato sauce simmering.  “Whoa, you put stuff to cook in the rice too?”

Padma nodded.  “Just a few spices.”

“That’s interesting!  When we cook rice, unless it’s a specific dish, the rice is just cooked in water.  It’s not flavored at all,” Sue said.  “We as in my family and stuff.”

“We sometimes do that but there’s usually some seasonings in it,” Parvati said.

Sue ran her fingers through the grains of basmati rice.  “Ours is usually short grain too, or shy of medium.  These are long grain.”

“Grains can be short or long?” Pansy asked.

“Mmmhmm.  If it’s shorter, it’s usually stickier,” Sue said and Padma and Parvati nodded with her.  “Chinese food usually uses the shorter ones.”

Pansy blinked.  “I didn’t know that there’s so much nuance to grains of rice of all things.”

“That’s why I love food,” Harry said softly.  “So many different people eat things that are similar and different at the same time.  It’s so interesting to learn and try it all.”

While the tomato sauce continued to bubble and simmer and the rice steamed, Harry skewered the marinated chicken pieces onto wooden skewers and put them in the oven.  It took a moment for him and Inky to make it broil rather than bake but once they did, the room filled with the smell of browning chicken and spices. 

He flipped them and let them cook on the other side before removing them from the oven and the skewers, submerging the pieces into the sauce to finish cooking and letting the flavors meld.  After some gentle stirring, the rice was fluffed and ready.  Plates of the chicken tikka masala poured over rice were made and they all sat together to eat.

“This is incredible,” Millicent said in awe, staring at the dish.  “It’s so spicy and tasty!”

“Oh make sure you eat more rice to sop up the curry or you’ll have an upset stomach,” Harry said.  “I learned that the first time I had curry.”

“It’s almost too spicy,” Pansy said, fanning her mouth.  “But I don’t want to stop eating it either.”

Sue smiled.  “Oh boy, if you think this is spicy, I know some dishes that will really melt your tongue.  This is really good!”

“Even spicier?” Neville asked, eyes round.

“Much spicier,” Sue nodded.

“Yup, we can keep telling Grandmum that you shouldn’t be Cursed,” Parvati said as she gobbled her food.  “Tastes like home to me!”

“Really?” Harry asked, smiling proudly.

“Better than any take-away I’ve ever had,” Lavender said fervently and Hermione agreed.

“Wow, Professor,” Parvati said, “have you had a lot of Indian food before?”

Flitwick wiped his mouth with his napkin with gusto.  “Not at all actually!  But the taste and lots of spices is something familiar to me and it tastes wonderful.  One of these days, I just might share some of my own heritage with you.  I really do appreciate the opportunity to try these new things and learn more about each other.”

“Is there like a list or something of cooking suggestions?” Sue asked.  “I don’t want to be presumptuous or anything.”

“Not really.  Most times it’s what I feel like making but Parvati asked me to make Indian food our first term because she missed home,” Harry said.  “I’d be fine with us having a list of things we want to try.  If its something that needs specialty ingredients, then we’ll need to plan for it.  As in find someone that sells it so Hedwig can get it for us or if you can ask for it sent to you if you know what you want specifically.”

“That’s more than fair and I’ll definitely help pay for it if I can’t get it for us,” she said eagerly.  “I’d love to have home cooking here too.  I really missed it last year.”

“Chinese food?” Harry asked.  He smiled broadly when she nodded.  “I really want to learn that too.  It always looks nice.  Never had it before myself.”

“Really?  With all the options for take-away?” she asked with surprise.

“My relatives never cared for it really,” he said lightly.

“Well that’s a shame,” Sue said.  “I’ll be happy to share and see what we can do here.”

After they finished eating, they helped clean things and put them away with Harry happy to be able to use the Scouring Charm again to clean up afterwards.  Bidding the ones in the other Houses farewell, and the Professor and Inky, they made their way back to their respective common rooms.

“I’m going to need more water,” Neville said with a little laugh.  “My mouth is still burning.”

“So worth it though,” Lavender said and Neville nodded in agreement. 

“You know, I think you might’ve made it a little better than some in my family,” Parvati said thoughtfully.  “Some of them don’t cook well at all and yours was pretty darn close to Auntie Anvi’s.”

“She’s your aunt that owns a restaurant?”  Harry blushed with pleasure.  “You’re having me on.”

“I’m not!  It was really really close.”  She looked about a little.  “I don’t dare compare you to Grandmum though.  She’ll Curse me.”

“You say that a lot,” Hermione observed.  “Does she really Curse people as much as you say?”

“Oh yeah, that’s why I say it.”

“Cursing or swearing?” Neville asked.  

“Both!  I learned my first swear words from her.  She won’t teach me any Curses until I’m older though.”

“She sounds great,” Lavender laughed.

“She’s the best,” Parvati sighed happily.

-0-

“Ha!  I told you!” Pansy said triumphantly.  She smiled at the crestfallen look on Sunny’s face.  “I knew she was deliberately clawing my things!”  The girl had wasted no time in casting the anti-kneazle claw charm on her clothes and things when they returned and Sunny had tried her best to scratch them and had failed.

Millicent scooped up the sulking pet.  “Poor baby,” she crooned.  “Did Auntie Pans take away your fun?  She’s so mean to such a cute kitty.”

“Stop making me feel bad about wanting to keep my things unclawed,” Pansy said, scowling at her friend.

“I will forgive you if you kiss and make up with Sunny.”

“Fine, I will.”

Millicent smiled.  “Go get her Sunny!”  She opened her arms and Sunny launched herself out of them, flying right into Pansy’s face.  Millicent laughed heartily when Pansy fell back onto her bed, swearing and coughing with Sunny wrapped firmly around her face.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

18^th Course – Nurturing Growth

Lavender chewed quizzically, looking at the biscuit in her hand.  “Say, does anyone else notice something about the biscuits?”  It was close to dinner time and she and Harry and Parvati had gone a bit early to sit and relax at the tables.  There were plates of biscuits on the table for people to take before dinner started as a snack.

“What do you mean?” Parvati asked before she took one from the table and bit into it.  “Oh wait, yeah these taste familiar.  Harry, did you make biscuits lately?”

“I haven’t had the chance to,” Harry replied.  He looked at the biscuits on the table.  “They look kinda familiar…”

“I swear this is your recipe,” Lavender said as she bit into another one.

“You can recognize my recipe?” Harry asked softly, touched.

“Mmmhmm!  I made it a lot too at home and it just tastes good,” Lavender said. 

“Do you think Inky stole the recipe?” Parvati asked.  “Wha-hey!”  She had reached out for another and the plate disappeared.  “Where’d they go?!”

“Inky might’ve heard you,” Harry snickered.  He laughed harder when the full plate appeared before him and an empty plate appeared before Parvati.

“Inky!  I’m sorry!” Parvati said.  “I didn’t mean it like that!”  She huffed when a single biscuit appeared on the plate in front of her. 

“You better apologize to her properly when you see her next,” Lavender giggled.

“I will,” Parvati said.  She smiled when a few more biscuits appeared.  “Are you sharing recipes with her?”

“I cook with her all the time in club,” Harry said.  “I never said she couldn’t use the recipes if she memorized them, I’m pretty happy she likes them enough to want to use them though.”  He smiled.  “It’s really flattering actually.”

“Gosh, I didn’t know students could make suggestions or requests,” Parvati said.

“I doubt most can.  I also doubt most were able to cook either, before Harry,” Lavender said.  “It’s probably because Harry and Inky are friends.”

“Hmm, now I’m curious how the kitchen is run,” Harry mused.  “When I’ve visited, it seems like it’s only the House Elves that work there and no one is in charge aside from them.  I also wonder where they get their groceries and supplies.”

“You’ve visited the kitchens?  Wait, of course you did,” Parvati laughed.  “If anyone could find a way into them, it’d be you.”

“You make it sound like Harry creeps around and looks for secrets,” Lavender giggled, “sneaking about.”

“I can’t be the only one,” Harry laughed, pushing a giggling Parvati gently.  “Knowing where the kitchens are, I mean.”

“I think the Weasley twins know, since they bring up all those things after the Quidditch games,” Parvati said.  “Still, not exactly common knowledge.”

“I’ll have to ask Inky I guess,” Harry said.  “Oh wait, I think I know who else might know.”

-0-

Sprout looked at Harry with bemusement.  “I don’t think I’ve ever had a student ask me that question before.  What a novel experience.”  She smiled at Harry’s flush.  “Not trying to mock you dear.  It’s just, most people don’t even think of it.”

“I’m always interested in where the food comes from,” Harry said.  “I always think I’m lucky when I get to talk to someone that likes to talk about it.”

“You show some sound reasoning coming to me, good show,” Sprout said warmly.  “I actually do happen to know where a good portion of it comes from though, I’m not as responsible for it.  A large portion is purchased and sent to Hogwarts by purveyors and distributors who in turn purchase it from other sources or from farmers.  A large portion is grown close by, fields belonging to Hogwarts.  If they have a problem with a weed or some other invasive magical plant, Hagrid and I are called to assist.”

“Where are they?” Harry asked excitedly, looking about the grounds as if he could see them hiding.

Sprout laughed merrily.  “Out in the boundaries of the Forest or among the mountain range.  And no, it’s not somewhere you can walk to.”  She waggled a finger at him.  “The Forbidden Forest is called that for a reason.  It’s not terribly safe.”

“Hagrid hunts in it,” Harry muttered.

“Hagrid is much taller and much stronger than you,” Sprout said, thoroughly amused.  “He’s a wee bit older than you to be fair.  You need a few more years of growing and maturing before you can be a Hunter enough to brave the Forest.” 

“I can hear a difference to how you say Hunter,” Harry remarked.

“It’s a profession in the Wizarding World,” Sprout explained.  “Those talented to go after magical animals and plants of that nature.”

“Oh that’s interesting,” Harry said, intrigued.

“You’ll learn more about careers and the like soon.  You’ll have a minor meeting this year.  Electives are typically chosen to suit future career prospects.”

“Good to know, thank you Professor.  Do you think I can visit the fields?”

“Not generally a place for students to go to, mostly because none have shown any interest if I’m being honest.”  She hummed softly.  “I suppose we can ask the Headmaster.”

“I’d like that!”

“Splendid.  I personally prefer growing magical plants and things but any kind of horticulture is good with me,” she smiled.  She lowered her voice in a companionably exaggerated whisper.  “I like the magical plants more because they’re more feisty and a challenge.”

“You sound like Hagrid,” Harry laughed.

“That’s why we get along so well,” Sprout smiled.  “Kindred spirits, he and I.”

-0-

Lupin was actually enjoying himself and it worried him slightly.

He had been more than a little concerned about taking the role as professor of Defense against the Dark Arts.  While he never shied away from teaching others skills and experience in the field, it was something else entirely to teach children. 

Being at the school again filled him with so many complicated feelings.  He was happy to be back of course.  He loved Hogwarts, it was like a second home to it.  When he was there, he felt hopeful, at peace.  He felt promise, as if many things were possible.  Which to a very young werewolf boy, just being at the school was a possibility he never imagined.

He remembered the joy of learning here.  He remembered the wonder of having friends, of spending time with them.  The fear of his condition impacting his friendships.  The pure unbridled happiness when they accepted him after learning his secret.

Which of course, he remembered the hell of what came after school.  The terror of fighting a war.  The horror of seeing his friends die, see relationships shatter forever.  The despair of thinking he knew something and then discovering that he in fact knew nothing at all.

The first few classes, his smile was more a rictus of nervousness and despite that, he had proved to be an adequate professor.  The students seemed to like him more or less.  Sure, he heard a few comments about his physical appearance: looking prematurely aged, his less than pristine wardrobe.  He even heard a few clever nicknames but when compared to the ones he had used with his friends, they were tame and made him chuckle.  As the first week drew to an end, his nervousness started to fade.

Until he saw Harry sitting in his classroom.

Remus had been looking forward to and dreading this moment for years.  He still hated himself for withdrawing from the world, cutting ties and links and fading into misery and obscurity.  Seeing the son of his best friends there, looking so much like his father with his mother’s eyes, broke his heart. 

Throughout the lesson, he kept waffling back and forth, debating on what to do.  Harry seemed fine to the unaccustomed eye.  He looked healthy, he was friendly with two girls, Oh how proud James would be, he seemed intelligent and paid attention in class.  He definitely seemed fine.  But Remus was not sure if he actually was. 

When the class ended and the students gathered their things to leave, Remus took a deep breath.  “Mister Potter, would you stay behind for a moment?”

Harry looked up and nodded shyly, looking nervous.  After waving goodbye to his friends, he waited as his desk until Remus approached.

“You’re not in trouble,” Remus said hurriedly, and smiled when Harry relaxed noticeably.  “Forgive me for alarming you.”

“No problem,” Harry said easily.  He looked at the older man quizzically.  “Did I do something else?”

“No, not at all.”  Remus coughed awkwardly.  “I wanted to introduce myself a different way.  I am Remus Lupin…I was a friend of your parents.”

“Really?!”  Harry looked at Remus directly.

Remus’ heart broke further at the expression of longing.  “Yes, I was in the same year as James and Lily.  In fact, I counted them to be very good friends of mine.”  He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a photograph.  Unlike the coat, the photograph was in pristine condition.  He handed it to Harry and the boy took it with shaking hands.

“Wow,” Harry said softly, eyes wide and staring.  It showed James and Lily, smiling and laughing.  They were dressed in casual clothes in front of a small cottage.  “That’s them?”

“Yes,” Remus said, frowning slightly at the question.  “We helped them move into Godric’s Hollow that day, their home after leaving school.  You may keep that, I had it copied for you.”

“Thank you!” Harry said aloud.  He hugged the picture to his chest with desperate strength.  “Thank you, Sir.  I’ve…I’ve never seen them before.”

“You’ve…you’ve never seen them before?” Remus asked, shocked.  “Well, that won’t do.  I will try to go through my old things and will see what pictures I have that can be copied.”

“Thank you,” Harry repeated, a glint in his eye.  “I really appreciate it, Sir.”

Remus’ regret rose once more, clawing at his throat, making it difficult to breathe.  “You’re quite welcome…Harry.  May I call you that?”  He smiled gently at Harry’s nodding.  “And you may call me Remus, outside of class of course.”

“I’m not sure if I can,” Harry smiled weakly.  “It seems a bit disrespectful.”

Remus snorted and laughed.  “Oh my, if only James could hear you say that now.  He never cared about coming off disrespectful.  Neither did your mother come to think of it.”  He saw how hungry Harry looked, how he clung to each detail.  “I’m sure I can share many stories with you through the coming year, and hopefully more.”

“I’d love that,” Harry beamed.

“Unfortunately, we may have to wait on that for now.  I don’t want you to be late for your next class.  Until next time, Harry.”

“Thank you, Sir!”  Harry carefully put the picture in his bag and still hugging it close, dashed off, his smile from ear to ear.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Remus whispered to himself.  “I have a lot to make up for.”

And I’m going to do it right this time.

-0-

“Ah Mister Potter, how are you doing today?”

Harry smiled up at Dumbledore.  “Hello Headmaster, I’m doing fine.  Great even actually.”

“Wonderful!  Happy to hear it,” Dumbledore said with a wide smile.  He did like seeing Harry happy and the boy was clearly quite happy.  “Good day of classes?”

“Yes Sir.  And I learned that Professor Lupin was friends with my parents.  He gave me a picture of them!”  He proudly showed the picture. 

“Ah, now that is a fine photograph,” Dumbledore said warmly, growing misty-eyed at the picture. 

“It’s the first time I’ve ever seen them,” Harry said softly, looking at the picture fondly and forlornly.

“The first time?”  Dumbledore coughed.  “Your caretakers never showed you any pictures, not even of your mother?”

“No Sir.”  Harry’s expression fell.  “Aunt Petunia said she never kept any pictures of my mother.”  He continued to look down, missing the expression on Dumbledore’s face. 

“I see,” Dumbledore said but inwardly he did not.  “Well, then I will have to see if I can rectify that as well.  I might have a picture or two somewhere.  I will look for you.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, brightening once more.  “I’m not in trouble, am I?”

“As far as I know, you are not,” Dumbledore chuckled.  “Shall I go speak with the other professors?”  He laughed when Harry did.  “Actually, if you have a few moments, your presence was requested and some arrangements of things can be made.”

“Oh sure, I was about to go do some homework but it can wait a bit.”

“Worry not, it will not take too much time,” Dumbledore said.  He set off briskly and Harry kept pace.  Eventually the pair walked through the door behind the picture of fruit and Harry gasped with delight seeing the kitchens at work.  The House Elves ran about in orderly chaos, chatting and shouting and food floated around and about as they cooked and prepared and worked away industriously.

Dumbledore smiled, watching Harry follow the action.  “Such a grand sight, is it not?  The Elves have remarkable teamwork and work so hard and well.”

“They even have some stations,” Harry said excitedly.  “They look like they’re doing raw preparation, they are doing meat preparation.  They look like they’re making all the sauces.  It’s like a professional kitchen!”

He looked up at the Headmaster.  “I was wanting to ask, is there someone that runs the full kitchen or is in charge?”

“That is partially why I brought you today,” Dumbledore said.  “While the Headmaster is the decider of all things in Hogwarts, a good Headmaster knows how to delegate.  In many years past, a witch or wizard was responsible for the day-to-day operations of the kitchens but eventually the House Elves took responsibility.  As more House Elves came to serve Hogwarts, they were able to run the kitchens just as well if not better than many other magicals in the past.  Especially since the House Elves of Hogwarts have a peculiarity that most others in Wizarding Britain do not, they are loyal to the school and tangentially loyal to those that work or inhabit it.”

He pointed at a chef’s toque with a large knife pinning it to the wall.  “That was the toque of the last wizard that tried to enforce his will over the kitchen elves, many many years ago.  I will have to try and find the story in its entirety; it is rather entertaining if I recall.  Ah Inky!  Do you have a moment?  You and Ebbers?”

“Yes Headmaster.  Hello Mister Harry!”  Inky set a pan aside and another House Elf slid into place at her station.  She dashed through the organized chaos and came back with another House Elf.  He looked older than Inky but had the same giant eyes and large ears that all House Elves had.  He wore a chef’s toque and his apron over his toga had a badge clipped to, one with crossed knives.

“Headmaster,” he said respectfully, nodding slightly.  His eyes opened with interest when he looked up at Harry.  “Ah, this is the wizardling that cooks?”

“That’s Mister Harry,” Inky said with mild reproof.  “Mister Harry, this is Ebbers.  He is Head Chef Elf.”

“Nice to meet you Sir,” Harry said respectfully.

Dumbledore hid his smile at Ebbers’ shocked expression.  Inky giggled, amused.  “No one calls Ebbers Sir,” Ebbers said.  “Not even the Headmaster.”

“I can if you wish,” Dumbledore smiled fully.  “I always thought you preferred your name or your title when things were more formal.”

“Ebbers does, it was just novelty to be called Sir.”  Ebbers smiled at Harry.  “Ebbers likes you.  No wonder the Elves do.”

“Thank you, Sir.  Or Chef if you prefer?”

Ebbers beamed.  “Chef is good.  Ebbers wanted to meet you.  Your recipes have been making the rounds in the kitchen.  Of course, Inky speaks of you, highly and often.”

“Inky told you Mister Harry can cook,” Inky sniffed.

“Ebbers never said he couldn’t,” Ebbers retorted.  “Inky made your biscuits for snacks today.  Before only for the Elves to munch on in between but they were sent up for the students and Elves hear they like them.  Inky also made your soup for us to eat and wants to make the butter chicken.”

“Oh wow, I’m glad you like them so much,” Harry said, deeply flattered.

“They taste good and are good recipes,” Ebbers said plainly, without any exaggerated flattery.  “Ebbers thought best to ask you before we do so again.”

“Of course, they aren’t like secret recipes or anything,” Harry said.

Ebbers blinked a few times and Inky looked smug.  “Told you Mister Harry is kind,” she said.

“Ebbers never said he wasn’t,” Ebbers sniffed.  “House Elves have their own pride.  We won’t poach or steal another’s recipes without proper return.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asked.

“It means we are in uncharted territory,” Dumbledore said.  “Very rarely in the history of Hogwarts has a student had any effect on the kitchens and that is typically due to a food allergy or restriction, which are rare in the Wizarding World.  In my tenure as Headmaster, and farther back even, there’s been no record of a student prompting any kind of dietary change in the kitchen.”

“House Elves usually cook by The Book,” Ebbers said and Harry could hear the emphasis on the words.  “Recipes written from back to the time of the Founders with small additions here and there.  In fact, many in the past refused to deviate.  But when food is good, it is good and we are willing to try new things.”

“Some Elves have said food is getting boring,” Inky whispered, the last word uttered with horrified revulsion.

Ebbers shuddered a little too.  “So we is wanting to change some and Inky and some of the other Elves swear by your cooking.  But we don’t expect you to give us recipes willy nilly or for nothing.”  He shrugged slightly.  “And we have to try and cook it ourselves and see if it’s good for the school to eat.”

“Well I don’t mind keeping to cook with Inky and a few others in club and the like,” Harry said.  “I like cooking with Inky,” smiling when her own smile spread from ear to ear.  “And if you want to take the recipe and change it to serve the school, I’d be awful flattered by that.”

Ebbers looked pleased.  “Good!  But Mister Harry is needing to be compensated fairly for it.”

“I don’t know if I feel right getting paid for it,” Harry frowned.  “Oh well, I’ve been a little worried about borrowing things from the school kitchens.  I know the club has funds we’ve used to buy things and I’ve used my own money too.  How about we trade for ingredients and things?”

“I am fine with that, within reason from both parties of course,” Dumbledore said.

“Mister Harry is as generous as kind,” Ebbers said in awe.  “Very good.  Ebbers will introduce you to Quarters.  Quarters is in charge of supply and the pantry and storage.  Quarters!  Up front!” 

“Quarters is short for Quartermaster,” Dumbledore explained to Harry.  “One of the past magicals that worked in the kitchen had experience in the military and dubbed their assistant House Elf as such.  The name was shortened and has become a title of great importance for the Hogwarts House Elves.  The latest Quarters has been at the post for quite some time.”

An even older looking House Elf appeared, his skin less shiny and more wrinkled compared to the other two House Elves, though his eyes were bright and glittered.  Much to Harry’s delight, he wore a military style cap with the Hogwarts crest on it and had a belt festooned with pouches around his toga.  He also held a small swagger stick that he tucked under one arm.

“Ah, the wizardling,” Quarters croaked, looking at Harry with intelligent eyes. 

“Mister Harry,” Inky hissed.

“Ah, wizardling Mister Harry,” Quarters croaked, smiling at Inky’s huff.

“You all can call me Harry, really,” Harry smiled.

“Ah, wizardling Harry reall-“ Quarters started.

“Yes yes,” Ebbers said, waving his hands impatiently.  “Harry has been kind to share recipes with us and cook with us.  The Kitchens will help Harry and we will trade for things.”

“Understood,” Quarters said.  He poked Harry gently with his swagger stick.  “Don’t take advantage, wizardling Harry.”

“Harry would never!” Inky said indignantly, smacking the stick away.  She glared back at Quarters, hands on her hips and ignoring the way he shook his stick at her.

“I swear,” Harry grinned.

“Good good,” Quarters said approvingly.  They stared when Harry held out his hand to them.

“Shouldn’t we shake?” Harry asked, all of a sudden uncertain.  “We have a deal, right?”

Quarters and Ebbers stared at each other and looked even more shocked when Inky shook Harry’s hand enthusiastically.  Ebbers than followed suit and after a moment, Quarters did the same.  “Very good,” Ebbers said, his warm tone still laced with surprise.  “If Headmaster and Harry will excuse, we still have much to do before dinner.”

“Thank you for your time,” Dumbledore said.

“Thank you,” Harry said happily.  “See you later.”

“Bye Harry!” Inky said, waving energetically and Ebbers waved too while Quarters waved his stick.

“Did I do something wrong?” Harry asked when the pair left the kitchens.

“Not at all,” Dumbledore said.  “They were just very surprised.  Not many treat the House Elves with such kindness and respect.”

“Why not?” Harry asked, frowning.

“Unfortunately, they are seen as lesser beings since they serve people,” Dumbledore said slowly.  “Most treat them as an afterthought and plenty treat them rather poorly.”

“Well that’s stupid,” Harry said.  “They have feelings just like anyone else.”

“That they do,” Dumbledore said.  He looked at Harry with pride.  “You are a good person, Harry.”

“Oh, well, thank you, Sir,” Harry said, embarrassed.  “I guess, I know what it feels like to be talked down to because you cook or do things for others.”

Dumbledore frowned.  “Empathy to others that you understand their experiences is a valuable thing yes, but it does not preclude you from being a good person.”  He felt better when Harry brightened.  “I look forward to your partnership with the kitchens as well as to the amazing food that will be coming.  Oh and I spoke with Professor Sprout.  I think we can find time for you to visit the fields and the like.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Harry said brightly.

“It is a genuine pleasure,” Dumbledore said warmly.

-0-

“Mister Potter, a word if you please.”

“I’ve been called out by a lot of professors lately,” Harry grinned as he walked to Flitwick.

“Oh?  Nothing troubling I hope?” Flitwick asked with a broad smile.

“No Sir, actually, all very nice.”

“Then I am pleased to continue the trend.  I just received a notice that you and the kitchens have come to a close agreement on groceries and things?”

“Yes Sir!  I’m sort of sharing recipe ideas with them and they’re going to trade for groceries for us.”

“How wonderful!  And I knew the biscuits they laid out in the staff room were familiar!”  Flitwick clapped his hands.  “I knew you did not make them directly but I like to think I’ve tasted it enough to recognize the recipe.”

“I’m still surprised people can do that,” Harry beamed.

“It’s high time you are recognized properly for your efforts,” Flitwick said quietly and sincerely.  “Remember Mister Potter, your efforts are appreciated, as are you.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Harry said, flushing but feeling warm.

“You are quite welcome,” Flitwick said kindly.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

19^th Course – Moons and Maladies

“Hi Harry.”

“Hi Sue.”  He finished writing his sentence, and looked up when Sue slid into the chair opposite from him.  “What’s up?”

“I was wondering if we could do something for our next club or if we can do something out of it.”  Sue tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.  “The Mid-Autumn Festival is coming up and I want to do something for it.”

“Sure, what’s that?” Harry asked, intrigued.

“It’s an important holiday in my family and culture,” Sue explained.  “It’s celebrated during the biggest full moon of the year and people make offerings to it for all sorts of reasons.  One of the most important parts of it is for family to come together and have a good meal together for prosperity and good luck.  We weren’t able to do it last year because of school but when Padma told me you were able to make curry without having made it before, I wanted to ask if we can do it.”

“I’d love to try,” Harry said softly.  “It’s important like you said and a tradition, right?”

Sue nodded.  “There’s a lot of traditional foods you make and eat with it but I don’t really know how to make them.  But there is one thing we could make that I’m pretty familiar with and with the recipe, I’m sure you and I can figure it out together like you and the Patils did.”

“I’m game.”  His smile joined Sue’s.  “What is it?”

“Dumplings,” Sue said happily. 

“Oh I’ve seen them and have always wanted to try and make them!”  He quailed at Madam Pince’s irritated hiss from the front of the library.  “Sorry!” he said in a loud whisper.  “I’ve seen them and have always wanted to try and make them,” he whispered to a giggling Sue.

“Great!” she said quietly but enthusiastically.  “I’ll write home for the exact recipe for the dumpling wrappers but I’ve made them too so it’ll be good.  Here’s a list of things for the filling and I’ll help pay for them of course.”

Harry looked over the list.  “We can get most of that stuff through Hogwarts but that other stuff we’ll need to order.  I’ll go to Hedwig after I finish my essay and we can see about getting them.”

“I’ll ask home for stuff too.  Oh I’m so excited!” Sue said happily.

-0-

“Hmm, unfortunately I have prior commitments that night,” Flitwick said, “but I have no problem with you using the clubroom.  You’ve proved yourself and I trust you.”  He smiled at Harry’s obvious pleasure.  “The usual caveats apply of course.”

“Be careful and make sure you have your fair share,” Harry said happily.

“Indeed!”  He hesitated.  “May I ask you for a favor, however?”

“Of course, Professor.  You’ve done so much for us, I’d be happy to,” Harry said seriously.

Flitwick smiled gratefully.  “Thank you, Harry.  Rest assured that I do what I do out of genuine enjoyment and I ask you for this not out of recompense, but I believe in you and trust you.  One of my firsties is having a spot of trouble fitting in.”  He frowned a little.  “In fact, I suspect there’s been some bullying.”

“That’s not good,” Harry said.  “Why is she being bullied?”

“She means well but she’s a bit…odd,” Flitwick said.  “She’s had a tougher upbringing and I do hate phrasing it so, you might be able to relate a bit.”  He noticed Harry’s alarm and that made him grow concerned for more than a moment.  “As in she lost her mother at a young age.”

“Oh! Oh, that,” Harry said, feeling a little better, oddly.  “I mean, yes, I can understand that.”  Flitwick looked at him curiously but decided to not press further, at least not at that moment.  “That’s an awful reason to bully someone,” Harry said with more than a little disgust.

“I agree and I truly hope that is not the reason,” Flitwick said severely.  “But she does say and do a few things eccentrically and that has drawn the attention of others, which leads to the unfortunate state of things. 

“How can I help?” Harry asked.

Flitwick smiled with relief.  “If you could be there for her, I would be in your debt.  I feel like you and she can relate a little, as I said.  You are quite kind and get along with people and I trust you.”

“I’m not that kind,” Harry protested weakly.  “I don’t get along with everyone to be fair.”

Flitwick chuckled.  “Fair, but let us say that you get along with most, those that are pleasant.  Or at least have become mostly pleasant,” he amended.

“As long as they’re nice first,” Harry said.  He chuckled a little, realizing what the Charms professor was alluding to.  “Or like you said, become nice eventually.  What’s her name?”

“Luna Lovegood.  And thank you, Harry.  I truly appreciate it.”

-0-

Hedwig barked in greeting the next morning, circling around and landing carefully so as not to disturb the package she carried.  She danced up and down, puffing out her chest when Harry undid the ties and took the box from her. 

“Good job,” he praised, scratching her head and smiling when she nibbled on his fingers.  He pushed his bacon to the side of his plate and opened the package when she started munching on the rashers.  “Oh hey, it’s the special things we ordered.”

“Ooh for the dumplings?” Lavender asked as she petted Hedwig.

“Mmhmm!  Soy sauce, sesame oil, and rice vinegar.”  Harry showed her the bottles. 

“I love soy sauce,” Lavender said.  She unstopped the vinegar and took a sniff.  “Woo!  That’s strong,” she said as her eyes watered a little.

Harry poured a drop onto his hand and licked it experimentally.  “That’s sharp,” he said, smacking his lips.  “Different from white and malt vinegar obviously.  Less harsh and more mild.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Lavender laughed.  “At least until I try it later with things.”  She winced a little.  “Please don’t tell me the Dursleys made you drink vinegar or something.”

“No, why?” Harry asked, puzzled.

“Thank goodness,” Lavender said, hand to her chest.  “Oh no reason, just checking.”

“Did the rice vinegar come in?” Sue asked, walking up to them eagerly.

“It did.  Wait, did you smell it all the way from your table?” Harry asked, surprised.

“I noticed the smell,” Sue laughed.  “It’s so familiar and once I got a whiff I came over.”

“It’s true, her head came up like a dog’s,” Padma giggled, having followed after.

“I remember you doing it last year when you said Parvati got the spices from home,” Sue smiled.  “I also got the chili oil from home so we can do it whenever we want!”

“Great!  Say, question for you two.  Do you know Luna Lovegood?”

“Not well,” Padma said.  “She’s a firstie, a bit strange to be honest.”

“How so?” Harry asked.

“She’s very…oh how do I say this politely, a bit out of it,” Padma said slowly.  “She talks about things no one has ever heard of.  She takes dreaminess to a whole new level.”

“She also talks about strange theories like how the Ministry wants to control the pie making industry and something about fire monsters,” Sue continued.  “Apparently her father runs the Quibbler.  A very odd magazine full of those kinds of things,” she explained at Harry’s questioning look.

“Why do you ask?” Padma asked.

“Professor Flitwick asked me to talk to her and be there for her, said she was having trouble fitting in,” Harry said.  He frowned a little.  “Said she’s being bullied.”

Padma and Sue looked at each other uncomfortably.  “Maybe a little,” Sue said uneasily. 

“It’s the upper years,” Padma said just as uneasily.  “You don’t really stand up to them.”

“I don’t like bullies,” Harry said frankly.  “I’ve known too many.”

“We haven’t done anything to her,” Sue said in a small voice.  “But we haven’t really done the opposite either.”

“Can you point her out to me?” Harry asked.  He looked across to the Ravenclaw table, following their pointing fingers.  He saw a very small girl with long silver-blonde hair and pale skin, blue eyes that were just a little too big.  She sat alone at the end, eating slowly. 

“She looks really lonely,” Lavender said quietly, sadly.

“Can you bring her with you?” Harry asked.

“We’ll bring her when we do the dumplings,” Sue said, her voice growing more firm.

“We’ll try to be nicer,” Padma said, voice no longer quiet or uneasy.

“Thanks,” Harry said, smiling at them.

-0-

“You are at the correct classroom,” Snape said dryly when he saw students stop at the door and look at him in confusion.  “Professor Lupin is ill and I am substituting for him.”

“Oh no, I hope he’s okay,” Lavender said as they walked into the classroom.

“He is ill, not dying,” Snape said even more dryly.  “If it pleases you, I will pass along your well wishes,” he continued sarcastically.

“Thank you, Professor!” Lavender said brightly.  “I’d appreciate that and I’m sure he would too!”

Snape clearly did not expect that response, staring at the bubbly girl with astonishment and the rest of the class giggled and snickered.  “Sit down before I take points away,” he said coolly and the class hurriedly complied.  His lips curled in a not-quite smile.  “Turn to page 94.  According to his class notes, you are learning the differences between Jinxes, Hexes, and Curses. You will spend the first half of the class reading and we will have a quiz in the latter half.”

This time he smiled sincerely while the class gave muted groans.

-0-

 “Me and my big mouth,” Lavender grumbled when they left.  Snape had called on her after every other student in a clear form of reprisal for her comment at the beginning.

“At least you got most of them right,” Parvati said comfortingly.

“Only because you and Harry cracked your textbooks open on the page and he didn’t catch me glancing down at either one in between,” Lavender sighed.

“At least he didn’t demonstrate on you like he did Corner,” Harry said comfortingly, with the three of them snickering at the memory.  Snape had cast the Jelly-Leg Jinx on Michael Corner and let the boy wobble around the class while Snape made him repeat the definitions to his satisfaction after the Ravenclaw boy muttered a snide correcting remark when asked a question.

“He deserved it.  Snape is the only professor you don’t mouth off to,” Parvati said.  “Well you don’t mouth off to any of them for different reasons.  Professor Flitwick is so nice and fun, Sprout is nice too.”

“And Professor McGonagall will make you regret it too a different way,” Harry said with a light shudder.

“Binns wouldn’t notice,” Lavender smiled.  “And Professor Sinistra will bop you on the head with her book.”  She giggled.  “Remember when I asked why she didn’t bop people in the head with her telescope?”

“’And ruin my precious telescope on thick skulls?’” Parvati gasped in a very good imitation of Professor Aurora Sinistra, the Astronomy professor.  “’Students come and go but this is precious and very expensive equipment!’”

“In her defense, it’s a very nice looking telescope,” Harry chuckled.

 “I’m glad we’re done for the day and can’t wait for dumplings tonight,” Parvati said, rubbing her stomach.  “Our dumplings are called momos and I love them.”

“That’s a cute name,” Lavender said.  “Are they made the same way?”

“Pretty similar I think, at least that’s what Padma said when she looked at Sue’s recipe.  I think the filling is the major difference and maybe the shape?”

“Well let’s get our homework out of the way so we can enjoy ourselves more,” Harry said.

“Ugh, you and Padma and Hermione are so similar sometimes,” Parvati sighed, sticking her tongue out.

“I could say the same about you and Padma,” Harry grinned.  He snorted when Parvati shoved him while Lavender giggled merrily.

-0-

“Okay, these are darling,” Lavender cooed.  She held up a small rolling pin, much smaller than a typical rolling pin and it was made from a single piece of wood, smoothed and oiled. 

She, Parvati, Harry, Hermione, and Neville had gotten to the clubroom first and Harry was setting things up with the others assisting where they could.  All the ingredients were waiting for them on a side table or in the ice box and Harry was laying them out.

“Why is it so small?” she asked.  “It looks like you can use it with one hand!”

“It’s a special one apparently,” Harry said.  “And you’re supposed to only use it for one hand.  It’s easier to use than a regular one for dumpling wrappers.”

“I’ve never heard of these kinds of dumplings,” Neville said.  “I thought all dumplings were things cooked in soup or stew or like dessert things with fruit in them.”

“Those are British dumplings,” Hermione said.  “I did some reading and ours are traditionally made with suet.”

“Bless you,” Parvati said.

Hermione smiled.  “Suet is animal fat, usually beef or mutton.”

“Really?  Weird,” Lavender said and she and Parvati made identical faces.  “Have you made them before, Harry?”

He nodded.  “Mmhmm.  They are good in stew.  Nice and doughy and absorbs the gravy nicely.  They can get really dense and chewy if you overwork the dough though.”

“That’s why I don’t overwork,” Parvati said airily.

“You’re dense to begin with,” Padma said, catching the last bit as she walked in. 

“Your face is dense,” Parvati said crossly.

Harry chuckled while the others laughed and then Sue and Luna came walking in.  Luna looked a little nervous as she looked at the others, head turning back and forth slowly.  “Hi,” he said as friendly as he could.  “My name is Harry.  Welcome to the Household Charms clubroom.”

“Hello,” the smaller girl said, her voice shy and dreamy.  “My name is Luna.”  She blinked a few times.  “Do you know why I am here?”

“I asked Padma and Sue to invite you,” Harry said.

“Oh?  Why?”

“Well, to be honest, Professor Flitwick asked me to be friends with you,” Harry said nervously.  He flushed a little at the slightly exasperated looks from Lavender and Parvati.  “But I always like making new friends and would like to, if you would.”

Luna stared at him with her very large eyes.  “You want to be friends with me?” she asked timidly.

“I do,” Harry said with a firm nod.

She smiled for the first time and it was a bright one.  “That sounds nice.  I would like a friend.”  She skipped over and sat beside him at the preparing table and continued to look around the room with interest.

Hermione and Neville shared a confused look while Parvati tilted her head at Luna.  She flinched when Padma dug a finger in her side and the two sisters started to squabble softly in a different language.  Lavender looked between Harry and Luna while Sue looked on with a vaguely unsure expression.  Then arguing could be heard outside and the door opened.

“I’m beginning to think that you don’t like Sunny,” Millicent complained.

“I like her just fine as long as she doesn’t mess my things up!” Pansy retorted.

“You learned the anti-clawing charms and she hasn’t damaged any of your things since!”

“Which she has retaliated by hiding them!  Dragging them all over the place!”

“You know, she realizes that it irritates you so if you don’t react, she’ll stop.”

“That shows malicious intent!  Also she’s a kneazle, not a child!”

“Of course she’s not a child, she’s smarter than one,” Millicent said proudly, “and she’s still a kitten.”

“Fine, you know what, from now on, I will be hiding your things every time she hides mine.  You can share my pain.”  Pansy huffed and turned away when Millicent made a rude hand gesture.  “I will tell your mother!”

“You snitch!” Millicent gasped.

“I haven’t done it yet,” Pansy sniffed. 

“You premature snitch!”

“Your face is premature!”  They glowered at one another before they faced the room and saw that everyone was staring at them.  “Oh!  Uh, hello everyone,” Pansy said awkwardly.

“Wow, you two are practically sisters,” Parvati said and Padma nodded.

“I treat her a little better than my actual sister,” Pansy said lamely.  “Mostly because my little sister is a brat.”

“I only have brothers,” Millicent said.  “And they’re both annoying too.  Pansy’s a little better than them.”  She noticed Luna.  “Oh hey, someone new.  Hi.”

“Hello,” Luna said, waving slightly.  “I’m Luna Lovegood.”

“Lovegood?  Are you Xenophilius’ daughter?”  Pansy’s eyebrow rose.  “The one that runs the Quibbler?”

“What’s the Quibbler?” Hermione asked while Luna nodded happily.

“It is a magazine of dubious quality,” Pansy began and coughed when Luna suddenly glared and Harry gave her a stern look from behind Luna, shaking his head from side to side.  “Which I mean it has some very…interesting articles of…alternative viewpoints.”

“Daddy likes alternative viewpoints,” Luna said, mollified by Pansy’s hasty correction.  “He thinks they are more akin to the truth than to lies.”

“Which is one way of looking at it,” Pansy said slowly.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Sue said suddenly and a trifle loudly.  “We’ll want the dumpling wrapper dough to sit and rest a bit.”

“Yes, good idea,” Harry said hastily.

At Sue’s direction, he added warm water to the flour with a pinch of salt, stirring the flour with chopsticks until a very shaggy dough formed.  Pouring the mixture onto a floured worktop, he kneaded slowly, working the simple dough into an eventual smooth round ball.  Once done, it was set aside to rest with a moistened towel on top to keep it from drying out.

“What kind of filling are we making?” Parvati asked.

“Pork mince and napa cabbage and scallions,” Sue said.  She was peeling the leaves off the long feathery edged cabbage and washing them with water and the produce cleaning charm that Harry taught her.

“That does look like a more pleasant cabbage to nap on,” Luna said.  “More so than regular cabbages.”

“I don’t think that’s why they call it that though,” Sue smiled.

“I kinda agree with Luna actually,” Parvati said.

Harry mixed thinly sliced cabbage with the minced pork meat and chopped scallions and added the seasonings which included soy sauce, sesame oil, white and black pepper, salt, sugar, minced garlic, and grated ginger.

“What’s the difference between white and black pepper?” Lavender asked.

“How they’re prepared,” Harry said as he continued to mix the meat filling.  “White pepper is made from soaking the peppercorns before drying them to get rid of the skin.  Black pepper is dried with the skin on.  The taste is different too.  Black pepper is hotter and white pepper is more mild and earthy.”

“It’s the same plant too,” Neville said.  “And peppercorns start off green.”

The meat filling was finished and set aside.  Sue then helped roll the wrapper dough into long thin logs and cut them into small pieces.  She showed Harry how to roll them on the tabletop until they were round balls and then patted them flat with the palm of the hand.  Then with the small rolling pin, she showed him how to roll out a wrapper.

“You want to hold the wrapper on one hand and turn it while you use the other hand to roll out,” she explained as she demonstrated.  “And you want the edges to be thinner than the center so you can pleat the edges on top and the bottom won’t be too thin for it to break while cooking.”

Harry watched her before following suit.  It took a little bit for him to get used to using the smaller rolling pin with one hand using the palm and the heel to roll while holding the pin in the center instead of holding the ends with fingers.  After some practice, he was rolling them out in even circles.  “Like this?”

Sue picked one up and nodded.  “Yeah, just like this.  Are you sure you haven’t done this before?  This is really good.”

“I haven’t,” Harry said, smiling with pink cheeks.  “You’re a good teacher though.”

“I’ve done this before and I’m still not too great at it,” Sue grumbled.  “How are you so good at it?”

“He’s a great cook,” Lavender said proudly.

“Save my self-esteem and tell me that you’ve done something similar at least,” Sue begged.

“Uhm, I’ve rolled out really thin pie crusts before?” Harry said weakly.

“I’ll take it,” Sue sighed.

After they made a pile of wrappers, she showed them how to make the dumplings themselves.  “So you wet the edges with a little water to help them stick, and then put a dollop of the mixture in the middle.  Not too much though or it’ll explode.  Then you hold the ends between your thumbs and pointers like this and fold them over and over like this.”  She proudly showed them a finished dumpling and they admired it.  “Oh and part of the fun is for everyone to do it together,” she added.

“What if we mess it up?” Neville asked nervously.

“You will at first,” Sue said frankly.  “But you keep going and they’ll still taste good at the end.”

Padma and Parvati fell to easily, having made momos at home in the past.  Lavender found the process to be a lot of fun and she readily got better, making the pleats very tight and neat.  Hermione and Neville struggled a little but they laughed as they compared their misshapen dumplings and Luna quietly and contentedly worked on one for a long time before moving on to another.  After a few moments of watching, Pansy started and Millicent joined after.

“Mother would be beside herself,” Pansy said as she slowly and laboriously pleated her dumpling, eyes narrowed in concentration.

“Why?” Lavender asked.

Pansy floundered a little.  “We…we never aided in any kind of food preparation.  It was not proper.”

“Same,” Millicent said.  She frowned as her dumpling came out a little squished, the filling peeking out at one end.  “I’m rubbish at it.”

“Everyone looks like that at first,” Sue said.  She snorted when Millicent pointed at Harry’s and Lavender’s.  “Harry is an amazing cook apparently and Lavender does a lot of sewing and intricate stuff so they have an excuse.  Keep at it,” she said encouragingly.

Millicent sighed but resolutely picked up another one and clumsily worked at it, slowly improving.

Pansy finished hers and looked at it glumly.

“Looks better than my first one,” Harry said and pointed at his misshapen first one.

“You’re a dreadful liar,” Pansy said but she smiled a little.  She picked up another wrapper and tried again.  With all of them working together, they soon had mountains of dumplings finished and everyone had good looking ones by the end.

“Now what?” Lavender asked eagerly.

“Now we cook them!  And there’s three ways of doing it!”  Sue pointed at the three different things on the stove.  “You can boil them and those are called Shui jiao, water dumplings.  You can panfry them and those are called Guo tie or potstickers.  Finally, you can steam them and they’re called Zheng jiao.”

“You can cook the same thing three different ways?” Neville asked.

“Yeah and they all have different textures and slightly different flavors, I love them all,” Sue said happily.

She taught Harry how to make them in different ways.  The water dumplings were put into water and boiled until done.  The steamed ones sat in a bamboo steamer over bubbling water until they were done.  The potstickers required the most work but even then, it was relatively simple.  They sat in a pan with a little oil until the bottoms were browned.  A bit of water was added and a lid placed on top to steam cook the insides.  Once the water was boiled away, the heat was turned up a bit to crisp up the bottoms once more and they too were done.

“And these are how you make your dipping sauces,” Sue said.  “You can go with simple soy sauce or mix it with some sesame oil, chopped scallions, vinegar, or chili oil.  Careful though, the chili oil is super hot.  Like super extra fire hot.  Way worse than the curry.”

“Challenge accepted,” Parvati said and she scooped up a little of the chili oil.

“Challenge unaccepted,” Neville laughed and steered clear of the menacingly red chili oil.

“Thank you for sharing the recipe,” Harry said happily.  “These all look wonderful.”

“Thanks for making it happen!  I’m so happy I get to eat food from home for the Mid-Autumn Festival,” Sue said brightly.  “Let’s eat!”  She bit into one enthusiastically and she smiled widely.  “This is it, this is home.  Oh it tastes so good!”

“Ooh, hot hot hot!” Hermione said, fanning her mouth.  “Wow, this is incredible!”

“I love how chewy and smooth the water ones are!” Lavender said as she dipped one into her sauce.  “Hard to keep a hold of though.”

“You can say that again,” Neville said as he juggled one before popping it into his mouth.

“I like how crunchy the pan-fried ones are,” Harry exclaimed.  “It’s got a nice texture.”

“You look like you ate a bunch of Pepper Imps that were dusted with Auntie Anvi’s super spicy masala,” Padma giggled.

“And this stuff would still be hotter!”  Parvati drank her glass of water dry.  “It’s tasty though!”

Luna ate each dumpling with a focused intensity, nibbling it down to nothing before she started the next.  She hummed happily to herself as she ate.

Pansy looked at her plate with open wonder.  “Is this an invention by Chinese Magicals?”

Sue shook her head.  “Not really.  At least, no Chinese Magical claimed the origin of it.  It’s been made by Chinese people for ages and ages.  It’s one of our traditional meals.”

“Muggles made this?” Pansy asked.  She looked thoughtful as she ate more, chewing slowly and savoring the flavor.  The meat was juicy and the water boiled dumplings had a pleasantly chewy texture.  It almost seemed to slide down her throat easily.  The meat was savory and spiced and the fragrant sesame oil mixed with sharp vinegar and savory-salty soy sauce.  The nooks and crannies of the water dumplings collected all the sauce, flavoring every bite.

“Oh,” she said, noticing a steamed dumpling that Harry was reaching for.  “That one is mine.  Perhaps you should take another.  It looks a bit sad compared to the others.”

Harry took it and dipped it into his sauce and popped it into his mouth.  “Tastes wonderful,” he said stoutly.

“You made the filling,” Pansy said with a small blush.

“And you wrapped it,” Harry said.  “Good job.”

“Th-thank you,” Pansy stammered.

They ate until everyone was full and Inky appeared to gleefully take the ones allotted for the Elves and Flitwick.  Harry included some for Dumbledore and Lupin as well.  “Wow, we ate so many,” Harry grinned.

“They freeze wonderfully,” Sue said.  “And it adds like maybe a couple more minutes to the cook time.  I love them.”

“They’re wonderful,” Lavender said.

“We’ve been seriously missing out,” Millicent said.  “Thanks again for sharing the recipe and stuff.  Oh, we can chip in some coins for everything,” she added and Pansy nodded in agreement.

“We got mostly everything through trade with the kitchens,” Harry said soothingly.  “I bought the sauces and Sue said we’re going to use them for other things so it’s fine.  You can chip in for when we make something you want to eat.  That might make things easier actually, take turns coming up with ideas and the decider puts in a bit for it.”

“That works,” Parvati said and the others nodded.

“Did you enjoy yourself Luna?” Harry asked.

Luna’s smile lit up the room.  “I did!  Thank you for inviting me and wanting to be my friend.”  Her smile faded a little.  “I can’t remember the last time I ate with others, and such good food too.”

“I know what that’s like,” Harry said softly.  “Don’t worry, you’re always welcome.”  He smiled when her brilliant smile returned.

Neville coughed awkwardly.  “Can you explain what the Festival is for?”

Sue nodded, looking sadly at Luna and Harry for a moment.  “It’s to wish for a good harvest and to pay respects to the moon.  It’s also a time for family and for prosperity and fortune.”

“Why pay respects to the moon?” Pansy asked, looking away from Harry.  “I know many magicals do that for rituals and the like.  Why do the Muggles?”

“Folklore and legend,” Luna said all of a sudden.  “To honor the woman that became the moon goddess and to allow her to visit her lover on earth that can only happen once per year.  Or if you believe that she drank an elixir of immortality to escape a man but I prefer the former, it is happier.  There is also the rabbit in the moon that offered its life to feed a hungry man, and a god took him to the moon to honor his selflessness.”

“That…that first one is right.  Chang’e is the goddess of the moon,” Sue said, surprised.  “When she lived on Earth as a mortal, she drank an elixir of immortality and ascended into the heavens and became the moon goddess.  And I think the rabbit is a Japanese story.”

“I like moon stories,” Luna said serenely.  “For my name if you were wondering.”

After cleaning together and putting things away, they left for their common rooms, full and content after all that work and enjoying the fruits of their labors.  “I like Luna,” Parvati said.  “She’s a bit dotty but not in a bad way.”

“Yeah, she’s sweet and she looked a lot happier when we were leaving,” Lavender said.

“Sounds like she’s had a rough time of things,” Hermione said.  Her eyes flicked to Harry.

“I think we all have in our own way,” Harry said softly.  “Guess that’s why we can be friends.”

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

20^th Course – Signs and Sabotage

“Are you really trying out for the Quidditch team Harry?” Neville asked.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Harry said.  “Why?”

“Oh I heard Seamus mention it when he and Ron were talking about going to the try-out.  Apparently it’s a rumor.”

“Oh no, I think Oliver wanted me to.  He’s been trying to convince me during Flying club but I’m honestly not that fussed about it,” Harry laughed.  “I love flying but I think practice and stuff would get in the way of Household Charms and well, we know how much I like to cook.”

“Really?” Neville asked with insincere surprise.

Harry laughed more.  “But apparently the whole Quidditch team is a part of Flying club and Oliver treats it as extra practice time and he asked if I’d help them train.  I said that sounded like fun at least.”

“Oh that’s probably where the rumor came from,” Neville said.  “That’s cool though.  I don’t like flying all that much.”

“Me neither,” Lavender said as she and Parvati and Hermione caught up to the two boys on the way to Herbology.  They walked together over the grounds and towards the greenhouses.  “I’m airheaded enough without having to literally have my head in the air.”

“Ooh that’s clever.  Wait, how’d you think of it if you’re so airheaded?” Parvati asked.  She snickered and squealed when Lavender kicked her rear.

“My Daddy,” Lavender smiled.  “I think it’s cute though.”

The small group passed the Slytherins leaving the class.  On the whole, they ignored each other save for some glaring from certain parties, but they heartily returned the hellos and waves to Pansy and Millicent who smiled and waved as they passed.

“It must be tough to have pale skin sometimes,” Parvati remarked.

“Where did that come from?” Lavender asked.

“Just saying it’s easy to tell when you’re about to blow your top,” Parvati giggled, pointing surreptitiously at a very irate Draco.  “Literally.”  The rest of them snickered appreciatively at her remarks and while the Slytherin boy was too far to hear them, he accurately guessed that they were talking about him and grew even redder.

Herbology class was fun.  Sprout was as enthusiastic about the subject as Flitwick was about Charms and had a robust sense of humor.  She had the class in gales of laughter when she spanked the Tentacula for being naughty and trying to bite her.  After going over the care and uses for their latest plant, refreshing flowers, she set them on their way.

“You’d be interested in these, Mister Potter,” she said as she passed.  “Put a couple beside fruit and produce and they keep them fresher for longer.  They absorb some of the things that cause things to ripen too swiftly.”

“Wow, that’s interesting!” Harry exclaimed.  “All kinds of fruit and produce?”

“The vast majority, though mostly the mundane ones.  They can react a bit funny with magical ones,” Sprout said, enjoying his obvious interest.  “Plus they are rather pretty when in bloom.  Miss Brown, Miss Granger, would you mind grabbing some of those pots out of the back corner?”

“No Ma’am,” they said together and went to get them.  However, something made Lavender pause and when she bent to look, she dropped one with a shriek and backed away hurriedly, pulling Hermione with her.  “There’s something in them!” Lavender said loudly.

Harry had been close and at her scream, dashed over.  He bent over and looked where she was pointing.  “Oh, hi there,” he hissed.  He reached into the pot and slowly withdrew his hand, holding a small smooth snake.  The snake was sitting comfortably in his hand, looking up at him calmly, its tongue flicking in and out.

“She won’t bite you,” he said to Lavender.  He realized that everyone in the greenhouse was staring at him.  “Is everything okay?”

“He’s talking to a snake!” Zacharias gasped.  “He’s a Parselmouth!”

“I’m a what?” Harry asked, growing more confused.  He took a small step back, feeling the stares from everyone and feeling even more insecure from it.

“A Parselmouth,” Parvati said.  She was one of the few that looked completely unbothered.  “It means you can talk to snakes.”  She looked at the others who were staring at Harry with distrust.  “What?  What’s the problem?”

“Only Dark Wizards can talk to snakes,” Seamus said scathingly, glaring at Harry.

“What?!  That’s stupid,” Parvati laughed.  “There’s plenty of Parselmouths in India and Asia and most of them aren’t Dark.”

“That’s quite right,” Sprout said.  She had been shocked to see Harry do what he did but was glad for Parvati’s intervention.  “It is a rare…ability here in the United Kingdom but it is more prevalent worldwide.  Admittedly, it has a less than savory connotation here, but that means little in the grand scheme of things.”

She smiled gently at Harry.  “And is our little friend there, okay?”

Harry nodded slowly.  “She was looking for somewhere warm for the coming autumn and winter.”

“Well, in that case, I have a greenhouse that has a bit of a pest problem.  If she would like to live there, I would be grateful for her assistance.  Come along with me, Mister Potter, and let us take her there.”  She gently rested a hand on his shoulder and took him with her.

When they left, Seamus turned to Ron and Dean.  “I knew there’s something wrong with him!  I just knew it!”

“Shut up Seamus,” Lavender said angrily.  “You heard Parvati, Parselmouths aren’t Dark!”

“In India and we aren’t in bloody India, are we?” Seamus retorted.  “Every Parselmouth in Britain is Dark and always has been.”

Hermione snorted.  “I sincerely doubt that.”

“You doubt anything you don’t read about first,” Zacharias sneered.  “That’s right, we’ve heard about you too.”

“Well of course not,” Hermione said back, face bright red.  “Where else am I going to get accurate information, you?”

Half the class laughed appreciatively at that and the Hufflepuff boy seethed.  “I’m not going to take any cheek from a jumped-up Mud-Muggleborn like you!”

“No, but you are going to take a punishment from me.”  Sprout’s voice made everyone jump and they saw a very displeased Sprout standing there with Harry looking small by her side.  “I am ashamed someone from my House would say something so rude and I do know what else you were implying, Mister Smith, and if you actually had said that we would be having an entirely different conversation right now!”

Everyone’s eyes opened wide.  Sprout almost never raised her voice or said anything sharply and for her to do so right now was an awe-inspiring sight. 

“You will stay after the end of class,” she said severely and Smith deflated, nodding glumly.  “The rest of you, let us finish the lesson, shall we?  In fact, let us learn how to remove certain guests from a garden or greenhouse.  While Mister Potter’s talents are not commonly shared, everyone can learn how to safely remove a snake without injuring anyone involved.”

“Are you okay?” Lavender whispered when Harry rejoined them.  His silent nod did not dissuade her but she did not press further.  When class ended, they left in groups.  Ron, Dean, and Seamus left first, followed by the other Hufflepuffs save for Smith who was wilting under the barrage of scolding from Sprout.  When their group left, she reached out and took Harry’s hand.  “Hey, are you okay?”

“I guess,” Harry said weakly.  “I didn’t even know I could do that really.”

“Really?” Hermione asked.

“I mean, I remembered times when I ran into snakes while in the garden back in Surrey and they always seemed kinda nice to me.  They never bit me and I was able to get them to hide when the Dursleys were stomping around.  Dudley would hurt them if he could.”  He shrugged limply.  “Makes sense now, thinking about it.”

“Don’t listen to them, Harry,” Parvati said firmly.  “Like I said, Parselmouths are not evil.  There are so many in India and Asia.  I don’t know why people think that here.”

“You-Know-Who,” Neville whispered, shuddering slightly.  “He was one.”

“Oh,” Parvati said softly.

“I think Salazar Slytherin was one,” Hermione added.  “Probably why his House symbol is a snake.”

“What if I’m Dark?” Harry asked, looking distressed.

“Harry, you’re not Dark,” Lavender said stoutly, squeezing his hand.  “You are way too kind and nice to be Dark.  And I bet no one Dark could ever make good food and sweets like you do.”

He smiled for the first time since finding the snake.  “You think so?”

“Yeah, I bet Dark chefs cook things all burnt and terrible,” Parvati said.  “Or want it to taste bad.”

“You care about people,” Hermione said shyly.  “Even I can see it.  I don’t think you’re Dark.”

“I honestly wish I could speak to snakes sometimes,” Neville said with a very small smile.  “I’d love to chat to the ones in my gardens and greenhouses at home.”

“Thanks guys,” Harry said, feeling much better.  “I really appreciate it.”

-0-

Remus looked about the classroom with slight confusion.  The energy was a bit subdued when he started, at first he thought it was out of respect for him having just returned from his ‘sick leave’.  As the class progressed, he realized that there was another reason.  Half of the class kept shooting looks at Harry who looked embarrassed and withdrawn while Lavender and Parvati were glaring back at the others openly.

“Alright,” he said towards the end of the lesson.  “Are there any questions?”  Hands shot up.  He smiled a little.  “Related to the lesson?”  Most of the hands went down.  “Miss Brown?”

“Well, it’s not entirely related to the lesson about Curses,” Lavender began.  “But it’s related to the class in general.”

Remus’ smile grew.  “Very well then, go on.”

“Does being a Parselmouth make you a Dark witch or wizard?” she asked boldly.

Remus’ eyebrows rose.  “Not at all.  It is an ability just like many others.”

Lavender smiled victoriously, glaring at Seamus.

“But Dark wizards are Parselmouths!” Seamus spat back.

“You are operating under a false equivalence,” Remus said.  He rubbed his chin when Seamus, and many others, shared a blank look.  “Allow me to try and explain.  If you are referring to the Dark wizards of Wizarding Britain, then yes, a fair amount of the most prominent were Parselmouths.  That being said, not all Parselmouths were, or are, Dark.  Healer Methuselah, one of the founders of Saint Mungo’s Hospital, was a Parselmouth and it was through his efforts that most of the modern anti-venom potions have been created.”

He looked right at Seamus.  “Legend has it that Saint Patrick was a wizard and well, since he was so celebrated by ridding Ireland of snakes, one can imagine an ability to make that easier.”

“Not to mention all the Parselmouths all around the world, right Professor?” Padma asked.  Parvati had hissed an explanation to Padma and Padma joined in glaring at a rapidly wilting Seamus. 

“Precisely.  Just because it is rare here, it does not mean it is rare elsewhere.  I’m sure you and your sister have heard of many stories regarding Parselmouths in India and Asia.  In my travels I have worked with more than a few and have had good interactions with them.”  Remus tried to help Seamus save some face.  “But if you aren’t aware, then that is probably why you misunderstood the situation.”

“What do we have more of that other parts of the world don’t?” Ron asked, shooting Seamus a look first, then Harry.

Ignorance, Remus thought sourly with a wry chuckle.  “Wizarding Britain has some very fine enchanters and a larger percentage of transfiguration masters.  We also have a large amount of Curse Breakers and a good amount of traveling working magicals are ours as well.  Any other questions?  No?  Then off you lot go then.  Essay is due next class period.”

He waited for the majority of the students to gather their things, conversing in low tones.  “Mister Potter, a moment of your time please?”  He watched as Harry finished gathering his things and waved while his friends left.  “Everything okay?” Remus asked kindly after the last student left.

Harry shrugged.  “I guess.  Turns out I’m a Parselmouth.”

“Ah I see now.”  Remus tried to look encouraging.  “There’s nothing wrong with being one Harry.  It is a skill just like many others.  As long as you do not use it for ill of course.”

“I didn’t even know I was one technically until I found a snake in Herbology.  She was cold and a little scared but was happy at the end.  She lives in Greenhouse One now.”

“That’s good.  Don’t worry Harry.  Unfortunately, Wizarding Britain is a bit…narrow minded on some things.  Yes, Parselmouths have a bit of a poor reputation here due to some bad individuals, but do not regret the skill.  You will always have to deal with people misunderstanding you and choosing to believe the lie over the truth, but they do not define you.  You define you.”

Harry looked up at him, feeling better.  “Thank you, Sir,” he said sincerely.  “You sound like you have experience with that.”

“Just a bit,” Remus said lightly.  He coughed and rapidly changed the subject.  “Thank you so much for the dumplings the other day, they were delicious.  I very much enjoyed them.”

“I’m glad!”

“In fact, just like the ones I had when I was in China a few years ago,” Remus smiled.  “And I am not just saying that to butter you up.”

“Thank you,” Harry beamed, cheeks pink and smile wide.  “It was Sue Li’s family recipe but I’m glad it worked well.”

“You have a gift, Harry.”

“Did…were my parents good cooks?” Harry asked nervously.  He gaped when Remus laughed loudly.

“James was absolutely terrible!  We used to joke and say he made candy taste worse by simply opening the packaging,” Remus laughed heartily.  “We proved it too!  We did a study in Gryffindor tower where we gave people opened candy and everyone said the ones he touched were noticeably worse!”

“Oh no,” Harry laughed.

“Your mother, she said she knew how to make some things and the first time she brought us biscuits she made, the only person that kept eating them was James because at that point, he was so desperate to get on her good side.”  Remus wiped his eyes and grinned.  “She eventually had one of the last ones and discovered that she had mixed a few things up but by then, James ate the lion’s share and had to go to the Infirmary for stomach healing!”

“They were that bad?!” Harry gasped.

“Lily got much better,” Remus smiled, reminiscing.  “And the day James was able to pour a cup of tea that tasted like it should was a day of much rejoicing.”  He chuckled and shook his head.  “Like I said, Harry, everyone has skills and the vast majority of them does not dictate if a person is Dark or not.  If they did, your father would have been a Dark poisoner.”

Harry chuckled at that.  “I wonder who I got my cooking from,” he mused softly.

“Your grandmother I would imagine.  I ate at the Potters often and she was a wonderful cook.”  He sighed sadly.  “They, she and your grandfather, passed before you were born unfortunately from illness.  They would have adored you.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Harry said quietly and wistfully.

“Unfortunately, I must let you go,” Remus said regretfully.  “But we will find time soon, I promise.  I have much to catch up from when I fell ill.”  He awkwardly but sincerely patted Harry’s shoulder.  “Chin up, Harry.  Your father once said, ‘idiots repeat what they’ve heard, the intelligent repeat what they learn’.”

“I like that.  Thank you, Sir.  R-Remus,” Harry stammered and left with a wave.

Remus smiled broadly and it was a while before the smile faded.

-0-

“I think I know why you became friends with Potter now,” Draco said without preamble, sitting beside Pansy without asking.

Pansy’s stomach turned a little and she looked at Draco coolly.  “Do you now?”

“Yes and I must admit, I am impressed.  It is just like you to attach yourself to someone for a reason.”

“And what reason is that?” Pansy asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Apparently Potter is a Parselmouth,” Draco said with a complicated expression and a hint of jealousy in his tone.

“Harry’s a Parselmouth?!” Pansy repeated loudly, her eyes wide open.

“Since when do you call him Harry?” Draco asked sourly, glaring at her.

“Since when is it any of your business?” she retorted, souring herself.  “Or have you forgotten what you told me last year?”

“Blast it all, how long are you going to hold that over my head?”  He looked disgusted and turned his head away.  “And you truly did not know?”

“No, I didn’t.  Not that it would ever come up in conversation typically.”  She looked at him closely.  “How do you know?”

“Rumors going about.  He sicced a snake on Finnegan and Smith,” Draco said.  “I can almost believe that.”

“I can’t.  He’d never,” Pansy said.

“You are awfully close to him,” Draco said, suspicious.

“Like you said when I have no say of who you interact with, I’ll remind you of the same,” she said snidely.  “Never you mind if we’re close or not.”

“I thought we were friends,” Draco hissed.

“Funny, so did I,” Pansy replied.

They stared at each other for long moments.

“Well if you did not know, I might not believe the rumors then,” Draco said at last.  “Then again, it’s not like he would trust you with his secrets.  Why would he?  He barely knows you.”

Pansy looked uncomfortable.  “You’re right,” she said without heat.  “Why would he?”

“That’s what I thought,” Draco snorted and got to his feet.

Pansy looked up.  “How’s Dobby?”

He paused and looked at her.  “Our House Elf?  How would I know?  Why would I care?  Actually, why would you care?”

“He gave me a treat at the Winter Soiree,” she said truthfully.  “I thought it was nice of him.”

“Nice of him to do his duty?  You have been hanging out with the wrong sort for too long.”  Draco shook his head pityingly.  “He’s alive as far as I know,” he said, walking away.

Pansy looked down at her book but was not reading the words.  Her insides coiled and cramped.  Knowledge that Harry Potter of all people being a Parselmouth concerned her as well as Draco’s parting remarks of why Harry would trust her gnawed at her.  That and the attitude Draco had about learning how close she was with Harry made her feel conflicting emotions.

Millicent looked up when Pansy walked into their dorm room.  “Hey, what’s up?”

Pansy sat on Millicent’s bed and moved her book when Sunny flopped over her lap.  “Apparently Harry’s a Parselmouth.”

“No way, really?  Where’d you hear that?”

“Draco.  The rumor is going around the school.  Harry apparently set a snake on Finnegan and Smith.”

“Well I doubt that for many reasons.  First Draco said it, and we both know Harry wouldn’t sic a snake on anyone.”

“That is what I said.  Draco took offense.”

“At refuting him or that you’d know?”

“Both, I think.”

Millicent grunted.  “Then again, it might be true because Draco wouldn’t think being a Parselmouth is a bad thing, especially if he sounded jealous.”

Pansy smirked just a little.  “He did sound jealous come to think of it.”

“I guess we can ask Harry later in club.”

Pansy nodded.  She hesitated again.  “I confirmed that Dobby is a Malfoy elf.”

“Hmm.  Do you think Draco told Dobby to mess with Harry?”

“Yes, if he thought of it.  But he doesn’t think of House Elves at all.  And we both know that Dobby has no problems ignoring Draco’s wilder commands.”

“Then…I don’t think Lord Malfoy would do that,” Millicent said uneasily.

“Me neither,” Pansy said.  “Is there a chance that Harry had the name wrong?”

“Possibly.  Some of the Elves have awfully similar names.  I don’t think we should say anything right now still.  It might cause trouble we can’t avoid.”

“At least until we have more concrete proof,” Pansy said softly.  “Makes sense.”

-0-

Pansy blinked a few times.  “How did you not know you were a Parselmouth?”

Harry shrugged weakly as he stirred the soup on the stove.  “I didn’t know.”

“You were speaking to snakes!”

“No one was around me when I did it before!  I didn’t know I was speaking a different language!”

“And you assumed that the snakes you met could speak English then?  Or understand it?”

“Hedwig understands English perfectly,” Harry said with utter confidence.

“That’s not a fair comparison.  Hedwig is really smart,” Lavender smiled.

“An owl and a snake are not the same,” Pansy smiled wryly.  “Are there other equivalents to other animals?  An owlmouth?”

“You mean a beak?” Harry asked.  He snickered when Pansy poked him in the side irritably.

Flitwick chuckled too.  “I am not sure actually.  I will look that up for next time.  I imagine there certainly could be ones that could speak to cats and dogs at the least.”

“Parrots can speak to people,” Luna said.  “They learn English from people though so I’m not entirely sure that counts.”

“My grandmother has a crow that’s ridiculously smart,” Sue said.  “It doesn’t speak English or Chinese but you know when she’s making fun of you.”

“Oh like Hedwig then,” Parvati said and everyone who has met Hedwig personally laughed.

Harry smiled proudly as he continued to stir the pot of soup.  His smile faded a little as he leaned forward towards the stove.

“What’s wrong?” Pansy asked, standing beside him.

“I hear something,” Harry said slowly, listening closely.

“What?” she asked.

“Something I’ve heard before-“ Harry suddenly grabbed Pansy and turned away from the stove.  “Watch out!”

The top of the stove exploded.  A plume of fire rocketed towards the ceiling and the pot of soup went flying, sending the contents all over and the lid and pot shot out like projectiles.  Pansy screamed as Harry put himself between her and the stove, falling over.  He grunted when hit by the lid and hot soup splashed over him.

Flitwick jumped up and slashed with his wand, creating a shield to keep the fire contained.  He incanted swiftly and drew a symbol and a heavy gout of thick bubbling foam suffocated the flames, putting them out.  A third slash pushed the stove away and it went still.

“Harry!” Lavender screamed at the same time Millicent shouted “Pansy!”  They ran to their friends and Lavender dabbed at Harry, trying to wipe the scalding soup away.

“I’m okay,” Harry groaned, hissing lightly in pain.  “Pansy, are you okay?”

Pansy checked herself, not a drop of soup fell on her and she was not hit by the lid nor the pot.  “I’m…I’m okay,” she said.  She breathed hard; eyes wide open.  “You…you protected me.”

“Uh, yeah, sorry I pushed you about a bit,” he said sheepishly.

“I don’t care about that,” she snapped.  “Why did you protect me?  Why did you put yourself between me and harm?!”

“You’re my friend,” Harry said.  “Why wouldn’t I?”

Pansy stared at him, slack jawed.

Flitwick came over and looked over Harry’s injuries.  “That’s a nasty burn,” he said grimly.  “And that lid hit you very hard.  Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’ve been burned before,” Harry said, seemingly unperturbed.  “And hit by a flying object before.”  He colored when everyone stared at him.  “What?”

“Hold that thought,” Flitwick muttered.  “Inky!” 

Inky appeared with a loud crack and she gasped in dismay at the mess before noticing Harry.  “Harry is hurt!”  She looked at the stove and she growled audibly.

“Fetch Madam Pomfrey if you please,” Flitwick said hurriedly.

Inky nodded and disappeared with another loud crack.  Moments later, she came back but not alone.  Pomfrey swayed slightly from the trip holding her bag.  She came striding over to Harry while Inky and a few House Elves, Ebbers and Quarters included, went to the stove.

“Right, what happened?” Pomfrey asked professionally as she cast a Diagnostic Charm over Harry.

“I heard a weird sound from the stove and it sounded like it was going to burst over like there was too much gas,” Harry said as he watched her move her wand over him.  “I’ve seen it before.  I pulled Pansy away and the hobs exploded.  Got splashed a bit and hit with the lid I think that was on the hob beside the pot.”

“This is only ‘splashed a bit’?” Pomfrey asked sardonically.  “That’s a rather severe burn.  Are you trying to appear tough for the ladies?” she asked impishly, making the others giggle and laugh.

Harry snorted.  “Not really.  It’s easy to get burned in the kitchen, and cut.  I’m used to it.”

She blinked at him.  “And the rather large and heavy bruise that you’re developing from the lid?”

He shrugged and regretted the gesture, wincing from pain.  “Used to it,” he said again, quietly.

“Hmm well I for one will not indulge your machismo and heal you up properly,” she said, her severe tone belied by her gentle touch.  Harry sighed with relief when her healing charms helped the bruise disappear.  She started to apply a cream to his burn.

“Sabotage!” Inky shouted, drawing everyone’s attention.  “Bad Elf magic!”

“What’s that?” Flitwick asked, all jocularity and concern gone, growing serious.

“Someone has interfered with the stove,” Ebbers said severely.  “Another Elf, we can tell!”

“That is very serious,” Flitwick said.  “Someone fetch the Headmaster.”

Inky popped away and within moments Dumbledore appeared with her.  He too looked incredibly serious, after checking on the wellbeing of his students.  “Someone has sabotaged the stove?” he asked.

Ebbers nodded.  “Another Elf!  Not a Hogwarts Elf.”

“They wanted to hurt our Harry!” Inky shrieked and the assembled elves growled angrily.

“You think?!” Lavender gasped, looking at Harry with frightened eyes.

“Unfortunately, I would agree.  Out of all of us, he is the one most likely to be near the stove consistently,” Flitwick said.

“Perhaps the Elf is still near.  Search the castle,” Dumbledore ordered.

“We will run them to the ground,” Quarters growled and shook his swagger stick.  They all popped away.

Pansy’s thoughts were in turmoil.  She kept staring at Harry and hearing his words in her head, his words fighting with the words she had heard elsewhere.  Her heart ached and after long moments of chaos, a single thought rose to the surface in her mind.  “Dobby is a Malfoy elf,” she said out loud.

She flushed when everyone looked at her.  “I checked.  Dobby belongs to the Malfoys.”

“Wasn’t Dobby the name of the elf that messed with you during the summer?” Parvati gasped.  “The one that stole your post and smashed your cake?”

“And maybe kept me from getting on the platform,” Harry said, connecting the dots.

Dumbledore looked at Pansy.  “That is a very serious accusation.  You are sure?”

“Yes Headmaster,” Pansy said.  “If this Dobby is the one bothering Harry,” she gulped, “trying to hurt Harry, then it’s the Malfoy’s elf.”

“I’m pretty sure the Malfoy elf is called Dobby too,” Millicent said shyly.  “Pansy would know more but I’m pretty sure.”

“And you are sure he named himself Dobby?” Dumbledore asked Harry.

“Yes Sir, as far as I recall,” Harry said.

Dumbledore stroked his beard slowly.  “I know of your…somewhat poor interactions with Mister Malfoy, but we cannot make accusations so blithely.  No offense, but a school children rivalry would not be considered sufficient motive.”

“He did say that he did things without his masters knowing,” Harry said honestly.  “Dobby that is.”

“Which makes the situation all the stranger,” Dumbledore mused.  “I thank you all for this information.  It will prove invaluable.  We must take proper precautions for the moment.”

Harry looked at the stove sadly.  “I liked that stove.”

Dumbledore smiled.  “That’s right Harry.  Stiff upper lip and proper grit is always welcome, as is implacable practicality.”  He chuckled at Harry’s look of confusion and Pomfrey’s groan.  “I think it is best for us to relocate the clubroom and it can resume once some proper protections are made.”

“We can still have club?” Lavender asked, smiling with relief.

“Of course.  I will not stop it without a very strong reason to and I believe that Professor Flitwick and I, not to mention the House Elves, can make proper protections.  Madam Pomfrey, does Harry need to go to the Infirmary?”

“No, I don’t think so.  I can feel how twitchy he is to not go.  Apparently this sort of injury is old hat.”  She gave a look to Dumbledore who nodded slightly.  “You will see me in the morning, Mister Potter, and take this vial of cream to apply before bed.  Should you not come, I will come hunting for you.  Am I clear?”

“Crystal,” Harry gulped.

Inky, Ebbers, and Quarters popped back into the room.  “The blaggard isn’t here,” Quarters grumbled.  “Others are still searching but the trail's cold.”

Dumbledore nodded.  “Thank you for your efforts.  Now that we are aware of the threat, we can try and be more watchful for it.  Would you three escort the children to the kitchen and give them supper?  I think they usually skip dinner for the club and since theirs has been ruined, they need to eat.  Then take them back to their common rooms.”

“Thank you, Headmaster,” the students chorused.

“Of course.  Do not tarry and I would heed Madam Pomfrey, Harry, about tomorrow morning.”  He smiled at Harry’s nervous look that grew more nervous at Pomfrey’s feral smile.  His smile faded when the students left with the House Elves.  “A curious situation, and concerning.”

“Why would a House Elf be harassing Harry?” Flitwick asked.  “Even one from the Malfoys?”

“Apparently the Elf in question warned Harry about a danger at the school this year,” Dumbledore said. 

“Of course he didn’t say what kind of danger,” Pomfrey sighed.  “Or did he?”

“He did not,” Dumbledore confirmed. 

“Is this enough to go after the Malfoys?” Pomfrey asked.

“Not nearly enough evidence,” Dumbledore said.  “Lucius is not one to take any slight, perceived or actual, well and I do not want to start a fight unless it is worth fighting and I am well equipped.”

“Then we will watch and gather said evidence,” Flitwick said coolly but his eyes burned.  “I do not like it when my students are threatened, much less ones I am fond of.”

“Me neither,” Dumbledore said quietly but emphatically.  He sighed and shook his head.  “And you were saying, Poppy?”

“I checked Mister Potter over and it is as he said.  He does have evidence of past burns on his hands and arms and leg even.  As well as scars from a knife.  I found some when I treated him at the end of last year but looked more in-depth this time around.”

“Hazards of the kitchen,” Dumbledore said.  “Acceptable ones generally.”

“Sure, but he does have evidence of impacts like he said and you cannot tell me those are generally accepted hazards of a kitchen,” she said sharply.  “And if so, I demand to have those kitchens closed.”

“I have noticed some…peculiarities,” Flitwick said softly.  “With his behavior and habits.”

Dumbledore’s sigh was even deeper.  “As have I.  I have not broached the issue with Harry yet because I do not want him to hide and shy away.  He is remarkably resilient and mature in many ways.”

“Too mature,” Pomfrey sniffed.

“I agree,” Flitwick said.

“Perhaps this incident has a silver lining,” Dumbledore said.  “We can pay more attention to Harry and provide assistance when able as well as catch this rogue elf and see what is going on.  He seems close to you Filius and I think he and Remus are developing a fine rapport.  Perhaps in time, he will trust us more and we can respond accordingly.”

“I suppose that must do,” Pomfrey sighed.  “Even if it takes too long for my tastes.”

“Not all of us are able to bull our way through and damn the consequences quite like you,” Dumbledore chuckled.

“Damn straight,” Pomfrey snorted, making Flitwick and Dumbledore laugh.  “And don’t you forget it.”

-0-

After being thoroughly stuffed by the kitchen House Elves with good food and treats, they were lined up and ready to leave the kitchens to be escorted back to their common rooms. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Luna sniffled a little, looking up at Harry.

“Me too, don’t worry Luna,” he replied, touched.  He patted her shoulder a little awkwardly and grinned when she repeated the gesture.  He watched the Ravenclaws leave, following Ebbers. 

“Harry, thank you for protecting me,” Pansy said quietly.  “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me.”

“I didn’t get hurt because of you, you didn’t do it to me,” Harry said back.  “I don’t regret it though.  You’re my friend.”  He dithered a little at her blank look.  “We’re friends…right?”

“Y-yes,” Pansy stammered.  “We’re friends.”

“And thanks for telling us about Dobby.  Not sure what we can do with the info right now, but it’s good to know.”

“You’re welcome.”  She raised her chin.  “It’s what friends do.”  She waved to the Gryffindors and left with Millicent, following a grumbling Quarters who was looking left and right, hitting the palm of his other hand with the head of his swagger stick grumpily.

“I can’t believe Dobby would do that,” Millicent whispered.  “He never seemed the type.”

“Me neither,” Pansy whispered back.  “But we don’t really know him, do we?”

“No, we don’t.”  They walked in silence for a bit.  “Do you regret telling the Headmaster?”

“I don’t,” Pansy said quietly and was surprised that she meant it completely.  “Harry has proven himself to be a good friend and…he did protect me.  I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“You know what, neither do I,” Millicent said softly.

“It’s…” Pansy’s voice faltered a little, “it’s just a little confusing right now.”

“Yeah it is,” Millicent said comfortingly. 

They thanked Quarters belatedly as they entered their common room and the House Elf waved his stick absent-mindedly before he popped away.  The girls walked through the room, stopping to watch Draco boast to a crowd of students.  He turned his face away when he saw them, talking louder.

“I don’t think I regret it at all,” Pansy whispered as they walked to their dorm room.

“Yeah, neither do I,” Millicent whispered back.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

21^st Course – Secrets Come to Light

“The new clubroom looks wonderful,” Harry said, looking about.

They moved the clubroom to a different unused classroom, one somewhat closer to Flitwick's office.  Dumbledore, Flitwick, and Remus went over it carefully, putting in some extra protections via wards and charms.  The House Elves, still vexed having not caught the saboteur, put their own magic in place so they could be warned if any non-Hogwarts elf tried to interfere with the room.  They also repaired the oven and after making it thoroughly safe, installed it into the new clubroom along with the icebox and other things.

Permanent cabinets were put in as well to hold things as well as a wardrobe for fabrics and other materials.  Bookshelves were put in for books and magazines and it felt like a cozy nice clubroom for the Household Charms club.

“I’m pleased my ownself,” Flitwick said, rubbing his hands together.  “The Household Charms club never had its own room before so it was very satisfying to make this one a permanent home.  Not to mention you know I enjoy casting magic I normally don’t get to, so the protection spells were quite fun.”

“Sorry for all the trouble,” Harry said weakly.  “I feel responsible.”

“You shouldn’t,” Flitwick said flatly.  “You were the victim in this, Harry, not the cause.  Even if it did not happen, I feel better that my students will be protected.”  He smiled brightly.  “Now, that is no excuse to be any less careful, do you hear me?”

“Yes Sir,” Harry chuckled.  “I do appreciate it.”

“It is all finished now and we can enjoy it properly.”  He hesitated for a moment.  “And you are still going to be on your own for Halloween?”

“If that’s okay.”

“You have my permission, the Headmaster’s, and Professor McGonagall, as last year.”  He hummed softly.  “Are you sure you do not want someone to be with you?”

“Not this time, but I appreciate you asking Sir,” Harry said softly.  “I…well…”

Flitwick patted his shoulder.  “No need to explain if you are having trouble to.  You have not given me any cause to distrust you, Harry, and I will wait to be shared with if you ever choose to.”

“Thank you,” Harry half-whispered.  “It’s hard.”

“I understand,” Flitwick said sympathetically.  “Just know that you are not alone.”

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

-0-

“No, I don’t know what Harry would be doing,” Remus said in a slightly worried tone.  “He hasn’t mentioned it to me.”

“Hmm, well, he seemed fine more or less last year at this time regardless,” Flitwick murmured.  “I was just wondering if you had any insight.”

“I wish I did,” Remus sighed.  “Perhaps if I hadn’t been so withdrawn from the world up to now, I might.”

“Perhaps, but there’s no use in lamenting what can’t be changed,” Flitwick said prosaically.  “Focus more on what can be changed, for the better.”

“Yes.  I’ll be doing that more,” Remus said quietly.

-0-

The Halloween Feast was in full swing.  This year the floating jack-o’-lanterns flew about and sang Halloween songs and had ridiculous conversations with one another.  They then had a spirited game of bowling, floating above the students.  Impacts with bone pins sent showers of candy all over the delighted students and the air was full of funny noises, laughter, and conversation.

Lavender caught some when a rather ponderous pumpkin exploded messily, showering the Gryffindors with lights and treats.  She looked through the handful and dropped some in a draw-string bag.

“Here, take this one too,” Parvati said and handed one over.

“I don’t think Harry would want one of these,” she laughed, holding the Bloody Sucker blood-flavored lollipop. 

“We don’t know until we ask,” Parvati giggled.

“Fine but I’m warning him before he tries it,” Lavender said, dropping the candy into the bag.

“Harry didn’t want to come tonight?” Hermione asked softly.

“No,” Lavender sighed.  “He seemed okay more or less, like last year, but still didn’t feel up to it.”

“I wonder what he’s doing instead,” Neville said.

“He’ll tell us one day,” Lavender said stoutly.  “Maybe,” she said, a little uncertain.

“I think so, he’s been opening up to us more,” Parvati said. 

“Yeah, he has, hasn’t he,” Lavender said brightly.  She opened the bag so Hermione and Neville could make their own contributions to it.  They continued to munch on some sweets, laughing when a bunch of pumpkins began singing a very lively song. 

The doors to the Great Hall opened and Snape came striding in.  He ignored all that was going on, heading for the Head table.  He bent over to whisper in Dumbledore’s ear and even from a distance, you could see concern replacing amusement on Dumbledore’s face.

“I wonder what that’s about,” Parvati remarked.

Lavender chewed on her bite of cake, hoping it did not involve Harry.

-0-

“Harry!”

Harry blinked with surprise.  He had just gotten back to the common room, escorted by Inky, and was surprised to see his friends sitting there waiting for him.  “Hi everyone, what’s wrong?  Are you all okay?”

“We’re fine, but are you?” Lavender asked, eyes radiating worry.

“I’m fine, what happened?” Harry asked, concerned.

“The Feast ended a bit early,” Neville said.  “Someone did some vandalism in one of the hallways.  Wrote on the walls with red paint and flooded the corridor.”

“What was written?” Harry asked, interested.

“The Chamber of Secrets has been Reopened.  Enemies of the Heir Beware,” Hermione said.

“That’s ominous and kinda freaky,” Harry shuddered.  “Did they catch whoever wrote it?”

Neville shook his head.  “No and they don’t know who did it.  Dumbledore went to look and when he got back, he dismissed everyone and went to investigate it more.”

“That’s weird,” Harry said.  “Sorry the Feast got cut short for you all.”

“It’s okay, it was coming to a close anyways,” Parvati said airily.  “Anyways, all the common rooms got mini-feasts to make up for it and as you see, everyone’s still in the mood to chat and eat.  So we waited for you.”

Harry smiled, his melancholy from the day fading slightly.  “Aww, thank you.”

“Feel up to sitting with us?” Lavender asked gently.

Harry thought for a moment.  “Sure, I mean, yes please.”  He sat beside her and happily took the bag of candy from her.  “Oh thank you.”

“Everyone put in what we think you’d like,” Lavender said.  She poked Parvati.  “She put in a Bloody Sucker.”

Harry fished it out.  He blanched at how luridly red it was and how the wet interior of the lollipop glistened realistically.  “It’s not real blood, is it?”

“No idea.  My parents would never let us try it.”  Parvati smiled at him.  “Go on then!  Try it!”

“You try it,” Harry laughed, giving it to her.

“No thanks!” she grimaced, sticking her tongue out at it.

“Then why make Harry try it?” Lavender asked, incensed.

“Someone has to,” Parvati said matter-of-factly.

“I’ll save it for now,” Harry grinned.  “Maybe I’ll try it one day.”

“Did you have a nice night?” Hermione asked.

Harry nodded.  “Nice enough.”  He hesitated for a moment.  “I, uh, what I usually do for Halloween is cook something specific.  I’ve done it for years.”  He slowly undid the top of his own draw-string bag and took out a container.  He opened the top and the others took deep whiffs of the deeply savory aroma.

“That smells incredible,” Hermione gasped.

“Do you mind sharing it with the others?” Harry asked Lavender.

“All that was for me?” Lavender asked.  She smiled brightly at Harry’s nod.  “Sure!  I can’t possibly eat that much and I’d hate for it to go to waste.”

“You’ve had it before?  When?!” Parvati asked when Harry went to the table for some cups and spoons.

“Last year, Harry had Inky bring me some,” Lavender said, a trifle smug.

“Boo!  Not fair!” Parvati said.

Harry smiled warmly as he listened to Lavender and Parvati bicker, pouring out the container into four different cups.  He handed them to his four friends and waited with baited breath for their reactions.

“This is the best beef stew I have ever had,” Hermione said, staring down at her cup.  “And I really like beef stew.”

“This is really good,” Neville said as he ate it eagerly.  “I’m full from the feast and I still want to eat it.”

“I can’t believe you had this last year and didn’t share,” Parvati pouted, glaring at Lavender.

“I had a mug and everyone went to bed,” Lavender sniffed.  She beamed at Harry.  “This is delicious Harry!  Better than last year even!”

“You make this every Halloween?” Neville asked.

Harry nodded.  “It was my mother’s favorite,” he said quietly.  The four stopped eating, looking at him.  “It’s one of the few recipes my aunt taught me directly.  She helped me make it the first time.  When I first learned it, I made it all the time.  Too much,” he said ruefully.  “My uncle told me to stop making it.”

He missed the look the others had.  “But I never did obviously.  Just a lot less but I always make it on Halloween for my parents.  It…makes me feel like I’m close to them still, if that makes sense.”

Neville nodded solemnly.  “It does.”

Harry smiled a little.  “Lavender was the first person I made it for that wasn’t my uncle or aunt or cousin.  First person to try it in years actually.”

She sniffled a little at that, incredibly touched.  “Thank you,” she breathed softly.

He smiled bashfully.  “I’m always a little nervous when I cook for others, hoping they like the food.  But this makes me…really nervous.  It’s really important to me.”

“I think it’s one of the best things I’ve ever had,” Parvati said emphatically.  “And I’m not lying.”

“Are you fibbing?” Harry asked.

She laughed.  “Nope, not even fibbing.”

“It’s so good,” Hermione said.  “Thank you for sharing Harry, and Lavender.”

Harry felt much better.  He was surprised how good it made him feel for them to say that and for the first time in an incredibly long time, he felt a sort of relief on Halloween, a warmth that was not physical. 

A kindness.

“Hey, excuse me, where did you get that?  It smells really good.”

They turned and looked at the speaker, a girl with long red hair.  She looked at them with interest.

“Harry made it,” Lavender said.

“You made it?” the girl asked, staring at Harry with a surprised look. 

“That’s right,” Harry said evenly.

“Oh wow.  So it’s not from the Feast?”  The girl looked disappointed when the they shook their heads.  “Okay.  Thanks then.”  She gave them another look before walking away.

“Who’s that again?” Parvati asked quietly.

“Ginny, Ron’s little sister,” Neville said.  “And her other brothers of course.”

“I wonder how much they’ve told her,” Lavender sniffed.

“Has Ron treated you any better?” Hermione asked.

“We don’t interact still really,” Harry said.  He noticed Ron looking their way with Ginny arguing with the twins alongside. 

“He still doesn’t go against Seamus when he’s spouting off,” Lavender said coolly.

“I don’t need him to, I’ve got you and the others,” Harry said happily.

“Damn straight,” Lavender and Parvati said with Hermione and Neville nodding in quiet agreement.

-0-

Dumbledore stared up at the red letters on the wall.  Just reading the words: ‘Chamber of Secrets’ made his skin crawl as well as made him feel a tinge of regret for what happened in the past.  The water on the floor had been drained by now but the red letters had so far proven resistant to a bevy of simple charms.

“The castle is clear of intruders,” Remus said as he and a few others approached.  “As far as we know.”

“Hmm, I thought as much.  It was a good time to do this,” Dumbledore mused.  “With the Feast going on and our attentions focused elsewhere.”

“The lettering is made up of magical paint and ink mixed with blood,” Snape said, making some of them blanch.  “Hence why it is proving to be difficult to remove.”

“What kind of blood?” Flitwick asked, face twisted.

“Chicken,” Snape said. 

“Chicken?”  Remus rubbed his chin.  “Precious few rituals I can think of would require chicken blood.  It’s not very magically powerful.  Not to mention you need a lot of chickens to provide enough blood needed.”

“The percentage of blood to paint and ink is on the low side,” Snape confirmed. 

“Why paint and ink?” Flitwick wondered. 

“We shall seal off this portion of the corridor,” Dumbledore said.  “I will draw a privacy line and leave a small clear part of the hall for passage.  I already sent a message to the Aurors and some are on their way to do an investigation.”

“Hopefully they find a more satisfactory conclusion than ‘we don’t know’ this time,” McGonagall said frostily.

“Hopefully,” Dumbledore said plainly.  “This worries me, if I may be frank.  The last time the Chamber was opened, a student died.”

“Do you think it is possible?” Flitwick gasped.  “That it has been opened again?”

“The original culprit was never caught,” Dumbledore murmured.  “And I never believed Hagrid was responsible for it.”

“We will try our best to prevent that from happening again,” Remus said quietly.

“I have faith,” Dumbledore said, a trace of warmth returning to his tone.  “Like a friend would say, constant vigilance.”

McGonagall snorted.  “If we feel the need to call him, we would be in dire straits.” 

“I will if I feel the need to, however,” Dumbledore said seriously.

-0-

The atmosphere in the coming days was tense.  The words written on the wall, though cordoned off and hidden from the students, were all they talked about for a while and so many people had their own theories on what the Chamber of Secrets was, why it was not a good thing, and who the Heir of Slytherin was.

“According to Hogwarts, A History, the Chamber of Secrets was a room created by Salazar Slytherin,” Hermione said.  “And in it resided something that only he could control and it was something of a last resort.”

“That’s not ominous at all,” Sue shuddered.  “What a mad bloke.  Oh, sorry,” she said sheepishly, looking at Millicent and Pansy.

While not an official club time, they had gathered in the clubroom to study together and spend time together.  Flitwick was fairly confident in the protections of the new room and with the Elves being vigilant if needed, he had allowed them to congregate there.

“No need to apologize,” Millicent said, waving a hand.  “I’m not related to him as far as I know.  If that’s true, I’d say he was mad too.”

“You’re not upset, even though you’re Slytherins?” Neville asked.

“Words of spells and incantations are the words to concern yourself most,” Pansy said snootily.  She shrugged.  “Most of the time anyways.  Millie is right.  Slytherin is so far removed from us, we don’t care if people think him mad.  We take pride in the ideals of our House, not our Founder.”

“Drat, I was hoping since you were Slytherins, you’d know what was in the Chamber or where it was,” Parvati said glumly.  “Or who the heir is.”

“None of us do,” Pansy said.  “It’s been a popular topic of discussion lately though.”  She frowned slightly.  Draco had boasted that he knew who the heir was as well as knowing other things, but while a few believed him, others did not when he demurred when asked.  He was clearly trying to brag and draw attention, but Pansy did not know what to think.

“I hope they find out soon,” Padma said.  “Apparently the last time the Chamber was opened, a person died.”

They all shuddered at that.

“The Headmaster has been doing a lot,” Harry said.  “He’s had the grounds checked and he’s patrolled with the other professors.  Aurors have been checking things too.”

“That’s a relief,” Lavender sighed.

“How do you know that?” Hermione asked.

“He talked to me the other day, asking me if I heard anything on Halloween night since I wasn’t in the Great Hall.  He told me after I said I didn’t.”

“Guess we don’t have much to worry about then,” Neville said nervously.

“What are you making, Harry?” Luna asked brightly.  She had remained quiet while they talked, drawing in a notebook. 

“They’re called eggy in a basket,” Harry said, gently flipping the piece of bread with an egg in the middle in the pan.

“That’s an adorable name,” Pansy said.

“They’re simple but really good,” Harry said.  He lifted the crisp bread and cooked egg out of the pan and put it on a plate.  The yellow yolk was sunny bright and set, the whites completely cooked.  The bread was golden brown and he delicately placed the round piece of bread that was cut out and grilled separately on top.  A sprinkle of white salt and black pepper finished it off and he put the plate in front of a delighted Luna.  “You can top it with sauce if you like.”

“You’re made of stern stuff,” Millicent remarked as Harry kept cooking, serving the finished baskets as soon as they were ready. 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Barely a couple of weeks ago you had a stove explode in your face and you were hit and burned,” she said seriously.

“Oh that.”  Harry shrugged.  “You get used to burns and stuff when you cook a lot.  Besides, if you like it enough, it’s easy to keep at it and come back to it I suppose.”

“That’s why I’m still friends with Pansy,” Millicent said and the others chuckled.  She smiled cheekily at Pansy’s glare.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Pansy asked sourly.

“You know, don’t be coy,” Millicent smiled.

“You’re a koi,” Pansy returned.  “All giant mouthed and empty-eyed.”  She opened and closed her mouth slowly, pretending to gulp air and fanning her hands at her neck.

“You’re more fish-like than me,” Millicent said back.  “All cold and floppity.  Say, maybe that’s why Sunny likes you so much.”

“Dang, I need to up my insult game,” Parvati said to general laughter.

“I will destroy you,” Padma muttered.

“You know, I think I know why you don’t care when Sunny sheds all over you, it’s certainly an improvement over your regular wardrobe,” Pansy said sharply with an even sharper smile.  “For someone in the industry, you’d think you’d wear nicer things, instead of the same thing again and again.  Have you no shame?”

Harry was enjoying the byplay between the two girls before he noticed Lavender’s expression.  She had been standing beside him and was waiting for her eggy but had frozen stiff.  Her face was scrunched up and she was looking like she was about to cry.  “Lavender?” he asked softly.  “Are you okay?”  He put the pan aside and turned to her.  “Lavender?”

At his touch she jumped, as if startled.  “Oh!  Uhm, yeah, I mean, I, uh…”   She scrubbed her eyes. 

Harry then remembered what she shared with him last year and felt absolutely wretched.  “Hey, stop it,” he said out loud.

“What?  It’s true!  Millicent used to wear this same thing all the time-“ Pansy began to argue.

“I said stop it,” Harry said firmly, turning to look at everyone.  “Please,” he added in an afterthought when everyone turned to stare at him.  No one had ever heard him speak like that before.

“Lav?  Are you okay?” Parvati said, rushing over.

“I’m okay,” Lavender said insincerely, unable to stop from tearing up.  “It’s okay, really.”

Pansy saw what was going on and she felt her stomach clench.  The look Harry gave her was one she had not seen him wear before, stern and unamused.  Even when he was suffering under the worst of what Draco threw at him, Harry had never looked that unhappy.  And seeing Lavender upset made her feel odd too, which was odd because she never cared before if she looked upset at what she said.  Realizing that she was the cause of both of their expressions, even unwittingly, made her feel strange.  “I wasn’t talking to you-“ she started to say.

“Let’s break things off for now,” Harry said, interrupting her.  “Good thing everyone else got their eggys and we finished our studying.  We can meet another time.” 

After a quick look, the others started cleaning and putting things away.  They dispersed, feeling awkward and anxious and Pansy watched as the Gryffindors left together. 

“I…I didn’t mean to upset anyone,” Pansy said, her voice small and shocked.  “You and I talk like that all the time.  You’ve never been upset at me for saying that, not in many years.”

“I haven’t no, but it looks like it stuck a nerve with them,” Millicent said uneasily.  “Come on, let’s go back to our dorm.”

“What…what is going to happen?” Pansy asked, afraid.

“I don’t know,” Millicent replied.  She gave Pansy a worried look.  Her friend looked incredibly upset and hearing her say that she did not mean to actually upset someone, despite being the target of her barbed words, was a true surprise.  In normal circumstances, she might even praise her friend.

Unfortunately, the circumstances were not normal.

-0-

“Hey Lav?”

Lavender looked up.  Ever since they returned to Gryffindor tower, she had gone straight to her room and flopped into bed.  Hearing Pansy say those words, said so similar in word and tone like the bullies in her past really shook her.  She had thought she had gotten over them but evidently not.  Her emotions raw, she had curled up in bed, trying not to lose herself.

She had mostly succeeded.

“Harry’s asking for you,” Parvati said.  “He wants to know if you’re okay and if you’re willing to come down to the common room.”

A part of her wanted to tell Parvati to say no to Harry.  After some thought, she sniffled and rubbed her eyes.  “Okay, I’ll come down.”

“You don’t have to,” Parvati said.  “Harry also said that.  He also said he’d like to try and help if he could but only if you want.”

“I’ll go,” Lavender said.  With a watery smile she walked down the steps and found Harry waiting for her beside them.  “Hi Harry,” she said weakly.

“Hi.”  He dithered a little.  “Uhm, I think I know how to help a little.  If you like.”

She smiled wanly.  “Sure.”  She followed him to the side of the portrait door, slightly confused.  “What are you doing?”

Harry looked around and when he saw no one was looking, he hurriedly threw the invisibility cloak over the both of them.  Lavender almost squealed with surprise but just managed to stop herself when Harry shushed her.  She gasped when she realized they could see out but no one seemed able to see them.  She kept silent and when Harry took her hand, she followed willingly when someone opened the door and they slipped out behind them.

“What is this?!” she whispered as they walked down the hall.

“It’s an invisibility cloak,” he whispered back.  “Belonged to my dad.  Isn’t it neat?”

“It’s brilliant!” she said, her sorrow temporarily forgotten.  She walked with Harry hand in hand until they reached the clubroom.  When they entered, he took the cloak off and handed it to her.  She ran her fingers over the silky material, exclaiming with wonder at the invisibility qualities.  “This is so cool!”

“Right?!”  Harry turned the stove on and started assembling a few ingredients.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Lavender said belatedly.  “Won’t we get into trouble?”

“Maybe, if we’re caught,” Harry said with a seemingly nonchalant tone.  “But I don’t think we will.  As long as I make a little extra.  Inky will help.  I hope.”

“Oh, I don’t know if it’s worth getting in trouble over,” she fretted.

“If it helps you feel better, it’s worth it,” he said sincerely.

“Oh.”  Something deep in her chest felt warm and the warmth spread.  She carefully folded the cloak and sat at the table, hugging it to her chest.  “Okay.”  She watched him in silence.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a while.

“What for?” Lavender asked, genuinely confused.

“For not stopping them,” Harry sighed.  “I knew you were picked on before for…exactly what Pansy was saying.  But when Millie didn’t seem upset, I didn’t think of it at all.  Not until I saw how upset you were.”

“Oh.  That makes sense,” she said quietly, looking down.

“If it makes you feel any better, I really don’t think Pansy meant to hurt you,” Harry said.

“I…I don’t think so either,” Lavender allowed.  “It’s just, the way she said it, what she said, it was pretty much exactly what they used to say to me every day all day.”  She sniffled again a little.  “And it really got to me.”

“I can understand that,” Harry said softly.  He dropped the holed bread into the pan with a pat of butter and cracked an egg into the middle.  “It’s hard to ignore when it’s all you hear for a while.”

She looked at him.  “Yeah, it is.”  She watched him finish cooking the eggy and she smiled a little when he put it in front of her.

“You didn’t get to eat it earlier,” he said with a small smile.

She cut the egg and bread in half, smiling to see the yolk spill out and get absorbed by the butter fried bread.  The small cut out piece absorbed the golden runny yolk too and when she bit it, it tasted wonderful.  Butter, salt, pepper, bread, and egg, a simple symphony.  “It’s really good,” she smiled.

“Good.”  Harry smiled back and continued to mix things, moving his hands with purpose. 

“My Mum isn’t my mum,” Lavender said all of a sudden.  At Harry’s questioning look, she flushed and swallowed her mouthful of food.  “I mean, she is my Mum but she didn’t give birth to me.  My Daddy raised me from a baby by himself for the longest time.  He was seeing my birth mum and then one day she was gone and after a little while I was…there.”

She rubbed her eyes.  “He did the best he could but we didn’t have a lot of money.  So like I said, when I was teased about clothes when I started school, it got to me because we didn’t have a lot.  I used to wish for all sorts of things and it made me feel bad.  I knew he worked his hardest and there were times we didn’t eat a lot but he tried and never blamed me.”

She felt better when Harry put an arm around her shoulders.  “Later, he met Leena and they dated and fell in love.  At first he was so scared because I was doing things we couldn’t explain.  He cried from relief when Leena said it was accidental magic and she knew because she was a witch.  She explained so much and she fell in love with me and I love her.  I was so happy when they got married and I got a mum.”

She dabbed her eyes.  “My two little sisters are technically my half-sisters but I love them like full sisters.”  She sighed heavily.  “Sometimes, I wish I could be like them and have two parents from the start.”  She paled and looked at him in horror.  “Oh God I am so sorry Harry-“

He hugged her gently.  “Don’t be, I know what you mean.”  He did not flinch when she hugged him hard.  He only let go when she did and he continued to mix the biscuit dough, putting it on the tray and popping the tray into the oven.

He looked at her.  “Does Parvati know?  About your family?”

“I’ve sorta mentioned it in vague terms,” Lavender said weakly.  “But no.  You’re the first person I’ve told actually, in a long time.”

Harry nodded.  He took a deep breath.  “I was like you, just left at my aunt’s doorstep.  That’s what she said anyways.”  He took another deep breath.  “I grew up in a cupboard.”

Lavender was nibbling part of the crust and inhaled swiftly and started coughing.  Harry hurriedly pounded her back and she managed to cough out the crumbs that had lodged in her throat.  “Wait, what?” she sputtered.

He looked horrifically embarrassed but continued.  “I grew up in a cupboard.  For the longest time, that was where I slept.  I didn’t have clothes of my own, toys or anything.  And I had to do chores and if I didn’t do them well, I didn’t get to eat.”

“A cupboard?!  Didn’t get to eat?!” Lavender shouted.  “That’s not right!”

Harry was surprised by her outburst.  “It’s all I knew,” he said lamely.

“That’s…that’s not right!” Lavender repeated angrily. 

“It got better,” he said hurriedly.  “When I started cooking more.  One of the few times I saw something on the telly, I saw how happy people were when they ate something good and one day, I tried my best to make something good.  Something to make the Dursleys smile.  And it worked.  They smiled and were in a good mood and I was allowed to eat the leftovers.”

“Allowed to eat the-“ Lavender cried out.

“And it slowly got better even more,” Harry continued.  “I started cooking all the food and I could save bits and pieces for myself to eat.  And they were happier.  And I thought that was good for me.”  Harry sighed, a deep and heavy sound borne from long years.  “Then one time, a work colleague tried something of Uncle Vernon’s lunch and he invited them to the home for a dinner party, one that I cooked.”

He looked down at his hands, at the small cuts and small burns that were on them and his wrists.  “After that, they entertained more and I was seen more.  I was allowed to live in the Dudley’s second bedroom, I got clothes to wear for when there was company.  I was allowed to watch and read cooking related things, anything that made my cooking better and made them look better.  They let me eat my fill, let me cook a little bit more so I could eat enough.”

“And for a while, that was great,” he said quietly.

Lavender felt something deep in her chest ache and she seethed as she sat there.  “None of that is great,” she half-snarled.  “All of that is terrible!  My Daddy never treated me like that and we barely had anything!  How dare they?!”

“Like I said, it’s all I knew,” Harry repeated.  He looked off into the distance.  “You know what’s usually the first thing they said?  The guests that ate what I cooked.  They would say, ‘You must be so proud of him’, to the Dursleys.  As if they taught me or were responsible for it,” he snorted sourly.  “Or something like ‘what else can he make’, ‘what else can he cook’.  Then they would say it tasted good and they wanted to taste more or eat more and see what else I can do.”

He looked at her fondly.  “But I remember what you said, the first time you ate my cooking.  You only said it tasted good.  And every time you’ve tried something, you only comment on what that is.  You’ve never asked me to do more, or what else.  You’ve liked what I made and enjoyed it right then.”  He smiled shyly.  “That’s why I really like cooking for you.”

“Oh, Harry,” she said softly.  “You’re an amazing cook and I love everything you’ve made.”

He beamed at her.  “I, uh, I didn’t tell you all that like it’s a competition.  It’s not.  I just wanted to share something private with you since you shared something private with me.  I’ve never told anyone that stuff ever either.”

She smiled at that but then her smile fell.  “Oh, when you said you cried in the bathroom at school too…”

He nodded.  “Dudley and his friends would do it.  At first they would beat me up but they stopped when my aunt and uncle said if he hurt me and I couldn’t cook, he’d get in trouble.  He then decided to get back at me by making sure no one would be my friend.  That no one would be friends with the weird kid that can only cook.”

She hugged him with desperate strength.  “I’ll always be your friend,” she vowed.  “No matter what.”

“Me too,” he said, hugging her back.  “I mean, not being my own friend but being your friend.”  He smiled when she giggled.

She let him go and rubbed her eyes.  “Is…is this why you used to not eat with us at first?”

“One doesn’t eat with the help,” Harry said softly, repeating the words mechanically as if it had been said to him a thousand times.

Lavender growled.  “I don’t like the Dursleys.”

“I’m not terribly fond of them either,” Harry admitted quietly.  “But-“

“-they’re all you know,” Lavender finished sadly.  She sniffled a bit before squaring her shoulders.  “It’ll get better Harry.  I don’t know how, but we’ll get it better.”

“It already has, ever since we became friends,” Harry said sincerely.  He liked seeing her smile.  He took the biscuits out of the oven and set them on a rack to cool.  “So, uhm, do you want me to tell Pansy she isn’t welcome anymore?”

Lavender sighed.  “I…I don’t know.  I agree that she probably didn’t mean to hurt me directly; she couldn’t have known.  But, it still hurts a lot.”  She nibbled on a warm biscuit gratefully.  “Maybe if she apologizes and promises to not say that sort of thing again?”

“If you’re sure.”

“I wouldn’t want to ban her completely, she’s your friend,” Lavender said slowly.

“But so are you and you were my friend first,” Harry said sincerely.

She smiled and felt warmer at his words.  “Are those all for me?” she asked as he put the biscuits in the bag. 

“All except for this tray.  This one is for the House Elves to keep us from getting in trouble,” he said and they both snickered.  They broke into outright laughter when the tray of biscuits disappeared in front of them.  They then finished cleaning up the clubroom and snuck back to the tower, hiding once more under the cloak.  Luckily the door swung open when they got there, a prefect leaving for patrol, and they slid in and made it to a corner to take off the cloak with none the wiser of what they’ve done.

“Harry?”  Lavender hugged him tightly.  “Thank you.  You’re an amazing friend.”

He hugged her back.  “You’re amazing.”

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

22^nd Course – Amends

“I still can’t believe you did that,” Parvati said as they walked to breakfast the next morning.

“You told her?” Harry asked with a smile.

“I was debating it but she apparently sniffed out the biscuits,” Lavender smiled back.

“At least I didn’t try to steal any,” Parvati said as if she made a very large concession.

“No, you just begged for them, looking at them like Cokie does for treats,” Lavender giggled.  “But I didn’t mind sharing.  I had to bribe Hermione so she wouldn’t tell on us.”

“I wasn’t going to!” Hermione protested.  She sighed and smiled a little when Lavender and Parvati laughed.  “I completely understood why you did it, even if it broke the rules.”

“I know, just teasing,” Lavender smiled.

“There you go, now you’re loosening up a little,” Parvati praised when Hermione stuck her tongue out at Lavender.

“You two are terrible influences,” Hermione said with a teasing smile.

“I can say the same about you.  I find myself reading for fun and working on homework more,” Parvati said airily.

“You could blame that on Padma,” Harry smiled.

“I’d never admit to that,” Parvati laughed.  She looked past Harry and Lavender and went still.  “Uhm, Pansy’s coming over.”

Harry turned and opened his mouth but his jaw dropped.  “Pansy, are you okay?” he asked, worried. 

Pansy always appeared collected more often than not.  Her school robes were always clean and well maintained and she wore other kinds of robes for when they met in club, fashionable and well-made.  She never appeared anything less than what she called ‘presentable’.

Today she was not entirely presentable.  She had dark rings under her red eyes, her hair not done like it normally was, her clothes a bit askew.  She looked nervous and upset, almost as upset as the time Harry found her crying in the alcove.  Her eyes were red and she twisted a handkerchief in her hands.

“I am not okay,” she said very quietly.  She took a deep and shaky breath.  “Miss Brown, I am very sorry for what I said yesterday.”

Lavender and Harry stared at her and Parvati and Hermione exchanged a shocked look.

Pansy continued to speak, her words coming out in a rush.  “I swear I was not directing those comments at you.  Millie, Millicent and I grew up together and that’s how we usually interact and it’s something a lot of the families that we know do.  I realize from an outsider perspective it looks mean and it is…a little mean and…” her voice faded a little.

She blinked rapidly.  “I know how I treated you all at the beginning of last year was unkind and I never properly apologized for it and I wish to do that now,” she babbled.  “And I am very sorry Miss Brown and whatever I must do to make up for it, I swear I will do.”  She looked down miserably, and waited.

Lavender took a deep breath herself and let it out slowly.  “I forgive you,” she said quietly.  “And I accept your apology.”

Pansy’s head shot up and she looked at the other girl.  “You do?” she whispered.

“I do,” Lavender said.  “I was going to wait and see what you did and well, I can tell you mean it.  You didn’t sleep, did you?”

Pansy shook her head.  “No.  I kept thinking about it and every time I saw your face and Harry’s again, I felt wretched.  I never felt that way before when confronted with how I spoke to people.  I used to never give it a second thought or…” she gulped, “I was proud of what I said.

“I knew I had not directed my comments at you and yet, for you to look that distressed, I felt terrible.  I got worried that we wouldn’t be…friendly anymore and I really don’t want that.”  She swallowed painfully.  “That’s why I wanted to come and apologize sincerely.”

Millicent came walking into the Great Hall and looked left and right, seeing Pansy at the Gryffindor table.  She hurried over and looked at everyone anxiously.  “Hey,” she said shyly.  “I’m sorry.  I swear, Pansy and I talk like that to each other all the time and we really didn’t mean it to spill over.  Pansy wasn’t talking about you at all, I promise.”

“She told us,” Harry said softly.  “And we believe her, and you.”

“Oh thank Merlin,” Millicent said with a huge sigh of relief.  “But, uhm, do you, forgive us?”

“I do,” Lavender repeated.  “I knew you weren’t really talking about me but…” her voice trailed off.  When Harry took her hand and squeezed it like she had done for him, she smiled a little, thankful for the gesture and support.  “For years I was bullied for that.  Wearing the same thing and it struck a nerve.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having a favorite outfit,” Millicent said kindly.

“No, but it was all I had,” Lavender said quietly.

“Oh,” Millicent winced.  “I see.”

Pansy looked mortified.  “I’m so sorry,” she said again.

“And I accept, again.  Just, try not to use that sort of joke again, please,” Lavender said.

“I swear,” Pansy said eagerly.

“Me too,” Millicent said.

They stood there, looking awkwardly at each other.

“How about you join us?” Parvati said all of a sudden.

“Can we do that?” Millicent asked.

“There’s nothing in the school rules saying you cannot,” Hermione said slowly.  “You are just expected to on special events to sit with your House, but on other days, there are no rules against it.”

Millicent and Pansy looked at each other.  “If you want,” Millicent said softly.

After a moment of hesitation, Pansy nodded and she and Millicent gingerly sat at the Gryffindor table, as if expecting something strange or terrible to happen.  As it were, Harry and the others sat at the end so Pansy and Millicent sat on the other side with Harry and the three girls being a barrier between them and the rest of Gryffindor.

Soft murmurs began to rise as people from all the Houses watched on with astonishment.  Seeing Pansy publicly apologize was already a rare sight.  Seeing people from one House sit at another table was another one.

“Why did you suggest this?” Hermione whispered to Parvati.  “Wasn’t it already a bit awkward?”

“I panicked a little,” Parvati admitted.  “And well, I thought it would be a nice way to smooth things over more.”

“Thank you for apologizing,” Harry said softly, turning a little to Pansy.

She looked at him, eyes still a little red.  “We’re still friends, right?”

Harry felt his heart ache a little.  “We are,” he reaffirmed.  “And I’m glad you apologized.  That was really good of you.”

Pansy nearly cried from relief.  She sniffled a little.  “I…I actually did want to apologize because I did feel terrible, though I’m not too sure why honestly.  But,” her voice was a whisper, “I wanted to apologize because I didn’t want to lose you either.”

Harry patted her arm awkwardly.  “It’s good that you wanted to apologize and we’re still friends.  I’m glad I can be friends with someone who does care, even if they’re not too sure why.  I don’t know why I do things either sometimes.”

Pansy’s smile trembled a little but she looked a lot better.

“Can I join you?”  They turned and saw Luna standing there, looking a little wistful.  “It looks much nicer to sit here than where I usually do.”

“Sure, join us,” Parvati said, sliding down a little.  Luna plopped down beside her, a bright smile replacing her look of general dreaminess. 

Neville arrived and blinked at the sight.  “What happened?” he asked softly.

“We’ll explain later,” Hermione said, making room for him.

Breakfast food appeared on the serving plates and that distracted them for the moment as they served themselves.  Millicent took a bite of bacon and looked at the tray with a questioning look.  “Say, your bacon is better.”

“Is it?” Lavender asked.

“Yeah, it tastes better.”  Millicent took another bite.  “How’s that fair?  Why do the Gryffindors get better bacon?”  She said the words without heat and a slightly exaggerated smile on her face.

“I don’t think it is because it’s for the Gryffindors,” Luna said as she munched on a rasher.  “It is better than the ones I’ve gotten at the Ravenclaw table too.  But I don’t think it’s because the Elves are treating the Gryffindors better.”

“I wonder why then,” Hermione mused.

Luna blinked her slightly overly large eyes.  “It’s for Harry of course.  They like him.”

Harry flushed a little but joined the laughter of the others.  “I should tell them not to do that.  I don’t want them playing favorites for me.”

“I don’t mind,” Parvati quipped.  “We get to benefit too.”

The post and family owls arrived, the usual storm of flapping wings and hooting and barking filled the air.  Hedwig circled down, coming in for a landing and not upsetting a single thing on the table.  She hooted hello at Harry and nuzzled his cheek before bobbing her head at the others.  She looked at the newcomers with a bit of surprise, giving Pansy a cool look, before also bobbing her head hello.

“She comes to visit you even if she isn’t delivering you anything?” Pansy asked with wonder.

“Mmhmm!  We always have breakfast together,” Harry said happily.

“And she always filches from your plate?” Millicent asked, smiling when Hedwig was indeed doing just that.

“Yup,” Harry smiled.  “She has good manners as in she never takes from the serving tray.  She helps herself to mine though and never takes from anyone else’s plate without permission.  She probably thinks it tastes better that way.”

Luna reached across the table and took a rasher from his plate and bit into it.  “Oh I think I agree with her,” she said brightly, making the others laugh while Hedwig nodded sagely.

-0-

“Well now, that’s an interesting sight,” McGonagall murmured softly.

The drama at the Gryffindor table was noticed by all, including the Head table, where the professors and Headmaster sat at.  They had watched with intense fascination as it played out before them and they were all fairly surprised when Millicent and Pansy had sat at the table, with Luna following soon after.

“When was the last time something like this happened?” Flitwick said with a broad smile.

“Before I started my time as Headmaster,” Dumbledore chuckled, “so many many years.”  He served himself some bacon.  “I think it is a good thing.”

“Not all do,” Snape said quietly.  He noticed how a good amount of the Slytherins were watching with poorly disguised displeasure on some, apathy on others, and one had a look of sheer anger on his face.

“True,” Dumbledore acknowledged.  “Perhaps that can also change eventually.  An open mind is much better than a closed one.”

“Unless you have something to hide from a legilimens,” Flitwick said brightly, causing them to snort and laugh.  “What’s wrong, Pomona?”

“I can’t help but notice none of mine are over there,” Sprout said.  “And my House is supposed to be the friendly one!”

“Give it time,” Dumbledore smiled.  He gave Harry a fond look, watching him from afar.  “I do believe it will only be a matter of time before there will be others.  He draws people in and makes them feel welcome.  His kindness can only grow when more flock to him.”

-0-

“Do relax, Mister Potter, before you strain something,” McGonagall said dryly.

Harry relaxed a little at that.  “Yes Ma’am.”

“There is nothing to fret over,” she continued.  “This is a meeting about choosing your electives next year.”

“Oh okay, I thought the meetings weren’t mandatory though.”

“They are not but I wanted to offer some insight if you would like some.  Have you spoken with any of the older students?” she asked.

He nodded.  “I chatted with Oliver and Percy.  They were nice and talked about what they’re doing and why.”

“That is good,” McGonagall said approvingly.  “You are getting either side of the spectrum there: one more academic and one more athletic.  I typically advise that you match electives to your interests and it is never too early to not think about future careers.  Granted, one typically discovers what they like during school and there are many instances where a person changes their mind during school.  Do not feel too pressured there.”

She smiled a little.  “That all being said, I believe you already have a passion?”

“Not sure if I’d call it that,” Harry said shyly.  “But I like to cook and if I could do something with that, that would be great.  Are there a lot of magical careers that involve cooking or food or something like that?”

McGonagall sat back and hummed thoughtfully.  “To be truthful, I do not know.  Unfortunately, Wizarding Britain does not think too highly of a culinary profession.  There are plenty of eateries and taverns and the like but I know for example France places more of an emphasis on it as do other cultures.  Most of the careers that come readily to mind are Hunters or work in trade, as in trading goods.”

“I see.  I guess Muggles care more about it.  There are chefs that have really famous restaurants and things like that.”

She shifted in her seat a little.  “Perhaps that may be why it never was as highlighted.  A fair portion of our society caters to the Magicals that deem Muggle things or mundane things as beneath their notice.”

“I wondered why there aren’t any real magazines or publications,” Harry said wistfully.  “I was reading one I found and did you know there’s this big international competition for cooking?  I mean there’re ones for Muggles but there’s one for the magical community too.”

“Oh?  That’s intriguing.”  She shook her head.  “Actually, it makes sense.  One thing you will learn, Mister Potter, is that magicals around the world share one universal trait: the drive to prove themselves to other magicals.  There are plenty of competitions for all sorts of magical things.  I suppose I never thought about a cooking one because, again, Wizarding Britain does not care for it as much.”

“That’s silly,” Harry sighed.  “Everyone has to eat.  Might as well like what you eat and try new things.”

“A very practical viewpoint,” she praised. 

“What would you recommend for me to take as electives?” he asked.

“Care of Magical Creatures,” she said easily.  “Animal husbandry is a part of the course and I heard you asked Hagrid to hunt with him?  In Care, you learn about all sorts of aspects of caring for magical animals including in breaking down the ones hunted or who die in care and are used.  I believe that will fit your interests.

“Aside from that, Ancient Runes perhaps?  Reading runes is a way to understand older cultures and magics while runic magic is also vital for rituals.  Not to mention runes are used for permanent magics.  I will also tell you that once past your O.W.L.s, Ordinary Wizarding Levels that you take in your fifth year, there are additional classes that can open up to those willing and talented.  If you perform well in Charms and Runes and have a firm understanding of Transfiguration, there is an Enchanting class that can be offered.  That might prove interesting since you can enchant objects and things which I’m sure you could find uses for in a magical kitchen.”

Harry’s eyes opened wide.  “Really?  That sounds incredible!”

McGonagall smiled again and this time it was pride and melancholy mixed together.  “Your mother was in that class.  One of the few Muggleborns ever to take it, and she did quite well in it too.”

“She did?” he asked, leaning forward eagerly.

“She did,” McGonagall affirmed.  “She was very good at it too.  She and Professor Flitwick got along very well; she was quite good in charms.  He is the Professor for it as well and they did many wonderful things.” 

“What did my dad take?” he asked, hungry for more.

“The bare minimum,” McGonagall snorted.  “Spent a lot of his time on the Quidditch pitch if he could get away with it.”  She enjoyed Harry’s laugh at that.  “He also took Care of Magical Creatures, though he saw it more of a way to have fun outdoors but he took it seriously which was good.  He also did an extended Transfiguration elective with me when he could.”

She smiled again.  “He actually took Muggle Studies too, eventually.  For a rather lovely and silly reason.”

“What was it?”

“To impress your mother,” she said and her smile was warm.  “When he wanted to prove he was more than one of the Pureblood boys and tried to be better.”

“Did it work?  Impress her I mean,” Harry asked.

“To a degree.  The class has always been a little outdated and when he tried to show off his knowledge, he was still a bit behind on the current social climate,” McGonagall chuckled richly.  “Yet, as if showing his maturity, he continued to take the class seriously after Lily laughed at him for some misconceptions.  He was ever so proud when he proved he could go about in the Muggle world with little difficulty.”

“Wow, that’s pretty cool,” Harry said softly.  “The Headmaster said that he was a little headstrong and that he and mum were somewhat likely to talk back to people.”

“James Potter was a cheeky bairn and I say that lovingly,” McGonagall nearly shouted, coloring from embarrassment but grateful that despite looking shocked, for many reasons, Harry was laughing.  “First day of class as a firstie, he was trying to prove to me he knew what was what in transfiguration because he was taught by his father.  Well I taught his father a thing or two and he did not take too kindly to that!”

She regained her composure.  “To be fair, he did know more than most firsties but I had to knock him down a few pegs and keep him there.”  She smiled softly.  “He got over himself soon enough and it was a joy to teach him.  He was talented in transfiguration.”

“Lily was a delight too.  So intelligent and eager to learn basically everything.  More talented in charms and she had a dab hand in potions, but her transfiguration abilities were perfectly satisfactory,” she continued, her eyes slightly out of focus as she peered into yesteryear.

“I guess I’m not like them that much,” Harry said sadly.

Her eyes focused on him.  “I do not expect you to be them,” she said gently.  “I know you will always feel compared to them but remember that you are not exactly them.  You perform well in my class and I know you try.  That matters a lot.  Talent is one thing.  Dedication and effort is another.  I have no complaints with your abilities so far and as long as you continue to work as hard as you do, I do not believe I will.”

“Thank you!” Harry said with a bright smile.

So like the both of them, she thought, her heart aching, but he is not them.  “You are very welcome.  Now, let me tell you what your father did once in my class as a cautionary tale to not repeat…”

-0-

“Harry, you did not order anything special for the club, did you?” Flitwick asked.

“No Sir,” Harry said, looking at the parcels and things on the tables in the clubroom.  “Where did all this come from?”

“That is what I am trying to discover,” Flitwick said.  He looked through them, waving his wand.  “Nothing nefarious or harmful spell wise.  Ah, here we go.”  He found a piece of parchment and began reading.  “It is a receipt.  Goodness, that is a lot of fabric material and things.  High quality too and unstinting in the amount.”

“Don’t look at me,” Lavender said as she looked at the packages longingly.  “I wouldn’t know where to order from and that all sounds wonderful.  Expensive!  But wonderful.”

“Oh it arrived.”  They turned and saw Pansy and Millicent walking into the clubroom.  “Finally.”

“This is your doing?” Flitwick asked, surprised.

The girls nodded.  “Stuff from my family trading company,” Millicent said.

“I helped pay for the things and the delivery,” Pansy said.

“These are very expensive fabrics and materials,” Flitwick said, holding up the receipt.

“It was sold at cost with an additional discount,” Millicent said.  “Through my allotment.  I was happy to.”

“And I was happy to pay the fee,” Pansy frowned slightly.  “I’ve paid more for less before.”

“That is incredibly generous of both of you,” Flitwick said slowly.  “But in the future, we can discuss it as a club to make purchases.”

“It was more of a way for us to make up for our…well, what we did,” Pansy said weakly.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Lavender said, a little shocked.

“Of course we did.  We made the offense, we must provide the recompense,” Pansy said a little frostily with Millicent nodding.  “It is only right.”

“We appreciate it,” Harry said hurriedly.  “But you did apologize too and we were happy with that.”

“But…those were only words,” Pansy said, growing less offended and more confused.

“It’s what we do,” Millicent shrugged.  “When we mess up, we have to make up for it and this is how we do it.”

“By throwing money at it?” Parvati asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Pansy and Millicent said in a plain tone, as if it was obvious.

Flitwick cleared his throat.  “Well, we can accept this the one time as a gift and I am grateful for your generosity.  In the future however, let us discuss things beforehand.  Thank you, Miss Bulstrode and Miss Parkinson, for doing this.  It was wonderful of you to do it, even as a form of apology.”

The two girls looked at each other again and nodded shyly.  “You’re welcome,” Pansy said in a small voice.

Lavender smiled.  “I really appreciate it.  Can you talk about some of the fabrics and things?”

Millicent snorted.  “I can do that in my sleep.  I’ve done it before in my sleep.”

“She has,” Pansy confirmed with a small smile.  The smile grew as she watched her best friend talk about the different things with great enthusiasm to Lavender, Parvati, and Flitwick.  “I…I didn’t know what you wanted,” she confessed to Harry.  “I thought about ordering some cookware or things but I don’t know what you like.”

Harry blinked and shook his head.  “You don’t need to.  I’m grateful you wanted to and your apology meant a lot.  I don’t get a lot of those so it was very nice.”

She bit her lip.  “I feel like I should be doing something more to make up for what I’ve done.”

“As long as you’re trying, that’s what matters,“ Harry said.  “And you tried without anyone telling you to.  That was really good of you.”

She blushed a little.  “Well, I’m getting you something for Christmas then and you can’t stop me.”

He smiled bashfully at that.  “I’m doing the same then.  Getting you something I mean.”

She brightened.  “I’d like that.”

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

23^rd Course – New Traditions

“Someone looks happy,” Lavender observed while looking equally happy.  After some thought, she frowned.  “I’m not going to like the reason, am I?”

Harry kept stirring the sauce on the hob.  “You don’t like that I’m happy?  I’m wounded.”  He snickered when she poked him in the side.

“Don’t tell me that you’re really happy because you’re making a Christmas dinner and that you get to eat it with the people you made it for, for once,” she said shortly.

“Would you rather I lie?” he asked quietly.

“Harry…”

“I know, it’s not right,” he said quieter still.

She huffed and hugged him around the middle hard.  “At least we can make it right.  Everything smells amazing!”

He flushed from pleasure.  “Thanks!  I worked extra hard on the food this time.”

“You work hard on the food all the time,” Lavender smiled.

“True, but I wanted to make it super good this time,” he said.

It was the day before people left for holiday and there was a hint of tension in the air.  There had been a series of strange occurrences around the castle.  There were rooms where things were broken and smashed, as if by something big and heavy.  A few older Slytherin students had claimed they were attacked by something and the door to the room they hid in did look damaged.  Despite investigations from the faculty, they had not found who, or what, was doing all of this.  A sense of dread and chill had fallen about the castle that had nothing to do with the winter and more than a few were eager to leave the school.

Having obtained permission, Harry was making a traditional Christmas dinner for the club and they were going to eat it together.  Harry was the only person staying at the castle over the holiday, something that Lavender and the Patils and Pansy were not too happy about.  He had told them that he would be safe with Remus and Flitwick and Dumbledore at the castle as well as the other major professors.  Not to forget about Pomfrey and Hagrid and of course the House Elves.

In fact he was already going to have Christmas tea with Dumbledore and spend a great amount of time with Remus, both things he was looking forward to.  And he knew he would be spending a lot of time in the kitchen with the elves and with Hagrid as well.  He, logically, made the point that he would be reasonably safe in their company.

Harry had been especially excited because, like the aforementioned unfortunate reasoning was, for the first time he would be able to eat the Christmas dinner with the people he was cooking it for.  At the same time no less, instead of the leftovers and well after.  Also some of them have never had an English Christmas dinner before, so he wanted to do a good job of it.

The others had decorated their clubroom and it was very cozy.  Fairy lights glittered and twinkled as they moved about the periphery of the room.  A fire crackled merrily in the hearth, keeping the room very warm and comfortable.  A cauldron bubbled in the corner filling the room with aromas of pine and winter mint and citrus and cinnamon that emphasized the savory smells of the dinner instead of combatting them.

“I think Luna’s finally succeeded in thoroughly confusing Hermione,” Padma said as she wandered over.  “She can’t tell if Luna’s telling the truth on holiday traditions or not.”

“I don’t think Luna’s lying,” Harry said.

“I don’t either but I think Luna is taking personal family tradition and making it sound like general magical tradition,” Padma giggled.  “And what she and her family does apparently does share a lot of what other magical homes do because Neville and Millicent and Pansy have agreed with some of what she said.”

“And I guess Parvati is just fanning the fire huh?” Lavender asked.

“She’s being a dreadful liar,” Padma laughed.  “We do things way differently for the holidays and she’s having fun confusing everyone.”

“What’s on your mind?” Harry asked when Pansy approached them.

“I was surprised to learn that my family has some of the same traditions that the Lovegoods do,” she said.  “Given how eccentric they are.  It was actually nice to learn that we share some of them.”  She sniffed the air delicately.  “That looks very nice, if a bit odd.  What is it?”

“It’s a bread sauce,” Harry said, stirring the creamy and thick-looking sauce.

“Bread…sauce?”  Pansy raised an eyebrow and Padma mirrored the expression. 

“You can make sauce out of bread?” Padma asked.

“It’s good!” Lavender said. 

“Why is that a thing?” Pansy asked with mild trepidation.

“Apparently it was a way to use stale bread way back then,” Harry said.  “To stretch food out and not waste it.  But it’s a traditional side for Christmas dinner.  Think of it like gravy you put on meat and veg.”  He scooped some up on a tasting spoon.

Lavender opened her mouth and Harry fed her the spoonful of sauce.  “Mmm, that’s tasty,” Lavender said, licking her lips.

After wiping it clean, he dipped the spoon back into the sauce and after a moment, Pansy took the spoon from him and tasted it.  “I didn’t know what to expect,” she said, “but that is delicious.  Texture is a bit strange but not unpleasant.”

“Yeah, that’s weird but in a good way,” Padma said after she tried some.

“To be fair, you eat it on top of things like a sauce or gravy,” Harry said.  “But I made regular gravy too.”

“We should really help you more,” Pansy said.  “You do so much.”

“I’m happy to really,” Harry smiled.  He gave a start and jumped a little, looking down to see Sunny climbing his leg.  “Aww, hello Sunny,” he greeted, smiling again when she clambered up onto his shoulder and draped herself over his neck, purring contentedly.

“Someone’s a little jealous,” Padma smiled, pointing at a severely affronted Hedwig that glared at the kneazle.  Sunny closed her eyes with lordly insouciance, continuing to purr unperturbed. 

“Come here beast,” Pansy said and lifted a protesting Sunny off of Harry’s shoulders.  “Before you start a fight and fall into the food and ruin it.”  She smiled triumphantly when Sunny dug her claws ineffectually into her overrobe.  “Foiled again!”  She shrieked when Sunny managed to bite her through her sleeve and the kneazle minced off, her tail up in victory.

“I guess we need to ask Professor Flitwick for kneazle-bite proof charms,” Harry grinned.  He turned his head a little when Hedwig landed on his shoulder and fluffed up, looking incredibly possessive.  He rubbed his head against her, making her coo.

“Just like her owner,” Pansy said, shaking a fist at Sunny.  “Both love to bother me!”

“Alright everyone, it’s all ready!”  He proudly displayed the serving table and everyone oohed appreciatively at the food.  “We have a roast turkey and lots of roasted veg: potatoes, carrots, parsnips, and Brussel sprouts.  There’s lots of Yorkshire puddings.  These are pigs in blankets here.  And this is a simple brown gravy I made from the drippings and this is bread sauce.  I didn’t make the traditional pudding because I couldn’t get any brandy but I made a ginger and carrot cake instead.  Hope you all like it.”

“Like it, this looks amazing and I still can’t believe you made it all,” Millicent said, eyes wide.  “How long were you cooking for?”

“A few hours,” Harry said off-handedly.  “But I’m used to it and I think this is some of the best I’ve ever made.”

“Oh boy then it has to be great,” Parvati said eagerly.  “Thanks Harry!”  The others thanked him profusely and they filled their plates and sat together at a few desks they pushed together to be their dinner table and dug in.

“Okay, I’m a fan of bread sauce,” Padma said.  “It does taste really good on the turkey and the vegetables.  It’s so weird but I like it.”

“These puddings are my favorite,” Luna said, dipping a piece of pudding in gravy.  “And I like puddings but this is not the same as those.”

“It does get a bit confusing,” Hermione said.  “Considering pudding is a catch-all term for desserts too.  I agree, these Yorkshires are so good!”

“Does anyone else find the name pigs in blankets a bit odd?” Neville smiled as he ate the bacon-wrapped sausage.

“It’s cute in a worrisome way,” Millicent laughed.

“I’ve always wanted to try this,” Sue said as she ate.  “We normally have way different kinds of foods for the holidays.”

“Like what?” Harry asked.

“Roast duck usually, or whole fish or chicken,” Sue said, “with a bunch of other side dishes.  I’ll see if I can get the duck recipe for us.  That’s a family one and my uncle who makes it is annoyingly tight-lipped about them though.”

“This is different too from what we normally have,” Pansy said with Millicent and Neville nodding in agreement.  “Ours are more in smaller courses and a touch more elaborate.”

“Ours are like this,” Lavender said.  “But can I steal the Pudding recipe?  It’s so good.  I want to wow my family this holiday with it.”

“We have vindaloo and biryani and mutton stew for ours,” Parvati said.  “Stuff that takes a little longer to make.  We usually have to help make all the samosas.”

“That way we can claim more later,” Padma smiled.

Everyone ate until very full, with Hedwig and Sunny having their own dishes and having done their own full justice to them, and the remainder was claimed by Inky and the other House Elves.  They sat together and enjoyed that sleepy state of a warm room and a slightly overfull stomach. 

“I’m glad we did this,” Harry said gratefully.  “Thanks for sharing dinner with me.”

“Thanks for cooking it all,” Lavender said warmly with murmurs of agreement from everyone else.

“I feel like we should do more so you can take a break,” Sue said.  “But you’re so happy making it and I don’t think we’d do nearly as good of a job.”

“We can help more moving forward,” Pansy said firmly.  She looked at Harry when conversations continued between all the others.  “You will be careful, right?  Being here during the holiday.”

Harry felt flattered by her care.  “I will, don’t worry.”

-0-

“I am very happy that we can do this again,” Dumbledore smiled when he opened the door to his office.  “I have many fond memories of last year’s tea.”

Harry beamed, carrying the large serving tray in.  “Me too.  It was really nice.  Maybe next time we can do it with more of the people in the castle.”

“That would be pleasant.  And I see we have a new guest with us today.  Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said.

Hedwig hooted a very stately greeting, nodding in a very prim and proper way to Dumbledore.

“Lavender told her to watch out for me over the holiday, to keep me safe,” Harry sighed.  “And Hedwig is taking her duty very seriously.”

“I imagine sitting on your head is an excellent vantage spot for safe-keeping,” Dumbledore grinned.

“I personally think she sits on my head to keep her ar-rear warm,” Harry said, correcting himself and looking sheepish.

“A cold arse is a terrible thing,” Dumbledore laughed and even Harry broke into laughter when he felt Hedwig nod and saw Fawkes nodding in agreement.  Dumbledore cleared the things off his desk and helped Harry set up the tray and plates, smiling in anticipation at the spread of food.  It was like last year.  Lots of sliced sandwiches, an array of small sweets and slices of cake, a steaming pot of tea, and of course, extra jam and cream.

He watched fondly as Harry served Hedwig and Fawkes their own plates and the two birds sat side by side and noisily enjoyed their food.  “Tell me, Harry, has Fawkes appeared to beg for food from you?  I have noticed he disappears on club nights here and there.”

“First time he appeared, he startled everyone,” Harry laughed.  “Just flashed in with that burst of fire and light.  Everyone likes him though.  He stayed for Luna to draw him.  He’s always welcome.”

“I will add some coins to the club budget.  It is not fair for him to eat his share without contributing.”  Dumbledore ignored Fawkes' indignant song squawk. 

“At least none is going to waste,” Harry smiled.

“That is true.  And the deal struck with the kitchens continues to be profitable I see.  I noticed a very pleasant reception to your muffins being introduced at breakfast.”

“I’m glad!  The deal is still wonderful.  They’ve been practicing the butter chicken and I can’t wait to see Parvati and Padma’s reactions when that’s served for dinner one day,” Harry smiled brightly.  His smile fell a little.  “Any word from the Elves actually, about finding Dobby?”

“Sadly not, which is a good thing admittedly,” Dumbledore sighed.  “It means he has not made a second attempt, at least as far as we know.  Do not worry, we are keeping an eye on things.”

“Anything new about the Heir and the Chamber?” Harry asked.

“Not really, which is vexing if I may be honest.  Between you and I, we have not discovered any clues to identifying whatever caused the damage.  No traces remained and it is perplexing.” 

“Can the House Elves look for it like they are for Dobby?”

“Unfortunately not.  They can recognize each other’s magic and are sensitive to certain others, but they are unfamiliar with whatever is causing the trouble now and they have looked some but so far, no luck there either.”  Dumbledore shook his head.  “Let us speak of better things, shall we?  No need to ruin the holiday right now.”

“No Sir.  I’m sorry.”

“Do not be.  You are naturally curious and if anything pertinent comes up, I will speak to you of it.”  Dumbledore ate a cucumber sandwich delicately, enjoying the soft bread and the rich butter paired with the very crisp and well-seasoned cucumber garnished with cress.  “I actually wish to commend you, Harry.  You have made some wonderful friends.  Even some from different Houses.  That is no small feat.”

“Thank you, Sir.  They’re good friends,” he said honestly.

Dumbledore smiled mischievously.  “I cannot help but notice there are no Hufflepuffs in your circle of friends, something Professor Sprout laments a little.”

Harry laughed.  “I guess I haven’t gotten to know any of them.  Zacharias is…isn’t very pleasant and Ernie and Justin are a little snooty.  And I don’t know Miss Bones or Miss Abbot very well either.  Only in class and barely speaking in passing.”

“I am not pushing,” Dumbledore smiled.  “If a friendship with them comes to be, then all the better.”  He sipped his tea.  “Do tell me if I am being too nosy, but I gather something rather serious happened a few weeks prior involving Miss Brown and Miss Parkinson?”

“Oh, yeah.  Pansy said some things that weren’t nice but didn’t know how Lavender would react,” Harry said softly.  “But luckily Pansy apologized and Lavender accepted.”

“That is good.  It is always unpleasant to be in the middle of friends fighting,” Dumbledore said seriously.

Harry nodded in agreement.  “It’s not fun at all.  But they came to an understanding and I think they’re friendlier now which is nice.  Lavender’s my best friend.”  He smiled.  “It actually helped us get to know each other a little better.”

“Splendid,” Dumbledore said approvingly.  “Sometimes an ill wind can bring a bit of fresh air.”

“Yeah, she’s been helping me too.  Telling me that some things aren’t right.”  As if noticing he spoke too much, Harry busied himself with another sandwich.

Dumbledore waited a few moments.  “Hopefully with nothing involving the school.”

“Oh no Sir, don’t worry, Hogwarts is still awesome.”

“Excellent,” the Headmaster smiled.  He waited for a few more moments.  “Then it involves your home life?  Once again, do feel free to let me know if I am being too nosy.  You may not have noticed, but I am a little older than you.”  He grinned when Harry snorted.  “In my many years of life, I have learned a few things and if I can provide some insight and some advice, I would be happy to.”

“Oh well, it’s nothing really,” Harry said a little evasively.  “Just about how I grew up at the Dursleys.  It’s nothing to worry about.”

Dumbledore chewed slowly on a blueberry scone daubed with jam and cream.  “If you say so,” he said slowly.  “If you ever feel the need to contact me while you are there, please feel free to do so.  If you need aid that the Dursleys cannot provide, it would be my pleasure to assist.”

“Really?”

“Indeed.  I understand some things must be difficult for them to handle and once again, I have a bit more experience to render some aid.”

“You can’t be that much older than me,” Harry said with a bright smile.

“Magicals have a longer lifespan,” Dumbledore chuckled.  “And in general, age a bit more gracefully.  I am happy to say that I am comfortably in my early latter years of my life with plenty to do yet.”

Hedwig chewed on her third bacon sandwich and turned to look at a snickering Fawkes that was doing a poor job of hiding his amusement.

“Is he choking?” Harry asked worriedly.

“No, he is being very rude,” Dumbledore sniffed and reached out to take a biscuit off Fawkes’ plate, ignoring the phoenix’s indignant hiss while dodging his irritable pecking.  “I know where you sleep,” he said severely.

Fawkes’ look was a very obvious ‘so do I’ and the venerable man and magical bird glared at each other for a few moments.

Harry was enjoying it immensely.  Seeing the elder wizard, a stately and impressive figure, acting like a child with his pet/companion was a rare treat.

Dumbledore coughed.  “Returning to the topic, if you ever need someone to consult with and are comfortable doing so, feel free to reach out to me.”

“I appreciate it, Sir,” Harry smiled.

-0-0-0-

“Harry, come in come in,” Remus said warmly.

Harry walked into Remus’ living quarters at the castle, looking around in interest, having never visited a professors’ living space before.  It was large and spacious, the furniture made of the same dark wood that most of the desks and tables and chairs were made of in the castle.  A fire blazed in the hearth, making the room warm and comfortable. 

He set the tray he was carrying on the table.  “I like your sitting room.”

Remus smiled.  “It is a bit spartan, lacking in personal effects.  I spent many years traveling and did so lightly so I do not have many things.  I’ve been slowly going through my old storage however in an attempt to do some cleaning and bring some things over.”

“I know how that is,” Harry nodded with understanding.

“Traveling for many years?” Remus asked with some confusion.

“Oh no Sir, I mean Remus, not having many personal things I mean.”

Remus frowned.  “Hmm, well, then I think this will be a good time to add to it.  Happy Christmas, Harry.”  He handed Harry a slim bundle.

“Thank you!  May I open it now?”  Harry took the package eagerly.   

Remus laughed.  “Of course!  No need to wait for Christmas to open it.”

Harry undid the wrapping carefully and gasped when he removed it completely.  It was a photo album and a picture of his parents and himself as a baby graced the cover.  He opened the album with shaking fingers and flipped the pages, seeing pictures of his mother and father.  Like all magical photographs, they moved and smiled and were not still.  “Oh, thank you,” he whispered.

Remus felt his throat constrict a little.  “You are quite welcome,” he said thickly.  “Hagrid and I worked on that together.  We reached out to who we thought would have a picture and I combed through my storage.  We found a good amount.”

Harry blinked away happy tears.  He closed the album and hugged it to his chest hard before setting it aside.  “I love it,” he said soulfully.  He fished out a small slim package from his bag.  “And this is for you!”

“You’re too kind, you already provided what looks like an amazing meal,” Remus protested but took the package.

“I made a lot of stuff for Christmas Tea and saved a portion for you,” Harry said.  “Is that okay?  Having tea food for dinner?”

“It looks incredible regardless of the kind of meal,” Remus said sincerely.  He smiled at Harry.  “May I open it early as well?”  He opened it when Harry nodded and laughed.  “My goodness, this looks very nice,” Remus said, looking at the thermos with interest. 

“It’s enchanted to keep things hot for a long time or cold for a long time,” Harry said.  “I see you drink a lot of tea in class and sometimes you have that smoking tea in the goblet so hopefully you can use it for that too.”

Remus gave Harry a careful look.  “Quite observant of you,” he said after a moment’s thought.  “Thank you, Harry.  I will treasure and use this.”  He summoned some plates from the small kitchen in his quarters and after filling them, he sat back down.  “Ah, should I do one for your owl too?”

Harry shook his head.  “She already had a lot early, she’s just going to pick from mine,” he smiled comfortably while Hedwig did just that.  She had carefully sat on the photo album, cooing at the picture of baby Harry, and fluffed up beside the photo, leaning over to delicately pick bits and pieces off of Harry’s plate.  “If she wants more, I’ll get it for her.”

Remus chuckled.  “Quite the intelligent owl and a close companion.”  He bit into the egg and cress sandwich and he looked at it with surprise.  “Goodness, this is delicious!  And you made everything?”  He ate a little faster, eager to taste it all while Harry nodded proudly.  “You’re a wonderful cook, Harry.  This is very good!”

He stopped and looked at Harry.  “How are you this good?”

“I believe you’ve said it in class: practice makes perfect,” Harry said.

“I did say that but this goes beyond practice.” 

“It was my main chore after a while,” Harry said at last.

“How often?” Remus asked quietly.

“Well, you eat every day…” Harry mumbled.

“Every meal?” Remus pressed.  He frowned when Harry nodded.  “Without any assistance or sharing?”

“I had to earn my keep,” Harry said quietly.

“And who on earth says that to a child,” Remus said angrily.  “And yes, you are a child, you were and still are,” Remus said, cutting off Harry’s look of indignation. 

“My Aunt and Uncle,” Harry muttered.

Remus spat a mouthful of tea out, startling Harry and Hedwig.  “I beg your pardon.  You are with your aunt and uncle and they treat you like that?!  Wait.  Aunt and uncle.  On your mother’s side?  Petunia is your guardian?!”

“You know her?” Harry asked, eyes wide.

“We’ve met,” Remus said evasively.  “Is…so she’s your guardian.”

“Yes…” Harry said slowly.

Remus frowned once more.  “And she forces you to cook all the meals.”

“I wouldn’t say forced,” Harry said.  “I like cooking.  It’s my favorite thing to do and once I did it full time, I didn’t have to do the other chores really.”

“Still, it is a bit much to have a child be responsible for every meal.”  Remus rubbed his face.  “You truly enjoy it?”

“Yes, I do,” Harry said earnestly.

“Silly question.  Your food tastes incredible and if you didn’t enjoy cooking, it wouldn’t be nearly as good.”  The older man sighed.  “Well, fine.  But if you need anything, anything at all, do let me know.”

“I appreciate the offer,” Harry said.  “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you make it?”  He flushed a little.  “I’m sorry, that was rude, I’m just not used to people saying that.”

Remus suppressed a growl at that comment.  “I…I should have had a bigger presence in your life,” he admitted quietly.  “James and I were friends within the first few days of us starting Hogwarts and I was friends with Lily not long after.”  He smiled softly.  “Something James hated.  This was when they couldn’t stand each other.  But I promised I would look in on you when I could but I didn’t.”

He deflated a little, sinking into the couch.  “Their deaths and the war and the end of things broke me.  I fled.  I tried to isolate myself from everything and it worked for a time.  Seeing you now, I see the depths of my failure and I can only hope you, and they can forgive me.”

Harry shifted a little.  “Well, you’re here now and you’re trying now, right?”

A ghost of a smile appeared on Remus’ face.  “Yes, and yes.”

“Then that still counts I think,” Harry said.

“You are far too kind,” Remus said with wonder.  “I solemnly swear that I will do my best for you from now on, Harry.”

The rest of the visit was very pleasant.  Remus shared stories with Harry and the boy absorbed every word.  It was late and Remus insisted they would have plenty of time later for more and Harry had left happily with Hedwig riding on his head and his arms wrapped tightly around the photo album.

Remus looked at two pictures on the shelf.  One had four boys with their arms around each other’s shoulders, pushing and shoving and smiling.  Another had an older boy and an older girl dressed in their Hogwarts robes with matching crimson and gold badges on their chests, their smiles glinting just as brightly.

“Forgive me,” Remus said to the photographic James and Lily.  “I have failed you, and him.  But I swear, I will not again.  Thank you for this second chance and I will not squander it.  Not this time.”  As he walked away, the smiles seemed a little kinder in the photographs but he did not notice them.

-0-0-0-

Harry blinked slowly.  A cavernous yawn spilled forth and he rubbed his eyes, slowly waking up.  Once again, he was the only one in the tower for the holiday but it had still been pleasant.  Hedwig had been with him the whole time.  He spent a lot of time in the kitchens with the Elves.  Hagrid had hunted more boars and he and Harry spent time together and even cooked outdoors in the snow together.  He had his tea with Dumbledore and visited with Remus a lot.  It still felt odd to not be scrambling and cooking every day and preparing for parties and big meals and while he missed the joy of cooking like that, he did not miss cooking for the Dursleys and their guests.

He made an unhappy noise.  Seeing people genuinely appreciative of his cooking made cooking for the Dursleys all the more difficult and he did not want that to be difficult.  Not really.  He knew they were rude to him, and had known if he was being honest.  His feelings about them were rather complicated though.

He looked down, noticing at last that his covers were moving.  Rather, something was moving underneath his covers.  He lifted them and smiled as Hedwig peered back up at him, her amber eyes large and her pupils constricting and dilating.  “Good morning,” he said sleepily.

She hooted happily and scootched up his chest, popping out and nuzzling his cheeks before nipping his nose playfully.  The boy and his owl play fought a little, her dancing around him and buffeting him gently with her wings and nipping him while he poked her and tugged on her feathers even more gently.  She won of course, headbutting him in the forehead and while he laughed, she began to bring up his gifts from the foot of the bed.

“There’s so many this year,” he gasped as he looked at the pile.  He opened the first one eagerly and smiled at the large wax tablet case the Patils had gotten him.  It was larger than the one he gave Padma the year prior, and the note said it was stain and heat proof and would repel anything but the enchanted stylus to write on it.  It had a built-in stand so it could be propped up and parchment could be affixed to it.  It would be perfect for cooking.

Luna had painted a very lovely picture of Harry cooking.  The fires on the hob moved on their own and he sighed with wonder at how life-like and pretty it was.  Hedwig was there as well, something the real Hedwig enjoyed immensely, puffing up and looking at her painted picture proudly.

He really liked Hermione’s gift.  It was a book about the history of British cuisine and he flipped through the first few pages eagerly, knowing he would like it.  Sue had sent him a book as well.  It described all sorts of Asian dishes and cuisines and he knew he would love it too.  Neville had given him a book on magical herbs and plants, specifically for use for potions and potion-adjacent activities.

Millicent and Pansy got him a new school bag together.  It was dark brown leather but felt incredibly soft without losing any kind of durability or solidity.  The top flap was closed with a metal latch and there was a side pocket for a handkerchief and even your wand.  It felt very fancy and looked very elegant.  He adored it.

Once again, he saved Lavender’s gift for last and was so happy when he opened it.  It was a new apron but this time, Lavender had sewn it herself.  With the gift of materials from Millicent and Pansy, she had made it from the beginning.  The body of the apron was a soft grey and the neck band and the back strings were a dark forest green.  A large pocket was sewn into the front and there was a small loop over the heart to hang things off of.  Like before, his initials and a tiny Hedwig were embroidered into the bottom right corner.

He hugged it to him and hastily put it on.  It felt perfect to him and he loved it.

Hedwig barked happily, seeing her sartorial facsimile in full display.  After Harry told her that he put her present in the room somewhere, she went flying about and came back carrying a small package, having found it on the canopy of the bed.  Soon the air was filled with tinkling music as she danced, the silver bells tied to her legs ringing merrily.

“Happy Christmas,” Harry smiled as she danced in his lap, her wings spread wide as she kicked up and down.

She cheeped lovingly back to him and continued to dance happily, hooting in time to the jingling bells.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

24^th Course – Cold Winds, Warm Hearts

Pansy and Millicent boarded the Hogwarts Express, shivering slightly from the cold wind.  Despite the numerous charms on the platform, the winter air could not be completely denied and the bitter cold seeped through robes and flesh alike, settling into the bones.

“Let’s hurry up and find a compartment,” Millicent said, teeth chattering.  “It’s freezing!”

“I hope the treat trolly has plenty of hot drinks today,” Pansy said, her teeth also chattering.  “Let’s find a compartment near the front if we don’t find the others first.  It’s usually a little warmer.  Whoops!”  She stumbled a little and Millicent caught her.  “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.  What’d you trip on?”

“A book.”  Pansy bent over and picked up a notebook.  It was heavy and leather bound.  She frowned at it.  It felt odd in her hand, which was odder still since she was wearing gloves.  “Someone must have dropped it.” 

“Well maybe we can find who it belongs to.  Is there a name on it or something?” Millicent asked.  Before Pansy could look properly or open the torn cover, a shout drew their attention and they saw Draco running towards them. 

“That’s mine!” he said loudly and snatched it from Pansy.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have dropped it in the middle of the train then,” Millicent said back, narrowing her eyes at him.

His eyes darted between them and he smoothed away his look of panic while smoothing back his hair.  “As if you have never dropped something on accident.”  He turned and walked away.  “Thank you,” he said off-handedly, glancing over his shoulder and shooting them a cool look.

“What a prat,” Millicent sighed.  “Oh, sorry.”

Pansy bit her lip.  “Yeah, he was rude.”

Millicent smiled at her friend.  “I never knew Draco wrote in a diary or something.  That’s what it looked like.”

“Who knows anymore,” Pansy sighed.  She looked at her friend who started giggling.  “What?”

“I just had a really funny thought of Mr. Malfoy writing in a diary and Draco of course copying him,” Millicent giggled.  “His hair done up to keep up those luxurious locks.”

Pansy stifled a giggle.  “Oh Millie, that’s terrible,” she said, smiling broadly.

“Terribly funny,” Millicent laughed.  They continued on and did not see any of their other friends, so they claimed a compartment near the front of the train.  They put their things up and Millicent released Sunny who crawled under her outerrobes, mewling for warmth.

“It’s so cute Harry got her a ribbon to wear,” Millicent said, playing with the bright yellow ribbon tied around Sunny’s collar. 

“It’s very cute,” Pansy smiled.  “It’s just as nice as the one he got for Hedwig.”

“She loves it,” Millicent said happily.  “I should get something for Hedwig.  I wonder if she likes green.”

“I think he was getting her bells this year,” Pansy said.  “He was telling me about them before the break started.”

“Now that’s adorable.  He’s good at giving gifts.  I really like that herbology book he got me.  We were talking about it one day and it’s actually interesting.  Apparently there’s a lot of stuff about natural dyes for fabrics.  I showed Mother and Father and they were going to try something as a personal project.”

Pansy touched her hair.  Harry’s gift had been a length of silver cord that could be shaped and charmed to hold its shape.  It was designed to be an incredibly flexible hair tie and ornament in one and she had loved it the moment she learned what it did.  Her hair was done in a long braid and the end was tied with the silver tie.  “He really is,” she said softly.

She and Millicent had come early to the platform, beating the rush of students arriving to return to Hogwarts.  They had started arriving, and she looked out the window onto the platform, seeing the milling students and their families.  She shyly raised a hand at a wave when she saw some people and they waved back, making a note of where she was.

Millicent had seen them too and waved as well.  “Still a little weird that we’re friends with them.  I’d never have guessed we would,” she remarked.

“I don’t dislike it,” Pansy said sincerely. 

“Me neither,” Millicent said just as sincerely.

After a few moments the door to their compartment opened and Lavender and the Patils came in, shivering and shaking off a bit of snow from their cloaks.  “I’m so glad you guys had a compartment,” Parvati said.  “It’s bits freezing out there!”

“Ugh, don’t say that,” Padma groaned while Lavender and Millicent laughed and Pansy looked a bit shocked.

“It’s the truth,” Parvati said as she sat down.

“Here, have a warm lap kneazle,” Millicent said and passed over Sunny.

“Kitty!”  Parvati hugged Sunny who looked at her owner with wide eyes at the frank betrayal of being passed from a warm lap to a cold one.  Soon though, Sunny got comfortable and curled up.  “That’s better,” Parvati sighed. 

“It’s only going to get colder as we get to school,” Padma grumbled.  “I can’t wait until we learn warming charms.”

“Maybe we can convince Professor Flitwick to teach us early in club,” Lavender suggested.

“Oooh, using an advantage to learn something before others?  That’s positively Slytherin of you,” Millicent teased.

“I think I’d look okay in green and silver,” Lavender laughed, flouncing her hair a little.

“You look good in anything,” Parvati complained.  “It’s not fair.  Grandmum was happy when we weren’t in Slytherin though.”

“Why?” Pansy asked, slightly offended.

“She thinks we look sickly in green,” Padma snorted.  “And she thinks silver is gaudy.”

“While she wears a lot of gold bangles and jewelry,” Parvati giggled.

“Your grandmum is the best,” Lavender laughed.

“Don’t feel too bad,” Padma said to a snickering Millicent and Pansy.  “She was equally happy we weren’t in Hufflepuff for the same reasons.  She also thinks yellow and black is bad luck.”

“For cultural reasons?” Pansy asked.

“Turns out a boy she liked and dated was in Hufflepuff and he cheated on her when she was in school,” Parvati said.  She looked around and lowered her voice.  “So she Cursed him and his hair turned into badger fur.  Said he might as well look like a badger too and she swore to be wary of them ever since.”

“I think I like your grandmother,” Pansy smiled.

Lavender looked at Pansy when the Patils and Millicent got involved in a discussion over something.  “How do you like your hair tie?”

“Oh, you knew of it?” Pansy asked.

“Harry asked me what I thought.  I thought it would look wonderful with your hair and I’m glad it does.”

Pansy touched it again.  “I do like it very much,” she said softly.

“Don’t worry, he already had the idea,” Lavender smiled.  “He wanted to ask for my opinion because I’m a girl.”

“He didn’t say that,” Pansy smiled, feeling inexplicably better.

“Not really,” Lavender giggled.  “He technically said it’s because I’m fashionable and he trusts my opinion.”

“Did he get you that bracelet?” Pansy asked, pointing at the silver bracelet Lavender wore on her left wrist.

“He did!  It’s called a place-let I think.”

“Oh!  Yes, I know of those.  They are very useful,” Pansy said.  “They aren’t usually that pretty though.”

“I figured.  My Daddy loved it when I was demonstrating I could stick all sorts of small things to it to hold,” Lavender laughed.  Lavender pulled off the quill she had stuck to the bracelet before putting it back on.  “It’s really handy.  I was able to stick needles and spools and things to it while sewing.”

She smiled brightly.  “Harry’s the best at giving gifts.”

Pansy’s smile mirrored hers.  “That’s what Millie and I were saying a few moments ago.”

“I hope he had a good holiday and stayed safe,” Lavender sighed softly.

Pansy’s sigh mirrored hers.  “Me too.”

As the train left the station, they shared what they did over the holiday.  “Wow, that sounds so beautiful,” Parvati said dreamily while Millicent described the Winter Soiree. 

“Doesn’t sound very relaxing though,” Padma said.  “It sounds like one of those big fancy events for work or something.”

“Society parties typically are,” Millicent said.  “A time for the families to jockey for position and try to learn stuff and make under the table deals over things.  They find it fun.”

“I rather just relax at a party,” Lavender laughed.  She was dangling some yarn for Sunny to bat at, flicking it up and down and smiling when the kneazle swiped and reached for the colorful yarn.

“Some do find that relaxing,” Pansy said dryly.  “I never understood it.”

“Pansy and I and the less twisty kids usually hole up somewhere and eat everything,” Millicent laughed.  “There was something weird at this year’s soiree though.”

“Oh?” Padma asked.

“Yeah, Quirrell was there.”

“Professor Quirrell?”  Parvati tilted her head.  “Really?”

Pansy nodded.  “It was strange.  We’ve never seen him attend one before.  He was also a little different.  More confident.”  She smiled a little.  “He didn’t stutter at all I mean.”

“Oh weird,” Lavender said.  “I mean, that’s a good thing usually, right?”

“It was very weird,” Pansy agreed. 

“Did he still wear a turban?” Parvati asked.

“He did, a fancy green and silver one,” Millicent.  “Probably to suck up to the Malfoys a bit.”  She started snickering.  “And that wasn’t the only weird thing, now that I remember.  They were making this fuss about these new biscuits and Draco was trying to say he was responsible for them.”

“No way!” Parvati laughed.  “You’re kidding!”

“Yes way!  And I’m not!  Of course some of the adults were so ready to praise him, despite all of them thinking cooking is beneath them,” Millicent snorted.

“Gee, I wonder what brought that about,” Padma said with a sharp smile.

“Here’s the real question, how were they?” Lavender asked.

“They were okay,” Pansy said.  She smiled.  “Not as good as Harry’s, not nearly.”

“Well duh,” Lavender said and the five girls burst out laughing.

-0-

Despite how much he enjoyed flying, Harry was grateful when he landed.  The winter air howled, driving the chilling wind deep into his body and he shivered, hopping off the broom and landing into the snow.  He pushed his way through it towards the small group of people that landed and were congregating.

“Good show everyone,” Oliver said brightly.  He alone seemed relatively immune to the cold wind and snow, his cheeks pink from enthusiasm instead of just the cold air.  “Really good practice.”

“I s-swear, if-f you keep us out for much longer I’ll tie you to one of the goalposts and leave you out here overnight!” Alicia Spinnet said, glaring and shivering.  “And this better make up for our actual practice later!”

“Ye-yeah seriously,” Katie Bell said, teeth chattering.  “This is a bit much.”

Oliver took out his wand and incanted, drawing a large circle and tapping everyone in turn.  Harry relaxed a little, feeling the Warming Charm take effect.  The Charm helped a lot, but the winter’s fury would not be denied.  As if sensing the magic, the wind blew even harder.

“Maybe you should teach that to us too,” Angelina Johnson sighed, no longer hunched over but continuing to rub her arms and hands.  “Wish they taught that earlier in class.”

“I can ask Professor Flitwick,” Harry said shyly. 

“I forgot what year we learned it,” Oliver said.  “But good idea Harry and yeah, I’ll teach you lot.  It’s not that hard.  Right, let’s get inside and warm up.  Most of the rest of the Flying club didn’t show up.”

“I wonder why,” Alicia hissed sarcastically.

The Gryffindor Quidditch team and their regulars and the ones helping scattered more or less.  The Weasley twins and Ron and Ginny and Seamus and Dean broke off for the castle and the others drifted off in singles or small groups.  Harry helped Oliver put something away and followed him and the three Chaser girls walked with them.

“Feel free to use him as a very large shield,” Alicia said kindly to Harry.  “Let him break the snow in front of you and use his bulk as protection from the wind.”

“Hey,” Oliver said in a half-wounded tone.  “I’m not bulky.  Am I bulky?”

“You make a very good wind break,” Katie giggled. 

“But not because I’m bulky,” Oliver insisted.

“No you’re not bulky,” Angelina smiled, “you’re expansive.”

Oliver rolled his eyes as the three girls shrieked with laughter.  “Okay, I understand why you might not want to join the team, Harry.”

“I wish you would,” Angelina said frankly.  “You’re not bad on a broom and we could use a decent Seeker.”

“I like flying but I don’t think I’d be great at the game,” Harry smiled, feeling warm.  “I like helping you all during Flying club though.”

“I get it,” Oliver said kindly.  “You’re not passionate about it and that’s perfectly fair.  Heck, you’re really good at what you are passionate about so I’m not going to begrudge you.”  He winked.  “Especially if I can still benefit from it here and there.”

“What does that mean?” Katie asked.

“He made those biscuits for me and they’re darn tasty.”

“You made the biscuits?!” the girls exclaimed, looking at Harry in a new light.

He bobbed his head.  “Mmhmm, baked them here before school ended last term.”

“Those were amazing,” Alicia said.  “Some of the best I ever had.  Why did you give Oliver some?”

“Hey!  If he didn’t, I wouldn’t have had any to share!”

Harry laughed.  “Oliver’s been nice to me since we met and he gave me some good advice about electives.”

“We can give way better advice,” Angelina said.  “We actually have other interests aside from Quidditch.”

“No you don’t,” Oliver snorted.  “Don’t lie to Harry, especially for ulterior motives.”

“We’re not trying to take advantage of him,” Alicia sniffed.  “Just saying we’d love to offer an equal trade for his wares.”

“I’d pay for them,” Katie said.  “How much do you charge?”

“Oh, uhm, I never thought about selling them,” Harry stammered, put on the spot.  “I’ll have to think about it.”

“Put us down when you do,” Angelina said.  “I’d save my snack money to Honeydukes for them.”

The warmth from the praise really helped him stay warm as they plowed their way to the castle.

-0-

“Hey Percy?”

Percy looked up briefly, smiling softly at his little sister.  “Yes, Ginny?”

“Do you have any more of those biscuits?”

“I do not,” Percy said.  “They were all eaten.”

“Drat,” Ginny said glumly.  “They were really good.”

“Indeed.”

“Do you think you can get more?”

He gave her a look that made her squirm a bit.  “They were a gift,” he said mildly.  “One shouldn’t ask for more that was given as a gift.”  He went to back working on his essay.  “Besides, Potter might have some reservations giving more to us.”

“He gave them to you though,” she protested.

“Because I treat him politely,” Percy said.  “And I offered him advice for elective selection and he was being very kind to give me biscuits as thanks.”  He snorted gently.  “Do not give me that look.  I did warn you.  He is not how he is portrayed in those books and he is not completely like what your brothers have told you either.”

He sighed softly.  “You are your own person, Ginny.  If you want to be friends with him, be friends with him.  If you do not, then do not.  It is as simple as that.  But do not be friends with him to solely get something from him.”

“Are you friends with him?”

“I would hesitate to say friends, but acquaintances certainly.  Mutually friendly feelings I would say.  He is very polite and studious and he has good friends.”  He looked up at her.  “Do what you will, but do it well.”

“Okay.”

“Have you been keeping up with your homework?”

She rolled her eyes.  “Yes, mum,” she said.

“Please, if Mother was asking you, it would be a lot louder and more insistent,” he said with a small smile.

-0-

“Hmm, I may need to revisit my curriculum,” Flitwick smiled.  “Clearly, with enough motivation, people are willing to try and learn more difficult spells.”  The whole Household Charms club had unanimously voted to learn the Warming Charm and Flitwick of course willingly obliged.  It was a little trickier than they were used to, especially for Luna, but they were slowly getting the hang of it.

Neville was the only one not wearing his overrobe because he got a little overenthusiastic and nearly gave himself heat stroke.  Inky had brought in a little snow and was helpfully rubbing it into his bare arms and legs.

“Has no one asked you earlier before?” Padma asked.

“Not really, at least, not as a whole.  This winter has been a lot colder to be fair however.  Do be careful when casting it on your own however, case in point,” he said genially, referring to Neville.

“Are Warming Charms one of those annoying ones where it changes efficacy based on what exactly you are casting the charm on?” Padma asked.

“You should assume that to be the usual case,” Flitwick chuckled.  “The generic one can be cast on a person or on an object so for immediate relief, cast it on the person.  For sustained and general relief, casting it on clothing is better.”

“Can you damage clothes if you mess it up on them?” Sue asked.

“It will take considerable power to do so but yes, you can.  Eventually you will learn the charm that’s more appropriate for objects,” he explained.

“Wish we had some handwarmers here,” Lavender said. 

“What are those?” Millicent asked.

“They’re like little things you can heat up and carry around in your pocket.  When it’s cold, you hold onto them and they warm your hands and help you stay warm,” she said.

“They used to do that with potatoes,” Harry said.  “Bake them and make them hot and then wrap them in cloth.”

“Then you have a snack later, neat,” Parvati said. 

Flitwick chuckled.  “Hmm, the idea has merit.  I know certain stones can be used like that, like in a sauna.”

“Oh and bed warmers,” Hermione said.  “They were metal things you put in the bed to warm it up.  Or hot water bottles.”

The charms professor hummed softly.  “I think we have a new project to play with here.  Let’s do some experimenting!”  He had a conversation with Inky who popped away and returned with some small stones of different kinds.  The majority of the club clustered around him and watched as he began casting warming spells onto the stones and comparing the heat and the feel of them.

Pansy walked over to Harry who stood at the stove, stirring something slowly.  “It’s nice and warm here,” she said with a soft smile, standing beside him.

“Part of the perks of being by the stove,” Harry smiled.  “Sweltering in the summer but great in the winter.”

“What are you making?”  Everyone had eaten dinner in the Great Hall for once, having been warned by Flitwick they would need the energy to cast the Warming Charm.  They had jumped straight into that first thing and only now was Harry cooking something.  “I smell the usual biscuits.”

“Mmhmm, for snacking on.  I’m making hot chocolate,” he said.  “Thought we’d like that today.”

“That looks wonderful,” she said, staring at the smooth chocolate brown liquid heating up in the pot. 

“It’s easy.  Milk, cocoa powder, sugar, and some melted chocolate.”  He continued to slowly stir it.  “The important thing is to not let it boil or bubble over.  It can also scorch pretty easily which is why I’m constantly stirring.  “You can also mix in some other things like whipped cream on top if it’s too hot.  I also have a little vanilla and peppermint extract.”

He took a sample taste test from the small ladle.  “Mmm, perfect temperature and consistency.  How do you like your hot chocolate?”

“I’d be willing to try however you’d make it,” she said eagerly.  She watched as he warmed a cup with hot water and poured a few drops of vanilla and peppermint into it.  Then he filled it with steaming hot chocolate and stirred it gently with a thin spoon and handed it to her with a smile. 

She held the cup with both hands and took a sip.  She gasped with pleasure, feeling the hot chocolate flow down her throat and warming her up from within.  The smooth vanilla complimented the rich chocolate and the sharply sweet peppermint cut through the creamy richness perfectly.  Her eyes sparkled as she took another sip, huffing and puffing to cool her tongue.  “It’s wonderful!” she gushed.  “Just perfect!”

Her exclamation drew the attention of the others and they came around.  Soon everyone was sipping their own cups, humming with delight as they drank deep of the sweet hot beverage.

“That really hits the spot,” Parvati said, licking her lips.

“My insides are so confused,” Neville laughed.  “First super hot, then cold, now warm again.  This tastes great!”

“Mmm, I’ve never put peppermint in before, that’s a treat,” Sue said.

Hermione finished her cup, looking at the pot longingly.  “I’m not sure if I should have more.  My parents always said too much sweets are bad.”

“We won’t tell them and just clean extra well,” Lavender said and refilled Hermione’s cup, making the other girl smile and nod happily.

“I better get started on a second batch,” Harry said, seeing Inky and some other elves watching and waiting.  The elves gathered around, watching him make it from the beginning carefully with one of them writing out the measurements and the instructions with quill and parchment.

Flitwick smacked his lips.  “Splendid.  Like most things, a combination of actions yields the best results.  With the charm and this charming chocolate, I feel positively toasty.”  He finished his cup.  “May I have a cup to go?  There’s something I would love to try with it later.”

“Bad Professor,” Inky sniffed, waggling a finger at him.  “Trying to ruin Harry’s hot chocolate!”

“I’m fairly certain it wouldn’t ruin it at all,” he smiled back, chuckling at Inky’s huff.  “Worry not,” he said to a bemused Harry.  “I just want to add a dollop of something that strictly speaking, you shouldn’t be around until you are older.”

Harry laughed.  “Oh I see.  No problem.  Though I’ve been meaning to ask, some things need wine to cook with.  What am I allowed to get in regards to that?”

“Let me talk to the Headmaster about that,” Flitwick hummed.  “I do not want to establish a precedent.  Not saying you are not trusted, for I do, but you know how it is.”

“I suppose,” Harry sighed, smiling at Flitwick’s chuckle.

-0-

“Now that smells familiar,” Parvati said the next morning at breakfast.  She poured herself a steaming cup of hot chocolate and took a sip.  “Tastes familiar too!”

“Still not as good as yours,” Luna said stoutly as she sipped hers.

“Thanks,” Harry smiled.  “It’s not like I owned the idea or anything either though.”

“Still, I’ve had hot chocolate for years and yours tastes especially satisfying.”  Millicent took another drink.  “And this is close to but not the same.”  She looked askance at Luna who was dipping a rasher into her cup.  “Wow, how does that taste?”

Luna nibbled on her chocolate dipped bacon.  “I like it,” she said primly.

Harry smiled as he watched Hedwig mimic the girl, dipping her bacon into his cup before munching on it with a thoughtful expression.  “Well?” 

Hedwig shrugged and cheeped before eating more bacon.  Some she dipped the end of it into his chocolate, others she did not.

“Are owls allowed to eat chocolate?” Pansy asked.

“I’ve never not given her permission to eat anything,” Harry said.  “Unless you mean for health reasons.  In that case, I have no idea.  I haven’t seen her get sick, thank goodness.”

“I’m always impressed that she never gets food or stains in her feathers,” Lavender smiled.

“I don’t know how either,” Harry laughed.  “She’s really good about that.  Only gets her beak messy sometimes and then she’ll-yeah there you go,” he sighed when she fastidiously wiped her beak on his sleeve.

Her hooting sounded suspiciously like laughter, a laughter that the rest of the others echoed merrily.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

25^th Course – Turbulent Time

Dumbledore looked around the wreckage grimly.  The door to the classroom had been broken violently and shards of wood from broken chairs and tables and said door littered the ground.  He wished this was an isolated incident but it was not.  Ever since the second term started, finding broken things like this were becoming more common.

They have not found the culprit.  Each location was devoid of investigational evidence.  No signs of anything that could lend any kind of hint what or who was causing it.  And lately, not even students have escaped unscathed.  Some have been found nearby and each had been knocked unconscious in some way.  None remember seeing what did it.  Many cases they woke up as confused as the ones investigating.  Luckily their injuries were minor save for some loss of memory and bruises and scrapes.

Dumbledore waved his wand and the pieces of the tables and chairs pieced themselves together.  Not even Aurors had been successful at finding what was going on.  It was difficult, he would not downplay that.  Hogwarts was saturated with magic from ages and ages, so it was difficult to find things magically sometimes.  He had received letters from concerned parents and angry governors, demanding answers and solutions.

As if I do not want the same, he thought with some bitterness.

As he was walking away, he stopped, noticing something.  He bent over the recently repaired desk and touched something that gleamed.  He looked at the ink staining his fingertips.  With every student, and faculty, in the castle using ink and having their own bottles, finding drops and pools of ink was hardly new.  Yet this ink felt odd to him and he knew this particular classroom had not been in use for some time.

He wiped his finger clean with a spell and thought hard as he left the repaired room.

-0-

“Anything?”

Dumbledore shook his head.  “Nothing.  Well, one thing.  I found some ink among the wreckage but it is hardly anything to truly go off of.”  He looked at Remus worriedly.  “Should you be up and about?”

“I’m fine,” Remus said.  “I always look like this after the moon.  Besides, I’m your Defense professor and I need to help.”  He yawned and blinked owlishly.  “I’ve been looking through my notes and journals, trying to find anything that might help.  Sadly, nothing seems to jump out at me.  The damage is so mundane literally anything large enough can cause it.  We just don’t know how it’s getting around and where it’s going.”

The Headmaster sighed and rubbed his eyes.  “Well, we can only continue on and try our best.  And hope we get a lucky break.”

“You believe in luck?” Remus asked with a slight smile.

“When you have lived as long as I have and seen what I have, you have a very healthy respect for random chance,” Dumbledore said dryly.  “And from there it is easy to wish for good fortune and curse bad fortune.”

-0-

Remus dismissed his class and started to clean the blackboard.  Of course there was a spell for it, there was a spell for almost everything really, but he enjoyed using the eraser sometimes.  The simple physical motion was soothing to him and let his mind wander a bit as his body moved out of reflex.  Once he finished, he turned and smiled, seeing Harry waiting patiently.

“Hello Harry.  My apologies, I was lost in thought,” he said apologetically.

“No problem.  Just wanted to give you this.”

Remus took the small box and opened it.  “Brownies?  Why thank you, they look wonderful.”  He picked one up and bit into it.  “Mmm, delicious,” he said with a full mouth.  “Not too sweet and heavy, just right.”

“I remember one of your lessons said chocolate was good for shock and feeling better so I made some brownies for people,” Harry smiled.  “Especially with how things are.”

Remus took another bite.  “Very kind of you.”  His eyes narrowed.  “Is everything okay?”

Harry had looked off at a wall, frowning slightly.  Shaking his head slowly, he turned back to Remus.  “Yes Sir, thought I heard something.”

Remus looked at the wall too.  “I don’t hear anything.  What did you hear?”

“Sounded like whispering sort of,” Harry said slowly. 

“Perhaps a ghost flying through,” Remus hummed.  “Anyways, how have you been?”

“I’m fine.  Classes are fine.  People are a little nervous with all the incidents of broken rooms and people getting randomly hurt.”

“Are you friends with any that have been?”

“No Sir, thank goodness.”  Harry peered up at Remus.  “Forgive me for saying, you don’t look too great either.”

Remus smiled.  “Long nights.  I’ve been running the castle and helping with the investigation while grading.”

“And your usual illness?”

He nodded slowly.  “That too.”

“I hope you take care of yourself.  You need to,” Harry said.

Remus felt warm.  “I suppose I must if you say so,” he said.  “And with your cooking, I feel more empowered.  On your way Harry, don’t be caught out alone for too long.”

“Yes Sir.”  Harry waved and left the classroom but as he did, he was staring at the opposite wall.  Remus looked that way as well but saw, or heard, nothing out of the ordinary.

-0-

Harry walked swiftly down the hall.  These days, fewer people walked alone if they could avoid it.  Classrooms being wrecked and alcoves being damaged were happening more often and it made a lot of people nervous.  Harry had no real desire being out of the common room but he had left something in the clubroom and wanted to get it so he decided to go swiftly. 

Footsteps made him pause and he cursed himself for not bringing the invisibility cloak, so eager he was to leave and return, he forgot about it.  He thought about going back the way he came to be safe before voices could be heard.  He relaxed ever so slightly, recognizing them.

“I don’t believe you when you say this is a shortcut to the library.”

“I’ve been here longer than you have.”

“By one year!”

“Which is longer than you have!  If you have a problem with it, go on your own next time!”

“I tried to go on my own this time!”   

Ron and Ginny came around the corner, arguing like only siblings could.  The stopped when they saw Harry, flushing identically from mild embarrassment at being caught arguing like that.

“Hi,” Ginny said, giving Harry a careful look while Ron nodded coolly.

“Hi,” Harry replied.  “Heading to the library?”

“Yeah, she needs a book,” Ron said shortly.  “See you.”  He continued walking, gently pulling Ginny after him.

Harry smiled to himself and started to walk once more.  Suddenly he stopped, hearing something else.  It was just under the sound of the Weasley siblings starting to argue again.  It was low and menacing, like a voice that could just be heard but not quite, not enough to hear the words but the intent of what was being said was there.

“Wait,” Harry called after them, turning to follow.

Ron and Ginny stopped and looked at him.  “Why?” Ginny asked, interested.

“Don’t go that way,” Harry said.  The strange sound he could hear was getting louder.

“What, you think you know a better way to the library too?”  Ron snorted, disgruntled.  “I know where I’m going-“

“Shh,” Harry shushed, straining his ears.

“What is your problem?!  You told me to wait and now you’re trying to-hey!”  Ron snatched his hand back.  Harry had reached out and grabbed his and Ginny’s arms.  “Let her go!”

“Follow me, hurry,” Harry said, eyes wide and wanting to run.  The strange sound was getting closer and Harry finally could hear what it said.

“Must…listen.”

“Why?” Ginny asked, she turned to look behind them, where Harry was looking.

“If this is a joke, Potter, I’m not having it,” Ron said angrily.

“Targets.”

“We need to run,” Harry said, mouth dry from fear.

“What?”  Ron stared at him.  Ginny’s scream of fright broke him out of his confusion.  The door next to them shuddered as something very large and very heavy slammed into it from the other side.  The heavy wooden door splintered and cracked and a malevolent hissing filled the air.

“Run!” Harry shouted and pulled on them once more while turning to run down the hall, away from the cracking door.  Ron needed no other urging and pulled Ginny after him who had frozen with shock, staring at the breaking door.  After half-dragging her a few steps, her feet kicked in and she kept up with the running boys.

“Here!”  Harry pulled the clubroom door open and Ron pushed Ginny in ahead of him with Harry jumping in and slamming the door shut behind them.  He locked it and pushed the Weasleys into the far corner away from the door.

“What the bloody hell was that?!” Ron whispered; hugging Ginny close.  The girl was crying a little, hugging her brother tight.

“I have no idea but it sounded nasty,” Harry gasped, panting from them running.  “Shh!” 

The three of them froze as they heard something on the outside.  It sounded large and heavy, moving slowly and eerily.  Harry tried to listen for more words but none came, instead more of the slow sound of something being dragged over the stone.  It passed them and things fell silent.

“Inky, are you there?” Harry whispered.  A large crack made Ron shout and Ginny scream and Inky appeared. 

She goggled at the Weasleys for a moment before looking at Harry worriedly.  “Harry!  What’s wrong?!  Is it the bad elf?”

“I don’t know but I don’t think so.  Something broke through one of the doors down the hall and it chased us here,” Harry said.  “Can you get Dumbledore please?  And be careful!”

Inky nodded frantically.  “Inky will go!  Harry stay safe in here!”  She popped away, leaving the three children alone in the room.  Long moments passed, punctuated by frightened whimpering and thudding heartbeats before they heard someone at the door.

“Harry?  Are you okay in there?”

“Headmaster,” Harry sighed with relief.  He went to the door on unsteady legs and opened it, revealing a very worried Dumbledore standing there.  “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course.  Are you okay?  And are the others okay?”  He peered in and also sighed with relief seeing the Weasleys distressed but unharmed.  “Good thinking Harry.  I do believe the extra charms we placed on the room kept you from harm.  Wait here.  Flitwick is on his way to escort you three to the Infirmary.  I must check the room that the thing that chased you from.  There is a chance there is something there that will help us identify it.”

“Yes Sir,” Harry said.  He closed the door and sat against it, waiting for Flitwick to come.  After a moment he realized Ron had walked over, still holding Ginny’s hand. 

“Uh, thanks,” Ron said, face bright red and eyes wide.

“You’re welcome,” Harry said, still breathing hard.

“Sorry I’ve been a prat,” Ron muttered, looking away.

Harry blinked, looking at Ron with astonishment.  “Oh, uh, thanks.  I appreciate that.”

Ron nodded jerkily and they waited for Flitwick to arrive.

-0-

Dumbledore huffed softly.  The room, despite being a fresh scene, was still maddeningly devoid of evidence.  It had the usual wreckage of broken things but Remus and Snape had bent over some interesting spots and were examining them.  A letter in the shape of a paper airplane had flown into the room after a bit and Dumbledore was grateful to see it.  It was from Pomfrey and she was informing him that Harry, Ron, and Ginny had been checked and were none the worse for wear and were on their way back to Gryffindor tower.

“What have you found?” he asked as the other two men straightened.

“Ink,” Snape said.  “Fresh and different from the usual school ink.  Well, modified I would say would be more correct.  I cannot say in what way exactly, but it is different.”

“This is definitely an unused classroom,” Dumbledore said firmly.  “Look at the state of it aside from the broken furniture.  Plenty of accumulated dust.  Cobwebs everywhere.”

“Some dead spiders here,” Remus said.  “A lot actually and some look like they were torn apart or bitten or something like that.”  He showed them pieces of dead spiders.  “That’s not all, I found some blood.  I don’t know what kind though.  I’ll need to check it with a kit I have in my office and I’ll have Pomfrey double-check it.  I had hoped to see the tracks through the dust but they got disrupted when the thing broke out of the room.”

He rubbed his neck in thought.  “Looking at the pieces of the door, it hit hard from inside and broke its way through.  Somehow the jagged parts of the door didn’t catch anything.”

“How did it get in here,” Snape wondered.

Dumbledore sighed.  “Okay, this has gone on long enough.  I am going to have to do something I did not want to, but needs must.  Continue with your investigations, I am going to go talk to someone.”

“Who?” Remus asked.

“One of the only other people who were here when the Chamber was opened long ago,” Dumbledore said and left the classroom.

-0-

Dumbledore groaned.  “Hagrid, really?”

Hagrid shrugged sheepishly.  “I did say they made this part of the Forest their home,” he mumbled.

Dumbledore shook his head, looking at the forest of webbing that covered the trees and grounds of the Forbidden Forest.  “Hagrid, I appreciate your passion for magical creatures but I want you to promise me that you will speak to me before you bring any kind of magical creature near the castle again, native or not.”

“Yes Headmaster,” Hagrid said meekly, wringing his hands together.

Dumbledore had gone straight to Hagrid’s hut after leaving Remus and Snape.  The man knew that Hagrid did not like to think back to those years.  The boy had been a student and was doing his best but a string of bad incidents plagued him.  The boy had been struggling and his father had recently passed.  Then a girl had died and Hagrid already had a reputation for befriending odd magical animals.  In the absence of other evidence, the authorities had blamed Hagrid tangentially, resulting in his suspension from the school and his eventual expulsion.

Hagrid professed innocence, both his and the animal’s at the time, and Dumbledore had believed in him.  Dumbledore had kept tabs on Hagrid after he left the school and once he took over as Headmaster, offered Hagrid a job.  Now that things have come to a head, Dumbledore had politely but firmly insisted for Hagrid to revisit his memories and when he learned that the animal from that time was still alive and local, Dumbledore had gone looking for it.

Which led them to this webbed part of the Forbidden Forest that was honestly the stuff of nightmares.

Acromantulas, spiders the size of cars, crawled and skittered around them.  Light barely pierced the dark canopy of the trees and webbing above them and what little that came through made their many flat eyes glitter.  Their mandibles clicked and clacked, a menacing applause.  They surrounded the pair, looking at them hungrily.

“This is deeply unsettling,” Dumbledore said conversationally.

“They’re not that bad,” Hagrid protested.

“I admire your calm in these situations,” Dumbledore said, chuckling slightly.

“I can say the same, Sir,” Hagrid said.  He coughed awkwardly.  “Aragog!  Hey, Aragog!  Come out please, I need to talk to you.”

Dumbledore grimaced as the biggest acromantula he had ever seen, not that he had seen many before entering this part of the forest, crept forward.  This one was gigantic, towering over the others.  Its eight legs were thicker than some tree trunks, its body more like a train car than a regular automobile.  His hair stood on end when the acromantula spoke.

“Haaaagrrriiiiid,” it said, its voice long and slow and whispery, like silk dragged over stone.  “Hello Hagrid.”  Its mandibles clicked a few times.  “What is this?”

“This is the Headmaster,“ Hagrid said sternly.  “Professor Dumbledore.”

“Charmed,” Dumbledore said as pleasantly as he could.  “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Hagrid is safe to enter my domain,” Aragog said.  “You do not have that luxury.”

“Enough of that,” Hagrid said loudly.  “The Headmaster is a good man and he helped me a lot, he has.”

“Do not worry,” Dumbledore said, holding his hand up with the palm out, an expression of peace.  “I normally would never arrive unannounced but needs must.  Let me cut to the meat of things.  Were you responsible for the death of the student many years ago?”

“Never,” Aragog hissed and the surrounding acromantulas shared his indignation.  “I have never tasted the blood of man out of respect to Hagrid.”

“Do you know what did then?” Dumbledore asked sternly.

“I will not name it,” Aragog said.  “Its name is death among us.  It is our most hated foe among other magical creatures.  All spiders will flee before it.  I could sense it, like prey senses predator.  It dwelt below, away from where I was when Hagrid raised me in the halls of stone.”

Hagrid and Dumbledore looked at each other.  “Very well, thank you for your time,” Dumbledore said.  He and Hagrid began to leave, the acromantulas parting begrudgingly before them.

“Oh, one more thing.”  Dumbledore stopped and turned to look directly at Aragog and his brood.  “If I ever find one of you on the grounds even looking at one of my students, if I find that you have gone beyond your territory and are feeding on the other inhabitants of the Forest and the Lake, if I see a whisper of silk or hear a clicking of pincers where none should be, I will come back and deal with you all.”

The air pulsated with his magic and though he grew not in size or stature, his presence drove the acromantulas back.  “I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster and Protector of Hogwarts and her students and staff.  I will come and rain fire on you all and burn everything and apologize sweetly to Hagrid over the ashes and find him companions of a more suitable nature.”

Not a single acromantula moved, not a bristle, not a strand of silk, nothing.

“Do I make myself clear?” Dumbledore asked mildly.

The acromantulas said nothing but the ones closest, and farthest, backed off, climbing up the trees and hiding among the webbing and strands.

“Have a good day,” Dumbledore said pleasantly and walked off with Hagrid following beside.  After they left the web covered trees, he looked up at Hagrid.  “I do apologize for being so blunt.”

“I understand, Professor,” Hagrid sighed.  “It’s just nature, to warn others.  They can get a bit rowdy, don’t think they’ll chance it now though.”

“They better not,” Dumbledore said quietly.  The journey out of the Forest was mercifully quiet but when they walked onto the grounds, they found Snape waiting with a severe look on his face.

“Headmaster,” he said shortly, “we have trouble.”

-0-

He looked gravely down at the form on the bed.  Draco was petrified, frozen stiff.  If anything, he looked asleep, eyes closed and almost like he was dreaming.  Yet he was not simply asleep, stuck in magical stasis. 

Draco was not alone.  Crabbe and Goyle had also been found in a similar state.  The three Slytherin boys were in the Infirmary and Pomfrey, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and Remus were there.

“They were found on one of the upper floors,” Snape said.  Lying there.  One of the bathrooms flooded, the floor covered in water and they were lying close to it.  One of the ghosts found them and alerted Minerva who locked down the school.  I was about to come for you but saw you leaving the Forest so I waited.”

“How long have they been like this, do we know?” Dumbledore asked.

“Hard to say, but less than a couple hours by my guess,” Pomfrey said.  “Luckily, Remus already identified the state as petrification and Pomona already had some mandrakes just about ready.  She is harvesting now and we can brew the potion by day’s end.  The potion should be ready to administer tomorrow.  Hopefully we can then learn the culprit’s identity.”

“That may not be enough time,” Snape said.  “Lucius is already on the warpath and is on his way.  I had to inform him when we found Draco like this.”

“And what if there might be more victims before we cure them tomorrow,” Dumbledore mused.  He rubbed his face.  “I had thought we finally found a lead.”

“Your trip to the Forest?” McGonagall asked.

“Yes.  I spoke with the animal that Hagrid was caring for when the Chamber was opened during his time here.  It professed innocence and given that the boys here have no bite marks, not to mention webbing, I am inclined to believe it.  Not to mention that it was not here when the attacks happened.”

“Acromantulas do not petrify either,” Remus said.  “They paralyze and poison, certainly, but not petrification.”

Dumbledore rubbed his chin.  “The other thing it mentioned was that the thing responsible was the gravest enemy of spiders.  And that it dwelled below the castle.  It could feel the other animal, thing, or monster, whatever it is.”

“The enemy of spiders that is also magical?  The only thing I can think of is a basilisk,” Remus said off-handedly. 

All the staff stopped and stared at him.

“Surely not,” Pomfrey said, horrified.  “Aren’t they incredibly rare and incredibly dangerous?”

“Rare for the United Kingdom certainly, but I’ve come across a few in my travels.  Most were actually relatively docile if cared for,” Remus said.  “There’s a farm for them in Eastern Europe even and I know of others.”

“Their gaze is death, not petrification,” Snape said. 

“Unless interfered with,” Dumbledore said slowly.  “You said they were lying beside water?”  He continued when they nodded.  “Perhaps a reflection saved them.”

Pomfrey walked swiftly over to some vials and held one, casting a charm on it.  “The blood you found Remus.  It’s reptilian in nature.”

“There’s been a bloody basilisk roaming the school?!”  McGonagall looked aghast.  “Breaking all the rooms?  Can they get that big?!”

“They can,” Remus said uneasily. 

“How has it been going around the school?  Someone should have seen it slithering down the halls!” Pomfrey gasped, her voice sarcastic and terrified.  “How can a basilisk traverse the school unseen and unheard?”

“Not unheard,” Remus gasped.  “Harry!”

“How is Potter related to this?” McGonagall asked.

“I noticed him looking at walls recently, saying he could hear something like whispering,” Remus explained.

“And he said he heard something before he ran with the Weasleys,” Dumbledore said, connecting the dots. 

“He’s a Parselmouth,” McGonagall gasped.

“The plumbing,” Snape said, realization dawning.  “It was moving about using the plumbing and Potter could hear it.”

“I have been a fool,” Dumbledore said softly.  “Myrtle was killed in the bathroom, when the Chamber was opened last.  I never understood why, but if the monster from the Chamber is using the pipes, then there is a chance that the bathroom has a direct connection to the Chamber.  And if you account for all the flooding that is happening…”

He looked around.  “Remus, get Hagrid and Filius and meet me at the girls’ bathroom on the second floor.  Bring what you think you need to handle a basilisk.  You will be our expert since you have had the most experience.  Minerva, Severus, lock down the school and put the rest of the staff on guard with the Elves.  Keep the Prefects and the Heads inside their common rooms and watch over the rest of the students.  Pomfrey, start the process for brewing the potion and have Severus come to you when you get to the point that his assistance will be needed.”

“Where are you going?” Pomfrey asked.

“I am about to ask someone to do something they should not but unfortunately must,” he said heavily.  “And add another tally to my list of failures.”

-0-

Harry blinked at Dumbledore.  “I’m sorry, Sir, could you please repeat that?”

Dumbledore smiled a little.  “Of course.  I am asking you to do something rather dangerous for me and for the school.  I have reason to believe I know where the Chamber of Secrets is, and that Salazar’s monster is a basilisk which is a giant magical snake.  You, being a Parselmouth, I believe will help us in finding the entrance to the Chamber and possibly help us with the basilisk itself. 

“Now you will not be alone.  I, Hagrid, Professor Lupin, and Professor Flitwick will be with you.  Hagrid is an accomplished Hunter as you know as well as our groundskeeper.  Professor Remus has traveled the world lending his skills against Dark Arts and has dealt with basilisks as well.  Professor Flitwick is a duelist of note as well as many skills usable in dark places and tunnels while I have a fair array of skills and experience.”

He looked at Harry seriously.  “I know I ask much of you Harry and you have every right to refuse.  If you would be willing to indulge my selfish request, I swear to you, you will not come to harm, not before I and the others have suffered first.”

Harry felt his heart beat like it wanted to escape his chest.  He trusted Dumbledore and all the professors and Hagrid, but the idea of going down into the now infamous Chamber of Secrets terrified him, especially when he had the close brush to it just recently. 

He swallowed thickly.  “This basilisk is the one that’s been causing all the damage?”

“Yes.”

“It could hurt others, right?”

Dumbledore nodded sadly.  “It could.”

“What would happen if I don’t go?” Harry asked, hating himself for asking but wanting to know.

“A fair question.  We would try our best but I do not know if we would succeed in finding the Chamber and dealing with the basilisk would be much more difficult.  At the time, the only prominent Parselmouths in Wizarding Britain cannot be reached.  I have tried on the way to speak with you.”

“So I have to do this,” Harry said quietly.

“No, you do not,” Dumbledore said firmly.  “You always have a choice, Harry.  Most times it will be difficult and unfair, but you always do.”

Harry closed his eyes and thought about the basilisk coming after him again.  Coming after his friends.

He opened his eyes.  “I’ll do it,” he whispered.

Dumbledore felt incredibly proud of the boy as well as incredibly sad for putting him in this situation.  “You have my thanks Harry and once more, I swear no harm will come to you if I can prevent it.”

“Just remember if something happens, I can’t make tea anymore,” Harry joked feebly.

Dumbledore smiled and laughed, heartening Harry.  “Now that is extra incentive!  Come then, let us deal with this once and for all, together.”

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

26^th Course – Strange Consequences

“I don’t like this,” Hagrid said, his voice low.  “I don’t like this one bit.”

“I do not either Hagrid but unfortunately, we need his help,” Dumbledore said patiently.  “And I did not force him to come.  He came willingly, and that matters for a lot.”

“I don’t like this much either,” Flitwick said, reaching up high to pat Hagrid’s hand.  “But between the four of-,” he smiled at Fawkes’ warble, “five of us, we will keep him safe.”

“Alright then,” Hagrid sighed.  He hefted his immense crossbow.  “Let’s go Huntin’.”

The four men, the boy, and the phoenix, entered the girls’ lavatory.  After asking Myrtle to recount her experience, which the ghost did so with ghoulish glee, they looked around the bathroom.  Flitwick found a sink with the tiny snake engraved on the side.  After some attempts, Harry managed to speak parseltongue and the sink slid aside with a heavy grating noise, revealing a large yawning abyss into the depths of the castle.

Fawkes flew down first and returned, humming sprightly.  Hagrid went down first, sliding down a long damp tunnel and landed on his feet.  He looked about the gloom, brightened when Fawkes came down and the phoenix emanated a warm light.  “Clear!” he shouted, his voice echoing up the slide.

Remus came down next, landing lightly on his feet and his wand at the ready.  Flitwick slid down too and was at ease in the dark tunnel, his eyes peering about and his wand moving.  Dumbledore came down with Harry, standing in front of the boy protectively.  A sweep of his wand cleared them of grime and muck from the slide and they set off down the tunnel.

It was dark beyond the limits of Fawkes’ light and some lights summoned by the professors.  The walls were carved from stone and shaped well though unpolished and rough.  The floor was littered with small debris and mounds of dust and dirt and rock.  The atmosphere was dismal and cloying, almost as if the tunnel was trying to swallow them.

“This has only been recently come to use,” Flitwick said.  “There is debris and accumulation on the ground but there is a path recently cleared.  The air is still but not stale.  We must be deep into the foundations of Hogwarts itself.”

“How can you tell?” Harry asked, grateful that someone was talking and taking the edge off of the situation.

“I’ve spent many a time in tunnels,” Flitwick said knowingly.  “Family business.”

The tunnel bent and when Hagrid turned the corner, he shouted and knelt and pulled the trigger in one motion.  A heavy twang broke the air as the crossbow fired and there was a very loud and meaty thwack as the bolt struck home.

“Hagrid close your eyes!” Remus shouted and pulled hard on the giant man’s back, trying to pull him back into cover.  When no sound could be heard after Hagrid pulled back, Remus peeked out cautiously.

“What do you see?” Dumbledore asked, voice remarkably calm.

“Uh, I think it’s dead,” Remus said softly.

“Already?  Well shot Hagrid,” Flitwick said.

Remus smiled.  “I’m not saying it wasn’t a good shot, but I think it was already dead.”  They cautiously went around the corner and they gaped at the very large and very dead basilisk that laid there.  They eyes were glazed over in death and the giant fang-filled maw was parted open; the tongue lolled out limply.  The body of the basilisk was twisted all down its length.

“How long has it been dead for?” Dumbledore asked, frowning.

Hagrid reached out to touch the body.  “It’s very cold,” he said slowly.  “Not rigid, but I’ve never worked with a basilisk before so I don’t know if they seize up like other dead animals.”

“Typically,” Remus said slowly.  “But it also depends on how the basilisk dies and if it’s exposed to the elements and the like.”  He cast a few charms.  “I estimate it has been dead for a few months now.  The air here is very stable so perhaps it hasn’t had a chance to truly decompose.”

“Magic is rich here,” Dumbledore said thoughtfully.  “Perhaps it had a preserving effect.”

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Flitwick asked all of a sudden, making everyone else turn.

Harry looked uncomfortable, holding his head as if in pain.  His scar tingled and burned as well.  “Getting a headache,” Harry said.  He shook his head.  “I hear something.  Something talking.”

Dumbledore looked around.  “I might hear something very faint.”

“Hissing, that way,” Hagrid said, pointing past the body of the basilisk.

“What is it saying?” Dumbledore asked Harry.

“I can’t tell for sure, but it sounds really…mean,” Harry gasped.

“There’s a door,” Remus said.  He had crept down the length of the room, climbing over the tail of the dead basilisk.  He saw a very large metal door with snakes forged over the surface of it.  It was cracked open and the closer he got, the noise that was faint on the other side was louder.  It was a low but steady hissing and Remus imagined that it did sound mean somehow.

The others came close and Dumbledore peered into the crack for a moment before backing off.  “There’s a second basilisk within.”

“A second one?!” Flitwick gasped.

“Yes, but it is odd, it’s staring at something on the ground,” Dumbledore said.  “Here is what we will do.  Hagrid, at my command, throw the door open.  Filius, throw that distraction you have and cast your strongest shield charm.  Remus, be at the ready to cloud the air.  That will rob the basilisk’s death glare.  Fawkes, flash at my command and then stay on Harry to take him away as needed.  I will be ready to hit the basilisk if it comes to us.  Ready?”  When everyone nodded he looked at Hagrid, “Now!”

Hagrid pulled hard on the door and threw it open.  Flitwick threw a canister into the room and it exploded, filling the room with a blinding light.  They heard agonizing hissing and the sound of something large rolling back.  Remus and Dumbledore went into the room with their wands up. 

The basilisk, smaller than the dead one outside, was curled and coiled on itself, trembling from agony due to the blast of bright light.  Remus incanted swiftly, covering the basilisk with thick constricting ropes and created a haze that obscured the air.  Dumbledore saw the thing the basilisk was staring at and he waved his wand to summon the object closer.  It flew to him and he caught the book easily.

“That’s the source of the hissing,” Harry said, wincing and holding his scar.  “It’s saying all sorts of things like ‘listen to me’ and ‘I command you’.”

Dumbledore frowned at the book.  It was of nondescript size, like the size of a notebook or diary, though there was a large tear in the front cover.  As he tried to open it however, he felt magic building and he threw it away from him, standing in front of Harry and the others as he did.  The book burst into flame as it flew and it burned to ash before it landed.  When it hit the stone floor, the ashes exploded out, leaving nothing.

Harry sighed with relief.  The whispering hiss disappeared when the book did and the ache in his head and scar stopped.

“Look, the basilisk has calmed down somewhat,” Remus said.  When the book was destroyed, the basilisk had indeed calmed down and it laid there, shaking slightly.  Its tongue flicked in and out, tasting the air while it hissed.

“Should Hagrid finish it off while it is secured?” Flitwick asked.

“I know I should but I feel bad about it,” Hagrid muttered, spanning his crossbow and settling a bolt into the groove.

“We can’t have a basilisk living under the castle,” Flitwick argued.

“She’s in pain,” Harry said softly, looking past the adults into the Chamber.  “She doesn’t feel well.”

The adults turned to look at him before looking at one another.

“She did calm down once the book was removed,” Remus said slowly.

“The book was making me feel bad,” Harry said bluntly.  “It was doing the same to her, I’m pretty sure.”

“Albus,” Flitwick warned.

“We must try Filius,” Dumbledore said.  “This is not as straightforward as it seems.  Harry, try and communicate with her please.  Ask her not to use her gaze on us and we will not harm her in turn, unless absolutely necessary.”

Harry nodded.  He took a deep breath and hissed.  The effect was instantaneous.  The basilisk calmed down and her head turned to them.  The adults quailed for a moment, starting to retreat out of the Chamber and their wands came up.

“No it’s okay!” Harry said hurriedly when the basilisk hissed back.  “Her gaze only kills when she wants to and she said she won’t.  She also said she still can’t see anyways because of the light earlier.”

“Ah yes, uh, apologize for me I suppose,” Flitwick said, a trifle embarrassed.

“She says she accepts and promises not to bite you when her sight returns,” Harry said with a smile.

“Harry, please ask her what she knows of what has happened the last few months,” Dumbledore said.  They waited while Harry and the basilisk conversed with Remus clearing the haze.  Harry had entered the Chamber and crossed over to the basilisk without much trepidation when the basilisk proved to be friendly.  The adults followed and Remus, Hagrid, and Flitwick marveled at the terrible splendor of the Chamber of Secrets while Dumbledore waited patiently, his eyes focused on Harry and the basilisk.  Fawkes sat on Harry’s shoulder, glowing slightly, and his own eyes focused on the basilisk carefully.

“She said she woke up not too long ago,” Harry said at last.  “She’s young but not sure how old she is, all she’s known is down here.  The book woke her up and it would force her to do things, constantly commanding her and wearing her down.  It could even hurt her if she tried to ignore it,” Harry said sadly.  He gently patted the basilisk’s side and the immense serpent made a pleased noise, inching closer to Harry.

“Does she know what happened to the other basilisk?” Dumbledore asked.

“She said the book commanded it to kill itself,” Harry said, his voice shaky with shock.  “And the book said she would be forced to do the same if she disobeyed it.”

“Monstrous,” Flitwick gasped.

“Does she know who the book belonged to?  And how it got here?” Dumbledore asked, hoping for a good answer.

“The book claimed it was the property of the Heir of Slytherin,” Harry said.  “She doesn’t know how it got here.  One day she woke up to it yelling at her and it drove away the rats and other things down here so she was very hungry and desperate.”  He patted her some more and the basilisk crooned softly. 

Dumbledore huffed with disappointment.  “There must have been a delayed charm on it,” he mused.  “To destroy itself if someone it did not want touching it interfered.”

Remus smiled softly when Hagrid handed Harry some jerky from one of his coat pockets and Harry fed the basilisk.  The snake delicately took the dried meat from the boy and swallowed the pieces greedily, hissing for more.  “That hints towards an involved plan and plot.”

“Yes, and it bothers me,” Dumbledore sighed.  “At least we know what caused Myrtle’s death and was causing the damage now.  Harry, does the basilisk know why she attacked the three boys?”

“She had to, she was commanded by the book.  She didn’t want to,” Harry insisted.

“I actually believe her.  People are coerced by dark forces all the time.  Why not a basilisk,” Dumbledore mused.

“Headmaster, she didn’t mean to,” Harry said.  “We’re not going to kill her, are we?”

Dumbledore sighed softly.  “I do not want to, truth be told.  The problem is, there has to be some form of closure and while we believe you and her intentions, I do not believe others will.”

“As if others have not claimed to be controlled against their will,” Remus said sourly.

“And those same people will claim that a wizard and a basilisk are two different entities and they are not entirely wrong,” Dumbledore retorted.

“Can’t we just blame the dead basilisk?” Harry asked.

The adults looked at each other.

“And hide the existence of this one,“ Flitwick said slowly.

“Technically the old one did kill someone and got Hagrid expelled,” Remus said, growing warmer to the idea.  “We bring up the dead one, said that we had to kill it…”

“…and then let it take the blame for the troubles now.  Justice for Myrtle, for Hagrid, a life saved, and the opportunity to try and figure out what happened at our leisure.”  Dumbledore nodded.  “I like it.”  He smiled when Hagrid and Harry sighed with relief and the basilisk sighed too, growing limp as tension leaked out of her.  “She cannot stay here however.”

“I don’t think she wants to,” Harry said.  “She’s cold and lonely.”

“Transporting basilisks is very difficult and slightly illegal,” Remus said.  “We cannot do it properly if we are keeping her existence a secret.  We need someone with the skill and the casual disregard for laws to be willing to do it.”

“I know just the man,” Dumbledore smiled.

-0-

Dumbledore walked back into his office.  “Well, it is done.”

“Just like that?” McGonagall asked.

“More or less.  The governors and Director Bones accepted that the dead basilisk was the perpetrator of the attacks then and now.  The basilisk is going to be broken down and proceeds from selling the pieces will be given to Myrtle Warren’s family, the Malfoys, the Crabbes, and the Goyles for recompense with the remainder going back to the school.”  He sat heavily at his desk and poured himself a measure of firewhiskey, drinking it with one swallow and pouring himself more.

“And Lucius was okay with that?” Snape asked quietly.

“Curiously, he was.  He threw a fit and the governors were sympathetic, but he surprisingly did not press for more.”  Dumbledore smiled slightly.  “Though he did have something not go his way.  When he summoned his House Elf for something, the poor thing was set upon by Inky, Quarters, Ebbers, and a few other Hogwarts Elves.”

“Really?” the others in the office gasped.

“Oh yes.  As it turns out, Dobby really was responsible for the incident involving Harry last term.  The second he appeared, Inky appeared as well and tackled him to the ground, rather violently too.  The others appeared ready to secure him and tried to inflict some harm.  They were none too happy with Dobby’s antics before and had sworn vengeance.  He was forced to confess and Lucius had to dismiss Dobby from his employ to save face.  That probably tempered his humors to an extent.”  Dumbledore rubbed his temple.  “It has been a strange and trying day.”

“Did this Dobby explain why he did what he did involving Harry?” Flitwick asked.

“He said that he believed the boy to be in danger and Lucius refuted that Dobby probably misunderstood something and took it wildly out of context.  Even Dobby said that was ‘possible’ but since Lucius took matters into his own hands, no actual investigation can be done since the ‘perpetrator’ was ‘punished’.”  Dumbledore shook his head.  “Not entirely satisfying, but an end I suppose.”

“Overall, things ended well enough then,” Remus said slowly.

“Yes and there is still a bit of good news.  Hagrid was completely exonerated for what he was charged with back then.  His record is wiped clean.”  He smiled and the other professors shared his delight.  “I sent him a message and we plan on celebrating later if anyone would like to join.”

“I’ll prepare some sobriety potions,” Pomfrey snorted.

“This book however, it bothers me,” Snape said.  “How did it get here and who did it belong to?  Who is this so-called Heir?”

“That is the big question,” Dumbledore mused.  “At least we know where the Chamber is now and we can investigate it at our leisure.  Hopefully we can figure it out.”

“And Potter is still allowed to go with the basilisk still there?” McGonagall asked.

“He wants to,” Dumbledore smiled.  “He feels bad for the basilisk and she enjoys his company.  At least until- ah speaking of.”  A small lidded vase on his desk shook and he took the lid off and withdrew a slim roll of parchment.  He read it and he snorted richly, handing it to Snape when the man held a hand out.  “Do feel free to read it aloud.”

“’Albus,’” Snape read, “’I will of course come and claim the basilisk!  I have always wanted one and my estate in France has ample room for one.  Not to mention one of my neighbors has been terrible lately, letting their dogs crap all over my grounds.  Let’s see if he will let his precious pooches keep doing that when I stack their petrified bodies on his yard alongside the piles of excrement.  I will arrive the day after this letter arrives unless it is delayed and in that case I will arrive before it does.  Seeing how I helped devise this method of communication, it really shouldn’t be.’”

Snape rolled his eyes.  “The man’s arrogance and self-satisfaction is nauseating.”

“You have not gotten to the best part,” Dumbledore smiled, sipping at his firewhiskey.

“’I’ll be bringing my transporting suitcase, you know, the one that Scamander stole the designs for.  Perenelle will be accompanying me this time so prepare for that.  Finally, if Snape is reading this or you are reading this to him, loosen up a bit and learn to live a little you-“ Snape growled and threw the parchment onto the desk, ignoring the snickering from the other Professors.  “I do hate that man.”

“He does have that way with people,” Dumbledore chuckled and poured Snape a drink.

-0-

“I guess the only way to get your attention in the future is to be petrified,” Draco said snidely.

“Don’t even joke about that,” Pansy snapped back.  “I was worried when it was announced and the second the lockdown was lifted, I came here.”

Pansy had been shocked to hear that Draco had been petrified, as well as Crabbe and Goyle.  She had waited, her stomach twisting and roiling, and went straight for the Infirmary when they were allowed to.  She had sat with Narcissa while the potion was administered and felt relief when Draco responded well to it.  Narcissa had visited for some time before leaving to speak with Lucius.

“I suppose I should thank you then,” Draco said, slightly mollified.

“What happened?” she asked.

He shrugged.  “Like I told everyone.  Crabbe, Goyle, and I were walking.  We heard something and looked down at the flooding water, then we woke up here.  No idea what happened.”

Pansy looked at him closely.  Something about him was bothering her.  The Draco she knew would always exaggerate any kind of injury.  Before, he did it to amuse people but it steadily became a way for him to gain attention.  Now, after being petrified and attacked by a large magical monster, he seemed a little too at ease.  “I’m glad you weren’t hurt,” she said, meaning it.

He shrugged carelessly again.  “I knew it would not have been bad.”

That bothersome feeling increased.  “How so?”

He grew guarded.  “I just knew,” he said evasively. 

She looked at him silently.  “What aren’t you telling me?” she asked.

“Many things,” he replied frostily.  “Perhaps if we were still close, you would know.”  He sneered slightly.  “I do not have to tell you anything just like you do not have to tell me anything about your other ‘friendships’.”

She sat back, stung.  “Okay,” she said quietly.

He looked cross, unexpecting this response.  “When you are like this, I don’t know what you want me to do,” he said.

“Neither do I,” she replied.

Lucius and Narcissa walked back into the Infirmary.  Lucius looked oddly pleased and displeased somehow.  Narcissa looked more displeased.  “Draco,” she said, “did you command Dobby to bother Harry Potter?”

“No,” Draco said sharply.  “Though if I thought of it, I mi-“  He immediately stopped speaking at the combined looks from his parents.

“You might have delayed dismissing the elf before we could question it,” Narcissa said to Lucius, her cool tone at contrast to her burning eyes.

“I had to, to save face in front of the Head of the DMLE and the other school governors,” Lucius retorted.  “Besides, it's just an elf.  We can obtain others later, more obedient ones.”  He looked at Pansy who sat there quietly.  “Miss Parkinson, perhaps you would give us time to speak as a family.”

She knew the request was more of a command.  “Yes Lord Malfoy.”  She bowed politely to him and hugged Narcissa.  “Bye Draco.  I’m glad you’re okay,” she said softly.

“Goodbye,” he said.

She left the Infirmary and thought hard as she did.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

27^th Course – Impression

“You are beautiful,” Nicolas praised, looking at the basilisk.  “My my.  The basilisks I’ve seen were very large and very old.  You are very young, there’s a startling difference.  You know, I have a potions book with so many things that need basilisk reagents and I’ve been meaning to give those a try.  Now we can work on that together.  How fun!”

The basilisk blinked slowly at the alchemist before turning her head and hissing to Harry.

“What is she saying?” Nicolas asked eagerly.

“She wants to know if she can bite you,” Harry said.

Perenelle Flamel laughed brightly.  She too had that same oddly youthful yet aged feeling that Nicolas exuded.  Her hair was a warm red threaded with grey and her eyes the same grey hue, but her motions were still energetic and her smile bright.  “I like her,” she said warmly.  “Can she bite without using her venom?”

“Yes,” Harry said and the basilisk nodded.

“Then she can bite him if he gets overly bothersome.  I do it myself when I feel the need to.”

“I love my wife,” Nicolas said proudly, much to everyone’s amusement.  “So you can understand us when we speak English?”

“She can, she just doesn’t speak it obviously,” Harry said.

“What fun!  I have an apprentice that is a parselmouth so we can communicate easily enough that way but now I am going to devise a way for us to communicate on the regular.  A new project!  I’ve never thought about it before but now that I am, this will be fun too!”  Nicolas clapped his hands like a schoolboy faced by a new game.

“He is very strange,” the basilisk hissed.

“I think he’s nice,” Harry said, patting her soothingly.

Nicolas set a large leather suitcase on the ground and opened it.  Harry gasped with delight when he peered into it and saw a long staircase going down.  “Now this is a traveling case,” Nicolas explained.  “Plenty of room within and it is nigh-impossible to try and detect the contents within without our,” he pointed at Perenelle and himself, “consent.  I modified the interior to have a nice jungle and a nice cave and even a desert.  All very warm for our reptilian friend here.  I’ll leave it here for you to explore at your leisure and you can come out if need be and any changes that need to be done will be done.  Tonight you’ll get used to it and tomorrow we’ll leave for your new home.”

The basilisk nosed around it and nodded approvingly.  She looked back at Harry plaintively and hissed some.

“She wants to know if I can visit her in the future,” Harry said, touched.  He rubbed her snout and smiled when she crooned with pleasure.

“Of course!  Either you come to us or we bring her to you,” Nicolas said brightly.

“You cannot bring her back so easily,” Dumbledore sighed.

“Oh then you come to us.  It’ll be nicer in France anyways,” Nicolas said, waving a hand.  “It’s warmer and brighter and everything is better than this cold and dreary land of bad alcohol and terrible music and appalling fashion.”

“What did you say?” McGonagall said, hands on her hips.

“I said, it’s warmer and brighter and everything is better than this cold and dreary land of bad alcohol and terrible music and appalling fashion,” Nicolas repeated, speaking slowly and loudly while smiling broadly at the irate Scotswoman.  “Are you having trouble with your hearing?”

“Although they do not seem it, they are old friends,” Perenelle chuckled comfortably to a wide-eyed Harry as Nicolas and McGonagall started arguing loudly.  They left the Chamber, without the basilisk of course, climbing up a set of steps that Dumbledore had found to spare them levitating up the slimy slide.  “I could use something to eat and drink to chase the feelings of that place away.  It is incredibly dismal down there.”

“An understatement even for the English,” Dumbledore snorted.  “Come, we already have the plans laid for a very pleasant meal to recuperate.”  He led the others in following Harry and they arrived at the clubroom.  As the adults: Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, Nicolas, and Perenelle sat, Harry pulled on his grey apron and started working.

“The boy cooks?” Nicolas asked, watching with mild interest.

“Indeed.  He was the one we were going to visit when you last visited before that bit of misfortune happened,” Dumbledore said.

“Ah right, the trolls.”  Nicolas looked serious for a moment and leaned forward.  “I did some testing and it was what we thought, the amount of magical power needed to burn through my tar concoction has to be considerable.”

“Hmm, thank you for confirming that,” Dumbledore mused.

“Something about that is strange,” Flitwick said quietly.  “I have dueled with Quirrell before and while talented, his magical strength does not approach that.”

“Unless he was hiding it,” McGonagall said, “which would be concerning in its own right.”

Harry was used to ignoring conversations around him while cooking.  He learned early on to not join in on conversations with the Dursleys, especially ones that concerned him.  He let the talk be a pleasant background noise, letting it slide into that state where it was more background noise.  He removed some prepared pie crust he had made earlier and rolled it out a little before gently draping them into pans.  He then poured baking beans into them and placed them into the over to blind bake.  While they did, he beat eggs together until smooth with heavy cream, salt and pepper.

Bacon sliced into lardons were cooked until crisp and separated into two piles.  Slices of potatoes were par-boiled and set aside and one portion of lardons were added to sliced onions cooking in the pan with the remaining bacon fat.  Salt, pepper, and thyme were added before he layered the mixture with the potatoes and more cream.  He put some slices of thick cheese on top and slipped the pan into the oven as well as the pie pans filled with the beaten egg and the other lardons.  While they baked, he sliced cherry tomatoes and shallots and cucumbers and mixed them with a vinaigrette with mixed greens he tore by hand.

“In any case, it happened on the surface, it seems all is well,” Dumbledore said.  “We would be wasting time and energy thinking of what ifs and whys.”

“And you said a book was controlling the basilisk?” Nicolas asked.

“And potentially the other one,” Flitwick said.

“Hmm, there are plenty of examples in history of magical tethers and controls of magical creatures through different objects,” Perenelle said.  “Unfortunately, some have been quite dark.  Also unfortunately, not exactly limited to any one society or culture.”

“Indeed.  Well, now that the Chamber is open, we can do some investigating and research.  I already have a list of people that Gringotts wishes to send in to examine things,” Dumbledore said.  “And there is space for you two of course.”

“We will return eventually,” Nicolas said and Perenelle nodded.  “After we get the basilisk situated and comfortable of course.  Hmm, I suppose we should ask if she has a name.  Calling her the basilisk over and over is a bit rude.”

“Speaking of a bit rude, where’s Severus?” Perenelle asked, eyes dancing with mischief.

“Officially, he is busy,” Dumbledore laughed.  “Unofficially, he said it would be a cold day in hell before he willingly partakes in a meal with Nicolas.”

“What, the dungeons are not cold enough as it is?” Nicolas sniffed and the others laughed loudly.  “You know, it’s more your fault than mine.”

“That is low even for you, blaming your wife,” McGonagall scolded.

“Actually, he is not completely wrong,” Perenelle giggled.  “Last time I visited, I kept talking to Severus in helping setting him up with someone in an attempt to have him live a little and he was rather offended I believe.  Then he found out that I was Perenelle Flamel and he got even more dour, somehow.”

“I always wondered why he disliked you,” Flitwick chuckled.

“Perhaps he is jealous of our friendship mon ami,” Nicolas sighed dolefully.

“Why do you only say that to Filius?” McGonagall asked.

“When I told him that I had a different heritage once, he assumed I meant French,” Flitwick smiled.

“In my defense,” Nicolas started while the others howled laughing, “it fit the description!  Acting like a Frenchman surrounded by English, and Scots.  Beset at all sides!”  He held up a finger and opened his mouth to say more but suddenly stopped and his head turned around swiftly.  Perenelle’s reaction was the same as his.  She sat up and turned and looked to the side, eyes opened with astonishment.  So swift their reaction, the other three gaped for a moment.

Harry had opened the oven and took out the pans and was gingerly taking out the pie pans to cool on metal racks, proud of the golden-brown crusts, the set sun-bright custard, and the bubbling cheese.

“Surely not,” Nicolas breathed softly.

“My word,” Perenelle said just as softly.  “Is that a tartiflette?” 

“Yes Ma’am,” Harry said as he carried the heavy cast iron pan over and set it down in the middle of the table.  The cheese bubbled and burbled still, fragrant steam filling the air as the potatoes and cheese and onions and bacon dish looked incredibly inviting.  “Also quiche Lorraine and a simple salad.  Inky got some baguettes too from a French-style bakery.”

“How…how did you come across this?” Nicolas asked, gesturing at the tartiflette and looking directly at Harry.

“I’ve never had it actually,” Harry said.  “But the Headmaster asked if I’d be willing to try and make it for you and Mrs. Flamel as thanks for coming to take the basilisk to a nicer place and taking care of her.  He described the dish to me and I figured it was a lot like a gratin and I could make a decent attempt at it.”

“A decent attempt?” Perenelle repeated incredulously.  “It smells incredible and looks just like it should.”

Harry smiled with bashful pride.  “Thank you!  I couldn’t get any of the traditional cheese, reblochon?  But the person I sent Hedwig to suggested camembert as a replacement, said that it was close enough as a soft cow-milk cheese.”

“This is a very traditional dish for people that live in the Alps,” Nicolas said.  “Specifically close to Annecy, a small city high up where Perenelle and I are quite fond of.”

“I hope you like it,” Harry said.  “I’m sorry if I don’t get it quite right.”

“My boy, if it tastes half as good as it looks and smells, you will have succeeded,” Nicolas said seriously.  He watched as Harry served everyone a portion of the steaming dish and he took a small bite, blowing air on the still steaming hot potatoes a little.  It was everything he remembered it to be: soft potatoes absorbing the molten cheese and sweet pungent onions adding their flavor.  Bits of bacon were meaty and salty and the pepper and thyme made the creamy filling savory.  “Mon dieu,” he sighed.

“You have never had this before?” Perenelle asked.  “Truly?”

“No Ma’am, but I’ve had potato gratin before and it sounded very similar.”

“Do not call me that.  You may call me Perenelle or Penny if you wish,” she smiled.

“You can call me anything you want if you feed me food like this,” Nicolas said as he chewed blissfully on a large bite of quiche.  “This is incredible!”

“Oh my,” McGonagall gasped.  This was the first time she had Harry's food that was not a biscuit.  “This is wonderful, Potter!”  She glared at Flitwick and Dumbledore who did not even try to hide smug proud smiles.  “And you two have had this before?!”

“Not this exactly but his cooking?  Yes,” Flitwick said as he happily chewed.  “Perks of running Household Charms.”

“I have never gotten the hang of making this myself,” Perenelle said as she ate the tartiflette with enthusiasm.  “And believe me, I have tried for many years.  This tastes so much like the real thing.  In fact, there’s that little café on the lakeside by the north point.”

“Yes!  That one!  I thought it tasted like it.  If you had the reblochon, it might be it exactly.”  Nicolas looked at Harry seriously.  “You, young man, have a gift.”

Harry flushed.  “I don’t think so, I just like to cook,” he mumbled with embarrassment.

“I think so,” Nicolas insisted.  “Young man, I am very old.  I have traveled the world and I can still remember all the times I had a French dish that tasted good and was not made by a Frenchman.  I could even write it down with unerring accuracy, each and every time.  And you, this,” he pointed at the tartiflette, “would be on that list.  And not at the bottom.”

“Oh wow, thank you Sir,” Harry stammered.

“Nicolas or Nicky if it pleases you,” Nicolas corrected gently.  “Or crazy old bastard even.”

“I called you that one time, the very first time we met and you have never let me forget it,” Dumbledore groaned, making Nicolas and Perenelle laugh while McGonagall looked shocked and Flitwick snorted.  “Can you not let the past go?”

“Never.  I am a very petty man with plenty of time to carry a grudge,” Nicolas said airily.  They ate the quiches and tartiflette, doing them full justice.  “I could eat more,” he said sadly, looking at the empty plates.

“I have plenty of ingredients, I could make some more,” Harry said, wiping his mouth on a napkin and rising.  “If you don’t mind waiting.  I was going to save one of each for my friends but there should be enough to make another.”

“I don’t mind in the slightest!”  He and Perenelle drifted to the kitchen side of the room to watch with the other three following.  “You look like a professional.  You’re rather young to be a professional.  How old are you?  Eighteen?  Seventeen?  A bit scrawny but the English are always lacking in stature.”

“I’m twelve,” Harry smiled while Dumbledore gave Nicolas a look.

“Only twelve and you can cook like this?”  Perenelle asked. 

“I grew up cooking,” Harry said as he started slicing potatoes and onions.

“Clearly, and you are quite good.  It shows,” she smiled.  “You have a very gentle touch.  With this and the basilisk.”  She looked at him thoughtfully.  “You were rather gentle with the serpent.  Were you not afraid?”

“I was, before we met her,” Harry said as he sliced the bacon next.  “But then after the book burned and she and I talked, I felt bad for her.  She was alone in the dark, cold and hungry and scared.  I know what that’s like.”  He was engrossed in his task and missed the look the adults exchanged.

“What the hell are you doing to the children here?” Nicolas hissed quietly.

“Not me and I do not care who you are, accuse me of that again and I will take you out back,” Dumbledore hissed back, quite angry.

“Quiet children,” Perenelle scolded in a quiet voice and plastered a smile on when Harry looked up at the sudden awkward not-quite silence.  “Do not worry, Harry, we will take good care of her.  She will be happy in France.”

“That’s good,” Harry said with relief.  “I don’t think she’s bad, really.”

Nicolas leaned onto the preparation table.  “Actually, Harry, may I call you Harry?  Actually, Harry, I see you and the basilisk have a bond.  Perhaps you would like to come to France with us?  Madame Maxime, she’s the Headmistress at Beauxbatons which is an excellent French magical school, would love to have you.  They even have a cooking class if I recall?” 

He smiled when Harry looked up with interest and pointedly ignored the looks Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Flitwick were giving him.  “And if they do not, then we can make one!  How does that sound?  France is so wonderful and not to mention the culinary capital of the world.  Surely it sounds much better than being here, no?”

Harry laughed a little.  “It sounds nice, but I like being here.  My friends are here and my parents were students here.”  He looked a little wistful.  “I want to be here for a little longer.”  He grew shyer.  “I can still visit though, right?”

Perenelle’s heart melted a little.  “Of course, Harry.  You will be welcome, always.”  They watched and chatted easily as the second quiches and tartiflettes were made and once again did the food due consideration as they ate their fill.  “This was one of the finest meals I have had in recent and not-so-recent memory,” she smiled easily.

“We will leave the room to you,” Dumbledore said.  “So you and your friends can convene here.  Despite the trouble ending, I feel better with you in the room with more protections.”

Nicolas extended his hand and shook Harry’s.  “You and I are now friends.  You need only get word to me, and I will do my best to assist you.  All I ask from you is more of your exquisite cooking and you will have to tolerate me, but I think that is an easy enough trade, yes?”

“Be careful before you say yes, Potter,” McGonagall said ominously.

Harry grinned.  “I told the basilisk that I think you’re nice, and I do.  Thank you very much.  You and Mrs. Flamel, I mean P-Penny,” he corrected at her stern look, “are very nice to cook for.  Thank you.  Actually, may I ask something of you?”

Nicolas heard his request and roared with laughter.  “You are a kind fellow, Harry.”  He did as asked and grinned.  “Well, we will see you in the morning to make sure our basilisk friend is comfortable.”  After they helped to clean, they left, not speaking until arriving at Dumbledore’s office.  “Albus, that boy is a treasure,” he said.

“I know,” Dumbledore said, sitting at his desk and pouring glasses of wine.

“No, I mean it,” Nicolas said.  “He has never had the dish before and makes it that well?  With only some practice?  You can tell he cares and that kind of care and kindness is few and far between.”

“You could taste the sincerity,” Perenelle said.  “He wanted it to taste good and made it for us for our pleasure and comfort.  That is a rare gift.” 

“Like I said, I know,” Dumbledore said quietly.  “I am grateful for his presence here, and his assistance.”

“And what was that nonsense about what he said?  I do not like it at all,” Nicolas said, his face serious.

“I do not know and I hope to learn,” Dumbledore sighed and drank.  “He has said some strange things like that and I hope to get to the bottom of it.”

“See that you do,” Perenelle said.  The five of them drank silently.

“Oh-ho,” Nicolas said out loud, drawing their attention.  “Is this what you meant last year?  That your coming years would possibly make a good show at the International?”

“It crossed my mind,” Dumbledore nodded.

“Really, you think so?” Flitwick asked, intrigued.

“I would agree,” Perenelle said.  “That sort of talent, showcased properly, would draw the eyes of many.”

“We cannot ask that of Harry,” McGonagall protested.

“Not now, but in time, with proper support and training and education, I think he would do well,” Dumbledore said.

“I would agree to that,” Nicolas said.  “I will put in a word like I said I would.  Next time I see Drake, I will put a word in his ear and send him this way.”

“Oh yes, I think he would enjoy visiting and meeting Harry,” Dumbledore said agreeably.

“Good.  Sooner the better.  This sort of thing takes time and we can get things rolling.”  Nicolas sipped his wine.  “Besides, it will give us a reason to stay somewhat locally in France and to pop by for visits every so often.”

“Poor Harry,” McGonagall said sardonically, huffing at Nicolas smiling cheekily at her.

“Perhaps you can play the role of doting grandparents,” Flitwick chuckled.  He sobered a little.  “He does not have any and he could use the attention and affection.”

“Done.  I am awful at knitting but I can get better at it,” Perenelle said with conviction.  “Plenty of time and now I have the inclination.”

-0-

“I can’t believe you went into the Chamber of Secrets and confronted a basilisk!” Lavender shouted.  “Two even!”

Harry rubbed his neck sheepishly.  “I mean, I had to.”

“No you didn’t!” Lavender, Padma, Parvati, and Pansy shouted back.

“I was the only Parselmouth near!  They needed me,” he said indignantly.  “And the Headmaster said he tried to get another and they couldn’t be reached.”

“That is not your concern!”  Pansy crossed her arms and looked at him severely.  “You had no reason going down there and putting yourself in danger!”

“It’s bad enough you had that brush when you saved Ron and Ginny,” Parvati argued.  “Why would you go down there?  Willingly?!”

“Well I felt like I had to,” he said mulishly.

“Why?” Padma asked.

“I just thought about the basilisk attacking any of you and I didn’t want that,” he said quietly, looking away.  “I wanted to stop it before that could happen.”

“Oh,” Pansy said quietly.  She deflated, her righteous indignation escaping her.  Everyone else did the same, their upset feelings slowly leaving them, punctured by Harry’s sincerity.

“That was very brave of you,” Hermione said quietly.  “And very good of you.”

“It was easy to feel brave,” he said with a weak smile.  “I was with Hagrid and the professors and the Headmaster.  And Fawkes.”

“You still went down there,” Millicent said.  “That’s incredible.  Just hearing you describe all that makes my skin crawl.”

“By the way, were you allowed to tell us all this?” Neville asked.

“I wasn’t told I couldn’t,” Harry shrugged.

“I’ve always wanted to meet a basilisk,” Luna said softly.  “Can I meet the nice one with you one day?  She sounds nice.”  She missed the way the other students were looking at her.

“I’ll ask the Flamels.  They’re nice too and a lot weirder.”

“Look, let’s just be grateful that everything got solved and everyone’s okay,” Sue said pragmatically. 

“I guess, but I’m still upset at you,” Lavender said rebelliously, glaring at Harry.

“Will something new help?” he asked, opening the oven and sliding out two quiches and a large tartiflette onto the table.  The others exclaimed with delight at the sight and the smells.

“Ooh, it might,” Parvati said.

Lavender rolled her eyes and sighed.  She hugged Harry hard.  “Just, try not to do something like that again, please,” she whispered.

“I’ll try,” he said, hugging her back.  He sliced the quiches into pieces and the friends tucked in, eating eagerly.

“Oh, this is very good,” Pansy said, fanning her mouth.  “I’ve been to France a few times and this tastes as good as any I’ve had there!”

“Yeah same,” Hermione said with a large smile.

“It’s nice learning something new,” Harry smiled as he ate too.  “Oh and I have something for you and Padma.”  He reached into his bag and took out two pieces of parchment and handed them to the two girls.

“Signed autograph from Nicolas Flamel!” they cried together.

“You two are such nerds,” Parvati said, rolling her eyes.  She shrieked when Padma pushed her and Hermione kicked her stool, the combination knocking her to the floor.

The others ate and laughed as the irate Parvati chased Padma and Hermione around the table.  Harry watched them fondly, grateful that he was able to make this happen, the happy moment eating together and keeping them safe. 

Together in the warm sunlight, far away from whispering books and dark Chambers.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

28^th Course – Lettered Concern

“Boy!  What’s the hold up?”

“Almost done,” Harry called back through gritted teeth.  He continued to stir the sauce in the pan, tasting it for seasoning, and sprinkled in a pinch of salt.  “I just wanted to make sure it’s good since it’s for Aunt Marge.”

“Leave the boy be,” Marge Dursley said from the dining room, her disdain for Harry plain.  “It’s all he’s good for anyways.”  She said something more quietly and the Dursleys roared in appreciative laughter.

Harry continued to stir the sauce, trying to ignore them.  He had known what to expect when Marge’s visit was announced.  She was a very opinionated woman and was not shy in making her opinions known, especially to the one she was making the opinions of.  Even more so when said opinions were quite rude.

She had never liked Harry and it was mutual.  She used to set her dog on Harry before he became the full-time cook, delighting in giving Dudley gifts and giving Harry nothing but harsh words.  When he became the cook, she would constantly criticize his efforts and decry his cooking as fit for dogs. 

Which never stopped her from cleaning her plate before, he thought rebelliously.  Guess that makes you a dog too, at least a kind of one.

The summer with the Dursleys was going as well as Harry expected it to.  The second he returned from Hogwarts; he was expected to make up for not being at Surrey for the whole year.  Party after dinner party was thrown, almost several times a week, and Harry had to purchase, prepare, and cook everything as per usual.

Luckily, he had been able to practice here and there while at school and his skills were still sharp.  He was able to do his homework and personal reading during the day and keep up with that.  This time, no one interfered with his post so he regularly wrote to his friends and delighted in receiving letters from them in turn.

He smiled a little, thinking about the end of the school year.  With the closure of the Chamber of Secrets and bringing a basilisk to justice, the end of the year was fairly normal.  There was the rush to prepare and study for final exams and like the last year, they met as a group and studied together while he was still able to cook and eat with his friends.  Consequently, he earned very good marks and was high up there in the class rankings, something he was proud of.

At the end, there was a bit of a shock.  Dobby had appeared and he was going to be employed at Hogwarts, receiving pay and clothes that he wanted.  He had apologized to Harry for his actions in ‘helping’ him.  The apology was earnestly, and nervously, delivered because Inky, Quarters, and a few other House Elves had accompanied Dobby and held him at implement point essentially.  They were still very furious with him for what he did.  Inky told Harry later that he would be under close eye if he tried to approach Harry with Quarters making a vague reference to smashed knees while waiving his swagger stick threateningly. 

The others had given Dobby some strange looks and Hermione had been drawn into a debate at how House Elves were treated and how they thought, something Luna, Sue, Millicent, and even Neville had gotten into as well.  Pansy had looked at Dobby strangely and later said it was odd to hear what he did having known him somewhat from childhood.  In the end, Harry was grateful for his friends among the House Elves and while he ‘forgave’ Dobby, he certainly would not forget the odd elf’s idea of helping.

Harry sighed, no longer able to ignore the snide complaints coming from the dining room.  He finished the sauce and poured it into a sauce boat and put it on a tray.  He then put the steaks he had resting on their plates and added a few stalks of asparagus and a spoonful of roasted potatoes to each plate.  A basket of rolls was put on last and he carried it all to the dining room. 

“About time,” Marge complained when he appeared.

He said nothing and served everyone a plate of food and left the basket and sauce boat in the middle of the table.  “The chocolate cake is ready for pudding,” he said when Vernon opened his mouth, cutting him off.  “I finished it earlier and I frosted it already.  Dark chocolate and rum, Aunt Marge’s favorite.”

“Very good,” Vernon said with what he thought was a dignified air. 

Harry turned to leave but was stopped by Marge’s words.  “What’s wrong with the sauce?”

He turned back, looking at her.  “What do you mean?  It’s mushroom and onion, made with the fond from the steaks and red wine.  You liked it last time.”

“Don’t get smart with me, boy,” she said angrily.  “It tastes off!  Are you trying to poison me?  Or make something poor on purpose?!”

Harry’s eyes narrowed.  “I have never wasted food or made anything bad on purpose,” he said, his voice shaking.

Petunia’s eyes widened as she noticed the glass beside Marge’s hand shaking as well when it had no reason to.  “Now now, it may not be the boy’s fault entirely,” she simpered.

“And why not?  He made it!” Marge argued.

Vernon noticed the shaking glass as well and he coughed hurriedly.  “Maybe the product wasn’t up to the usual standards.  Where did you get the groceries boy?”

“The new store, like you told me to,” Harry said stiffly, trying to calm down.  The glass stilled as his breathing became slower and more measured.

“There, probably substandard stuff,” Vernon blustered.  “I’ll complain to the manager later.  And we’ve had to suffer with poorer red wine lately so I’m sure that has an impact, right?”

“Yes Sir,” Harry said coolly.

“I would think you’d know how to pick a better wine since you think you know how to cook,” Marge said snidely.

Harry squashed the rush of heat in his stomach.  “I’m not allowed to drink alcohol due to my age,” he replied thinly.

Dudley all of a sudden looked nervous and shot Harry a hateful glance while Marge snorted.  “What an excuse, avoiding responsibility.  Much like your drunkard father I suppose.  Bad genetics there, it’s a wonder that Dudley turned out so well.  Petunia was the lucky one.”  She gave a start when the glass cracked audibly and fell into pieces, the water within spilling out.

“Clean that up,” Vernon ordered, eyes wide and staring at Harry.  “Then set the cake out with plates and you can leave for the night.”

“Yes Sir,” Harry said coldly.  He grabbed the dustpan and swiftly swept up the broken glass and left a cloth to soak up the water.  He brought out the cake and dessert plates and forks and went back to the kitchen.  He piled the leftovers and small portions he made for himself and Hedwig and left, ignoring the return of conversation from the Dursleys.

He put the tray of food down on his desk in his small room and sighed, angrily wiping at his eyes.  He sat down and held his head in his hands, as if he could block the sound out from below by covering his ears.  After a moment he put a finger into the sauce and tasted it.

“Does it taste bad?” he asked himself.  He took small bites of everything and sat back, feeling troubled.  He sat there, thoughts running rampant in his head, and only looked up when he heard hooting.  Hedwig came fluttering through the window and dropped a pile of letters onto the desk.  She looked at him carefully, tilting her head before she waddled close and started nuzzling his cheek.

“Hi,” he said gratefully, hugging her.  He smiled when she cheeped lovingly and bit his nose gently.  “Did you have a good flight?”

She bobbed her head and pointed at the small pile of letters with a wing.

“Aww, thank you,” he said, happy to see them.  He filled her food dish with a good amount of everything and smiled as she started eating, her tail feathers wiggling back and forth with delight.  “Say, does anything taste off to you?”

She looked at him seriously and shook her head emphatically.

“Are you sure?  You’re not just saying that to spare my feelings, right?” he asked, worried.

She narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head firmly.  She tilted her head questioningly.

“It’s what they said,” Harry muttered, pointing down.

Hedwig made an angry noise and mooned the direction of the dining room moodily.  She opened her beak wide and made fake retching noises and kicked with one leg.

“Thanks,” he smiled, catching her meaning perfectly.  “I know you wouldn’t lie to me.  I’m just, well, you know.”

Hedwig rubbed her head against his and playfully headbutted him before she stole another bit of steak from his plate and went back to eating with noisy enthusiasm. 

Feeling a little better, Harry ate too.  He still was not completely sure if everything tasted like it should however, and it bothered him more than a little bit.  He looked at the door when it shook from knocking.  “We’re heading out for the night boy,” Vernon said, his voice muffled by the closed door.  “Clean the mess in the kitchen before we return.”

“Yes Sir,” he said dully and waited for them to leave, hearing the front door close and the car start and fade away into the distance.  Instead of waiting, he decided to clean first and went and did so.  He gathered the last of the leftovers, including a bit of cake, and brought it back up.  He refilled Hedwig’s dish and patted her back as she munched on the seconds happily.

He sat there, lost in thought for long moments before he felt Hedwig pushing an envelope into his face, the corner of the letter poking him in the cheek.  He snorted and smiled at her, taking the letter and opening it. 

Hey Harry!

Hope you’re doing okay!  I know we just wrote to you but we wanted to test something and it worked!  One of our aunties knew this handy spell to transfer writing from one thing to another and we tested it with the wax tablet and parchment and this is it.  Isn’t it neat?!  Padma wrote the letter on the tablet first and we pressed the parchment to it and cast the charm and it appeared here.  Now you can transfer writing things so much easier and faster!  We’ll teach you when we see you again.

Everyone in the family loves the tablets now too, after learning this charm.  Everyone is practically getting one and we told everybody that it’s all due to you since you gave Padma the first one.  I hope I get a nicer one from someone sometime soon…

Can you have any more shame?

Yes.  You have the lion’s share of shame which is ironic because you’re a Ravenclaw.

Harry, I should teach you the charm first.  When Parvati attempted it the first time, she set the parchment on fire.  Luckily we were using auntie’s tablet and also luckily it wasn’t damaged.

Hey Harry, one of our cousin’s friends is sweet on Padma and it’s super awkward and super funny and-

I am going to kill you!

And it’s in writing!  That’s a written threat!  Harry will avenge me if I don’t show up at school!

There were a lot of scribbled out words and blots and messy scrawls here that made Harry smile.

She bit me!  Harry!  She actually bit me!  Act your age!

We are the same age!  Harry, I know you’re an only child, but would you like a sibling?  I have one for sale, very cheap.

You’re cheap!  I’m telling Mum!

She actually kicked me and is off tattling on me!  I can completely understand if you do not reply for some time out of sheer embarrassment.  Hope you are doing well. 

Sincerely,

Padma

And Parvati!

Harry smiled brightly, feeling his spirits lifted.  He had gotten used to the Patil sisters’ brand of fighting and arguing and to be honest, he was a bit jealous of their closeness.  They still cared deeply for one another and loved each other, that was plain to see.  The lengths they go to annoy each other, even Padma despite her protests, was also impressive and Harry liked watching it.

He pulled out some sheafs of parchment and unstopped an ink bottle, smiling as he started writing.

Hey Padma and Parvati!

That charm sounds amazing, can’t wait to learn it.  I really like writing on the tablets in the kitchen and stuff, so much nicer not having to worry about ink and things around food.  I’m sure Parvati will get better with the charm by the time we meet.  If she practices of course.

I’d feel bad only buying one of you so I’ll just stay good friends with the both of you.  And good to know, I don’t have to think as hard about gift shopping this year for Parvati.  That will make things easier. 

I’m doing okay.  Keeping busy as you know.  I did manage to finish my homework already.  That essay about the International Confederation of Wizards was actually kind of interesting.  I had no idea just how big the Magical World was and what they all do.  I actually read more about it after finishing the essay, Padma’s influence, I’m sure.

Your friend,

Harry.

He set the letter aside and reached for the next one.  He saw the impeccably neat handwriting and instantly knew who it was from.  He opened it and started reading eagerly.

Hello Harry,

I hope you are doing well.

I am briefly back in England for only a short while.  Summer is the time where my parents travel to their international business holdings and I go with them because I am learning and because they do not trust me to ‘fend’ for myself for a long period of time.  Which is galling because I am the eldest child and therefore the most responsible.  That said, I like travelling so my point is pertinent but is also moot at the same time.

I thought of you while we were in France.  We had a quiche Lorraine and all I could think was that yours tasted better to me.  Nothing was wrong with the one we had at all, I preferred yours however.  When I asked for the recipe, I was rebuffed.  Something about trying to steal it and they got more upset at me when I said I had a better one elsewhere and I simply wanted it to be a point of comparison.

My Father thought that was amusing and did not scold me for my lapse in etiquette though he has asked me where I had the better quiche.  I told my parents about you briefly; I hope that is okay.  My Mother said that she might ask for it one day to see if it was worth insulting the chef.  I apologize if you’re forced to make one for such a silly reason.

Millie says hi and Sunny says meow.  The beast has finally stopped trying to claw my things but she still enjoys biting me, the creature.  Sunny, not Millie if you needed the clarification.  Millie is less amused than I am for the clarification. 

Your friend,

Pansy

Harry grinned as he penned a reply.

Hi Pansy,

Thank you for the letter.  Say hi to Millie for me please and meow back at Sunny.  I’ll make sure to ask Millie and Sunny if you meow too.

That was really nice of you and of course I don’t mind making one for you to send back.  I’m glad you didn’t get in trouble over it.  I’ve managed to make it a couple of times here for a dinner party.  It’s weird.  The Dursleys don’t really like French cooking but French cooking is seen as super fancy and high class and that’s what they want too so they’ll allow me to make it for certain dinner parties and that’s it. 

From what you’ve told me about some Society things, I bet you can understand.

I’m doing okay otherwise.  Finished my homework and am keeping busy.  Haven’t had the opportunity to learn anything new but maybe I’ll get to go to a bookstore soon and pick up a cookbook or something.  I hope you’re doing well too.

I’m glad you’re enjoying your traveling and I hope you get this letter before you leave on the next one. 

Your friend,

Harry

“You don’t have to go out again so soon,” Harry said when he noticed Hedwig looking at the finished letters eagerly.  “You can rest and go tomorrow or the next day.”

She sniffed at him, looking at him and rustling her feathers.

“I know you take your duties seriously,” Harry grinned and scratched her head.  “Just saying, no rush at all.”

She hooted and nodded before pushing the next letter to him.  He smiled when he recognized the cheery handwriting on it. 

Hi Harry!

How are you?  I hope you’re doing okay with your other aunt visiting.  She sounds unpleasant and hopefully it’s not too bad. 

Thanks for the quiche recipe!  We tried it here and honestly, we made a mess!  It was lumpy and the crust was terrible but my sisters and I had fun trying.  I’ll have to learn it from the beginning with you when we go back to school.  But we’re visiting Grandmum soon and she’s good at baking and cooking so I’m going to show her the recipe and see if we can do it better with her.

Oh and I have to tell you that Daddy got scared by Hedwig again!  She came flying in and she walked up super sneaky like, climbing up the arm of his sitting chair and stood on it and stared at him until he lowered the newspaper and noticed!  He shouted and kicked and the whole chair went falling over!  We all thought it was hilarious!

“Why are you bothering Mr. Brown?” Harry asked Hedwig.

She shrugged in a clear ‘why not’ sort of way.

“Be nice to him,” Harry smiled, rubbing her belly.

Don’t worry, he still likes her even if he thinks she’s cheeky.  Which, she is to be fair.  Clover and Marigold love her of course and so does Mum.  They’ve asked Mum and Daddy if we can get an owl and they’re thinking about it. 

I better finish my homework too.  I just have to do the ICW essay too.  Thanks for telling me what chapters to look at.  I normally would leave it to last minute but between you and Padma and Hermione, I guess it’s better to do it sooner rather than later.  Daddy’s proud that I did most of it already too.  Have you to thank!

Miss you.  Hope you’re doing okay.

Your best friend after Hedwig,

Lavender

Harry sighed softly, finishing the letter.  He enjoyed reading it and hearing from Lavender as well as the others.  The letters were nice little bright spots while he was at Number 4.  It made him feel a part of things when he felt so isolated while in Surrey.

Hi Lavender!

Hope you’re doing well! 

Please apologize to your dad for me.  I tried to ask Hedwig to be nicer but she just shrugged at me.  At least you all find it entertaining and not bad.  You’re right, she’s very cheeky.  In fact, she waggling her tail feathers at me right now.

I’ll be happy to make the quiche with you from start to finish when we get back to school.  It’s not that bad.  Shortcrust is a little tricky but you’ll get it, I’m sure.  It’s easier than that fancy and lovely embroidery you do.  If I can roll out the crust, then you certainly can.

I already finished my homework and did some extra reading if you can believe it.  There’s not much to do here, save homework and cook.  There’s been so many dinner parties and things that I panicked a bit thinking I might not have time to finish my work.  Thankfully I did so I can just read what I like and practice cooking things.  I haven’t had the chance to make anything new but maybe I can try something one day on my own. 

I miss you too.  I’m glad you’re enjoying your time with your family! 

Your best friend after Parvati,

Harry

A sudden burst of fire and light made Harry shout but Hedwig only sighed and rolled her eyes.  Fawkes appeared and trilled a greeting, dropping a folded bit of parchment into Harry’s hands.  The phoenix looked around the room with interest, waving a wing at Hedwig who returned the gesture calmly.

“Hi Fawkes,” Harry greeted, patting the bird on the head.  “Surprised me a bit.  Would you like to eat something?”  He grinned when the phoenix began eating from Harry’s plate and opened the parchment to read it.  “Oh, the Headmaster wants to visit tomorrow?  And take me out for the day?  That’ll be nice.”  He wrote a reply and gave it to Fawkes.  After a goodbye trill, Fawkes disappeared in another flash.

“Hmm, I better go make food for the Dursleys tomorrow,” Harry said.  He hummed softly as he poked about the fridge and decided on what to make for lunch and dinner while he was not there just in case.  “I wonder why he’s visiting,” he mused to himself.  He smiled as he worked.  It would be the first time he had a visitor looking for him for once, not counting Dobby of course.  At the very least, it would be a pleasant distraction.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

29^th Course – A Good Day

Petunia’s eyes popped open when she opened the door and saw the man standing there.  He was dressed in a very nicely cut suit of plum purple, a fashionable outfit in an unfashionable color.  Eyes twinkled brightly behind moon-shaped glasses and he smiled genially.  “Petunia, it has been some time.  Nice to see you.”

“You!” Petunia nearly shrieked, stopping herself at the last moment in an attempt to avoid drawing attention.

Dumbledore's smile remained genial.  “Me,” he agreed.  “I must say, your flowers seem to be flourishing.  Not an easy thing to do with such temperamental plants.”

“What are you doing here?” she hissed, looking up and down the street, hoping that no one was peering out of the windows at the man and his flamboyantly colored clothes.

“Picking up Harry for the day,” Dumbledore said.  “Surely he told you?”

“He did but he didn’t say why,” Petunia gritted out.

“Most likely because I did not tell him why exactly.  If anything, I would think you would know.”

“Why would I know?” she asked, genuinely confused.

Dumbledore’s smile faded slightly, becoming sad and bitter.  “Hmm.  Perhaps you will remember when we return.”  His smile bloomed when Harry came to the door.  “Ah Harry, good to see you.”

“Hello Sir.”  Harry grinned.  “Nice suit.”

“Thank you!  As you know, I adore brighter and richer colors and I must admit, a well made suit is just as impressive as fitted robes.  Are you ready?”

“Wait, how long will you be out again?” Petunia asked.

“Do not worry,” Dumbledore said, “I will bring Harry back this evening.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” she snapped.  “What are we supposed to eat?”

“I already made lunch and dinner.  You just have to pop it into the oven and it’ll be done,” Harry said quietly.

“Oh, alright then,” she said, no longer concerned.

Dumbledore gave her a cool look before he shook his head.  “Come along then Harry, let’s not waste the day.”  He nodded slightly to Petunia and walked down the lane with Harry and continued down the street beside him.

“Where are we going Sir?” Harry asked, seemingly happy at this change in his daily routine.

“To Diagon Alley,” Dumbledore said warmly.  “I am taking you to a restaurant to celebrate the day.  It is a very nice magical restaurant and I know you have not had the opportunity to experience a meal in the Magical World before.”

“Thank you, Sir!  What are we celebrating?”

Dumbledore stopped and stared at Harry.  “Please tell me you are kidding,” he said seriously.  “It is your birthday, is it not?”

“Oh!”  Harry flushed.  “Uh, yeah, it is.”

“Harry,” Dumbledore said sorrowfully.

“No one ever made a fuss about it before,” Harry said quietly, sheepishly.  “I sort of forgot.  The only exciting thing that happened before was my letter first year.”

Dumbledore closed his eyes and muttered something low and under his breath before opening them.  “Then let us make a proper fuss of it today.  Come along Harry.  You have experienced Elf Apparition correct?”

“Yes, last year.  When Inky took me past the barrier at King’s Cross.”

“Excellent.  Take my arm.  Magical Apparition is more or less the same.”  When Harry took his arm, Dumbledore turned and Harry once more felt like he was being squeezed through a tiny tube and forced out the other side.  He landed heavily, gasping for breath and felt the world spinning around them.

“Do you ever get used to it?” Harry asked as he shook his head.

“Most do, eventually,” Dumbledore chuckled.  “For some, they never do and never quite like that form of travel.  It can be a bit hazardous if done untrained or carelessly.  You become splinched.”

“That sounds unpleasant.”

“It is, you leave parts of you behind.”

Harry grimaced.  “So very unpleasant.”

“Yes though it is repairable if done so in time and one a nonessential body part.”  Dumbledore chuckled at Harry’s look. 

When the swirling sensation subsided, Harry followed Dumbledore out into Diagon Alley proper.  Harry always loved visiting the magical district.  He had learned that the main street of the place was called Diagon Alley when it was created.  For a while that’s all there was.  As time passed, the Alley was expanded bit by bit.  Additional roads and alleys and streets broke off the main Alley and a large magical district grew and grew, making it the premier central place to shop and get things in all of London and the surrounding areas.  Many magicals from around the country would travel to London so they could obtain things more easily and more cheaply at Diagon, not to mention some of the pillar stores like Ollivander’s and Madame Malkin’s being at Diagon.

Harry noticed that they were walking onto one of the nicer side streets.  He looked down at his clothes and while they were the nicest he had, they were still a bit worn for wear.  “I’m afraid I might not be dressed appropriately,” he said weakly.

Dumbledore smiled at him.  “Do not worry overmuch.  You are with me and I promise you, more people will notice me before they do you.”  He and Harry laughed together.  “Besides, the establishment is not so exacting on dress code as long as you come dressed.  You brought your school robes, yes?  Excellent, those will suffice if need be for the formal aspect.”

“I thought Wizarding Britain didn’t care too much for cooking and restaurants really,” Harry said as they continued to walk.

“As a whole, not really, which is a shame.  Most establishments are your smaller eateries and taverns or specialty shops like Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour.  There are fancier restaurants that cater more to the Society crowd and they are usually started and ran by foreign magicals that have created a place dedicated to their craft.”

“So they’re okay with foreign magicals that come here to start a restaurant, but look down on ones that want to make one and grew up here.”

“Succinctly summarized.”

Harry huffed.  “That’s pretty stupid.”

“I agree,” Dumbledore smiled. 

“That’s also a part of looking down at British food and liking some of the food from other countries because it’s fancier or nicer somehow?”

“Yes, which is also pretty stupid,” Dumbledore chuckled.  “Ah, here we are.  Harry, welcome to Sheen.”

Harry goggled when he looked at the restaurant’s front.  The front of the place shone.  Every surface gleamed in the sunlight, almost painfully so, reflecting light and image like a mirror.  Despite the stonework looking like stone, it shone like metal.  “The name looks like Shine.”

“And it is pronounced slightly differently,” Dumbledore said with a wry smile.  They approached an immaculately dressed man who thankfully was not shiny like the surroundings.  “I had a reservation for two today.”

“Really?”  The man gave Dumbledore and Harry a considering look, like one inspecting something for defects and blemishes.

“Really,” Dumbledore replied almost blandly.  “Albus Dumbledore, and guest.”

The man’s attitude changed immediately once he checked the appointment book.  “Ah, of course Master Dumbledore!  Forgive me, I was expecting someone more dressed like one of us.”

“A simple mistake, I am sure.  Hopefully it does not reflect the rest of the experience,” Dumbledore said coolly, making Harry blink with surprise.

The man colored and gasped theatrically.  “Of course not!  A simple mistake as you said.  Please, follow me.  Your table is waiting for you and your guest.”  The man led them into the restaurant, footsteps quick and nervous.  The interior of the restaurant was thankfully a scaled down version of the exterior.  The floor was mirror bright but not painfully so, the walls and pillars smooth and gleaming softly.  While it was not quite lunch time, most of the tables were filled and the guests were dressed in expensive looking robes.  Some gave Harry and Dumbledore irritated looks, before some recognized who Dumbledore was.

They were seated in a quiet corner without any tables nearby.  Dumbledore waited for the man to leave before winking at Harry.  “Forgive the attitude, Harry.  Sometimes, one must play the part when expected to.”

Harry smiled back.  “No problem Sir, it was just a surprise is all.”  He hesitated.  “This place looks awfully expensive-“

“Worry not,” Dumbledore said, kindly but firmly.  “Today is my treat for your birthday as well as a thank you for your services last school term.”

“Oh, uh, thank you, Sir,” Harry said, embarrassed but happy.  “That’s very kind of you.”

Dumbledore’s smile was a touch sad.  “You deserve it, Harry.  I took the liberty in ordering a special multi-course meal showcasing the chef’s talents.  How does that sound?”

“Brilliant!”  Harry took a moment to look about the restaurant.  He noticed that most of the food was brought by floating trays without anyone carrying them.  Looking about more, he saw a witch standing at where he assumed the kitchen was.  She took the food from the back and placed them on engraved metal serving trays and would direct them to their designated tables with flicks of her wands.  When a guest needed to speak with someone, a well-dressed staff member would walk to their table.

“Where is the chef from?” Harry asked.

“France.  He also went to Beauxbatons.  The school Nicolas mentioned if you recall.  Ah, speaking of, I was asked to pass along a message.  They returned to their estate in France and everything went well.”

Harry smiled.  “That’s great!”

“Indeed!  Everything was done correctly on their end and the basilisk is a protected entity on their land and is safe.  She also seems to be enjoying the grounds and she prefers a forest to sand and cave.  She especially likes the sunlight,” Dumbledore said.  “They have also established a rapport through one of Nicolas’ apprentices that is also a Parselmouth.”

He chuckled.  “Nicolas has only been bit once so far.”

Harry laughed.  “As long as she didn’t use her venomous bite, she did have permission.”

“True and she did not.  She has also accepted the name Blinky, bestowed by Perenelle.”

“Aww, that’s cute.”

“I agree.  Nicolas thinks it lacks a certain gravitas but seeing how she likes it, he has no room to speak.  Especially considering he could write a memoir accurately titled ‘Lacking Gravitas’.”

A tray came floating towards them and Harry looked on with excitement as two plates floated before them, settling on the table.  A single flat bottom spoon sat on the plate and it contained a piece of fish that was cut and grilled.  A foam sat on top and a garnish of long green stems sat delicately on the foam. 

When he ate it, he was surprised.  The foam, while looking light and airy, was actually incredibly dense somehow.  It tastes strongly of lemon and citrus, just shy of being overly sour.  The fish was cooked well, and the lemon foam was pleasant on top and the entire bite was far more substantial than it originally appeared to be.  Chives provided a sharper green contrast to the delicate fish and the not-so-delicate foam.

“An interesting application to a Bubble Charm,” Dumbledore said as he ate his.  “Or perhaps the Foaming Charm, when you create a bubble from something instead of creating a bubble on its own.  That would make more sense, given the taste.”

“It’s very rich,” Harry said. 

The spoons and plates were taken away by the magically floating tray and soon it returned with two bowls of soup.  Harry looked down at it, marveling at how the flat and seemingly shallow bowl was actually a lot deeper.  The soup also appeared to have layers to it.  The soup became increasingly dense and opaque as you got to the actual bottom of the bowl, the spoon pushing through the layers easily, parting them like a knife through a multi-layered cake.  He tried to taste each layer of soup on its own before mixing the layers together.

“Hmm, I am not too sure how this is created but it is rather clever,” Dumbledore said with interest. 

“Each layer is a different vegetable,” Harry said as he tasted them carefully.  “There’s pea, potato, carrot, tomato, and parsnip I think.  That’s fun.  You can make different combinations of the layers and have slightly different soups.  It’s like a terrine.”

“And they are all slightly different temperatures and textures,” Dumbledore observed.  “Very tricky and like you said, rather fun.”

The next dish raised some eyebrows.  It came to them on fire.  Orange and red flames danced on the plate and the pieces of chicken were fully consumed by said fire.  Harry looked at it and then at Dumbledore.  “I think they sent it out early.”

Dumbledore chuckled richly.  “This I know, it is a dancing fire charm that provides the illusion of flames but not any heat.”  He gently passed his hand through it.  “It feels quite cool.  Looks very impressive.”  He bit into a piece of chicken.  “Hmm, how odd.  The chicken is served cold.  Flavorful, but definitely a touch of whimsy at play here.  Serving chicken that looks hot, literally on fire, but tastes cold.”

The main course was a small Wellington for the both of them.  The golden brown pastry crust crackled when cut into and the beef within had a rosy-red center.  The dark mushroom duxelles gleamed within the pastry, encompassing the meat.  A rich dark brown gravy was pooled beneath and a small forest of broccoli steamed alongside with some roasted potatoes that gleamed with butter.

Harry took a bite and his eyebrows rose as he chewed.  He expected beef with rich and hearty mushrooms in crackling pastry but he tasted lobster instead of beef.  He chewed and swallowed, looking very confused as he inspected the wellington once more.

“This is the specialty of the house,” Dumbledore said as he ate, “Transfigurer la viande en patisserie.  Transfiguring meat in pastry.  I just had a bite of pork chop.  How about you?”

“Lobster,” Harry smiled.  He took another bite.  “That’s chicken, but a different kind from the last dish.”

“Filet of beef if I had to guess,” Dumbledore said as he chewed another piece of his own.  “It is simple enough to transfigure one thing into another, but to somehow differentiate between bites and into different things?  I would have to literally dissect this one to fully examine how this was made.  Clearly a lot of effort and creativity.”

They ate slowly, finishing the final course and savoring every bite.  When they finished, the man from earlier asked if the experience was mistake-free and Dumbledore said it had been.  After paying surreptitiously, the pair left the restaurant.  “They had a dessert course but I have had it before and it is rather lackluster I am afraid,” he said to Harry.  “I figured some ice cream from Fortescue’s would be more to our liking.”

“Oh you already took me to an amazing meal,” Harry protested.

“And we cannot send you home without something sweet,” Dumbledore insisted.  “I will feel rather self-conscious if I am eating ice cream on my own, do not make me suffer so.”  He smiled when Harry did and after purchasing a pair of raspberry white chocolate cones, they sat at a small park to enjoy them.  “How did you like your first fancy magical meal?”

“It was really good,” Harry said happily.  “Really strange to be honest.  A lot of it seemed…”

“Magical for the sake of being magical?”  Dumbledore hummed when Harry nodded.  “Something many magicals do.  For many, what is the point of doing anything without using magic?”

“I suppose,” Harry admitted.  “Magic is pretty great.”

“I think so,” Dumbledore agreed.  “But as you and I have discovered, it is not everything when it comes to food.”

“I could taste the magic.  I think it’s more because I know what the ingredients taste like normally and once you do, you can taste the magic on top.  It’s not bad, but noticeable.”

“I am grateful you and Professor Flitwick discovered that little fascinating facet,” Dumbledore said.  “I have paid more attention to what I eat and I find myself also recognizing magic in things.  And it goes beyond taste as well.  It’s very interesting.”

“Nothing tasted bad, it was all good,” Harry nodded.  “But, some of it, it was…”

“Why do it?”  Dumbledore laughed when Harry did.  “I agree honestly.  The burning cold chicken was fun to look at but strange and I cannot imagine all the hard work going into the wellington pastry thing.  To me, I am unsure if it is worth the effort but perhaps that is why they can charge for it.”

He shrugged.  “I suppose it will depend on the eater and the maker on what they believe is worth it or not.”

“It did taste fancy,” Harry smiled.  “Very fancy.”  His face fell a little, looking pensive.

“What is wrong?” Dumbledore asked, concerned at the boy’s expression.

“It’s nothing,” Harry mumbled.

“It does not appear to be nothing.  How about you tell me, and I will tell you if it is nothing,” Dumbledore said kindly.

After a moment’s hesitation, Harry spoke.  “I made dinner for Aunt Marge and the Dursleys yesterday and they complained it didn’t taste too good, that it tasted off.  But I didn’t try to make it taste bad.  I’ve never done that.  Food is too important to mess with.  But later, when I was eating, it did taste a little different to me even though it’s stuff I’ve made before.”

“I see.  Was the produce lacking in quality?”

“That’s what Uncle Vernon said but I don’t know,” Harry sighed.  “Hedwig didn’t say it was bad and it didn’t taste bad to me either, but it wasn’t…as good.  If that makes sense.” 

Dumbledore looked at Harry for a long moment.  “Harry, if I may ask, how were you feeling when you were cooking?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, confused.

“What were you thinking, and how were you feeling?”

Harry thought.  “Well, Aunt Marge was being especially rude and insulting and I guess I was reminded of how nice it was to cook for you and my friends compared to the Dursleys.”  He looked glum and oddly guilty at that admission.  “I didn’t resent cooking, but I wasn’t as…happy cooking as I normally can be.”

“Ah.  Well, I think I know what happened.”

“You do?”

Dumbledore smiled softly.  “I have a guess.  When you cast a spell, you expect it to work.  When you are comfortable with it, it becomes easier to cast, taking less effort and concentration.  Though for some spells, you still need to maintain a high level of power and concentration to cast, but we will get to that later in your school career.

“I have always believed that magic can be, and is, emotional as well as intellectual.  Of course you can cast spells without emotion, but certain spells require a certain mindset to cast correctly and properly.  And in some spells, you can feel the emotion behind the spell, as well as the skill and the intent.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”  Harry ate more of his ice cream.  “So, it is my fault that it tasted bad then, because I felt bad,” he said morosely.

“No, not quite,” Dumbledore said.  “I mean, yes, you were not feeling your usual joy for cooking,” and Merlin knows I do not blame you in the slightest, “but you were unaware of the impact of your emotions.  So you did not intend on making it taste different.  And it is important to focus on the difference.  I have been blessed to eat a lot of your cooking and each time I have, I have enjoyed it immensely.  Tell me, what are you thinking of when you cook for me and your friends?”

“To have it taste good, to make you happy and satisfied,” Harry said.  “I want the food to be satisfying and to make you feel better.”

“Indeed, and that is what makes your cooking so good,” Dumbledore said firmly.  “Your food warms the heart and the soul, Harry.  You can taste the care.  The meal we had today tasted good, and it was good, but I did not have the same level of satisfaction I do when I eat your food. 

Dumbledore patted Harry’s shoulder.  “You have a kindness that is amazing.  You can tell that you put yourself into your efforts.  You can taste it.  And that is a special thing.  Never lament it.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Harry whispered, feeling much better.  “But, that means I still didn’t make yesterday’s food as well as it could have been.”

“You are human, Harry,” Dumbledore sighed.  “Sometimes, our emotions interfere with our intentions.  In time, I truly believe you will be able to cook with a professionalism that will not deter from your efforts, despite how you are feeling at the time.  It is a part of growing up.”

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“You are most welcome,” Dumbledore beamed.

-0-

“Thank you again, Sir,” Harry said when they returned to Number 4, Privet Drive.  “This was one of the best birthdays ever, just as good as the one two years ago really,” Harry said happily.

Dumbledore suppressed a flicker of emotion.  “It was my honor and my genuine pleasure to have celebrated the day with you.  I will be seeing you soon at school.  As I said before, send me any messages you need to.  Oh, before you go, perhaps you can have your aunt come speak with me?”

“Sure.”  Harry looked concerned for a moment but waved brightly and walked within the house. 

A moment later Petunia came out and closed the door behind her, glaring at Dumbledore.  “And what do you want?” she asked, looking about nervously.

“Rest easy, I have placed a few charms to deter others from eavesdropping or seeing us.  I know you value your veneer of normalcy,” Dumbledore said quietly.

She relaxed a little, letting her nervous energy turn into angry energy.  She crossed her arms and glared at him.  “What do you want?” she repeated.

Dumbledore took a deep breath.  “I do not know what happened before, and I am not necessarily entitled to know.  However, now that I am aware of things happening, I want to inform you that I will be keeping a closer eye.”

Petunia paled and reddened at the same time, a curious mixture on a curious expression.  “What has he told you?”

“Nothing in so many words, but I have paid attention to what was not said out loud.”

“It’s none of your business,” she hissed.

“Perhaps.  Before, certainly.  Now, however, it is.  Harry is one of my students and I am making it my business.”

“And what, you go to every single one of your students’ homes and meddle in their private lives?” she asked.  “Or does the boy have some sort of special treatment?”

“If I must, I will.”  He gave her a very direct look.  “To my knowledge, Harry is the only one needing special consideration.  Imagine that.  A school full of students and only Harry seems to be in some sort of trouble.  I find that sort of odds to be very abnormal.”

Petunia nearly shrieked from outrage.  “You have no room to talk!  In fact, this is all your fault!”

His face stilled, as if carved from cold stone.  “And how do you justify that?” he asked politely but coldly.

“We never wanted the brat,” she growled.  “You left him here.  Therefore, everything the boy has experienced is on your head, not mine.”  As the silence dragged, she grew nervous, acting as if she wanted to escape back to the safety of the house.

“If that is how you want to see it,” Dumbledore said slowly and quietly, “then nothing I say will change your mind.  You are not entirely wrong.”  He nearly snorted at her look of vindictive triumph.  “Thus, I will do what I must to rectify the situation.”

“W-What does that mean?” she gasped.  “Is that a threat?”

This time he did snort.  “I will respond to you how I have responded to everyone who says that to me.”  He leaned in closely, making her quail.  “I do not make threats.  I am an educator at heart and I educate people.  Take that how you will.”

He leaned back and looked incredibly old and weary.  “What happened, Petunia?” he whispered.  “What happened to the girl that loved her sister?”

Petunia scowled.  “She grew up.  And you are the fool if you thought that love could ever be extended to someone else.  Just because he is her son does not mean I have to love him.”

Dumbledore sighed.  “I did not think that.  I had hoped, however.”  He straightened his shoulders and his weary look evaporated, replaced by gentlemanly calm.  “Heed my words, Petunia.  I am aware now, and I will be paying attention.”  He turned and started to leave.

“That sounded like a threat,” Petunia blustered.

He turned to look at her, his eyes no longer twinkling.  “I said I do not make threats.  That does not mean I do not know how.  Trust me when I say this, when I threaten you, you will know it.”  She shivered as he whispered.  “That, Petunia, was a threat.”  He took a few more steps and apparated away.

Petunia stayed on the doorstep for long moments, waiting for her limbs to stop shaking.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

30^th Course – Bitter and Sweet

Diagon Alley felt a little different to Harry, despite having visited a few weeks prior for his birthday.

People walked around with a faint sense of unease.  There were posters of a man hanging on the walls, all asking people to alert the authorities if they saw the wanted man: Sirius Black.  People looked at the posters and whispered among themselves.  If Harry had not been forewarned, he would have been quite unsettled.

When he arrived at Diagon to purchase school supplies, he was pleasantly surprised to find Remus waiting for him in the Leaky Cauldron.  The man had sent Harry a message asking when Harry was going and had shown up to be with him.  When Harry asked him why, Remus had hesitated for a moment before he took Harry to one side.

“Sirius Black,” he said slowly with a very strange expression on his face, “broke out of Britain’s Wizarding prison: Azkaban.  He is one of the only people to have successfully done so and it is rumored he might be around here if not moving more northward.”

“Why did he go to prison?” Harry asked, shocked.

“He murdered many people, a wizard named Peter Pettigrew, and many Muggles.  It happened at the end of the last war,” Remus said quietly.

“Why?” Harry could not help but ask.

Remus rubbed his face.  “I…cannot say.  Not right now, not here.  Forgive me.”

“Sure, of course.”  He gave Remus a considering look.  “But why are you here with me?”

“I did not want you to be in such a public space alone,” Remus said.

“Is he coming after me or something?” Harry said, half-joking.  His smile died at Remus’ very serious look.  “Really?”

“There’s a possibility,” Remus admitted.  “One of the rumors is that he is going to Hogwarts for some reason.”

“But why me?” Harry asked, starting to panic a little.

“I do not know,” Remus said sadly.  “Neither does anyone really.  That being said, we are fully prepared to protect you.”

“I believe that,” Harry said weakly, “but, it’s still worrying.”

“I’d be worried for your mental state if you didn’t find it so,” Remus smiled gently, making Harry smile as well.  “As someone who has lived with fear and concern for many years, try not to let it ruin times of peace.  Besides, I did not just wish to accompany you to watch out for you.  I wanted to spend time with you outside of class and school, and I need to get you a belated birthday gift.”

“Oh you don’t have to,” Harry protested.

“Ah but I do, I have missed so many.”  Remus patted Harry’s shoulder warmly.  “Come!  Let’s enjoy the day.”

Despite the slightly grim start and that general sense of unease, it was an enjoyable day.  Remus was fun to talk to while they shopped.  He pointed out some helpful books for the coming year and beyond and his gift to Harry was purchasing said books.  Remus shared more stories of his parents as they shopped and walked, precious moments of memory that Harry committed to his.  They had a nice late lunch at the Cauldron and Remus waited with him for Vernon to come get him.

“Thank you, Remus,” Harry said brightly.  “I had a good day.”

“Excellent,” Remus smiled back.  “Do be careful before returning to Hogwarts.  If you need anyone, send Hedwig or call for Inky.  I believe I heard her coming to your aid last year?”

“She did and I will.”

“Good.  See you soon then.”

-0-

Harry grunted as he dragged the heavy bags of garbage out of the house.  The Dursleys had thrown a dinner party every night leading up to him leaving for school and this was the biggest yet.  They were all still within, having an extended nightcap, and Harry was slowly cleaning up the kitchen and dining room.  Petunia had treated him strangely since his day with Dumbledore, alternating between a strange placidity that could be construed as kindness to being especially critical. 

Years of such treatment has long made Harry stop questioning the why.  He simply endured, counting the days down to him leaving for school again.  This year, he was not even that bothered when he was told not to return for the Christmas Holiday.  The dinner with Marge and the subsequent ones bothered him and he truly feared becoming bitter and treating cooking as something to be resented.  He had done his best to remain objective at best or detached at worst, after his conversation with Dumbledore that day.  It was hard to feel that same enthusiasm as he had before when cooking for the Dursleys when he could think of all the pleasant times he cooked for his friends and the House Elves and the adults at Hogwarts.

He hated feeling that way.

As he threw the garbage bags into the bins, a noise startled him, making him turn and reach for his wand that was not there.  He cursed softly, ready to run back before he saw the vague outline of a dog hiding in the shadows of the bushes.

“Oh, hey there,” he said, heart pounding.  “You scared me.”

The dog crept forward and Harry goggled at how large it was.  It was also very thin, its black coat a little matted and ragged.  Yet the dog looked at him intelligently, tongue lolling out and mouth opened in a dog’s smile.

“Are you hungry?” Harry asked, thinking that was why the dog was hiding close to the bins.  “Nothing but trash in there but wait one second.”  He went back to the home and filled a plate with the large amounts of leftovers from the dinner party.  Unnoticed by anyone, he went back outdoors and set the plate down on the ground.  “Here you go.  If you don’t mind leftovers.”

The dog did not.  The dog ate enthusiastically, tail wagging with glee as it ate and ate, literally licking the plate clean in short moments.

Harry smiled wide.  “You’re really hungry huh?  There’s some more if you want.”  He laughed at the dog’s eager nod and bark and soon returned with more.  “Don’t get sick now,” he said fondly, watching the dog eat.

The dog eventually finished eating.  It sat beside the boy, licking its chops and then belched in a surprisingly human-like way.  A look of human-like sheepishness crossed the dog’s features, making Harry laugh even more.

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” Harry smiled.  He sat beside the dog for long moments, enjoying the cool evening.  “I better go,” he said reluctantly after a while.  “Hope you find your way home or something.  Thanks for the company.”

The dog barked a few times as Harry waved and left.  It waited for Harry to reenter Number 4, before it bowed once and melted away into the night.

-0-

Harry smiled a little as he walked through the barrier at King’s Cross and onto Platform 9 and 3/4s.  The morning had amused him slightly.  Vernon and Petunia were upset to find the majority of the leftovers gone and after Harry proved he did not throw them away, they blamed Dudley.  Dudley, who many times in the past had done what they accused him of, protested his innocence to no avail and the fight they had made Harry smile inwardly while near them, and outwardly now.

It was still early, something Harry liked.  Less people to point and stare, something he still had not gotten used to.  It was also a little quieter and Harry could find a compartment for himself and hopefully his friends when they arrived.  In short order he found one near the back of the train and settled down comfortably.  Hedwig kicked the door to the cage open as soon as they got into the compartment and flew about some, stretching her wings.  She finally settled in his lap and nibbled on his fingers, demanding attention.

He looked up at a knock on the compartment’s door and smiled brightly, waving back.  It opened and Pansy and Millicent were there.  “Hi!” he said happily.

“Hey there!” Millicent smiled back.

“Hello!” Pansy smiled.  “May we join you?”

“Of course, let me help.”  He gently deposited Hedwig on the seat beside him before getting up and helping the girls with their trunks.  He smiled at Sunny’s insistent meows, the kneazle pawing at her basket latch.  “She can’t get out on her own?”

“Oh no, we charmed that to be unopenable from the inside,” Millicent said as she undid the latch and Sunny squirmed out before the basket lid could be fully opened.  “Otherwise we’d be able to never transport her anywhere.”

“Hedwig kicks her cage door open,” Harry smiled.  The girls laughed when Hedwig puffed her chest out.  “Of course she knows when it’s appropriate to do it.”  He sat down and stared when both the owl and the kneazle had tried to claim his lap.  “Uh oh,” he said as the two pets squared off, hissing lightly at each other.

“I think Hedwig will win this round,” Pansy smiled. 

After some intense posturing, Hedwig consented to roost on Harry’s head and Sunny curled up on his lap, both making noises of content.

“Sorry, it seems like I stole Sunny,” Harry laughed, petting the cat gently.

“I don’t mind at all,” Millicent said easily.  “She only does that to me, Pansy, and you honestly.”

“And I know she does it to me more to irritate me,” Pansy sighed, sniffing when Sunny’s purrs sounded suspiciously like giggling.  “She has gotten better though, she no longer hides my things.”

“And no more clawing thanks to the charm,” Harry said.

“That too.  Now she delights in pouncing on me at odd moments,” Pansy sighed, making Millicent and Harry snicker.  “I found that out the hard way when I visited Mille for the first time over summer.  Opened her wardrobe and the beast came flying out of it.”

“If it makes you feel better, she does that to a lot of people,” Millicent said.  “Though admittedly she seems happier when she does it to you.”

“That, surprisingly, does not make me feel better,” Pansy said dryly.

“Can’t please you at all,” Millicent sighed.  She looked out the window, seeing the platform filling with more people.  She brightened and waved when she saw someone.  Harry and Pansy waved too and in a short amount of time, the door to the compartment opened. 

“Hey guys!” Parvati said and Padma smiled from behind her sister.  “Excuse me a second.”  She moved past them and opened the window with a grunt.  “Come here Harry.”  She waited for Harry to pass Sunny back to Millicent and stood at the window with Parvati.  “Grandmum, this is Harry.  Harry, meet Grandmum.”

Harry gulped a little, trying to straighten his clothes a little and looking up at Hedwig who sat unmoving on his head.  “Hello,” he stammered slightly.  “It’s nice to meet you.”

Durga Patil looked up at Harry thoughtfully.  She was short and small, even accounting for the fact that Harry was on the train and looking out and down, but she exuded a presence that more than made up for her slight stature.  Her brown eyes seemed to see everything, from his untidy hair, his wrinkled shirt, and nervous disposition.

“He’s rather scrawny,” she said thoughtfully.

“Grandmum, be nice,” Padma sighed, having joined her sister and friend at the window.

“I am being nice.  I just assumed he would be bigger from your descriptions.  He does seem kind however.  I can believe that he cooks well.”  She looked at him closely, making him sweat a little.

“He’s a good cook and tries,” Parvati said.  “Almost as good as Auntie Anvi and better than some of the other aunties and uncles.  Besides, without him we’d be stuck eating what you call ‘spice-less’ nonsense until we come back for holidays.”  She smiled slyly.  “Maybe one day he’ll be almost as good as you.”

“Watch your tongue.  You’re not too old for me to bend over my knee,” Durga said in slightly accented English, making Harry smile and Parvati flush.  She smiled genially at an amused Harry.  “Nice to meet you too, young man.  I am pleased to make your acquaintance.  I am grateful to you for cooking for my granddaughters, the rude things.”

“They’re nice,” Harry smiled while Parvati glared and Padma rolled her eyes.  “Thank you for letting me learn family recipes and for the spices.  I really like Indian food, what little I’ve made and tried, and would like to learn more.”

“Good!  Wanting to learn is just as important as doing,” she said with frank approval, “as well as appreciating.”  She gestured and Padma and Parvati leaned out for a hug and a kiss goodbye.  She then reached out and after some prompting from the twins, took Harry’s hand to shake it firmly.  “You continue to have my blessing.  I hope to see and speak with you again.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, touched.

“Oh and my promise to not Curse you continues,” Durga said with a small smile.

“Grandmum!” the twins exclaimed, huffing while Harry laughed with relief.  Durga waved and left, walking down the platform and apparating away mid-stride.

“Sorry about that, she wanted to meet you when she saw you,” Parvati said.

“I don’t mind, she’s fun.”  Harry smiled.  “Still a little scary, but nice.”

“She actually likes you,” Padma said.  “If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have spoken to you.  She’s like that.  One of our cousin’s had a girl over once and she refused to speak to her when she was rude.  When the girl said that she understood Hindi, Grandmum told the cousin that she didn’t care if she did or didn’t and asked my cousin to pass the naan.”

“I really like your grandmother,” Pansy smiled.

“Hey guys!”  Lavender came running up to the open window. 

“Hey Lavender!” Parvati and Harry exclaimed with the other three girls waving and smiling.  “You just missed Grandmum,” Parvati continued.

“Aww, maybe I’ll see her when we come back for break or something.  I like her, even if she thinks I’m too bubbly,” Lavender giggled.  She reached up and hugged Parvati through the window and then Harry.

“First time she met Lavender, she thought she was too happy to deal with before she had her morning coffee,” Padma explained with a big smile. 

“Oh Harry, meet my sisters and my Mum,” Lavender said brightly.  “This is Marigold and this is Clover.”  She put an arm around two small girls that looked identical and shared some features with Lavender: blonde hair and large bright eyes.  “And this is Mum, Leena.”

Leena did not look like Lavender at all but her love for Lavender and the two small girls was clear.  “Hello Harry, we’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh hello,” Harry said shyly.  “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You’re Lavender’s cook friend, right?” Marigold asked.

“We love your recipes and your biscuits!” Clover exclaimed.  “Do you have any biscuits?”

“Clover!” Lavender gasped.  “Don’t ask that!”

Harry smiled and reached into his school bag and took out a slim box.  “I do actually.  Here, you and Marigold can share.”

“Harry, you don’t have to,” Lavender protested, glaring at her sisters who flushed a little.

“It’s okay, I can make more when we get to school,” Harry said soothingly.

Leena had pursed her lips at her daughters but smiled eventually.  “That’s very kind of you Harry.  Here,” she handed Harry some coins.  “Get an extra treat from the trolly later, I insist.”

“Oh, uhm, okay,” Harry stammered.  “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Harry!” the twin small girls chorused, with Clover hugging the box.  “Hi Hedwig!”

Hedwig hopped daintily out the window and flapped her wings lazily, landing on Marigold’s outstretched arm.  She cheeped pleasantly, basking in their attention and adoration as the girls petted her and rubbed her belly.

“Better take your things onto the train, love,” Leena said to Lavender.  She smiled as Lavender did, watching Harry help her put her trunk on the rack.  “Better give Hedwig back girls, before the train leaves and poor Hedwig has to fly to Hogwarts.”  She passed the owl back through the window and gave Lavender a last hug and kiss.  “Have a good start of term and be sure to write as often as Hedwig will deliver.  Thank you again for letting Hedwig deliver mail for us, Harry.  Not to mention all the treats you send us.”

“She likes the trip and she likes Lavender and your family,” Harry said as Hedwig settled back on his head, cheeping in agreement.  “Lavender’s my best friend so I’m happy to.”

“Bye Mum, bye Clover, bye Marigold!” Lavender called, waving as the Express blew a warning whistle.  They closed the window as the train began to move, waving as they left the platform and King’s Cross.  She sighed a little, looking a little sad, before clapping her cheeks a little and smiling once more.  “Now I can give you proper hugs,” she said and hugged Parvati, Padma, and then Harry.

She laughed when Hedwig hopped off Harry’s head and looked at her expectantly.  “And can’t forget you either,” she said and hugged the owl.

Pansy looked down for a moment when Lavender hugged Harry, chewing her lip.  Sunny chose to crawl onto her lap at that moment and she was grateful for the distraction, feeling relieved when the odd sense of disquiet left her after a moment.

A light knocking barely shook the door and it opened a bit, revealing Luna.  “May I join you?” she asked shyly.

“Come on in,” Harry said, making her beam brightly.  She sat beside Padma and seemed content to be there.

“How was your last trip?” Harry asked Pansy.  “Italy, right?”

“Yes,” Pansy said, smiling a little.  “It was very good!  Father and Mother managed to negotiate a new deal and were terribly pleased and it was nice to explore Rome.  Some of the old Roman magics are still very active there and they are quite fascinating.”

“I want to go to Italy one day,” Lavender said.  “I heard Rome and Venice are so nice and pretty.”

“I like Venice a lot,” Pansy said enthusiastically.  “The magical district is so beautiful.  You can only reach it by taking the right canal and the entire place is built on the water.  It’s wonderful.”

“Did you go with her?” Parvati asked.

Millicent shook her head.  “Not this time.  Separate business thing.  Between you and me, I’m glad I didn’t go.  The Parkinsons went with the Zabinis.”

“Blaise is a bit annoying,” Pansy nodded.

“I thought you said half of him is at least,” Harry laughed.

“Which is technically a bit, just a big bit,” Pansy laughed too.

“He’s cute though,” Parvati said.  She rolled her eyes when the girls looked at her.  “What, you think so too,” she said accusingly.

Padma flushed a little.  “No I don’t.”

“The worst part of saying Blaise is attractive is that he knows he’s attractive,” Pansy sniffed.  “He’s worse than a cat.”

“And his personality doesn’t make up for it,” Millicent laughed.

“No, don’t say that, let me daydream in peace,” Parvati moaned sadly.

“You look awfully red,” Luna said, looking at Harry.  “Nargle got your tongue?”

Lavender started giggling harder, seeing him look vaguely uncomfortable.  “Aww, are you feeling awkward since girls are talking about boys?”

“Maybe,” he laughed, cheeks pink.  “I don’t want to keep you girls from talking if you want to, though.”

“Hey fair’s fair,” Parvati said.  She leaned forward, eyes sparkling with mischief.  “Any girls catch your eye, Harry?  You find anyone cute?  Maybe we can butter her up some to the idea.  I’ve noticed you’ve given Sue some looks-OW!”  Parvati glared at Lavender.  “What was that for?!” she said loudly and pinched Lavender back.

“Don’t embarrass him!” Lavender sputtered and shrieked when Parvati pinched her harder.

“You were giggling like mad about embarrassing him a minute ago!”  Parvati and Lavender devolved into a pinch and push fight.  Padma shook her head at her twin and sighed heavily while Millicent enjoyed the show.

“Your face is rather red too,” Luna observed, looking at Pansy.

Pansy rubbed her face hurriedly.  “It’s nothing, Sunny is very hot,” she said hurriedly.

“May I borrow her?  I’m a bit chilly,” Luna asked.  The younger girl happily took the purring kneazle and sighed happily when she curled up on her lap.  “Oh you are very warm,” she praised the pet.

“Sue’s nice but I barely know her,” Harry said awkwardly when the fighting died down to sullen glaring. 

“So if you were to get to know her-“ Parvati glared at Padma when her sister dug her elbow into her side.

“Just shut up,” Padma hissed. 

“How was the end of your summer?” Lavender asked loudly, still glaring at Parvati.  She stuck her tongue out when Parvati gave her a rude hand gesture.

“It was okay,” Harry said.  “Stayed pretty busy, good thing I did all my homework early on.  There were weekly dinner parties and stuff like that all the way to the end with almost one every other day the last few weeks.”

“They were throwing more?  Why?” Parvati asked.

“Not sure.  Oh well wait, maybe I know why.”  Harry rubbed his neck.  “Professor Dumbledore came one day and took me to eat on Diagon Alley.  I know he and Aunt Petunia had a conversation and I don’t think it was super polite because she was not happy for a long time after.”

“No way, Dumbledore came to take you out for a day and talked to your aunt?  Why?” Millicent asked, leaning in.

“I don’t know why they talked,” Harry said.  “It felt awkward but he kinda acted like he knew her a little?  Not sure why though he was close to my Mother and Father, so maybe that’s why?  He took me to Shine though which was nice.  Or Sheen.  However you say it.”

Pansy and Millicent gasped.  “You went to Sheen?!” Pansy asked.  “That is one of the most expensive and fanciest restaurants in Wizarding Britain!  It’s famous!”

“Really?” Harry asked, eyes wide.

“Seriously!  They have wait lists for months for seats,” Millicent said.  “It’s super upscale and Society people use that place like a special place for showing off and for negotiations and stuff.”

“Wow,” Lavender breathed.  “How was it?”

Harry described the meal to them, remembering every dish and how it was.  “It was good,” he concluded.  “Really weird overall but I can definitely see what Pansy and Millie mean by it being a very fancy place.”

Pansy narrowed her eyes slightly.  “Why did Dumbledore take you there?”

“He said as a thank you for last year and the Chamber business,” Harry said.  “Oh and for my birthday,” he added as an after-thought.  After a long period of silence, he looked up and was startled to see the girls all looking at him with funny expressions.  “What?”

“It was your birthday?” Pansy asked quietly, looking stricken.  “I didn’t know it was your birthday.”

“Neither did we!”  Parvati and Padma looked appalled.  “Why didn’t you tell us it was your birthday?!”

“I uh, well, is that what people do normally?” Harry asked, panicking a little.

“I told you what my birthday was like a few days after we became friends!” Parvati said, making Padma groan.

“But you were talking about horoscope and astrology stuff,” Harry said.

“But you remembered it and gave me and Padma a gift!” Parvati shot back.

“How have we been friends for two years now and I didn’t know?” Lavender asked, looking upset. 

“No one’s made a fuss before really,” Harry said weakly.

“What the hell does that mean?” Millicent asked, looking disturbed.

“Like it sounds,” Harry said.  “I never celebrated it before.  First year was the first time I did, really.  Hagrid took me to Diagon after convincing the Dursleys to let me go to Hogwarts and he got me Hedwig as a gift.”  He smiled when Hedwig flew to him and plumped in his lap.  “Best birthday gift ever,” he said as she gnawed on his fingers lovingly.

“They never did anything for you before?!” Lavender nearly shrieked.

“Hagrid had to convince them to let you attend Hogwarts?!” Pansy nearly shouted.

“They used to throw a big party for their friends on my birthday and I cooked for them,” Harry said, looking down.  “And yeah, they weren’t going to let me go until Hagrid told them I was going and they couldn’t stop me.  That first year was the first year they didn’t throw a party.  Didn’t the last two years actually.  Guess they forgot.  Actually, I knew Aunt Petunia forgot, she didn’t fuss much when the Headmaster came to take me out.  Only made sure I made food for them while I was away.”

Luna gently deposited Sunny into Millicent’s lap and walked over to Harry and hugged him firmly.  “Happy Belated Day of Life,” she said.  “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Thanks Luna,” Harry said, slightly embarrassed but greatly touched.  “I’m glad too.”  He hugged her back, coughing slightly when she tightened her grip around his middle. 

The other girls looked at each other with expressions of guilt and pain and anger in differing degrees, with different feelings at the fore.

“We’ll do something within the next couple of weeks,” Millicent said, breaking the silence.  “Did you get your Hogsmeade pass signed?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” Harry said.

“Then we can do something in Hogsmeade and then later in the club room so Luna can join us there too,” Padma said. 

“Really, it’s okay,” he protested slightly.  “I really appreciate you lot wanting to but it’s fine.  I’m used to it.”

“It’s not fine,” Lavender said angrily.  “And you can’t stop us.”

“And they can’t stop us from celebrating your day properly next year,” Pansy seethed. 

He felt very warm and cared for at that moment.  “Thanks,” he said again softly.  “I do appreciate it.” 

It was good to be back among friends. 

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

31^st Course – Shades

“I have a question.”

“By all means,” Dumbledore said, not turning from the window.

“Do you normally stand like that, looking pensively and wisely out the window, when you are alone too?  Or do you only do it in the presence of others for the mystique?” Pomfrey asked cheekily.

Dumbledore chuckled.  “When I am alone, I am usually sitting.”  He turned and smiled at the grinning Matron, enjoying the look of faint shock on Remus’ face and Snape’s carefully cultivated blandness.  “And before you ask, I stand when company is present because I find myself making undignified noises when standing these days.”

“You need more exercise to stay limber,” Pomfrey said pertly.

“You might be right.  I feel much like lumber these days,” Dumbledore said and sank into his chair.

“I will write you a program then,” Pomfrey said as she and the other two men sat too.

“I look forward to it,” Dumbledore said genially.  “How are we on preparations?”

“The Infirmary is well stocked on anti-anxiety potions, calming draughts, peace potions, and all sorts of related things,” Pomfrey reported, no longer looking mischievous. 

“We have ample stores of all the materials needed for said potions,” Snape said.

“I’ve reviewed all the wards and protections with Bathsheda,” Remus said.  “We’re as ready as we can be, given the circumstances.”

“I continue to protest,” Pomfrey said.

“As do I,” Dumbledore sighed.  “And it continues to fall on deaf ears.”

“What is wrong with him,” Pomfrey grumbled.  “Bloody Dementors around a bloody school?!  I know some of the students think school is a prison, but that doesn’t mean it actually is.”

“Not to mention he broke out of prison past these same guards,” Snape said scathingly.  “What are they going to do here when they have already failed once before?”

“I have said as much,” Dumbledore sighed again.  “Cornelius is rather adamant unfortunately.  Apparently, the Dementors have some face to save and he was unamused when I pointed out they do not even have faces to save.”

“Even better!”  Pomfrey threw her hands into the air.  “Dementors with wounded pride!  That’s certainly a problem just waiting to happen.”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore agreed dryly.  “Cornelius was not alone in his cry for the Dementors.  Concerned parents also apparently lent their support, as did some of the governors.”  He gave Snape a knowing look.

“Lucius did make his support for the measure known,” Snape said after a moment.  “Something about ensuring Draco’s protection, as well as the other students of course.”

“Why does everyone assume Sirius is coming here?” Pomfrey asked.  She crossed her arms.  “It does not make any sense.  Then again, if you ever told me he would turn out this way, I would say that didn’t make sense either.”

Dumbledore shook his head.  “Apparently, some of the human guards at Azkaban recall him muttering about Hogwarts the days leading up to the escape.”

Pomfrey, Snape, and Remus looked at each other for a moment.

“That can mean anything,” Pomfrey said with some uncertainty. 

“It could, but in the light of the evidence, it is not unreasonable to think he is coming.  That is why we have the Dementors at our doorstep,” Dumbledore said sourly.  A small model of the Hogwarts Express on his desk began to puff, the tiny wheels moving and steam leaving the stacks at the top.  “Ah, the train is almost at Hogsmeade.”

“Then we should prepare,” Pomfrey said, rising from her seat.  “I imagine there will be some complications tonight, with the students passing them on the way to the school.”  She and Snape left.  Remus was about to follow before Dumbledore held him back.

“Remus,” Dumbledore said slowly, “forgive me for asking…”

Remus sighed.  “No, it’s okay.  For the life of me, I honestly don’t know why he would be coming.”

“Do you think he means Harry harm?”

Remus looked at the stone floor.  “I don’t, rather, I didn’t.  I never thought he would ever betray James though, or Lily.  Not to mention kill Peter and murder Muggles.”

“Neither did I,” Dumbledore said sadly.  “Can you think of anything else that might help us?”

Remus paused and shook his head.  “No, Headmaster, but the moment I think of something, I will bring it to your attention.”

“Thank you.”  Dumbledore watched Remus leave his office and turned once more to look out the windows, humming softly to himself as he watched the tiny far away Hogwarts Express approach Hogsmeade.

-0-

“Is it just me, or does it feel cold somehow?” Lavender asked, looking around the station platform uneasily. 

“It’s kind of clammy too,” Hermione said, shivering a little.  She, Neville, and Sue had joined the others as the trip progressed and they left the train together in a large group. 

“What are those?!” Parvati gasped, pointing at some dark figures roaming the edges of the platform.  They were clad in ragged robes, floating a few inches over the ground.  Long skeletal limbs hung from the sleeves, pale and wasted and ending in long grasping fingers.  A curious rattling noise could be heard from them and air seemed to move thickly around them.

“Dementors.”  They turned and saw Percy there, looking grim.  “Extra security precaution due to Black being on the loose.”

“Dementors?!”  Pansy looked equal parts frightened and shocked.  “Here?!  They allowed it?”

“Apparently,” Percy said dryly.  “Come on then, faster you get on the carriages the better.  Off you go, no hanging about.”  He directed them off the platform, moving them along firmly.  “Less you spend around them, the better.”

“What are Dementors?” Lavender asked Pansy as they walked.

“Vile things,” Pansy said.  “They guard Azkaban, the prison.  They suck positive feelings from you and can kill you easily.  They drive the prisoners mad.”

“They suck positive feelings?!” Padma and Parvati said together, disgusted.

“Something like that,” Millicent said grimly.  “You don’t want to mess with them or be near them.  Come on.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Lavender said.  “Let’s go-hey wait.  Where’s Harry?  Harry?”

As they had moved past a patrolling pair, Harry had stopped.  A faint whispering filled his ears and he had frozen in his tracks, looking at the floating creatures with horror and fascination.  The longer he stood there, the louder the whispering got, slowly becoming clearer.

“-move aside girl!”

“No! -nything but him!”

The first voice was cold, dripping with cruelty.  The second voice was warmer but desperate, frightened.

And terribly familiar.

He took a step closer to the Dementors.  They had paused as soon as Harry did and both of their empty cowled heads turned to Harry.  The rattling noise became deeper and sounded hungry.  They drifted closer to Harry.

“Give me the boy!”

“No!  Not my Harry!  Kill me instead!  Anything but him!”

Harry felt the air freeze on his skin, chilling him to the bone.  He felt like he was being drawn to the Dementors and was unable to stop himself.  He wanted nothing more than to run away screaming.  He wanted nothing more than to hear more and find the cause of the voices.

“Harry!”  Lavender turned and saw Harry being drawn to the two Dementors and she gasped when she saw him.  With chattering teeth, she ran to him and tried to pull him away.  “H-Harry!  Let’s go!”  She shivered and tried to stare down the Dementors.  “L-Leave him alone!”

“Y-You can’t reason with t-them!”  Pansy grabbed Harry’s other arm and pulled too.  “Harry, let’s go!”

“Back!  Away!”  Remus appeared and he held his wand up.  Bright silver fire poured from the tip and formed a crackling torch.  He waved it and the Dementors fled before it, hissing with agony.  “Get back!”  He clicked his wand and a silver form flashed at the Dementors from the silver torch and it drove them back. 

Them leaving instantly made everyone feel better.  Harry’s knees buckled and he groaned.  Lavender and Pansy kept him from falling completely and Remus lent a steadying hand.  “Did they touch him, any of you?” he asked, looking at Harry and his friends.

“No Sir,” Lavender gasped.  “It was close though.”

“Harry, are you okay?” Remus asked.  He held his hand to Harry’s forehead and peered into his eyes.

Harry blinked and seemed to come to.  “R-Remus?  Sir?  Where…what?  I heard someone, it sounded…I…”

“This is normal, any kind of close proximity to Dementors can cause some confusion,” Remus said to the worried friends.  “Let’s get you away from them first.  Come on.”  He led them off the platform to the waiting carriages, large comfortable four-wheeled vehicles that took the students to and from the castle.  They waited for their turn to board.

“Professor, why did Harry get badly affected and we didn’t?” Hermione asked hesitantly.

“People who have experienced…considerable trauma can be more susceptible to their malaise,” Remus said quietly.  He looked around grimly.  While Harry’s reaction had been stronger, he was not completely alone.  Some students were badly shaken and others were obviously upset.  As more of the students came to the carriage area, a table appeared with pieces of chocolate for people to take.  Seeing that, Remus reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bar of chocolate and cut it up with a flick of his wand.  “Here, everyone take some, it’ll help.”

He smiled faintly at Harry.  “It won’t be as good as your hot chocolate that you made, but it’ll still be good.”  He was gratified when Harry smiled faintly back.  Harry and his friends ate the chocolate pieces and felt better, feeling the warmth of the late summer evening coming to them.  Remus helped them enter a couple of the carriages and waved them off before moving back among the other students.

Harry let his head hang down a little, bouncing with the wheels of the carriage.  His head ached some and his scar felt peculiar, though not in a burning painful way.  He felt immense relief from being away from the Dementors, but he also felt a strange hollowness inside.  He did not really know who the voices were, not consciously, but a part of him told him he knew who one of them was.  He really wanted to know more, but the pressure from being around the Dementors made him question that desire.

He looked up finally and saw the worried looks that the Patils, Millicent, Pansy, and Lavender wore as they looked at him.  He smiled sheepishly, “I’m okay.  Sorry to worry you.”

“What did you hear?” Millicent asked.  “Was it like a hissing?  Was it Parseltongue?”

“No.”  He shook his head.  “I heard voices, a man and a woman.  They sounded like they were fighting.  Kinda familiar, I think.”

“I didn’t hear any voices really,” Parvati said weakly.  “Just felt weak and terrible.”  Padma nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, me too,” Millicent said quietly.

“I felt really cold and alone,” Lavender said softly.

“As did I,” Pansy said just as softly.

“I don’t think I like Dementors,” Harry said with a limp smile and everyone snorted a little.  “They’re not very nice.”

“Understatement,” Pansy said with a tiny smile.

“Sunny likes to claw you a little,” Harry said in reply.

“Why are you bringing her into this?” Millicent asked, giving him a look.

“I thought we were making understatements,” he said weakly.

“Oh, right.”  Millicent smiled a little.  “Pansy’s only a little snooty some of the time.”

“You’re only a little bit of a bitch some of the time,” Pansy retorted with a growing smile.

“Padma’s less dry than a book,” Parvati piped in.  “Literally I mean.”

“You’re not tone deaf,” Padma piped back, “you’re tone intolerant.”

“She’s a little toned,” Lavender said helpfully, shaking Parvati’s arm.

“And you only care about your hair a little bit,” Parvati said, pulling on Lavender’s curls.  She and Lavender exchanged smacks.

“You can make fun of my hair,” Harry said to Lavender.

Pansy patted his hand.  “Too easy of a target.” 

After a moment’s silence, they burst out laughing, feeling much better as the carriage went through the gates of the school.  They were still smiling and giggling and snickering as they got off the carriage, though Harry was still a bit pale and moved a little slowly.

“What’s so funny?” Sue asked as the others joined them.

“Just us making understatements about each other,” Padma smiled.

As they walked up the stone path to the doors of the school, a voice cut in.  “I saw that, Potter.  You attracted to the Dementors?”  Draco sneered at him.  “Wanting to be one of them?  You look the part: thin and drowning in overlarge clothing.”

He ignored the angry looks from Harry’s friends, pointedly ignoring the disapproving looks that Pansy and Millicent wore.  He saw Harry stumble and smiled savagely, scenting blood.  “Or maybe you feel at home with them?  Them being so cold to you?  Is that what it’s like where you come from?  Since your family do not care about you at all and never want you back for holidays.”

Harry’s flinch goaded him on.  “How pathetic can you be?  Look at you, so pale just being near a couple of Dementors?”

“Fancy you should mention that,” a bright voice interrupted.  Fred bounded up to Draco and threw an arm around his shoulders.  “We’ve noticed how pale you look normally and we just have to ask you.”

George threw an arm around Draco’s shoulders too and Draco looked distinctly uncomfortable caught between the Weasley twins.  “You see, our Mum has been looking for a nice pale foundation and since you always look nice and pale, what foundation do you use?”

“Foundation?!” Draco squawked while everyone started snickering and laughing.

“I mean, it has to be a foundation, right?” Fred asked, eyes glinting with malicious glee.

“Unless you’re casting a glamour or a charm,” George said, eyes glinting with identical malicious glee.

“I think make-up because it’s easier I would think.”

“But you’re a Malfoy and maybe you can cast those aesthetic charms in your sleep.”

“Which makes sense I suppose too.”

“With your father’s luxuriously Luciusly lusciously locks?”

“You leave my father out of this!” Draco shouted.

“Oh pardon us,” Fred gasped, hand to mouth.  “You usually bring your father into…well everything!”

“I got it, it’s a ‘my father’ thing and we shouldn’t use it so brazenly,” George said, nodding sagely.  “Still, if you don’t mind telling us your secret later, we’d appreciate it!”

“It’s our Mum’s birthday soon after all,” Fred said and the twins bounded away, leaving a very angry and not-pale looking Draco behind them.  Everyone who had stopped to watch the altercation were howling with laughter and the tides of students moved, pushing Draco away from the group.

“That was brilliant,” Neville smiled widely.

“Thank you!” the twins said, bowing.

“Thanks,” Harry grinned, “I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” Fred said, waving a hand.  “It’s always fun messing with him.”

“We were serious though, if he does use a nice pale foundation, we would like to know,” George said seriously.

“Not just for Mum.”

“We could use it ourselves for certain things.”

“I can tell you what my mother uses,” Millicent grinned.

“Hey, that’ll work,” the twins said together.

“Besides,” Fred said to Harry, voice dropping a little, “never did say thank you properly for watching out for Ron and Ginny last term with the beastie.”

“And this is our way of saying let’s let our first interaction at Flying club be bygones,” George said quietly.

“Deal, and no problem at all,” Harry said and he shook their hands.

“Excellent.  See you later,” they said and bounced away, losing themselves into the crowd.

“How do you get used to them?” Pansy asked, sounding tired.  “It’s exhausting when they do that.”

“You kind of just let them be,” Hermione said and the other Gryffindors nodded.  “And hope you’re not the target.”

“Do you two ever do stuff like that?” Sue asked, taking a few hurried steps away when Padma and Parvati glared at her.

“Oh don’t point it out when they do,” Lavender said seriously, “or else they smear stuff into your hair and chase you all over.”

They walked through the doors and went with the flow into the Great Hall.  Harry hugged Luna and waved as she and Padma and Sue went to the Ravenclaw tables.  “See you tomorrow at breakfast?” he asked.

Pansy looked wistful for a second and nodded.  “See you tomorrow.”  She and Millicent waved and walked to the Slytherin tables.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lavender asked worriedly as they sat at the Gryffindor tables.

“I’m okay, and I’ll be okay I think,” Harry said, patting her on the arm soothingly.  “I’ll just have a bit more chocolate later.  I felt better when Professor Lupin shared some with us.”  His eyes lit up when a tiny bit of chocolate cake appeared on the plate before him.

“No fair!” Parvati gasped.  “Dessert before dinner?”

“The House Elves do love him,” Hermione smiled.

“They’re the best,” Harry smiled as he ate it in one bite, feeling even better.

-0-

“If I were either of you two, I would sit a little up a ways,” Daphne Greengrass said when Pansy and Millicent walked to the Slytherin table.  “That is, if you desire some peace while eating.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Pansy said, taking care to sit on the other side of Daphne.  She looked coolly down the table, giving Draco an even cooler look, something the boy returned in kind.

“What crawled up his arse and died?” Millicent asked bluntly.

“Oh the usual,” Tracey Davis said.  “Something about betrayal and House unity and disgrace and then I stopped listening because I got bored.”

“Right, the usual then,” Millicent snorted.

“You do seem to care less and less about Draco as time passes,” Daphne remarked.  “When for the longest time, you two were joined at the hip.”

“Yeah.”  Pansy looked down at the table.  “It does look that way.  It’s not that I care less about him, but more that I care less about what he says and does.”

“Well I will not blame you,” Daphne sniffed.  “I always found him to be petulant.  I never thought you would share the sentiment.”

“He’s getting louder about it too,” Tracey said.  She rolled her eyes.  “In fact, he thinks we all owe him for the ‘improved security’.  Since his daddy was the one that pushed for it.”

“Ugh, that doesn’t surprise me,” Millicent sighed.  “I’m not thanking him.  Dementors are creepy as heck and I don’t want to be near them at all.”

Daphne looked over at the Gryffindor table before turning back.  “Is it worth it?  Being their friends and inviting all,” she made a gesture down the table at a fuming Draco, “that?”

“Yes,” Pansy said firmly.

“Yeah, what she said,” Millicent agreed.

“I suppose you would know,” Daphne said airily.  “So, Zabini tells me that you found some terribly gaudy jewelry in Italy?”

“Zabini has a big mouth,” Pansy laughed.  “And he’s the personification of terribly gaudy.” 

“That’s what I said,” Tracey snickered.

Pansy felt better as the four third year girls chatted and gossiped as they enjoyed the Welcoming Feast.  Every so often she would look past Daphne and Tracey towards the Gryffindor table and would feel stray thoughts passing by.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

32^nd Course – Tracks and Fields

“Right then,” Hagrid said, his voice an excited whisper.  “See here?  When you are trackin’, you have to keep your eyes opened for all sorts of signs.  You see how the branches are bent back here, going slightly against the way the base is growin’.  And you see the indentations here, in the loam.  We’re lucky to see some good sized hoofprints.  Here the loam is thick so it holds tracks well.  If the unicorn was walkin’ on harder packed earth and grass, you wouldn’t see as clear tracks.”

Hagrid had been so proud when he revealed that he was the new Care of Magical Creatures professor.  Having been formally exonerated for his charges at the end of the last term, he spent the summer doing classes and the like and with Professor Kettleburn retiring, he was chosen to teach the course.

Harry was very happy and proud of his friend.  The others were a little unsure, having little interaction with the groundskeeper and new professor.  Not to mention that the beginning of the class had gotten off on a rough start.

“I refuse!” Draco said loudly, crossing his arms.

“Refuse?” Hagrid asked, eyebrows narrowed.

“I refuse to listen to you,” Draco said scathingly.  “You’re barely a magical and I do not believe you have the qualifications to be a professor!”

Hagrid glowered and Draco took a step back, his confidence waning.  “Well now, that’s a funny thing to say considerin’ that I did my work over the summer to become qualified.  Somethin’ the school governors require.  Isn’t your father one of them?”

Draco gaped like a landed fish while others snickered and snorted.

“But fine, you refuse to listen?  No problem.  You can leave the class.  Mine’s an elective so you can leave it if you want.  I’ll let Professor Snape know you dropped it.  Off you go then.”  Hagrid stood there, unyielding like stone, and waited.

Draco, caught, left, face red.  Crabbe and Goyle dutifully followed and the class whispered among themselves.  They started when Hagrid clapped his hands.  “Right then, sorry ‘bout that,” he said, still slightly nervous but smiling wide.  “Let’s get started, shall we?  We’re going to start off with some basic sights you might see at the edges of the Forest.”

He took the class to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, careful to not go too far into the Forest itself.  However, even at the fringes, there was still a plethora of tracks and signs to be seen and observed.  He happily pointed out the fleeting forms of some unicorns in the distance and the class enjoyed seeing the beautiful animals walking together, watching the students warily but not fleeing.

“What’s this?” Pansy asked, finding something caught on some brush.

“Ah unicorn tail hair,” Hagrid said enthusiastically.  “It get’s caught on things here and there.  That one’s a bit broken you see but still very beautiful and useful.  You can keep it.  But don’t let me catch anyone trying to get one from the source.”  He waggled a large finger at the students.  “You’ll either get gored on their horn or kicked into next week and I’ve experienced both and neither are fun.”

“Really?” Millicent gasped, looking up at him while Pansy happily coiled the tail hair and put it in her pocket.

“Well, I’m a bit bigger and tougher so I can handle it,” Hagrid said, waving a hand.

“Aren’t unicorns domesticated?” Parvati asked.

“Some are, but even those can be right ornery.  The ones here are wild and free, nothing domesticated in the Forest,” Hagrid said.  “Another reason no one should be in it without someone that knows what they’re doin’.  It’s wild, and wilder the deeper you get in save for some sanctuary groves and places.  The Forbidden Forest is one of the biggest Hunter trainin’ grounds after all.”

“I want to do that one day,” Ron said softly, eyes shining.

“Hunting?” Neville asked.

“Well, being a Hunter,” Ron said.  He flushed when people turned to look at him.  “You see all sorts of things and you go after big magical creatures for things.  Good Hunters are really needed and cool.”

“They are,” Hagrid agreed.  “I got my own license for it and it’s hard but good work.”  He patted Ron heavily on the shoulder, making the boy’s knees buckle a little.  “Charlie woulda been a good one too, if he didn’t go into the dragon keepin’ business.  You might have the chops for it.”

“Your brother is a dragon keeper?” Harry asked as the class made their way back to Hagrid’s hut, where they started the class.

Ron nodded.  “He’s in Romania at a preserve there.  He loves dragons.  He’s cool.”

“You’ve got a lot of older brothers,” Parvati said.

“I have one more, Bill.  He’s a Curse Breaker, works for Gringotts.  He explores tombs and buried places.”  Ron looked proud.  “He’s cool too.”

“Kinda funny how more pleasant he is now,” Lavender said softly to Harry.  “Guess you only needed to save him from something for him to be nice.”

Harry grinned.  “Not a terrible reason to be friendly I suppose.”

“I guess,” Lavender giggled.

“Awesome first class, Professor,” Harry said to a beaming Hagrid when the class was dismissed.  The rest of the students left to clean up before lunch but Harry hung back a little.

“Thank you!  It means a lot to hear that from you,” Hagrid said, his smile was bright as the sun.  “It was a lot of work over the summer.  I had to take classes about teachin’ and all that.  They even had be build a curriculum and they messed with it a lot.”  He shrugged a little.  “I was plannin’ on introducin’ you lot to hippogriffs first but they said that might be too much too soon.”

“Maybe,” Harry said.  He had no idea of course but he enjoyed seeing Hagrid happy and he was not lying, it was a fun first class.  “So about me going into the Forest with you…”

Hagrid snorted and poked Harry, sending the smaller boy staggering.  “Weren’t you listenin’ in class?”

“I was, and you said we shouldn’t go without being accompanied by a Hunter and since you’re the best Hunter I know, I figured it was safe.”

“I’m the only Hunter you know,” Hagrid said, amused.

“Which doesn’t mean I’m wrong,” Harry countered.  He staggered once more when Hagrid laughed and clapped him on the back.

“Look at you throwin’ my words at me,” Hagrid chuckled.  “Hope you’re not tryin’ for extra credit.”

“I plan on treating your class very seriously,” Harry sniffed.

“I know you are.  Alright, next time I need to go after some boar or somethin’ I’ll clear it with the Headmaster and maybe you can come along.”

“Thanks!”

Hagrid sighed gustily.  “Not even my first day of a professor bein’ over and I’m already playin’ favorites.”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone.”  Harry’s laughter joined Hagrid’s, the happy sounds echoing over the grounds.

-0-

“Ah, Mister Potter, a moment please.”

“Sure thing, Professor Sprout.”  He walked up to her and smiled.

“Did you still want to visit the Hogwarts farms?” she asked.

“Oh, yes please!”

She smiled at his enthusiasm.  “Lovely!  Well I’ll be going tomorrow morning to help with something and I will take you with me.  Meet me in front of Greenhouse One.”

“Thank you!”  Harry’s eyes were bright and eager.  “Who are the ones that work the fields?”

“The House Elves.  There are some whose full-time jobs are fieldwork.  I think the head farmer used to be a magical as well but eventually the House Elves took over the positions entirely, as most of the Hogwarts branches have.”

“Is there a hat with a pitchfork stabbed through it or something?” Harry asked.

“Now that you mention it, there is!  How did you know?”

Harry grinned.  “There’s a chef’s toque with a knife stabbed through it, pinning it to the wall.  The Headmaster mentioned it belonged to the last magical that tried to control the kitchens.”

Sprout laughed.  “We will have to ask the elves tomorrow.  It wouldn’t surprise me if they had the same origin story.”

-0-

Harry shook his head slowly, feeling the world slowly going still.  “I think I’m getting used to apparition.”

“You’re doing very well,” Sprout said, patting his back.  “Most younger or first timers tend to vomit everywhere.”  When Harry collected himself and straightened, Sprout proudly gestured around them.  “Welcome to Hogwarts Farms!”

Harry gasped with delight.  The fields were like he imagined them to be, from what he had read and seen briefly on the telly.  The fields were broad and expansive, lovingly maintained and orderly.  Crops grew in long rows and were separated with plots separated by wooden fences.  The air was heavy with the rich earthy scent of soil and greenery.  The House Elves that worked there wore the titular Hogwarts toga that all the elves at Hogwarts wore, but they also wore heavy boots and gloves.  Many had straw hats with slits cut out for their ears and more than a few had kerchiefs or towels around their necks.

Golden wheat and sunny brown barley swayed in the wind, heads heavy and close to ripening.  Greenish-brown oats moved slowly with the wind, looking lives waves in an inland green sea.  The tops of carrots and potatoes were thick and flourishing, their leaves broad and bright.  Beans hung from poles or under leaves, the pods glistening with healthy growth.

“Wow, it’s so big,” Harry gasped.

“This is the main set of fields,” Sprout said proudly.  “The vast majority of the main foodstuffs for the castle is grown here.  Surplus crops are traded for the things we don’t grow.  Out past the fields are the barns for the pigs, sheep, and cattle as well as the coops for the chickens.”

“Are they grown with magic?”

“To a degree.  House Elves do everything with their magic, since they’re magical beings, more so than us magical humans.  The majority of things are grown with the seasons like they normally would but the soil is very rich and the fertilizer and care is magical in nature.  So our crops are hardier and have bigger yields.  There are smaller fields that grow things out of season but are smaller because that is more difficult.  Need more care and magic to control.  But with the magic, we can sometimes have multiple harvests but we have to be careful and not overtax the soil.  Plus food grown with too much magic have a different quality to them.”

“Like cooking with magic,” Harry said.

“Precisely.  When Filius told us of that discovery, it made a lot of sense.”  She smiled when a few of the House Elves approached them.  “And here are the heads of the farms.  Harry, meet Wheatly.  He’s the main farmer in charge of the fields.  Roosty is the head of the ranching.  They’re the best at what they do.”

“Nice to meet you,” Harry said, smiling at Wheatly and Roosty.  “You two must be outstanding in your fields.”

Wheatley blinked.  “Wheatley works in the fields so yes, Wheatley stands in them.”

Roosty blinked too.  “Roosty tends to the herds and flocks, so less field standing.”

Sprout groaned and covered her eyes.  “That was a terrible joke, Mister Potter, and I would take points for it if I could.”

Harry grinned sheepishly.  “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

Wheatley and Roosty grinned once the joke was explained.  “Roosty likes wizardling Harry,” Roosty giggled.  “He is like the others said.”

“Not many, well not any, wizardlings or witchlings visited the fields in a long time,” Wheatley said. 

“I’ve cooked a lot of things with your wonderful product,” Harry said and the two heads smiled wide.  “Oh speaking of.”  He opened his school bag and took out some boxes.  “I made some snacks for all of you.”

“You have?!” Wheatley and Roosty exclaimed together.  In a very short time, all the House Elves in the farms came over and they chattered happily as the saw what Harry brought. 

“I made boiled eggs and granola,” Harry said, smiling as the elves ate happily and eagerly.  “Protein for fullness and grains and sweets for energy.”

“Mmm,” Sprout hummed appreciatively.  “Nothing bad about a nice hard-boiled egg with a bit of salt.  This granola is nice too.  What is it?”

“Oats baked with honey.  You can add all sorts of things to it and eat it with yogurt or form it into bites like I did here with some dried fruit.  It’s a simple snack that’s pretty healthy usually if you don’t go overboard with the sweet things.”

“This made with our things?” Wheatly asked, eyes bright.

Harry nodded.  “Except for the honey and the dried fruit.  I got it all from Quarters.”

“Wizardling Harry is very good cook and very kind,” Roosty said, her mouth full as she munched on a hard-boiled egg.

“He wanted to visit and get to know how the things are grown and cared for,” Sprout said proudly.  “Would you mind taking him on a tour and answering his questions while I take a look at the weed that is in the beans?”

“Of course!” Roosty said.  “We take good care.  Come come!  We show!”

Harry was deeply impressed with the farms.  They showed him how they cared for the animals and crops, at how everything was organized.  The elves worked hard but were in good spirits, happy with their work and effort.  The pens and coops and barns were very clean and the animals within looked healthy, treated very well.

“Do you butcher them here?” Harry asked.

“Usually,” Roosty said.  “We very careful.  Take good care of them and they take good care of us.”

“Are there a lot of predators that come in?”  Harry looked off into the distance where he could see the edges of the Forbidden Forest.

“Oh yes,” Roosty said.  “Most of the time, we keep them out and keep ours safe.  Sometimes they sneak in and we can’t stop them.  If they especially pesky or dangerous, we call for Hagrid.”

“Boar and deer break in to eat crops a lot,” another elf said.  “We usually pretty good at keeping them out too but sometimes we have to hunt them too.  Save for ourselves or school.”

“Thank you for working so hard,” Harry said and the elves beamed happily.  “You can taste how good the things are, at school.  I noticed a difference between what I can get here versus what I get away.”

“Is hard work, but good work,” Roosty said solemnly.  “Hearing wizardling Harry say that though makes us proud and happy.”

Eventually Sprout finished her work, identifying the weed and worked out a natural way to eliminate it with Wheatly and the other field elves.  After a little more exploration, Harry left with Sprout, happy to have visited and seen the fields.  The farming elves all thanked Harry for coming and for the treats, and promised to come visit him when they came back to the castle when they did.

“That was really interesting,” Harry said once he and Sprout returned to the castle, apparating back to a secure point near the grounds and walking up the rest of the way.

“I’m glad you thought so,” she said warmly.  “It would be good if others shared your interest in what they ate and where it came from.”  Her warmth faded as she cast a wary look at some patrolling Dementors.  “Come along, let’s not tarry.”

Harry did as she said, hurrying after her eagerly though he almost stopped once he heard the voices again.  He still had no idea what that was about and his desire to learn more almost overcame his desire to run away from the magical beings.  Once they crossed over the threshold of the grounds proper, the malaise of the Dementors faded.

“Ghastly things,” Sprout sniffed.  She noticed how Harry looked.  “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, shivering in the bright sunlight.

She patted his back gently.  “Hopefully things will be resolved soon and those Dementors can be sent back to Azkaban.”

Harry nodded in agreement but as he followed her back into the castle, he found his gaze drifting over to the patrolling Dementors once more, unable to look away.

-0-

“You look tanner,” Lavender said when Harry reappeared in the common room after a shower.

“Do I?”  Harry looked down at his bare arms.

“Just a little,” Parvati said. 

“I was in the sun all day,” he said.  “The farms are super cool and fascinating.”  He described what he saw to them.

“Oh wow, that does sound really impressive,” Hermione said.  “I’m surprised you didn’t go with him.”

Neville shrugged.  “I guess I prefer magical plants.  Plus I had to catch up on homework.”

“You’re like Professor Sprout, that’s what she said too,” Harry smiled.  “She said magical plants are more feisty and interesting.”

“Are there like, completely magical fruits or vegetables?  Stuff that only magicals eat and Muggles don’t or can’t?” Lavender asked.

“I mean, a big chunk of what we use for potions is magical only,” Neville said thoughtfully.  “I’m not sure if there are any purely magical fruits or vegetables.  There’re ones grown with magic obviously, or have magical relations, but I don’t know honestly.”

“There’s different breeds of magical animals that are equivalent to Muggle breeds,” Harry said.  “I read ahead in our Care textbook.  Some are found naturally but others were bred that way.  Like there are salamander chickens, ones that live on active volcanos and their eggs are hot to touch.”

“Oooh, I wonder if they’re spicy,” Parvati giggled.  “Like, naturally spicy.”

“There has to be magical creatures that magicals eat, or else Hunters wouldn’t really be a thing,” Harry mused.  “It’s all so interesting.”

Lavender’s stomach gurgled and she flushed.  “Now I’m hungry, talking about eating.”

“We could probably go to the kitchens for snacks, but let’s go to the clubroom,” Harry suggested.  “I can make us something, I’m sure.  I haven’t made an order for a lot of things yet but I think there’s stuff in the ice box or the pantry cabinet.  Enough to make something to snack on.”

“Ooh yes please!” Lavender smiled.

-0-

“Whoa, I thought you said you haven’t made any orders yet,” Parvati said when she opened the ice box. 

“I haven’t, why?” Harry asked as he walked over.

“It’s full of eggs,” Parvati said, pointing at the large bowl filled with eggs.

“I cooked all the ones I got yesterday for the elves today,” Harry gasped.  He smiled when he picked one up to look at.  “I think these are from the Farm Elves.  There’re some bunches of spring onions too.  I saw those this morning when I was there.  That’s so nice of them!”

He looked at Parvati.  “How about making some roti and we can wrap them around scrambled eggs and spring onion?”

“That sounds great!  I’m all for it,” she said eagerly.

“Let’s make some extra and leave it for the Elves,” Harry said.  “To thank them for all this.”

“Better go get Padma,” Parvati sighed, rolling her eyes.  “If she knows we made roti and didn’t involve her, we’d never hear the end of it.”

“We or you?” Lavender asked with a smile.

“Both.  I’d never hear the end of it and I’d make sure you lot wouldn’t hear the end of it,” Parvati chortled.

“I’ll go to Ravenclaw tower,” Hermione said.  She hesitated.  “Should someone go to the dungeons for Pansy and Millicent?”

“I’ll go, I remember where the Slytherin common room is from first year,” Lavender said.

“Then we’ll get started on making the roti,” Harry said.  “Come on Neville, you can do it too.”

“Sure, if you show me,” Neville said enthusiastically.

By the time Lavender returned with Pansy and Millicent and Hermione came back with Padma, Luna, and Sue, the other three were rolling out the rotis and starting to make a pile of them.  “If you guys help with making more, I’ll start on the eggs,” Harry said, wiping his hands clean of flour.

“What brought this about?” Pansy asked as she helped roll out the dough and form the roti.

“I was talking about visiting the farms today and we were talking about magical vegetables and fruits and meat and things and we got peckish,” Harry said.  He chopped the spring onion thinly and on a bias, making long strands of them.  He put two pans on the stove, warming them up over the flame.

“You visited the farms?” Sue asked.  “Actually, Hogwarts has farms?”

Harry nodded and described them again to the newcomers.  “Say, Luna, you know a lot about magical creatures.  Are there purely magical animals that magicals eat that aren’t really in the Muggle world?”

Luna nibbled on a bit of raw spring onion.  “Dragons of course.”

“People eat dragons?” Hermione asked, eyes wide.

“Oh yes, some dragons are prized for consumption,” Pansy said and Millicent nodded.  “Dragon meat is a high-profile meat and some are expensive.”

“What do they taste like?” Lavender asked.

“Depends on the type of dragon,” Luna said.  “But like very tough beef.  Though Daddy and I usually eat the jerky when we travel so it might be more the jerky form.”

“She’s not wrong,” Pansy said.  “Most are like very rich red meat or beef.  With a very distinctly different taste.”

“I wonder if they taste like alligator,” Harry said.  “I’ve never had alligator but apparently it’s something they eat in the United States.  Some states anyways.”

“Other than dragon, some eat hippogriff.  I’ve heard of certain types of salamanders and jackalopes,” Luna continued.  “Depends on the culture really I think.”

“Wow, it’s really interesting to know that Hogwarts gets a big part of the food locally and it’s a part of Hogwarts,” Sue said.

“In Hogwarts, A History, they mentioned when Hogwarts was first founded, they tried to make things as self-sustainable as possible,” Hermione said.  “But I suppose most people aren’t as interested in that so they don’t really go too in-depth over it later on.  My parents have gotten into trying to order locally as much as possible.  Going to Farmer’s Markets and the like but of course you can’t get everything there.”

“We have to order through specialty markets for things we want,” Sue said.  “Since a lot of it isn’t made here.  Or family from overseas sends it to us”

“Same,” Parvati and Padma said together.

“Don’t draw attention,” Lavender whispered loudly, pulling a towel over her hair and ducking when Parvati flung some spring onion scraps at her.

“I get things at the local supermarket.  The Dursleys sometimes care about getting expensive ingredients to show off but they usually want me to get a deal on things,” Harry said.  “What about you?  How does your family get groceries?”

Pansy looked sheepish.  “I honestly have no idea.  Our House Elves take care of it.”

“Same,” Millicent.

“I don’t know really either,” Neville confessed.  “The House Elves order things and either go get it or it’s delivered I think but I don’t know where.  They have an allowance from the house funds and just handle it.”

“I wonder if there’s a general market for magicals,” Harry mused.  “From when I talk to Quarters, there really isn’t.  He trades and barters with farmers that sell their things to Hogwarts directly and interacts with House Elves of the other major shipping groups for groceries for the school.”

He beat the eggs together with salt and pepper, and poured the mixture into a pan after melting a pat of butter into it and sauteing the spring onion until they picked up a little color.  Stirring the golden mixture flexed with black and shot through with strands of green and white, he scrambled it all until soft curds formed and browned ever so slightly on the edges.

All this time, with Padma and Parvati in charge, the others had been cooking the roti in the pan, making them brown and crackling on either side with a little butter brushed on and cooked until pliable and soft in the pan.  He dolloped spoonfuls of the scrambled eggs and spring onions into each and they were rolled into tubular sandwiches and eaten happily,

“There’s some ketchup in the ice box too,” Harry said.  “And there’s soy sauce and chili oil still too.”

“Ooh, that sounds good,” Parvati said and she and Sue poured small amounts of the fiery red condiment onto their eggs.

“My mouth burns just from looking at it,” Neville laughed.

“We’ll get you there one day,” Parvati said with a full mouth.  She fanned her mouth, cooling the heat from the oil and the eggs.  “One day, you’ll be a spice fiend just like us.”

“Or just a fiend,” Harry teased.

“Hey!  Since when do you tease me?!” Parvati gasped, glowering when Padma and Harry high-fived.

“Mmm, this hits the spot,” Lavender said happily, chewing on the roti wrapped eggs.  “Creamy eggs, chewy roti, and the spring onions are nice and fresh!”

“I think I am getting a taste for things,” Pansy remarked as she ate another rolled sandwich.  “These eggs taste wonderful and the spring onions are so fresh like Lavender said.  Over the summer I had beef wellington from two different places and I could taste a difference in how they were made and the ingredients.  It’s one of my favorite things so I paid more attention to it.”

“Oh like when you said you thought my quiche was really good compared to another,” Harry laughed and she beamed.  “I think they do an amazing job running the farms here so no wonder the produce and things are great.”

“Thanks for getting us,” Millicent said and the others from the other two Houses echoed their thanks.  “It’s cool that Flitwick lets you use the room like this.”

“Better make some extra for him too, just in case.  I sorta forgot to ask for permission first,” Harry chuckled.

“Inky and the others are keeping an eye on us,” Luna said.  She pointed at a plate that had several roti and eggs on it before and was empty now.

The time passed pleasantly as they made more of both eggs and roti, talking and chatting and eating.  Harry felt better, being in the midst of his friends and doing what he liked.  Seeing them eat happily, thanking him and enjoying his company made him feel warm and content.  A far cry from what he felt while at Number 4, Privet Drive.

Thankful and content. 

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

33^rd Course – Understanding

The wardrobe rattled, shaking slightly on its four legs.  Something was obviously within and it was restless, making the piece of furniture move about when it should not.  The class of third year students looked at it with expressions ranging from apprehension to interest.

“Would anyone like to hazard a guess at what is within?” Remus asked pleasantly.  “I will offer some hints.  It prefers dark spaces and has a nebulous form.”

“Does that mean you should know what it is?” Seamus asked Neville.

“He didn’t say Nevillous,” Neville snorted.

“Is it a crake?  I’ve heard that they’re hard to see,” Padma asked. 

“What’s a crake?” Lavender asked.

Remus smiled.  “A good guess but no.  Crakes are very large cave spiders that have some mild camouflaging abilities, so they don’t appear as much of anything until you get very close.  But they are still, distinctly, a spider.”

Ron shuddered.  “That’s terrifying.”

“Not a fan of spiders?” Remus asked kindly.  At Ron’s vehement headshaking, he smiled wryly.  “Stay away from the Forest then.  There’s an acromantula colony in there.  Thankfully very far and deep into the Forest, but don’t want to happen on one of those either.”

“There’re acromantulas in the Forest?”  Terry Boot looked incredulous.  “How did they get there?  I thought they weren’t native to Britain.”

Remus coughed.  “Not too many people know how really,” he said evasively.  “But let’s get back on topic.  Another hint, no two people can agree on the shape of this magical creature because it will almost never share the same appearance from one person to another.”

“Oh, a boggart!” Hermione said.

“Correct, two points to Gryffindor.  There is in fact, a boggart in the wardrobe.”  Remus flicked his wand and a bit of chalk began writing on the blackboard.  “Boggarts are creatures that use fear as a defense mechanism.  They use their magic to divine a person’s greatest fear and transforms into it.”

Harry grimaced.  “How did it develop that?  Sounds terrible.”

“A good question and one we don’t quite know,” Remus replied.  “Magical creatures are a bit different in the sense that they came about magically or were previously mundane creatures that were exposed to magic and then became magical.  So while boggarts might have had a non-magical ancestor, it is unsure what it was.  Reports of boggarts have been around for ages now and in fact, the Muggle phenomenon of a ‘boogey-man’ can be attributed to Muggles running into boggarts in the wild.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes when a good portion of the class started snickering.  “Boogey-man, not bogey-man.”

“I’m kind of scared of a bogey-man,” Lavender giggled.

“Fear is a primal response for many beings, human and animal,” Remus continued.  “So it actually is an effective self-defense tactic.  Like in most frightening situations, keeping a level head is one of the best ways to combat fear.  For us, there is a charm that can help you combat the fear-form that the boggart takes.  The Boggart-Banishing Spell does as it is named, banishing the boggart from you and the incantation is Riddikulus.  You must focus on something that is the opposite of fear, laughter.  Focus on something that makes you laugh, picture it in your head, and then cast the spell.  With strength of mind, the boggart will be forced from what you fear most into what you laugh at most, robbing it of its strength.  Eventually the boggart will weaken and flee or dissolve into nothingness if it cannot.”

After some more lecturing, Remus looked at the class.  “Would anyone like to try and confront the boggart and cast the spell?”

The class looked at each other, no one quite willing to go first.  After some whispers and people pointedly looking away, Remus pointed at someone.  “Mister Weasley, come on, how about you give it a go?”

Ron paled a little.  “I don’t know…”

“I think you can do it,” Remus said kindly.  “Come on then.”  He waited patiently for Ron to reluctantly approach the front of the class.  “I’ll be right beside you.  Remember, breathe deep, try to remain calm, picture what would make you laugh in your head, and cast.  Be confident.  Ready?”

“No Sir.”

“Right you are then.”  Remus waved his wand and the door to the wardrobe opened and everyone screamed when an immense spider crept from the wardrobe.  It was very large and towered over everyone.  It hissed malevolently, its mandibles making terribly clicking noises at it crept forward.

Ron was paralyzed by fear, staring at the gigantic arachnid.

“You can do it!” Remus said encouragingly.

Ron’s hand trembled a little but flicked his wand.  “Riddikulus!”  The gigantic spider suddenly inflated, all parts of it becoming a very large and fat balloon.  When it hissed, it sounded like air escaping a balloon and it started spinning in place, legs flailing impotently while it continued to make the loud long wheezing noise.

“Well done!” Remus praised while the rest of the class laughed appreciatively.  A smile blossomed on Ron’s face and he looked happy and smug while the spider-balloon continued to deflate.  “Miss Li!  You’re next.”

Sue came up and when she stood in front of the spinning spider, it stopped moving and fell to the stone floor.  The form shifted and the spider became a person.  It rose jerkily to its feet, its skin deathly pale and eyes blank and unseeing.  Fangs filled its mouth and it wore traditional Chinese clothing, long garments of dark blue with yellow-gold trim.  It screamed loudly and hopped towards Sue with arms outstretched.

“Riddikulus!” she shouted, her own eyes wide.

The jiangshi screamed once more, but in confusion when it was stuck to a pogo stick and it started bouncing about erratically.  It had no control of its movements, bouncing all over like a chaotic rubber ball and its arms whipped around without strength.  A long yellow strip of fabric appeared on the brim of its hat and fell forward, making it go limp as it continued to hop about without rhyme or reason.

“Clever!”  Remus applauded and the rest of the class did too.  “Mister Finnegan, come up.”

Seamus came up, looking confident.  The confidence wilted when the hopping vampire turned into a thin and skeletal woman that floated over the ground.  Long and ragged hair flew about and she stretched out an arm, the long fingers ended in longer nails and she began to wail, an eerie sound that make the skin pucker and the hair stand on end. 

However, Seamus’ Boggart-Banishing spell took her breath away, literally.  The banshee began to cough and hack, holding her throat.  She sounded like someone in the throes of a coughing fit, sneezing and sounding completely and utterly miserable.

“Sounds like me when I last had the flu,” Remus smiled, making the students laugh appreciatively.  “Excellently done.  Mister Corner, how about you?”

Michael’s fear manifested as a very large bat with terrifyingly long fangs and bleeding eyes.  It chased him around for a few moments but Michael managed to cast the spell, turning the bloodthirsty vampire bat into a tiny mouse that scurried about in an agitated fashion.

Then Harry was called.  He walked to the front, not entirely confident but not completely afraid himself.  He stood at the ready, wand outstretched and waited.  Remus stood close to him, ready to take over

The tiny mouse stopped and looked up at Harry before it started to change.  It grew in size rapidly, fur turning into cloth, becoming a long and ragged cloak.  The cloak swallowed the form and it hovered over Harry menacingly, making an awful rattling noise as it reached for him.

“-he’s here!  Take-and run!”

Harry shook his head as the malaise dragged on him, drowning him. 

“Please, not H-!  Anything but him!”

“Get out of the way, you foolish girl!”

Harry flicked his wand weakly.  “Riddikulus,” he gasped but nothing happened. 

“Kill me instead!  Not my baby!”

Harry felt himself be pushed back and Remus stood in front of the boggart-Dementor and backhanded it with his left hand, staring unflinchingly into the black depths of the cowled head.  The boggart-Dementor hissed angrily and it shifted again.  Cloak became fur once more but instead of a small mouse, a large werewolf stood there.  It towered over them and its hide had scars carved into it.  It growled menacingly, amber-grey eyes staring with menace.

“Riddikulus,” Remus incanted calmly and the werewolf turned into a tiny duckling.  It quacked indignantly before it was banished back into the wardrobe, making squeaky noises of protests before the door slammed shut.

Silence rang in the classroom with everyone looking all over the place.  Some focused on the spot where the werewolf was, others stared at the wardrobe that was still.  A few looked at their professor while finally, a few looked at Harry.

Remus’ clapped his hands, startling everyone.  “Well then, that was a bit exciting, wasn’t it?  Well done all.  Two points to everyone that faced the boggart.  I would like an essay on the origins of boggarts as well as an example of its appearance in recorded history, due at next class.  Off you go, everyone.  Mister Potter, please remain for a moment.”

Harry nodded, still shivering slightly and his heart pounded.  He put his things away slowly and smiled wanly at his worried friends.  After a few words of comfort from them, and a hug from Lavender and Parvati, he went back to Remus.

“Harry, how are you feeling?” Remus asked worriedly.

“I’m okay,” Harry sighed.  He smiled a little at Remus’ disbelieving snort.  “No really, I’m okay.  Just…a little upset.”

“Only a little?  You have nothing to be upset about.  Facing your fears is something that is difficult for many people.  Dementors are fear creatures like boggarts, except they weaponize fear instead of using it as a defense mechanism.  They drain a person of positive thought and energy, using their fears and dark thoughts against them.”

“That’s horrifying,” Harry said.  “And they are the guards at Azkaban?”

Remus nodded solemnly.  “It is a terribly place for many reasons.  Many prisoners go mad and eventually die from being around them for too long.”

“Except for Sirius Black,” Harry said softly.

Remus looked away.  “Yes, except for him.”

“I wonder how he withstood them for so long.  I heard he was there for a long time.”

“Twelve years,” Remus said quietly.  “A very long time for anyone.”  He shook his head.  “He was a person of exceptional stubbornness.  Perhaps that is what helped him endure.”

Harry frowned a little.  “Did you know him?”

Remus froze before sighing deeply.  “Yes, rather, I thought I did.  We were classmates while we attended Hogwarts together.”  He sighed again.  “No, I am doing nothing for anyone for phrasing it like that.  He and I were close friends.”

“Really?!  Does that mean he was friends with my parents too?”

“Yes, he and James were best friends,” Remus said sadly, looking at Harry with eyes filled with pain.  “We all were, including Peter.”

“Peter.  Wasn’t the wizard that was murdered named Peter?”

“Yes, one and the same,” Remus said softly.

“He murdered his friend and those Muggles?” Harry gasped.

“Yes,” Remus said, his voice a whisper.  “And I never knew why.”  A flicker of emotion ran through his eyes, anger and loss and pain running together.  “And that was not the worst of it.”

“What else did he do?” Harry asked, not wanting to learn more but he could not help himself from asking. 

“Not now,” Remus said at last.  “I can’t.  Forgive me.”

“No, it’s okay, it doesn’t sound good,” Harry said.  He gave Remus a sympathetic look.  “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Remus sighed.  The silence built between them.

“I…hear voices when I’m near a Dementor,” Harry said.

“Voices?”

“Yeah, I think two men and a woman.  One of the men sounds really bad, like really bad while the other two sound scared.”  He did not go further into detail, unsure if he wanted to tell Remus because of how preposterous it sounded.  Not to mention how scary it sounded.

“Hmm.”  Remus hummed in thought.  “I can’t say I’ve heard of that side effect but I will do some research.  Until then, it might be best to avoid them if you can.”

Harry grinned.  “No arguments there.”

Remus was glad to see him smile.  “Splendid.  Let’s go to lunch then, shall we?  I’m as hungry as a w-“  His voice died away and he too looked haunted for a moment, like Harry did moments prior.

“As a Welsh pixie?” Harry offered.

Remus smiled, his spirits rising.  “You smile but I’ve seen ten of them devour a fruiting tree bare within minutes.  Ravenous things they can be, and a right pain in the arse too.”

-0-

“Hey, you okay?” Parvati asked when Harry joined them at the table.

“I’m okay,” he said with a small smile.  “Had a nice talk with Professor Lupin.”

“That’s good.”  She patted his arm.  “Boggarts are already scary enough and you made it even scarier.  Don’t feel too bad.  I’m glad I didn’t go up.  I don’t think the world would survive with two Padmas.”

Padma smiled while the others snorted and laughed.  “Please, you and I both know that we would see Grandmum chasing us down.”

“Oh yeah no, you’re right,” Parvati said, shuddering theatrically.

“What was that thing that manifested for you?” Hermione asked Sue.

“A jiangshi,” Sue grimaced.  “Scared of those things so much.  Hopping vampires.  I had cousins tell me about them and once pretended to have one jump at me while visiting a crypt.  The only thing that made me stop being so scared is imagining them hopping around wildly like that.”

“It looked and sounded scary,” Hermione said, shivering a little.

“Ugh, the boggart?” Millicent asked as she and Pansy joined them.  “That was scary.”

“Did you two go against it?” Lavender asked.

“No, I had no desire to,” Pansy said, shaking her head with Millicent doing the same.  “I don’t even want to imagine what I would see.”

“A very big Sunny tearing up your clothes,” Harry joked.

Pansy smiled while the others laughed.  “That is a lot closer to the truth than you think.”  A loud crackle of thunder made them look up at the enchanted ceiling.  The ceiling of the Great Hall was charmed to reflect the weather outside and it roiled with heavy grey clouds and thunder made the air shiver.  “It’s going to storm,” Pansy sighed with distaste.

“You’re in the dungeons, can you hear when it storms?” Parvati asked.

“No, but it means sitting outdoors for the Quidditch game will be miserable,” Pansy said. 

“Oh that’s true,” Lavender said, making a face.  “Better wear rain coats.”

“At least we won’t be playing in the storm,” Padma said prosaically.

“They really play Quidditch in all weather?” Hermione asked.

“If you’re crazy enough,” Parvati said.  “One of our cousins got struck by lightning once.”

“Same one that concussed himself?” Lavender giggled.

“Yes, the not very smart one,” Padma smiled.

“Was he smart before he did all that stuff?” Neville asked.

“Not terribly,” the Patils said together.

“You lot might have a reason to skive,” Millicent said to the Ravenclaws.  “Unfortunately us green and red people have to go to show team spirit and House unity and all that.”

“Eh, part of the fun of Quidditch is seeing how they get plowed by the Bludger,” Parvati said airily.  “Especially if it’s someone you don’t like.  Oh, whoops, sorry,” she said sheepishly to the Slytherins.

Millicent smiled broadly.  “No need to apologize to me.  Also, Draco isn’t our favorite person right now anyways and he’s a bit pissy at us as it is.”

Pansy looked like she should not be smiling, but a smile grew on her lips nonetheless.  “Pissy at me really, you’re mostly blameless.”

“At least until I cackled like a cackling stump filled with pixie dust,” Millicent shrugged and snickered.

“What did you do?” Harry asked.

“Well, Draco made a snide comment about me looking like a pig or a pug for my greatest fear,” Pansy said a trifle frostily.  Her smile grew pointed.  “I replied that at least I wouldn’t see my father striding out of the wardrobe and he took that rather poorly.”

“Ouch, that had to hit him where it hurt,” Parvati said admiringly.

“He didn’t dare volunteer after that,” Millicent snorted.  “I think once the thought was in his head, he got too scared of it.”

Pansy chuckled a little with the rest before growing somber.  “It was rude of me to say that.”

“He was rude first,” Harry said and the others nodded with agreement.

Pansy smiled wanly.  “Yes, but is that any excuse to be rude back?”

“Are you kidding?  That is how Parvati and I operate on a normal basis,” Padma said.

“Mutually assured rudeness,” Parvati nodded sagely.

“I told her already,” Millicent said.  “That’s something us Society girls are taught though.  Be the first to make a quasi-rude comment, not the second, and then take the high road to maintain moral superiority.”

“Sounds boring,” the Patil twins said together, making everyone laugh.

-0-

“I can’t see anything!” Lavender shouted against the roaring wind and pounding rain.

Just like Pansy had said, the storm swept over the grounds and countryside surrounding the castle.  Sheets of rain slammed into the ground, driven by the tempest and wind.  Lightning cracks filled the dark sky, sending jagged shadows everywhere. 

The watching students huddled on the stands, covering themselves with cloaks and coats, holding onto flapping clothes and useless umbrellas.  Within moments, they were already soaked.  The figures of the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams moved in the sky, looking like flashes of red and green in the rain and wind.

“How can people play in this?” Harry shouted back.

“Maybe we should have stayed indoors!” Hermione said loudly.

Harry and his friends sat close together, huddling for some comfort.  Everyone looked miserable in varying degrees, from faintly to distinctly.  Suddenly the rain seemed to break slightly, going from heavy to steady.  A wave of noticeable relief ran through the student watchers and they sat up a little, no longer needing to stay hunched over.

“I can hear myself think again,” Millicent groaned with relief.

“Poor you,” Pansy smiled.

“Oh no, I can hear you think out loud again,” Millicent groaned with faux-irritation.

“Millicent’s right, it’s weirdly quiet,” Harry said, looking around.  He shuddered all of a sudden, breathing in and out.  His breathing began to mist, becoming visible.  “We should go,” he said, recognizing the feeling that was starting to crawl over him.

“Why?” Sue asked, alarmed.

“Oh no,” Lavender gasped.  She pointed and they turned and saw dark forms floating closer to the pitch.  The high emotions from the Quidditch game had drawn the attention of the Dementors and they hungered for them.  They flew onto the grounds towards the pitch, like moths drawn to the light.  The magical creatures lost themselves to their hunger and dove towards the players and watchers alike.

Bursts of silver light came from some of the professors, shapes and things drove the Dementors back but there were too many of the latter and not enough of the former.  A few of the Dementors slipped past and came close, arms reaching, cowls rattling.

“Enact a perimeter around the stands,” Dumbledore ordered.  He was incensed by this intrusion, a clear loss of control by the Ministry.  He rose and held his wand steady.  “Expecto Patronum!”  A silvery phoenix burst forth from his wand and it flew into a crowd of Dementors, sending them flying back.  Patroni cast by others capable of the charm began running circuits around the stands, creating sanctuary zones for the students within.  Remus went onto the pitch and his efforts protected the Quidditch teams as they came down to earth.

Lavender screamed as a Dementor slipped past a darting silver cat, coming straight for her.  Harry stood and pushed her back into Parvati and Padma and as if scenting tastier prey, the Dementor turned its full focus on Harry.  He reeled back, the malaise from the Dementor washing over him completely.

“Lily!  He’s here!  Take Harry and run!”

Lily.  The name rang in Harry’s mind, protruding from his memories.  Cold cruel laughter oozed up from the depths.

“Step aside, you foolish girl.”

“No, not Harry!  Anything but him!”

“I only want to kill the boy.  The father already lies dead, no need for you to join them.”

“Kill me instead!”

“As you wish.”

Harry’s scream of horrid realization mingled with Lily’s scream of defiance and terror and Voldemort’s scream of victory.  As the Dementor’s hand almost touched him, a trio of silver cats slammed into it, driving it back.  McGonagall appeared near them, furiously pushing her Patroni on, driving the Dementor back.

Harry’s knees gave way and he crumpled, his senses leaving him.  Pansy and Millicent caught him before he could hit the stands, pulling him back to safety.  “Harry!” Pansy cried.  “Harry, are you okay?  Say something!”

He did not, despite the pleas of his friends.  He lay there, lost in a nightmare.

-0-

Harry blinked slowly, feeling heavy-headed and confused.  He coughed weakly, trying to rise.

“Careful there,” Pomfrey said gently, coming over to him when she heard him cough.  “You’re still a bit delicate.”

“I’m not delicate,” he protested weakly and automatically.

“Well, he’s still Harry, thank goodness,” Pomfrey joked lightly, breathing a sigh of relief.  She helped him put his glasses back on and Harry blinked owlishly.  The people around the Infirmary bed swam into focus and he saw Pomfrey, Remus, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Dumbledore there. 

“How are you feeling?” Dumbledore asked kindly.

“Okay…I think,” Harry said.  “I still feel really tired.  What happened?”

“Dementors,” Remus scowled.  “They came onto the grounds when they had no right to.  The emotions from the game drew them in and they went hungry.”

“We were able to drive them off and protect the students though some, like you, became exposed,” Flitwick said angrily. 

“Cornelius and I had words,” Dumbledore said quietly, his eyes blazing.  “They will be kept on a much shorter leash now and we will have more protections.”

“They’re still going to be here after this incident?!” Pomfrey gasped.

“Unfortunately,” Dumbledore sighed wearily.  “With Black still at large, Cornelius was loathe to completely remove them.  I have lobbied my complaints with the governors and we will have to wait and see what happens next.”

“The man should have a few in his home and see how he likes it,” McGonagall spat.

“I have made that suggestion and he soundly pretended not to hear it,” Dumbledore said dryly.  He coughed.  “Forgive us Harry, I’m sure you do not want to hear us bicker and gossip like this.”

“Don’t mind me,” Harry replied with a small smile.

The professors, the Matron, and the Headmaster chuckled.  “You had the most severe case of exposure,” Pomfrey said.  “But it’s only been an hour or so, thank goodness.”

“Do I have to stay?” Harry asked.  “Not that I don’t enjoy your company, Madam Pomfrey, but I remember you saying you don’t like it when I make you work more.”

“Perhaps I’ll keep you around and help me tidy up to make up for it,” she said, waggling a finger at him.

“Now now,” Flitwick smiled, “as industrious as Harry’s hard work is, I think you’d enjoy a different type of recompense.”  He winked broadly at Harry.

“Against my better judgement, an alternative recovery plan was decided upon,” Pomfrey smiled.  “But you will return here tomorrow for a follow up check.  Or else-“

“-or else you’ll hunt me down.  Thank you,” Harry said gratefully.  He hesitated for a moment.  “I…I need to ask you something, Professor Lupin and Headmaster, Sir.”

“Of course.”  Dumbledore waited for Flitwick, McGonagall, and Pomfrey to move away and he drew the curtains around the space for privacy.  Remus leaned on a stool beside them.  “What is it?”

“Do…do Dementors force you to remember things?” Harry asked after some thought.

“Yes and no,” Remus said.  “They block access to your happy memories while devouring your happier thoughts and emotions.  This in turn forces you to dwell on darker things, making you spiral as you can only think of bad times while feeling negative emotions.”

“Did you remember something?” Dumbledore asked softly.

Harry nodded.  “I…I told Professor Lupin that I hear voices when I’m near them, but I think it’s a memory because it’s the same voices each time.  With each time I’m close to them, I hear more of what they’re saying.”

He took a deep breath.  “I think…I hear my mum and my dad.”

“Dear Merlin,” Remus gasped.

“And…” Harry’s voice died.

“Voldemort?” Dumbledore whispered, horrified.

“Yes.  I hear my dad tell my mum to run, that he’s here.  I hear Voldemort telling Mum that he killed Dad.”  Remus groaned and Dumbledore looked pained.  “I hear her begging for my life, saying that she would die for me,” Harry said, tears rolling down his face.  “And then she does.”

“Powers above and below,” Dumbledore said sorrowfully.  “Harry, I’m so sorry.  That is something no child should ever know, much less remember.”

“I was only a baby, right?  How would I remember something like that?” Harry asked, scrubbing at his eyes.

“Magic is wonderful, and terrible,” Dumbledore said wearily.  “Much like people.  Magic is capable of incredible beauty and awful tragedy and this is of the latter.  My boy, I would remove that horror from you if I could.”

“It’s…I can hear them,” Harry whispered.  “I can hear what they sound like and I want to hear more but it’s during the worst part of their life.”  The last part of their lives.  “That’s…that’s sick, right?”

“No, it’s not,” Remus said, his own eyes wet and gleaming.  “You are someone that has endured something terrible in your short years, something no one should.  You simply want to experience what others have taken for granted.  I do not blame you in the slightest.”

“Nor do I,” Dumbledore said firmly.  “You are not sick, Harry.  You just want something you desperately crave, and no one can judge you for that.”

Harry released a shuddering breath.  “Thank you,” he said at last, feeling a tiny bit better at their words.

“I will teach you how to fight them,” Remus said.  “The same charm you saw us cast to drive them back.  It will be difficult, but I know you can do it.  And it should help you immeasurably.”

“Really?”

“Really.  Not many can cast it and normally you would be a lot older before attempting it, but we can try.  I have faith in you,” Remus said, patting Harry’s shoulder.

“That would be great,” Harry said, feeling even better.  “Thank you.”

“Let us begin your recovery,” Dumbledore said with a soft smile.  “Professor Flitwick will take you to the clubroom and you may spend some time there before heading back to the dormitory.  If you need to talk more in the future, you need only ask.”

“Thank you,” Harry said gratefully.  After a last check by Pomfrey, the boy left the Infirmary, waving at them.

“That poor boy,” Dumbledore murmured.  “No, that poor young man.  He has endured much.”

“What do we do?” Remus asked.

“Be there for him, as best as we can.  Teach him magic and other things.”  Dumbledore looked resolute.  “And try to be better, for ourselves and for him.”

“No complaints here,” Remus said, nodding.  “At least there’s one good thing from this, he’s opening up to us more.”

“Yes, and I am grateful.”  Dumbledore rose and clasped his hands behind him.  “Now to not lose that trust and to reward him for it.  We need to do the best we can.”

Remus looked at the closed doors to the Infirmary before looking out of the window and over the dark grounds.  “Do our best,” he repeated thoughtfully.

-0-

Flitwick led Harry to the clubroom and Harry was surprised to see the door cracked open slightly and the room full of light and sound.  Flitwick had given him a comforting pat and had left him there with a kind smile.  Harry opened the door some more and took a step in.

“Look, how precise do the measurements have to be?” Parvati asked.

“Now I understand why your Potions marks are low,” Padma sighed.

“Don’t give me that.  You know why I’m asking,” Parvati said crossly, pushing Padma.  “The aunties and Grandmum barely measure anything half the time.”

“Cooking isn’t the same as baking,” Padma returned, pushing Parvati back.  “Baking is like potion brewing, mess up the ratios and measurements and it won’t turn out quite right.”

“What did you mess up?” Lavender asked, glaring at her friend.

“I didn’t mess anything up!  I just might’ve added a bit more sugar than what the recipe said,” Parvati said.

“How much is a bit?”

“Looks like half-again,” Sue said, looking at the bag.  “This was a new bag, right?”

“The dough looks a bit…gritty,” Hermione said as she poked it with a spoon.

“You can add a bit more flour,” Harry said with a big smile.  “It won’t come out exactly right, but it’ll take some of the grittiness away.  Maybe a touch more fat too.”

“See?  Thanks Harry,” Parvati sniffed.  She did a double-take.  “Harry!”  The others exclaimed with delight at his presence and Lavender hugged him hard.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He nodded.  “I’m okay.  Weak, but otherwise I’m fine.”

“We thought you would be out a little longer so we came to make biscuits for you to bring to you,” Padma said.

“Really?”  Harry felt his face and chest warm.  “I can’t remember the last time someone made food for me, that wasn’t the Elves of course.”

“We thought you would like it,” Pansy said softly.  “We were worried.”

He saw the expression on her face and recognized it, a lingering wistfulness, as if she wanted something.

“Thank you,” he said and shyly, and awkwardly, opened his arms slightly to her.

Blushing furiously, after a moment’s hesitation, she hugged him, feeling better when he hugged her back.  Lavender bit her lip for a moment, feeling a flash of something that she could not quite identify before pushing it away.

“Really, thank you all,” Harry said once they parted.  “I really appreciate it.”

“You cook and bake for us all the time,” Sue said.  “We wanted to do it for you though,” she poked the dough, “might not be up to your usual standards.”

Harry smiled once more.  “No problem.  We can salvage it.”  He moved a little slower and still looked tired, but he also looked happy.

“Did you want to talk about it?” Hermione asked once the biscuits were in the oven.

Harry thought for a moment and shook his head.  “It’s…no, not right now.  If that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Millicent said.  “It’s private and we get it.  We’re here for you if you ever need us.”  They chatted easily as the biscuits baked and they took them out of the oven when finished.

“See?  They still look okay,” Parvati said.  She bit into one.  “Still tastes fine!”

“Tastes good to me,” Harry said with heart-felt conviction.  Just like at the end of last year, in the presence of smiling faces and warm conversation and food, he felt much better.  Cold air, grasping hands, and empty cowls that brought terrible screams felt far away at that moment.

And he relished it.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

34^th Course – Hunger and Thirst

“Albus!  Good to see you!”

Dumbledore smiled broadly and shook the man’s hand firmly.  “Drake, good to see you too!  How are you?”

Drake Tepes smiled and embraced Dumbledore after their handshake.  “Oh you know me, going where the wind blows and what interests me.”

“I do, and am always glad to see you blown to my doorstep.”  The pair left the Hogsmeade station and began walking to the castle.  “I know you are not terribly fond of Britain.”

“It is okay to visit here and there,” Drake sniffed delicately.  “The majority of people here leave something to be desired however.”  He noticed the patrolling Dementors and scowled.  When one approached, he glared at it, his warm brown eyes turning deep red.  The Dementor stopped and drifted the other way.  “Case in point,” he said dryly as his eyes shifted back to brown.

“Not to mention the dreary weather,” Dumbledore said lightly, as if nothing had happened.

“Actually, one of the few pleasant reasons to visit,” Drake chuckled.  He made a show of inspecting his alabaster skin.  “One must protect their complexion after all.”

“Still terribly vain,” Dumbledore snorted.

“And terrible otherwise,” Drake smiled brightly. 

“What brings you to visit?”

“Nicolas of course.  He mentioned you wished to speak to me?”

“Oh yes.  I did not think that was enough to interrupt your busy schedule, my apologies.”

Drake waved a hand.  “Nonsense.  I had just finished some work in the States and he got a hold of me.  I have nothing pressing for a while and it has been some time since you and I spent time together.  I will be going to France after this to visit him and Perenelle.  They have acquired a basilisk?  From here no less?”

“That’s right.”  Dumbledore gave Drake a summation of the events from last year as they entered the school grounds.  He finished by the time they reached his office and had ensconced themselves comfortably. 

“Quite the story,” Drake said, eyes glinting with amusement.  “Of course, letting Nicolas anywhere near a basilisk should be cause for worry.”

“Thankfully he has Perenelle with him,” Dumbledore chuckled.

“She’s worse than he is,” Drake snorted.  “She eggs him on at least a third of the time.”

“They get bored easily it seems,” Dumbledore laughed.  “Something you can relate with.”

“True enough,” Drake smiled.  “I have been terribly bored as of late.”  An expression of melancholy crossed his face briefly before he looked up.  “So, you wish to rejoin the world stage then?”

“Something like that,” Dumbledore said.

“And what of the opinions of your countrymen?”  Drake gestured out the window at the distant cloaked figures floating.  “As if they have any opinions of note that is.”

“Still rather isolationist and stubborn,” Dumbledore admitted.  “I am hoping to bring some things to light and to try and shift opinions a bit.”

“My friend, you have not been successful in many years,” Drake said sympathetically.  “What makes you think you can change things now?”

“Well, for one, the Tri-Wizard is happening next year, and we are hosting.”

“Oh?  Well, that’s interesting news.”  Drake looked thoughtful.  “Which means you will obviously have the other two schools here, so some foreign visitors.  Which means there will be more of a presence from the ICW.”

“Indeed.  And I am hoping to put a good foot forward with the Confederation visiting in force.  While the current Ministry might pretend to not care, they will.  And if we put a good showing there, that will create positive feelings for joining the International itself.”

Drake sat back and laced long fingers together.  “A fine thought and it would work.  I would be happy to lend aid there.”  He took a deep breath.  “That said, you have to know it will be an uphill fight.  Many look down on Wizarding Britain, for many reasons.”

“I know,” Dumbledore said sadly.  “But, I have some hopes for some of my students that might be able to prove their worth as well as represent a changing culture.”

Drake laughed.  “The last time the culture changed that abruptly was when a rather large shipment of tea was dumped in a harbor.”

“There have been others since,” Dumbledore laughed.

“I know, I am jesting.”  Drake smiled.  “My worries remain however.  Have the students here changed so much?”

“Not the older ones, but some of the younger ones have,” Dumbledore said confidently.  “I am hoping to influence them a bit with the Tournament, expose them to the world.  Make them see what is possible and different, then show the world that we too are capable of change, change for the better.”

He sat back.  “The war ruined our efforts before and I am hoping to fix that.”

“Hmm, wars do that,” Drake said quietly.  “And that was an unpleasant bit of business.”  He shrugged lightly.  “Like I said, I am happy to help you, but I have my reservations.”

“Perhaps I can put them to rest?  Give you a bit of insight?”

Drake gave Dumbledore a calculating look.  “You sound rather confident.  It has been a while since I have heard you so.”

The Headmaster smiled.  “Like I said, I have strong hopes and am confident in this one.”

Drake opened his arms.  “By all means, show me!  I will give you an honest assessment.”

Dumbledore turned to Fawkes who was sitting on his perch, dozing.  “Fawkes, fetch Harry if you would?  No need to bring him back the fast way, a walk will do.”

Fawked nodded eagerly and vanished in a flash of fire.

“Your fire pigeon looked rather eager,” Drake observed.

“Fawkes is fond of Harry.”  Dumbledore shook his head.  “And fire pigeon, really?”

“An apt description I would say,” Drake sniffed.

“Your jealousy is unbecoming.”

“I am not jealous,” Drake huffed.  “Beauty without effort is simply unfair is all.”  He grinned.  “You do surround yourself with vain things I have noticed.”

“Not the first time I was told that,” Dumbledore chuckled.

-0-

“Hey Harry,” Oliver said with a tired smile. 

“Hey Oliver, how’s it going?”  He looked at the people sprawled around in the corner of the common room.  “Everyone okay?”

“Yeah, just tired and a bit dispirited,” Oliver said pleasantly.  “The game, as you saw, was tough flying and for it to be ruled as a draw was a bit hard to swallow.”

“No rematch due to the weather?” Harry asked.

“Well, it was offered but Flint didn’t want it,” Angelina sighed.  “Knows we’d whip them normally.”

“I don’t know about that,” Alicia said scathingly.  “McClaggen is a terrible Seeker.”

“He plays Keeper more,” Oliver said diplomatically.  “But he wanted to give Seeker a try and well, he plowed himself into the ground early on and their Seeker, Malfoy, couldn’t catch it before the game was called due to the Dementors.  We were tied on goals so it was ruled as such.  Rare, but it happens.”

He colored a little.  “Oh, sorry, Harry.  How are you doing by the way?  I heard you had to go to the Infirmary?”

“Oh no, why?” Katie asked, looking up.

Harry looked sheepish.  “I have bad reactions to Dementors, like really bad.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Fred said, “they suck.”

George shuddered.  “Literally, if you’re super unlucky.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asked.

“Our dad told us,” George explained.  “If they get too close and are too hungry, they suck your soul out.”  He made a very loud sucking sound before Angelina hit him in the face with a pillow.

“Leaves you a husk,” Fred continued.  “It’s super messed up.”

“Another reason not to get too close to them,” Harry shuddered.  “Well, I made these for you,” he said, handing Oliver a box.

“Oh, more biscuits?” Alicia asked, brightening.

“Muffins this time.  Thought you all would like some after your game.  I couldn’t imagine playing in it when I was watching, with the storm going on,” Harry said.

“Aww, thanks!” Katie gushed.  She picked one up.  “Ooh, still warm!”

“Warming Charm that Professor Flitwick taught us,” Harry smiled.

“Oh my goodness, this is delicious,” Angelina said, mouth full.  “I love blueberry muffins!”

“Thanks, Harry!” the twins said together.  “We appreciate it.”

 “Really nice of you,” Oliver smiled. 

“Does this mean we can expect more treats if we lose?” Alicia asked.

“Wait, hold on,” Oliver said, looking alarmed.

“Pretty decent consolation prize,” Angelina mused.

“I don’t like where this is going!” Oliver cried, making the others and Harry laugh.

“Calm down Oliver,” Katie giggled.  “We’ll just ask for something for when we win too.  And pay you of course, I still remember mentioning that from last time.  We don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Harry smiled back.  “I’ll work something out.”  He blinked when he noticed Fawkes standing on the window sill, looking up at him.  The phoenix appeared outside with his normal bit of fire, then pushed his way through a window and sat there comfortably, looking up at Harry.  “Oh hi Fawkes, are you looking for me?”

Fawkes nodded and looked at one of the muffins covetously, licking his beak.

“For a snack or does the Headmaster want me?”  Harry smiled when Fawkes chirped twice.  “I still have some muffins I can bring.  Guess I should go then.”

Alicia whistled.  “Sent for by a phoenix?  Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Harry waited for Fawkes to settle on his shoulder comfortably before he started walking.  “I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s bad.  See you guys later.”

“Thanks again!” the team chorused.

-0-

“Come in.”  Dumbledore smiled as Harry walked into his office with Fawkes noisily enjoying a muffin while sitting on his shoulder.  “Ah Harry, thank you for coming.  Allow me to introduce you to a good friend of mine.  Drake, this is Harry Potter.  Harry, this is Drake Tepes.”

Drake smiled and extended his hand.  “A pleasure to meet you.”  His skin was cold to the touch and he shook Harry’s hand firmly. 

“Likewise,” Harry said.  “I brought some blueberry muffins.  Fawkes is eating one already as you can see.”

“And hear,” Dumbledore said.  He happily accepted a muffin and bit into it eagerly.  “Mmm, delicious as usual.”

Drake tore a piece off the top and delicately sniffed the air.  “Hmmm, delightful aroma.”  He popped the piece into his mouth.  “I agree, quite delicious!  Soft but not overly, fresh blueberry, nice and sweet.”  He stopped and looked horrified.  “Wait.  Is that…garlic I smell?”

Harry blinked.  “I was chopping some before the muffins were finished but they aren’t in the muffins.”

“Oh no, if I can smell it, it is too late!”  Drake gasped and clutched his throat before slumping over.  His chest stopped moving and he looked blankly into space, going terribly still.

Dumbledore sighed and bit into the muffin again.  “Do not be alarmed,” he said to a very alarmed Harry.  “He is being dramatic.”

Drake groaned and looked at Dumbledore with irritation.  “Dramatic?  Someone dying is ‘being dramatic’?”

“For you?  Yes,” Dumbledore said.  He rolled his eyes and gave Harry an apologetic smile who was just starting to relax.  “Drake is a vampire, hence his little joke about garlic.”

“People usually find it funny,” Drake complained.  “Ow!  Hey!  Stop that!  Albus, control your pigeon!”  He tried to fend off Fawkes’ pecking.

“He does not appreciate you insulting Harry’s cooking,” Dumbledore said mildly.  “He just might steal the rest of your muffin.”

“You try and I will kill you for good!  I can do it!” Drake said crossly and Fawkes looked unimpressed.  Fawkes snatched a chunk of the muffin from under Drake’s hand and flew to his roost, glowering.  “Your bird is a pest,” Drake grumbled.

“So you’re not…allergic to garlic?  Is that an allergy?” Harry asked with interest.

“I personally am not.  There are different kinds of vampires in the world and some are sensitive to it and some are not.”  Drake tapped his nose.  “I have a very sensitive sense of smell to some things, hence me smelling the garlic.”  He sniffed the air.  “You must be a cook of some note.  I can smell a variety of spices and ingredients when you entered.”

“I like to cook,” Harry said.  “Gosh, must be handy to be able to smell things like that.”

“Like most things, there are positives and negatives.”  Drake ate the remains of his muffin with gusto.  “Very delicious by the way, I was not jesting on that.”

“Thank you.”  Harry looked at him.  “Uhm, if you don’t mind me asking, but vampires eat regular food too?”

Drake smiled broadly, revealing gleaming fangs.  “Again, it depends on the type of vampire.  For all vampires, it is about imbibing essence, something essential for survival.  Where people and animals consume food for the nutrients they require, the needs of vampires are distilled into more specific needs.  Most need blood to survive.  Others feed off emotion.  Some crave pure magic.”

He pulled back shoulder length black hair behind his ears.  “I thirst for blood but it can be any blood really.  I have my favorites like any picky eater, but I can survive comfortably on food like others can as long as I get to have blood here and there.”

“Wow, that’s really cool,” Harry said with bright eyes.  “Thank you for explaining that.”

Drake blinked a few times.  “You are quite welcome.”

“Would you like to cook something for Drake while he is here?” Dumbledore asked.  “He will be visiting for a few days and we could come visit for a Club night.  I am sure Drake has some spells he has learned that are useful for Household Charms.”

“Oh plenty,” Drake said, “some useful and some not.” 

“Sure, I would like that,” Harry said.  “Is there something you really like, Sir?  I don’t know many different cuisines yet but would love to try if you have something specific in mind.”

“Do not worry about that,” Drake said kindly.  “I have traveled all about Europe and the States mostly, as well as South America and enjoy a variety of things.  I would be fine with whatever you make.  To be honest, I have not had any sort of hunger for anything in some time.”

“I’ll try and think of something.”  Harry said thoughtfully.  He left, still lost in thought.

“He is quite kind.  Most do not react so well to meeting a vampire,” Drake said after Harry left.

“He is an excellent young man of good character,” Dumbledore said proudly.

-0-

“No, there can’t be more homework we haven’t done!” Parvati wailed.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, looking up. 

“You’re reading more!”

Harry snorted.  “I’m reading for fun and something else.”

“No one does that!”

“Yes people do!” Hermione said indignantly.  “And I’ve seen you read your astrology book.”

“Astronomy and astrology,” Parvati corrected. 

“Adding astronomy to astrology does not make it any more legitimate,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

“First of all, how dare you,” Parvati said severely, making Lavender and Harry giggle and laugh.  “Second of all, how dare you.”

“You said that already,” Hermione smiled.

“That’s the depth of me being surprised at how you dare.  Third of all, astrology does have some basis in magic and you need it for certain rituals as well as divination.”

“You need astronomy more,” Hermione said.

“Which are somewhat related.  Besides, like most things, there is a basis of fact.  When is your birthday again?  September 19th?  Oh, you’re a Virgo, no question.”

“And what does that mean?!” Hermione asked, sounding scandalized.

“You’re a perfectionist, works hard, pay a lot of attention to detail.”  Parvati smiled when Hermione relaxed a little.  “Not to mention judgmental and overly critical!  And you think too much!”

“First of all, judgmental and overly critical are basically the same thing,” Hermione said, blushing at Parvati’s look of vindication and Harry and Lavender snorting, trying to stifle smiles.  “Second of all, there’s nothing wrong with thinking!  And third of all…how dare you!”

“Hey that’s my thing!” Parvati gasped.

“You don’t own it!  What are you then?”

“I’m not telling!”

“Her birthday is February fifth,” Harry smiled.

“That means she’s an Aquarius,” Lavender added.

“And what are your traits then?” Hermione asked sharply.

“For me to know and you to never find out since you don’t believe in it anyways,” Parvati said, hugging her book to her chest.

“Fine.  I’m going to the library then!”  Hermione got up and ran out of the common room.

“Hey!  Stop that!” Parvati shouted after and chased her out. 

“You can follow after them,” Harry smiled at Lavender.  “Tell me how it goes later.”

“Thanks!”  Lavender ran after them, smiling from ear to ear.  She nearly ran into Neville coming in, shouting a hasty apology to him as she ran past.

“What’s all that about?” Neville asked, looking vaguely windswept. 

“Star signs apparently,” Harry smiled.

“Ah, say no more.”  Neville sat beside Harry.  “What are you working on?”

“Just looking for a cooking idea.  There’s going to be a guest at our next club night and I want to make something nice for them.  They said they haven’t had anything they’ve really wanted in a while and I want them to enjoy it.”  Harry held up the book he got from Sue last Christmas.  “So just seeing what I could try.”

“I thought you didn’t cook much Asian things,” Neville said.

“I haven’t.  But you know, you learn more by doing, sometimes,” Harry said.

“That’s true.  I’ve had plants I wasn’t able to cultivate well at home without some trial and error,” Neville said.  “What does the guest like?”

“Uhm, somewhat different,” Harry said after some thought.  “Candy?”  He held out his drawstring bag.

“Thanks!”  Neville reached in and pulled something out.  “You still have the bloody sucker?” he laughed.

“I don’t want to throw it away but I also don’t want to eat it,” Harry laughed.  His laughter faded and he turned thoughtful, paging through the book.  “Huh, that’s so weird…then again…”

Neville munched on a piece of chocolate.  “Got an idea?”

“I do and I don’t know if it’ll work, but might as well try.  And it gave me an idea for a back-up.”  Harry got up.  “I’ll have to see if I can get the ingredients.”

-0-

Roosty blinked her large eyes at Harry.  “Roosty sorry, but Harry wants what?”

Harry flushed a little.  “I know it’s a bit strange-“

“More than a bit,” Roost said.

“Okay, more than a bit.  But it’s for a dish.”  He showed her a page in the cookbook.

“Oh!  That…that sounds interesting actually,” Roosty said as she read it.  “Roosty can get it.  But we should ask professor first.  In case.”  She walked off and Harry rushed to follow her.  When she arrived at the destination, she knocked on the door a few times. 

“Come in!”  Flitwick smiled seeing Roosty and Harry walk in.  “Ah hello!  How can I help you?”

“Harry would like something from the farms,” Roosty explained.

“I thought that was under your purview, why come to me?” Flitwick asked, confused.  He looked at the ingredient that Roosty and Harry pointed out.  “Ahhh, I see now.  I am somewhat familiar with that being cooked but I’m surprised you are Harry.  Why are you making this?”

“For a guest of Professor Dumbledore’s,” Harry said.

Flitwick thought for a moment then smiled.  “Oh I see!  How thoughtful of you.  I see no problem with it.  Do you, Roosty?”

“Is no problem.  But House Elves must check with faculty before certain things,” Roosty said apologetically.

“I understand,” Harry said.  “And like I said, bit strange.”

“More than a bit,” Roosty giggled.  “Roosty go get.  Can Roosty have some please when you finish?”

“I’m actually going to make a trial dish of it tonight if I can use the room,” Harry said.  “Would you like to watch and have it then?”

“Yes please!”

“I’ll tag along too,” Flitwick said enthusiastically.  “Like I said, I’m somewhat familiar with it with my own culture.”

“French?” Harry asked with a smile.

Flitwick laughed boisterously.  “Actually, there is a bit of French in my history so that’s not completely off.  I am part Goblin, on my father’s side.”

“Oh?  That’s really neat,” Harry said.  “They cook like that too, something similar to this dish?”

“Oh certainly, and many more besides.”

“I’d love to learn more,” Harry said eagerly.

Flitwick turned thoughtful before smiling once more.  “I think I might just be able to make that happen.”

“Really?!”

“I do!  Give me some time, but we will see.”

-0-

“Wait, we’re about to meet a vampire?” Millicent asked.

Household Charms club were meeting together and Flitwick had told them of the special guest.  Harry had been there before them, having cooked something first, and it was slowly simmering on the stovetop.  The air smelled savory with a slight hint of vinegar but before anyone could ask what it was, Flitwick had informed them of the incoming guest.

“Indeed.  He is an old friend of the Headmaster and a frequent visitor to the school,” Flitwick said.

“Wow, guess you picked a good time to come for your first meeting,” Sue said to the newcomers.

“Auntie’s worked with vampires before,” Susan Bones said.  “I haven’t met any myself yet but I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

Ron and Ginny looked at each other.  “I don’t have a problem,” Ginny said, something Ron echoed.

As they were leaving for the club, Ron and Ginny had approached Lavender, Parvati, Hermione, and Neville and asked if they could come with them.  After a brief look they had agreed, mildly surprised to be joined by the Weasleys.  The surprise had increased when the others had seen them and there was a moment of tension between the Weasley siblings and Pansy and Millicent before they let it go.  Susan coming with Padma, Sue, and Luna had been another surprise.

Susan had been with Sue and they had front-row seats to the row that Parvati and Hermione had when the latter looked up some star signs in a book in the library.  The incident had deeply amused them and Sue invited her fellow Sue-sounding friend to the club and Susan had agreed readily.

“There’s another bloke now,” Neville had smiled. 

“Smith wanted to tag along but I warned him we actually did stuff here,” Sue frowned.  “He’s allergic to work and decided not to come.”

“Why would he want to come?  He’s one of the Society too with House Elves that do everything,” Millicent said.

“Probably wanted to bother Lavender,” Susan said, giving Lavender an apologetic look.  “He and the other boys in Hufflepuff say some stuff.

“Like what?” Harry asked, frowning mightily.

Susan blinked at the expression.  “Nothing polite really.”

“I can handle Smith,” Lavender sniffed.  “Don’t worry,” she said, patting Harry on the arm.

Before anyone could say anything else, the door opened with a loud slow creak and Drake strode in.  His cloak billowed behind him dramatically.  His face was carved in patrician lines and he looked about coolly, his eyes a mix of brown and red.  The students gaped at his appearance, eyes widening. 

“So,” he said, his voice silky and echoing slightly, “you are the ones that request my presence?  You dare demand an interview with a vampire?”  A sudden flash of fire and light made everyone cry out and Drake threw his hands up, beating at his smoldering cloak.  “Curse you!  You damn flying fire rat!”  His voice lost the echoing quality, sounding positively irate.

Dumbledore sighed as he followed Drake in and closed the door behind him.  “Drake, mind your language.”

“Bugger your language and your bird!” Drake replied, chasing after a snickering Fawkes.  The phoenix flew ahead of the irate vampire, musical giggling filling the room as Drake trailed smoke behind him as the top of his cloak smoldered.  The scene was so ludicrous, the students were laughing, the moment changed irrevocably.

“Everyone, meet Drake,” Dumbledore smiled to the deeply amused students.  “As you may surmise now, his previous mystique is an air that he likes to affect for dramatic purposes.”

“Let me have my fun,” Drake sighed.  He visibly relaxed, his eyes warm and his demeanor no longer haughty.  “But yes, I am Drake and I am a vampire.  And we can get some questions out of the way.  Allow me to answer the most asked.  Do not worry, I will not suck your blood, as long as I am satisfied another way which I believe your compatriot will be attempting to do so.”  He nodded genially at a suddenly nervous Harry.  “I am sure I will however, if his muffins were any mark of his ability.”

“Do you like Anne Rice?” Hermione asked.

“I do not know, have I met her?”

“Oh well you said interview with a vampire, so I thought you did,” Hermione said.

“Drat.  Muggleborn are you?”  Drake shook his head when she nodded.  “I thought I was being clever with that.  Yes, I do enjoy her writing though her takes on vampires are somewhat generous.”

“Does garlic hurt you?  If so, don’t go over to that side,” Parvati said, pointing at the kitchen side.

“Not all vampires are sensitive to garlic,” Luna said. 

“That is correct,” Drake said, looking faintly impressed.  “Did Harry tell you that I already assuaged that fear?”

“No, my daddy and I have met vampires before.  One of his friends smells a lot like you.”  Luna looked at Padma who had gently elbowed her.  “Not in a bad way, but in an identifiable way.”

Drake blinked at that while the others snickered.  “I…uh…well I suppose I need to pay attention to how I and others smell.  Even with my keen senses, I never truly noticed.”

“You smell very nice,” Luna said dreamily.  “Like night air and clean soil.  Oh and sandalwood.”

“That is very kind of you to say,” Drake replied, slightly confused yet oddly touched. 

“So does getting stabbed through the heart with a wooden stake kill you?” Ron asked.

“Yes but I imagine that would kill just about anything really, that has a heart,” Drake quipped, making them laugh.  He pointed a finger at a preening Fawkes.  “Do not think I cannot do it to you.”

“How did you make your cloak do that when you entered?” Lavender asked.

Drake smiled broadly.  “One of my very favorite charms!  I am a master at glamours and aesthetic charms and as someone here so likes to characterize me, I have a flair for the dramatic.  Allow me to show you!”  He taught them a bevy of charms that included your cloak billowing out behind you as you walked, your hair moving in the breeze even if there was not a breeze, skin protecting spells, and helped them learn a different kind of warming charm.

“Will you be teaching us aesthetic charms?” Parvati asked Flitwick eagerly.

“I suppose I can adjust my curriculum,” Flitwick smiled.  “I never had any real desire for those kinds of charms, but if the want is there, I suppose I could work it in.”

“Not everyone shares your sense of style,” Drake said.  “Besides, that overly dour fellow you have here, he uses the cloak billowing charm.”

“Professor Snape denies that, adamantly,” Dumbledore smiled, making the students look at each other with delighted expressions.

“I doubt that entirely!  If anything, he does it better than me and that is saying something!”  Drake opened his mouth to say more but at that moment, Harry went to check on the simmering pot and his head whipped around when Harry took the lid off.  His eyes flickered and he drifted towards the kitchen, following his nose.  “What is that?” he asked, licking his lips slightly.

Dumbledore and Flitwick had noticed Drake’s sudden change in demeanor and they surreptitiously went over to that side of the room as well with the others watching on.  Harry, focused on the bubbling pot, had not quite noticed.  “What I’m hoping you like.  It’s called dinuguan, if I’m pronouncing it right.”  He tasted the thick chocolate-brown sauce that clung to the pork.  “Mmm, I think it’s pretty good.”  He ladled out a portion onto some white rice and put it before Drake who had sat at the table beside the stove, looking on with undisguised interest.  “I hope you like it, this is the second time I’ve made it.  Tested it for the first time the other night.”

Drake took up a spoon and filled it with rice and meat and gravy.  He breathed deep, his eyes turning deeper red.  He tasted it delicately, chewing slightly before he gobbled the rest of the spoonful.  “This is exquisite,” he breathed.  “It’s so rich and hearty and luxurious!  With a hint of vinegar and spice!  It’s incredible!”

Sue sniffed the air and she looked down at the pot with a thoughtful look.  “Wait, I’ve seen this before.  It smells really familiar.”

“It smells nice,” Padma said.  “Can we have some too?”

“Only once you know what it is,” Harry said.  He looked nervous once more.  “It’s a bit different than what we’re used to.  Well wait, not terribly so to one thing.  Do you like black pudding?”

“What does black pudding have to do with this?” Neville asked.

“Oh!  I know what it is now, that’s chocolate pork,” Sue exclaimed.

“You cook chocolate with pork?” Ron asked, making a face.

“Not with chocolate,” Sue said.  “It’s called that because the sauce looks like that.  It’s actually blood.”

“What?!” a few of the others exclaimed, looking various degrees of shocked and revolted.

“It’s pork blood,” Harry said, flushing when everyone looked at him with expressions ranging from shocked to horror.  “It’s a traditional Filipino dish.  Blood is an ingredient in a lot of Asian cooking apparently.”

“Oh yeah, there’s some Chinese dishes,” Sue said.

“Some Indian ones too.”  Parvati looked a little squeamish.  “Never really appealed to me though.”

“Me neither,” Padma said. 

“There’s blood in black pudding?!” Ron asked.

“That’s what makes it go black,” Harry nodded. 

“I did not know that,” Neville gasped.  “That’s really interesting and kinda gross.”  He looked panicked.  “I mean, I didn’t mean to sound dismissive or anything-“

“It’s a bit strange,” Sue said soothingly.

“More than a bit,” Flitwick and Harry said together.  They smiled at one another, making the others look at them strangely.

“I also made shepherd’s pie for the people that don’t want to eat any dinuguan.”  He opened the oven door and removed a large pan with golden-brown potato topping and bubbling gravy. 

“I think I will stick with that,” Millicent said.  “I’m sure the dinuwhatsit is good but…it’s just…”

“I don’t mind, really,” Harry smiled.  “That’s why I made a pie too.”

Besides Drake, Dumbledore, Flitwick, and Fawkes ate the stewed meat readily, enjoying the flavor.  Sue had some as well and her enthusiasm prompted Susan to try a bit and Luna ate a plate of it herself, also enjoying it.  Most of the others passed, enjoying the shepherd’s pie, but Lavender tried a little and after much hesitation, so did Pansy.

“It doesn’t taste weird actually,” Lavender said with wonder.  “It’s like rich stewed meat.”  She smiled sheepishly at Harry.  “I don’t think I can have more though.  I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’m really happy and honored you tried it at all,” Harry said, genuinely happy.  “You too Pansy.”

“The taste is not unpleasant,” Pansy said.  “But I agree with Lavender, kind of hard to think about.”

“This is better than some I’ve had,” Sue said. 

“I like it,” Luna smiled, “tastes good to me.”

Drake finished a third helping and delicately wiped his lips on a napkin.  “Now that was a fine meal.  You have my thanks, Harry.”  He paused and looked at Harry directly.  “You have never made this before save for the test?”  He looked astonished at Harry’s nod.  “Why attempt it now?”

“You said that you can survive on regular food but eating to survive is a bit…sad to me,” Harry said slowly.  “So I wanted to challenge myself and try to make something you would enjoy eating.  As well as having something there that you like and want in it.”

“And you went through all that effort for me?”  Drake asked, incredibly surprised.  “Why?”

“You said you haven’t had any sort of hunger for a while.  Thought you might like to try something new,” Harry said softly.  “Not to be presumptuous, but well, I thought it might be nice.  You also said you traveled about Europe and the Americas but not Asia.  I’m lucky to have the cookbook to try Asian foods now so, thought you might like to try some.”

Drake looked at him for a long time, his eyes piercing.  “Harry…”

“Potter,” Dumbledore provided.

“Harry Potter,” Drake said slowly.  “You have made a friend today.  You have done a kindness for me and I will not forget it.  This meal was delicious and I suppose I need to go explore Asia more now.”  He smiled and though his fangs were on full display, the expression was kind and warm.  “I have been on this earth for many years, and it appears there is still plenty for me to see, and more importantly, to taste.”

He looked at Dumbledore.  “I have reservations no longer.  I will do my best to assist you.”  He looked at the students in the room.  “I believe you are quite right.”

“Excellent,” Dumbledore beamed.

Drake extended his hand and shook Harry’s and the cold flesh did not feel so cold anymore.  “If you need anything, you need only ask.  I, Vladius Draconis Tepes, will do what I can.  On my honor, so I swear.”

A clattering of a dropped fork drew their attention and Hermione was staring at Drake with huge eyes.  “T-T-Tepes?” she repeated.

“Yes?” Drake said, looking confused.  “Oh!  Have you heard of me?” he asked with a large smile.

“You’re Vlad Tepes?  Count Dracula?!  Son of the Dragon?!”  Hermione’s voice rose in pitch.  “As in Vlad the Impaler?!”  The others looked between a slightly horrified Hermione and a more than slightly embarrassed Drake.

“Oh!  No no no,” Drake said hurriedly.  “That was my uncle!  I was adopted by him as a distant nephew relation sort of thing and that whole thing with the Ottomans, I was not involved in.  Hence why I go by Drake to try and avoid unpleasant misunderstandings.  As far as I know, I have never impaled anyone on anything!”

“As far as you know,” Flitwick repeated dryly.

“I have been, well not alive but you know the equivalent of being alive, for hundreds of years,” Drake retorted.  “Do you remember everything you have ever done?  Same with Nicolas and Perenelle.  They certainly do not, unless it is something petty and worth bearing a grudge over then they remember everything in horrific detail.”

“Oh, you know Nicky and Penny too?” Harry asked, delighted.

“Nicky and Penny?”  Drake shook his head.  “Okay, now I especially do not want to be on your wrong side.  If you can call them that, then any slight against you will be seen very poorly by those two.”  He looked at Flitwick.  “And I know for a fact that Nicolas has impaled-“

Dumbledore cleared his throat, glaring at Drake.  “Another time with that story I think.”

“Oh right.”  Drake saw the youngsters and flushed slightly.  “Any last questions for me?” he asked with assumed dignity.

“Oh, I do,” Harry said.  He smiled at Parvati.  “What do you think of the bloody suckers?”

“Those dreadful blood-flavored lollipops?”  Drake laughed exuberantly, the sound so happy and infectious, it prompted the others to laugh too.  “They do not have any blood in them at all and while they taste similarly to blood, they do not taste like blood.  Not properly anyways.”

“Finally, now we know,” Parvati smiled.

-0-

Later that night, Dumbledore and Drake sat in his office for a nightcap.  Drake slowly rolled the goblet in his hand, watching the firewhiskey swirl within.  “I am actively trying to remember the last time I was so…pleasantly surprised.”

He looked at Dumbledore directly.  “Has he met a vampire before?”

“Not to my knowledge, or his I imagine.”

“He was kind at the start.  Actively looked for something that would suit my palate in more ways than one.  And was brave to attempt it.”  He smacked his lips.  “And it tasted good.  You can taste something more to his cooking.  Something…something that others lack.”

“Perenelle said she can taste his sincerity,” Dumbledore said softly.

“Exactly.”  Drake nodded.  “His sincerity.  His effort.  His attention to detail and his care.”  He sipped the potent spirit.  “I believe you, when you feel something about him.”

“Now that is a smile, one of the widest I have ever seen on you,” Dumbledore observed.

“Albus, I have roamed this earth for ages.  I have seen moments of great import, seen attempts fail to rise, seen stars burn out and seen stars burn forever.  Each time, there is a certain feeling about it, no matter how great or small the…sincere change that comes about.”  Drake sipped his goblet.

“And do you feel it now?” Dumbledore asked, interested.  “That feeling?”

“Oh yes,” Drake said, voice low and rich.  “I do.  And I am so terribly excited to see what is to come of it.” 

“You and I both,” Dumbledore smiled.

Drake refilled their goblets.  “To the future and seeing what comes,” Drake toasted.

“To interesting times,” Dumbledore toasted.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

35^th Course – Interesting Times

“I just realized something,” Lavender said. 

“What’s that?” Harry asked.

“Animals seem to love you,” Lavender smiled.

Harry looked down at Crookshanks sprawled over his lap.  As per usual, Harry got to the common room before most after years of waking up early.  Crookshanks, Hermione’s new orange cat, had claimed Harry’s lap after discovering that fact and more often than not, the others would see Harry sitting there reading or doing something quietly with Crookshanks snoozing on his lap or demanding some form of attention.

“Yeah I guess so,” he said, petting the purring cat.  “Most animals I’ve met seem to like me, thank goodness.”

“Sunny and Crookshanks certainly do.”  Parvati sat down beside him.  “Fang likes you too.  He’s always beside you during class if he isn’t sleeping or helping Hagrid.  Hedwig loves you obviously.”

“Blinky likes me,” Harry smiled.

“Who’s that?” Lavender asked.

“The basilisk.”

“The basilisk’s name is Blinky?” Parvati asked, looking incredulous.

“Penny named her that and she likes it,” Harry laughed.  “Oh wait, I can think of an animal that doesn’t like me.  Scabbers, Ron’s rat.”

“Really?  Rats are kinda icky to begin with so no loss there,” Parvati said, making a face.

“I don’t mind them but yeah, Scabbers doesn’t like me.  I mean, Ron and I weren’t friends obviously for a while, but I’ve tried to offer something for him to eat and he surprisingly doesn’t go for it.  One time I found him running around and tried to catch him for Ron but he ran away really fast.”  Harry shrugged.  “I met a stray over the summer, a stray dog, and it was nice too.”

“Well that’s only one animal out of what, five or six counting the stray?”  Lavender grinned.  “And let’s not forget the snakes in the greenhouses.”

“Professor Sprout is so happy they’re there.  She says the pests have been kept down and she feels better communicating through me.”

“Oh how does Mrs. Norris treat you?” Parvati asked.

“Fine I suppose.  I don’t think she likes a lot of kids though to begin with.”

“Well with Mr. Filch as her owner, that was bound to happen,” Lavender snorted.  “Or what if she’s the one influencing him?!”

“Oooh, that’s a fun theory,” Parvati said.  “Magical animals having influence over their owners.”

“Not sure if it works for me.  I love bacon but Hedwig is obsessed with it,” Harry laughed.

“Sunny likes messing with Pansy, that’s a Millie thing,” Parvati mused.

“Do you like to read?” Lavender asked Crookshanks.  He gave her a look and curled up into a ball and fell asleep. 

Hermione came down and looked at the laughing trio with bemusement.  “What’s so funny?”

“We had a theory on if magical animals have an influence on their owners,” Harry said, wiping tears of merriment from his eyes.  “Crookshanks doesn’t like to read apparently.”

“He’s a very lazy kitty,” Hermione smiled.  “Which I don’t mind terrible, he’s a wonderful lap cat.  Even if he seems to abandon me for you more often than not.  He’s very clever though.  I think he might be part kneazle too.  That’s what the woman at the Menagerie said.”

Her expression changed when Ron, Dean, and Seamus walked by.  She and Ron exchanged cool looks while she completely ignored Seamus. 

“What’s that about?” Parvati asked after the three boys left.

“Ron was accusing me of letting Crookshanks bother his rat.  Said he found my cat chasing his rat around down here one day.”  Hermione shrugged.  “I’d feel terrible if something did happen, but it’s not like I actively set Crookshanks on Scabbers.  I try to keep him in our room during the day but all pets wander about.  Especially if Scabbers was down here.”

“Cats and kneazles do chase rats, but that would be bad,” Lavender agreed.

“Don’t chase Scabbers,” Harry said to Crookshanks.  “I’ll make you something tastier to eat.  Scabbers is all thin and gristle, probably bad for you.”

“Harry!” Hermione scolded while laughing.

Crookshanks had looked up at Harry with interest and tilted his head.  After a moment he nodded and stuck out his paw.  Grinning, Harry shook it and Crookshanks got up and stretched before leaping off daintily, curling around the legs of the girls before mincing off.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding about him being clever,” Harry said admiringly.

“Come on, we better go.  Padma gets fussy about being punctual.  Plus I’m so excited to visit Hogsmeade,” Parvati said and she eagerly pushed the others out of the common room.  The quartet made their way to the foyer of the castle and waved at Padma and Sue who were waiting for them.

“Pansy and Millicent are coming back,” Sue said.  “Millicent forgot some pocket money.”

“Is Susan joining us later?” Hermione asked.

“No, she’s going with Hannah and some others this time,” Sue said.  She and Padma looked at each other and started giggling.

“What’s so funny?” Parvati asked, eyes bright and eager.  “I know that giggling.  That’s ‘I know something really funny and it shouldn’t be but it is and I’m enjoying it’.”

“That’s accurate,” Padma smiled.  “It really shouldn’t be funny but it kinda is.  And, it has to do with Harry.”

“What did I do?” Harry asked, eyes wide.

“Susan is spending more time with Hannah to make her feel better,” Sue grinned.  “Because Hannah has decided Harry’s her nemesis.”

“What?!  Why?!” the Gryffindor girls and boy exclaimed.

“I’ve barely talked to her at all!” Harry added.

“Well, apparently, she learned those biscuits we’ve been eating as snacks and after meals from the school is your recipe, same with the muffins and hot chocolate,” Padma laughed.  “Oh and the butter chicken.”

“Hey, that’s your family recipe,” Harry argued.

“Which you made here and that’s how the kitchen House elves got it,” Padma continued.  “Anyways, she loves baking too and when Susan and others said how much they like it, she got jealous.  Baking is her hobby at home.”

“So now you’re her rival and nemesis,” Sue said and the girls all erupted into laughter once more.

“That’s…but…I mean…that’s not fair,” Harry protested weakly.

“As far as nemesises, nemesi, both of those sound weird, as far as having a nemesis go,” Hermione said through her laughter, “at least it’s not a terrible reason!”

“Is she any good?  I want to try it and see how it measures,” Parvati said.

“Apparently that’s another thing that Hannah’s none too happy about, as in lack of opportunity,” Sue snorted.

“She can join Household Charms then and have the same opportunity,” Lavender snorted back.

“Well that’s part of the reason Susan joined, to feel it out and Hannah’s miffed that Susan enjoyed herself.  Something about joining the ‘enemy’,” Sue said, causing even more laughter.

“Wait, who’s the enemy?”  Millicent and Pansy had arrived as the girls were laughing again and Harry looking miffed too, his arms crossed.  “We have enemies?” Millicent asked.  “I mean I know we do,” she pointed at Pansy and herself, “but you lot do too?”

“Hannah considers Harry her nemesis apparently,” Parvati snickered.

“What? Why?!” Pansy asked, eyes narrowed.

“What did you do to Abbott?” Millicent asked Harry.

“Nothing!”

“He cooks and bakes and she takes it personally,” Sue smiled. 

“I don’t see her providing anything,” Pansy said frostily.  “How ridiculous.”  She gave Harry a serious look.  “Call her out and crush her publicly, make her recant.”

“Whoa, that’s extreme,” Padma gasped.

Pansy rolled her eyes at their looks of shock.  “I meant in the same realm.  She claims her cooking is better?  Prove her wrong.  Make her regret her words.”

“Is that a Slytherin thing?” Hermione asked.

Millicent nodded.  “And a Society thing.  Honor duels and the like.”

“’Leaving an enemy unchallenged courts disaster.  Crush them utterly and remind them of their place’,” Pansy said.  “What, it’s a Parkinson family saying and it’s just good logic.”

“I’m coming to you when I need help with enemies,” Parvati said admiringly.

“Let’s just go to Hogsmeade and forget about all of this,” Harry said, face red. 

The group of friends left the castle together, joining the queue to be let through the gates.  Deciding against the carriages to enjoy the cool autumn weather, they made their way to Hogsmeade.  Pansy and Millicent were the only ones who have visited before, when they were younger and have not started Hogwarts yet, and were happy to tell the others about some of the shops and places to see.

Harry loved the feeling of the village.  It felt cozy and picturesque, with the clean buildings and fresh air.  Coming from the school led them directly to Hogsmeade’s Main Street, where the majority of the stores where located.  Brightly colored signs dangled and danced in the breeze, the air lively with chatter from residents and visiting students.  The residential homes and gardens were on the other side of the streets for the business, showing lovely lawns and beautiful gardens.  The middle of Hogsmeade was a large square.  A tall boulder sat in the middle and people sat around it, eating and visiting.  Tables and benches dotted the area too and the village was busy with people and sound.

“We should go to Honeydukes first,” Pansy said, pointing at the sweets shop.  “They almost always stay busy and sometimes things run out as the day goes on.”

As she said, the store was crowded with students buying large amounts of candy to last them until the next Hogsmeade visit day.  Harry looked around happily, enjoying the scents wafting through the air and seeing the brightly colored packaging and descriptions.  “Oh wow, what are those?”

“Pepper imps,” Millicent said.  “They make you smoke at the ears and you can breathe sparks if you get some super spicy ones.  One time Pansy and I ate one during a dessert and we were saying the ice cream was too hot!”

“You will like these,” Pansy said, pointing at a display.  “Honeyed Fruit Combs.  There are types of bees that put pieces of fruit into their honeycombs.  The honey crystalizes the fruit and they taste wonderful.”

“Not getting anything?” Lavender asked.

Hermione looked wistful.  “My parents are dentists and always limited sugar and sweets.  Not sure if they approve.”

“What are dentists?” Millicent asked.

“Healers for your teeth,” Padma explained.

“Just for teeth?  Wild,” Millicent said.

“We won’t tell them if you don’t,” Parvati said airily, making Hermione snort but smile.

They left Honeydukes with a bag each and moved on to Scrivenshafts for writing accessories.  They then spent some time in Bookington’s Books and Things, with Hermione and Padma and Sue looking through things the most.  Parvati and Lavender found a section they enjoyed and were perusing as well.

“You would think we read enough for school,” Pansy said, shaking her head but her words carried no sting to them.

“Don’t let her fool you,” Millicent whispered to Harry.  “Pansy reads for fun too.”

“Millie…” Pansy growled.

“Her favorite thing are romance novels with the dumbest-OW!”  Millicent howled when Pansy kicked her in the rear.  “Hey!  That hurt!”  She chased a squealing Pansy out of the book store.

“What happened there?” Lavender asked, drawn by the noise.

“Apparently Pansy reads something she didn’t want shared and took offense when Millicent told me,” Harry smiled.

“Oooh, I’ll have to find out later,” Lavender grinned.  “Did you find anything?”

“Not really.  Nothing cooking related sadly but the owner said if he finds anything, he’ll let me know.  How about you?”

“I found a dream interpretation book I’m going to get for Divination.  And look at this History of Magical Fashion book I found!”

Harry looked at the pages with interest.  “I don’t know anything about fashion, but those look really old.”

“They are!  Hilariously so!  Some of it is nice and Parvati and I are going to see if we can modernize any of it.”

They left the bookstore and found Pansy indignantly rubbing her backside and Millicent hobbling slightly.  “I always knew you were a hardarse,” Millicent grumbled.  “I think I broke my foot kicking you!”

“You didn’t break it and if you did you deserve it,” Pansy retorted.  “She tried to kick me again after kicking me once and kicked a wall!  And she dented it, the poor stone!”

“Seriously, sisters,” Parvati said with Padma agreeing.

They capped off their trip by stopping at the Three Broomsticks for a late lunch.  The pub was filled with mostly Hogwarts students and Madam Rosmerta, the proprietress of the pub, carried drinks about and took orders while laughing and chatting with her guests and patrons.

Harry peeked through the kitchen window with interest, catching glimpses of the people cooking in the back.  The food at the Broomsticks was hearty pub fare and a few House Elves were there as servers, bringing people their orders and taking dishes away.

“Maybe you can get an apprenticeship with Madam Rosmerta,” Sue remarked, seeing how interested Harry was in everything.

“Oh, are those still a thing in the Wizarding World?” Hermione asked.

“For most professions, yes,” Pansy said.  “Some you have to do additional learning and classes beyond Hogwarts, like being a Healer obviously, but a lot of them do have a master or mistress and apprentice component to them.  Some professions necessitate it and if those that do not study under one are seen as less accomplished at their craft.”

She lowered her voice.  “I’m sure you can find a more suitable study instead of a simple tavern.”

“What’s wrong with a tavern?  We’re eating here after all,” Parvati asked.

“Nothing wrong with it per se,” Pansy said.  “But it lacks prestige.  People look down on you if you do not have an impressive reference or worked with someone noteworthy.”

“Even if the person that isn’t noteworthy is still really good at what they do?” Padma asked.  “That’s a bit silly.”

“That’s how things go,” Millicent said.  “Who you know is almost more important than what you do sometimes.”

“It’s like that at home,” Hermione said.  “In some ways.”

“Really?” Millicent and Pansy asked.

“Sure.  Some people choose their dentists based on where they went to school sometimes and some schools are more prestigious than others.  And that goes for other kinds of doctors and things too.”

Their meals arrived, an array of shepherd’s pie, fish and chips, and sandwiches.  Harry ordered a fish and chips for himself and he chewed thoughtfully.  “Mmm, tastes pretty good though.  Not overcooked or too salty.”

“You’ll like this,” Millicent said enthusiastically.  “Butterbeer, it’s delicious.”

He did.  The fizzy drink tasted sweet and was slightly chilled.  The foamy top was rich and buttery and the rest of the libation was cool and creamy with that bit of fizz to it.  “Is it like root beer?” he asked.

“What’s that?” Millicent asked.  “Muggles drink beer made from roots?”

“I think it used to,” Harry smiled.  “But it’s a drink for anyone to have and it doesn’t have any alcohol in it.  I was wondering if this does.”

“A negligible amount,” Pansy said dismissively.

Hermione sputtered.  “We’re allowed to drink it?!”

“Why not?”  Pansy looked genuinely confused.  “Any age can.”

“There isn’t a thing about underaged drinking?” Lavender asked.

“Oh, well, most Society families allow their children to drink wine after a certain age,” Pansy said.  “I’ve had it growing up.  Not enough to get drunk off of though.  And I’ve never heard of anyone ever getting drunk off butterbeer.”

“You can get into a lot of trouble drinking alcohol underage in the Muggle world,” Hermione said with Sue and Lavender and Harry agreeing with her.

“That’s fascinating,” Pansy said.  “Public intoxication isn’t even against the law.  It’s only pertinent if you are being a nuisance and if you are sufficiently inebriated, then it actually goes into your favor.”

“That’s hilarious,” Parvati laughed.  “And should I ask why you know that?”

“Not from personal experience, thank you,” Pansy said frostily, pinching a giggling Millicent.  “An uncle of mine discovered that.  My father likes to tell the story to keep him in his place.”

“The magical world is weird,” Harry smiled.  “So is the Muggle one too I guess.”

After they finished their meal, they left the tavern, only for some of the girls go back in to use the restroom and the others to fetch something they left behind.  Harry stood outside waiting for them for a moment, enjoying the afternoon breeze.

A prickling feeling crawling up his spine made him turn.  At first he wondered if a Dementor got too close to the village but it lacked the same sense of suffocating dread.  He looked about until he saw a large dog looking at him.  After a moment, he realized it looked exactly like the stray back in Surrey. 

“It can’t be,” he murmured as he looked at the large black dog.  “We’re really far away.  You’re not the same dog, are you?” he asked, feeling a bit silly for asking.

The dog, unsurprisingly, did not reply exactly.  It tilted its head though and smiled, tail wagging.

Harry smiled back.  “Hmm, I ate all my lunch but let’s see if we can get you something to eat.”  He wandered down the square to a vendor selling sandwiches and bought one, asking the dog what it preferred and the dog had barked loudly when asked about roast beef.  Harry handed the sandwich to the dog and he smiled when the dog danced about with appreciation, rubbing his head against the boy’s hand. 

“You’re welcome,” Harry said.  “Hope you find where you’re going soon.”  He watched as the dog left, carrying the sandwich in its mouth, and then walked back to the Three Broomsticks.

“Where were you?” Lavender asked when he found the girls waiting for him.

“I found a stray dog and it looks exactly like the stray I saw back in Surrey.”

“We’re awfully far away from London though,” Hermione said.  “Are you sure it’s the same?”

“I don’t know, just that it looked like it.  I got it a sandwich and it looked happy.”

“That was nice of you,” Pansy said.

“Well he’s used to feeding starving strays,” Parvati said.

“You better not be referring to us,” Padma frowned.

“You just called us bitches!” Lavender gasped with faux-outrage.

“What?!  No!  Don’t put words in my mouth!” Parvati said.  “But if the collar fits-“

Millicent laughed as Lavender and Padma chased Parvati up the lane, shouting at each other.  “It sure is interesting to see how people react to things.  I call Pansy a bitch a lot and she just bites me, which proves my point.”

“Whereas now, you send Sunny to do your dirty work,” Pansy sighed.

“Nah, she likes biting you.  That has nothing to do with me.  Besides, those are love bites.  That’s how she shows affection.”

“Oh, but when I do it, it’s not ‘acceptable’,” Pansy sniffed.

“You’re not a kneazle!  You should know better!”

“Sunny knows better!  I’m sure of it!”

“It sounds like you bit Sunny,” Harry joked.  He started laughing harder when Pansy flushed.  “Pansy, really?”

“I wanted her to have a taste of her own medicine,” Pansy grumbled while Millicent, Hermione, and Sue laughed with Harry.  “And it was to my own detriment.  She learned nothing and I learned she doesn’t taste good.”

“I’d be worried if you thought she did,” Harry chuckled, chuckling harder when Pansy poked him in the side a few times.

“I feel bad a little,” Millicent said when the laughter faded.

“For Sunny?” Harry asked.

“No, never for that.”  She grinned at Pansy’s sour look.  “I suggested we make today a day for you but you didn’t even let us get you anything to make up for your birthday.”

“Oh, well, spending the day with everyone is gift enough,” Harry said, cheeks pink.

“That was so cheesy,” Hermione laughed.

He grinned.  “True though.  There’s really no need to make it up to me.  Honestly.”

“Disagree,” Pansy and Millicent said together with the other two echoing in. 

“Well, maybe next year then?” Sue asked.

Harry looked down.  “Maybe,” he said, but was unsure how it would ever happen.

-0-

The sudden loud crack made Harry look up.  Before, the sudden noise would make him start but he was well used to it now.  In fact, he readily recognized the exact timbre of the crack, having heard it a lot as well as comparing it to other similar sounds.  “Hi Inky,” he said with a small smile.  His smile disappeared when he saw how agitated she was.  “What’s wrong?”

“Oh good, Harry is alright,” Inky said, releasing a big sigh of relief. 

“Should I not be?” Harry asked.

It was Halloween once more and Harry had not gone to the Feast, like the last two years.  As he got older, it was a little easier to come to terms to his feelings about the day.  Through his conversations with Lavender and the others, he was recognizing some of the things the Dursleys have said to him were not exactly right. 

That said, it still took a while for him to deal with his thoughts and feelings around certain things.  He still liked the little tradition he started for this day.  It brought him a sense of closure and a way to connect with the parents he lost.  The photo album he got from Remus and Hagrid helped a lot.  He often would look through it when he had time and tonight, he was able to do so slowly as he cooked the beef stew. 

Propping the book open to a page-sized picture of James and Lily helped him feel equal parts happier and sadder as he cooked and ate.

Inky’s sudden appearance had thrown off the melancholy feelings and he felt concern growing to replace the feelings.

“Bad man is in castle,” Inky said.  “Headmaster sent me to fetch you to the Great Hall.”

“Bad man?  Who?” Harry asked as he hurriedly put the stew into the enchanted ice box and carefully closed the photo album and hugged it to his chest.

“Just bad man,” Inky said.  “Come, not safe here.  Safer in Great Hall.”  She took his hand and they disapparated, reappearing in the Great Hall.  Harry swayed but managed to stay on his feet, shaking his head against the rush of disorientation.

“Ah good, thank you Inky,” Dumbledore said, relieved.  “Was there any trouble?”

“No trouble,” she replied.  “Room was secure and no one near.”

“Good.  Thank you,” Dumbledore said.

“Thank you, Inky,” Harry said.

“You’re welcome!  Inky report to kitchen to make late night things for people but call if needed.”  She waved and disappeared with another loud crack.

Harry looked around, seeing the students milling about and the usual tables and benches pushed against the walls.  “What happened?”

Dumbledore sighed.  “We had an intruder tonight.  Someone went up to Fat Lady’s portrait and attacked it when they were not allowed into Gryffindor Tower.”

“Is she okay?” Harry gasped.

“She is.  She escaped without harm.  Until we determine the castle to be safe, all the students will be sleeping down here tonight with the prefects and the Heads to watch over all while the faculty and the ghosts scour the castle and grounds.”  Dumbledore noticed a small group of people creeping closer.  “You should join your friends.  Worry not, Harry.”

“I’m not, I trust you,” Harry said and Dumbledore beamed at that.  Harry left and walked over to his friends who looked relieved to see him.  “Hey everyone.”

“There you are,” Lavender smiled.  “I was going to go get you but I wasn’t allowed to.”

“Inky got me,” Harry said, smiling back and feeling touched.  “Another weird Halloween, huh?”

“Yeah seriously.  The feast finished and we were about to leave but then one of the ghosts came in to talk to Dumbledore,” Parvati said.  “Then he said we were all staying here because there’s an intruder.”

“Who would break into Hogwarts?” Hermione asked.

“I heard it was Sirius Black,” Neville whispered.  “Someone told the prefects and they were muttering it among themselves.”

“Why did he want to get into Gryffindor tower?” Lavender gasped.

Harry felt cold.  “I think I know.  I think he’s after me.”

“What does that mean?!”  Sue, Padma, Luna, Millicent, and Pansy had walked over when Harry did and Pansy looked at Harry with wide eyes.  “What makes you say that?”

“Uhm, let’s find a private-ish spot,” Harry muttered when others looked over at Pansy’s outburst.  He and the others gathered large purple sleeping bags, conjured by Dumbledore, and were able to find a corner of the Great Hall unclaimed.

He took a deep breath.  “So, this summer, Remus, I mean Professor Lupin, went to Diagon with me because he said he didn’t want me to be there alone.  Apparently, there was a rumor that Sirius Black was coming to Hogwarts after breaking out of prison.”

“Why is he coming here?  Is he coming after you for some reason?!” Lavender asked, growing frightened.

“I have no idea.  I don’t know why he would be but Professor Lupin made it sound like he was,” Harry said.

“Why would he be coming after you?” Padma asked.

“Like I said, I have no idea,” Harry said weakly.  “To make it even weirder, he was friends with my parents, and he was friends with the wizard he murdered.”

“The Blacks have a rather unsavory reputation in Wizarding Britain,” Pansy said in the shocked silence that followed.  “They were…unstable.”

“Sounds like it,” Parvati said in an awed tone.  “Murders a bunch of Muggles and a wizard, breaks out of Azkaban, and is now trying to break into the school for who knows what reason.”

“I don’t think we have anything to worry about right now,” Harry said.  “The Headmaster is protecting us with all the others and we should be safe.”

“I hope you’re right,” Padma said uneasily.

-0-

Remus walked slowly, taking care to not make too much noise.  He did not want to wake any of the sleeping students and after checking on Harry and his friends in their corner, he picked his way out of the Great Hall and into the foyer.

“All is well?” Dumbledore asked when he walked into the foyer and saw Remus closing the door behind him gently.

“All is well,” Remus confirmed. 

“Good.”  Dumbledore rubbed his eyes tiredly.  “The castle and the grounds are clear and Hogsmeade is almost completely searched.  No signs.”  He looked at Remus.  “Severus says I should ask you again.”

“Of course,” Remus said, not insulted or bothered.  “I have no idea why Sirius would be here and while the evidence points towards Harry…” he sighed, “I don’t know why he would be targeting Harry.”

“Neither do I,” Dumbledore said quietly. 

“I take it the Ministry is upset?” Remus asked.

Dumbledore snorted.  “Indeed.  Twice now, the Dementors have failed.  Which, I am not terribly sad about to be truthful.  And yet, they remain as ineffectual watchers.”

“What is the Minister thinking?” Remus asked sourly.

“I have no idea,” Dumbledore grumbled, his tone laced with frustration.  “I honestly do not know if he is thinking at all.”

“Careful, Professor,” Remus smiled.

“What, are you going to report my words?” Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling.

“Never,” Remus chuckled.  “I am none too fond of the Minister myself.”

“He can be a good man, but he lets others do his thinking for him,” Dumbledore sighed.  “I do not have that luxury.”

“Or that idiocy.”

“Careful, Professor,” Dumbledore smiled.

Remus grinned and took his leave.  He slipped outside and looked about at the moonlit grounds.  He took several deep breaths, breathing through his nose.  Okay, if it is you, Sirius, let’s see if I can find you.  He loped into the Forest.  Perversely, it felt like old times.

Only this time, it felt a lot grimmer than it ever did before.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

36^th Course – Boiling Points

“I think it’s more curved,” Lavender said, looking down at her left palm. 

“I think you want to think it’s more curved,” Parvati protested. 

“I think you want to think you’re more curved,” Padma said in a not very innocent tone and a mischievous smile.

“First of all, low blow and we’re twins so you just called yourself out,” Parvati said, shooting Padma a look.  “Second of all, come here and tell us what you think.”

“Oh no, I’m not taking divination and I never put any faith in that, no matter what the aunties say,” Padma said, shaking her head.

“What are they arguing about?” Millicent asked, looking over with interest.

The friends were spending time in the clubroom.  They found themselves there more often these days.  It became a place for them to study together and interact with each other more easily and Flitwick did not mind that they used the room outside of club times.  As long as they were safe and respectful to one another, as well as getting anything Harry ‘accidentally’ made, he gave them his permission.  He, and the other Heads, liked the idea of the students from the different Houses wanting to spend more time together in a casual setting outside of other clubs.

Harry put a tray into the oven.  “Palm reading,” he explained.  “Apparently you have three or four lines on your palm and that helps tell your future or fortune or how you think.  The shape and appearances of the lines all matter.”

“You believe in it too?” Pansy asked.

“Not really, though I find it fascinating.  Lavender and Parvati were talking about it in the common room earlier and I was listening in.”  He started mixing something else in a bowl.  “Do Society people believe in palm reading and divination?”

“Some do, some don’t,” Pansy said.  “Usually when the portends suit them or are favorable.  But there are plenty of superstitions that older magicals follow.  Such as don’t do things on specific dates or don’t mix certain things.”

“Like don’t open an umbrella indoors, walk under an open ladder, and don’t cross black cats?” Harry asked.

“What’s wrong with black cats?” Millicent asked, incensed.

“Nothing but for Muggles, they think they’re bad luck because of them being related to witches.  Huh, fancy that,” Harry mused.

“Well that’s just silly, witches like cats and kneazels of all colors,” Millicent sniffed.

“Some of us don’t like cats or kneazles and it has nothing to do with their fur color,” Pansy said dryly. 

“See, she says stuff like this but most mornings I wake up and they’re sleeping together,” Millicent said. 

“Sunny does this thing where she drapes herself over your mouth,” Pansy said to a grinning Harry.  “I woke up the first time and thought Millie was trying to suffocate me.”

“Do you do that?” Harry asked, half concerned.

“When we were younger I did,” Millicent said openly.  “I thought she talked too much and I was trying to shut her up with a pillow.”

“Anyways,” Pansy said loudly, scowling lightly at a snickering Harry and a giggling Millicent, “to answer your question, yes.  Though ours are along the lines of do not make deals with the fae, beware of wolves under the full moon, do not over use witch-hazel unless you wish all to see you, and do not feed a tentacula after midnight.  Among many others.”

“Huh, that’s fun,” Harry said.  “Every culture has their own superstitions, right?”

Sue nodded.  “One of our major ones is avoiding the use of the number four in things if possible.  The word in Mandarin sounds a lot like the word for dead or death.  Red’s an auspicious color and it's good luck to give money on New Year’s and that sort of thing.”

“Harry, what do you think?”  Parvati and Lavender and Padma came over to the stove area.  “Does Lavender look curved to you?”  Parvati sighed when Harry went red and the others laughed at his expression and the implications of what she said.  “The heart line on her hand, you pervs.”

“You’re a perv, you knew what you were saying,” Padma replied smartly.

“She’s a Parv,” Lavender sighed.  She gave Harry a slightly embarrassed look.  “You don’t have to answer her.”

“I don’t know,” Harry said, slightly embarrassed but laughing with the others.  “I don’t have a frame of reference.”  He flushed even more at more laughter and giggling.  “As in I don’t study palm reading!”

“Oh just compare it to your own,” Parvati said.  “Here, give me your hand.”  She took Harry’s left hand in hers.  “See, this line up here is the heart line, this one is the headline, that’s lifeline, and whoa hey look Harry has a fate line.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Harry asked, nervous.

“No, it’s just not a lot of people have a fate line.”  Parvati looked at his hand with interest.  “But anyways, see how your heartline curves here a bit?  Lavender thinks hers is more curved and I think yours is more curved than hers.”

“What’s the big deal with it being curved or not curved?” Hermione asked.

“It’s about nuance and interpretation,” Lavender said.

“You just don’t want to be accused that you fall in love too easily,” Parvati said slyly.

“And you don’t like to be told that you’re easily heart-broken,” Lavender said back just as slyly.

“There might be some proof to that,” Padma said thoughtfully.

“Quiet you,” Parvati said hastily.  “You don’t believe in it so you don’t get to comment on it.”  She looked back at Harry’s hand.  “Whoa what’s this?  You have a different line here!” 

Lavender leaned over to look.  “You do!  What does that mean?!”

“Uh, I think it means I should wash my hands more,” Harry said weakly.  “That’s dried honey I think.” 

“Oh you’re right,” Parvati said, licking her lips.

“Parvati, you did not just lick Harry’s hand!” Padma shouted.

“What?!  It’s just honey!”

“Don’t go around licking random people’s hands!”

Parvati rolled her eyes.  “I don’t go around licking random people’s hands, thank you!  I licked Harry’s hand because it was just honey and we’re pals and it’s fine!  Right Harry?!”

Harry felt his face burn and he gaped at his friend.  “Uh…sure?”

“See?”  Parvati glared back at a very disapproving Padma while the others hooted with laughter though Lavender and Pansy looked as incensed as Padma did, maybe even more so.

“Anyways, you made these with the honey?”  Parvati popped a small round baked thing into her mouth and chomped on it.  “Hey, this is great!  What are they?”

“Owl treats,” Harry grinned.

“Wait, really?” Parvati asked, mouth stopped in mid-bite.

“Yup!  Regular owl treats taste awful so I made new ones.  They are made mostly from chickpeas because they have a lot of protein, something I read out of a nutrition book.  I mix in some honey and other things for flavor.”

“Are they safe for people to eat?” Hermione asked.

“Mmhmm.  You can eat the regular owl treats but like I said, they taste terrible.  I swore I’d make a good alternative so here they are.  I made the mix and formed them and baked them.”

“They taste pretty good,” Parvati said, finishing her mouthful of owl treat.  As she reached out for another she paused.  “Wait.  You’re making owl treats.  Are they for Hedwig?”

“Yep!” Harry smiled.

An angry hoot made Parvati turn and she smiled weakly at a very fluffed up and upset Hedwig.  “They’re really good?  Ahhh!  I’m sorry!  Harry, help!”  She ran around the room, chased by a vengeful Hedwig who hooted and barked shrilly, beating at Parvati with her wings and pecking her irritably.

“Now’s probably a good time to try them without drawing attention,” Padma remarked, watching her sister fleeing from the irate owl with satisfaction.  She nibbled on a piece.  “Mmm, these are nice!”

“I never thought I would willingly eat an owl treat,” Pansy said as she chewed, “but they are very pleasant.  Crunchy but not hard, slightly sweet, quite nice.”

“I’m making bacon ones too of course,” Harry said.  “But I need to keep her from eating too much.  At her last checkup, Hagrid said she needed to cut down on some.  She didn’t like that but it’s for her own good.” 

When Parvati ran by next, Harry reached up and deftly caught Hedwig in mid flight.  He hugged her to him, keeping her from flapping her wings, and popped a treat into her beak.  “Don’t worry, I’m making plenty for you.  You can share, right?”

Hedwig narrowed her eyes but did not stop chomping on her treat, her hooting muffled.

“Don’t talk with your beak full,” Harry chided gently.  He smiled when she looked up at him with reproach.  “The bacon ones are almost done.”

Hedwig grumbled but stayed still in his arm, chewing rebelliously.

“Can you make cat treats?” Millicent asked.  “I’ll pay of course.”

“Oh I wouldn’t mind some for Crookshanks too,” Hermione said.

“Sure, I’d be happy to figure something out,” Harry smiled.

“You know, my tea leaves did say I was going to have some trouble today,” Parvati panted as she sat down. 

“They also said it would be self-inflicted,” Lavender said with a sharp smile.

“Anyone that knows Parvati would know that half of the trouble is self-inflicted,” Padma snorted.

“I’ll be happy to share the trouble,” Parvati retorted.  “Hedwig!  She’s eating some too!”

Harry sighed when Hedwig struggled free and chased the Patil sisters about the clubroom.  “At least she’s getting some exercise,” he said while the others laughed.

-0-

The next day, they hurried into the castle, literally blown in by strong wind.  Winter was coming and it promised to be a cold one, the wind being very frosty and driving the chill into the body.  The Care of Magical Creatures class had been rather pleasant.  Hagrid built several bonfires and was teaching them about salamanders, the magical variety loved fire and preferred to sit in blazing fires.  They would scamper from fire to fire, and if handled correctly, liked to be petted.  With the aid of the salamanders, the students remained warm for class but had to brave the cold to return to the castle.

“I’m glad you thought of these hand warmers,” Harry said, his nose red.  He put the round stone back into his pocket.  “They’re really handy.”

“Me too,” Hermione said, teeth chattering.  “Just a warming charm isn’t quite enough.”

“It would be if you were competent,” someone said, their voice colder than the wind.  Draco lounged against the main staircase with some other Slytherins.  He looked at the group with scornful eyes, his gaze turning even colder when he saw Pansy and Millicent with them.  “A real wizard would not need to rely on those things to stay warm.  All you need is magic.”  He lifted his nose.  “That is, if you were worthy of it.”

“Yeah, and that cloak of yours is just for show?” Harry asked mildly, raising an eyebrow.

Draco colored while Harry’s friends chuckled at the remark.  He resisted the urge to draw the very heavy cloak around him tighter against the chill.  “Better than anything you can afford,” he sneered back.

“Probably,” Harry said blandly.  “Excuse us.”  He began to walk away.

“You are not excused,” Draco said.

“I wasn’t actually asking, just saying,” Harry said, continuing to walk away.

“That’s right, run away,” Draco said loudly.  “What a good little Gryffindor you are, running away all the time.  A credit to your House.”

“I’d say you’re a credit to yours by being a bully,” Lavender said shortly, glaring at him.  “That is if I didn’t know better since I know some proper people from Slytherin.”  She glanced at Pansy and Millicent with a significant look.

“Shut your mouth,” Draco exclaimed angrily.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Harry said, turning to face Draco directly.

The pale boy smiled.  “Oh?  So that’s all it takes to make you stand your ground?  Being rude to the likes of her?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed.  “She’s my best friend and I’ll definitely stand up for her.  She’s done it for me and I’ll do it for her.  Just leave us alone, Malfoy.”

“Or else what?” Draco replied.  A crowd was beginning to gather, watching the growing conflict eagerly.  “How about we settle this then?  Properly?”  He laughed scornfully at Harry’s confusion.  “You do not even know what I mean, do you?  Pathetic!  You call yourself a wizard?”

“He means a duel,” Pansy said.  She looked at Draco coolly, ignoring his heated look.  “And it’s not just a magical thing, it’s specifically a Society thing.  An Honor Duel.” 

“Dueling between students is against the rules,” Hermione said softly, looking at Harry and Lavender and Pansy.

“I’m not about to break any rules for you,” Harry said, looking at Draco.  “You’re not worth it.”

Draco seethed.  “If you refuse, then you are a coward and you show how little you think of your friend then.”  His seething became something smug when he saw Harry bristle.

“If we are doing this properly,” Pansy said loudly, drawing their attention, “then we need to follow the protocols.  I assume you mean an honor duel?”

“Obviously,” Draco spat.

“You can refuse the terms of the duel,” Pansy said to Harry.  “Then suggest a counter to it.  If he refuses it, then it will go to a third-party arbitrator to decide the parameters.  Challenge him to what you do best.”

“You stay out of this!” Draco shouted.

“No!  A gentleman would act accordingly in Honor Duels,” Pansy said back.  “Especially if the opponent is unaware of the protocols!  Are you a gentleman of good standing?  Mister Malfoy?”  Her smile was equally smug at his angry flush.  “You can do it, Harry,” she said to Harry.  “Go on, challenge him back on your terms.”

“What I do best?  What, like cooking?” he asked, uncertain.

“Precisely.  Honor Duels are not just in the circle and using spells, there can be all sorts of competitions,” Pansy said.

“Stop interfering!” Draco said angrily.

“Is there someone that can act like an advisor in these things?” Harry asked all of a sudden.  “Especially for people like me that don’t understand everything.”

“Yes, your second,” Millicent said, also ignoring Draco.  “They also take over if you’re indisposed.”

“Pansy’s my second then,” Harry said.  Pansy threw Draco a large smile that went from ear to ear.  “I’ll also listen to her and challenge you to a cooking competition.”

“Done!”  Draco smiled at Pansy’s and Millicent’s looks of shock.  “You think I did not expect you to make this about playing with food?  I expected it and planned accordingly.  Now to finally prove my superiority over you, Potter.  Nott is my second in this.”  He threw one hateful look at Harry, Pansy, and Millicent and stomped away.

“I didn’t expect that,” Millicent said as the crowd of students broke up, everyone chatting and talking excitedly over what just happened.  “I mean, last year they said he baked something but I thought it was just him lying.”

“Harry, I’m sorry,” Lavender said, upset.  “I didn’t mean for you to have to do this.”

“It’s okay,” Harry said firmly.  “I’m not going to let him be rude to you or any of my friends and I don’t care if he suddenly learned how to cook, he’s not beating me in the kitchen.”  He turned to Pansy and Millicent.  “Thanks for helping me by the way, but I’m sorry for putting you in that position too.  I don’t want to let him be rude to you two either.”

Pansy blinked a few times.  “No, I willingly put myself there, like you’re willingly standing up for Lavender.  His attitude is atrocious, taking advantage of your ignorance.”  She looked a bit uncertain.  “The Draco I knew before would not know how to cook anything but I’ll admit that we haven’t spoken really in a long time.  I have no idea if he has learned or what he has learned.  It does feel like he did plan for this.”

“I don’t care if he has prepared,” Harry said in a confident tone.  “With all the years I’ve been in the kitchen, there is no way he’s beating me in cooking.  Absolutely not.”

“Wow, confident Harry is really cool,” Parvati grinned.

“Yeah he is,” Lavender whispered.

-0-

“I have something for you,” Snape said.

“Oh?” Dumbledore asked, not looking up from the letter he was reading.

“Yes, it should be enough to temporarily quench your thirst for teenaged drama,” Snape said dryly.

“Ah, please go on,” Dumbledore smiled and looked up, giving Snape his full attention.

“Mister Malfoy has challenged Mister Potter to an Honor Duel.”

“On what grounds?” McGonagall asked.

“Malfoy claims that Potter insulted him and he demands satisfaction.  From what I have learned, while Potter did insult him, Malfoy instigated things and goaded Potter into the duel by attacking Miss Brown.”  Snape sighed wearily.  “I have half a mind to ignore all of this but it grew into a Proper Honor Duel with assistance from Miss Parkinson.”

“She helped Malfoy?” McGonagall asked, eyes narrowed.

“The contrary, she aided Potter,” Snape said.  “By providing insight into the procedures and protocols.”

“Hmm, a bit of a surprise but then again, she and Harry are close friends,” Dumbledore mused.

“Quite.  Again, I have half a mind to ignore this and tell them to forget it but Malfoy has threatened to involve his father.”  Snape turned thoughtful.  “Though I will admit, Lucius has been rather quiet lately.”

“I have noticed that as well,” Dumbledore said.  “I have received less complaints from him.”

“That said, he is as prickly about protocol as his son so I can see this becoming something even more annoying than it already is,” Snape concluded.  “I said I would speak with you since you have the final say as Headmaster.”

“When was the last time we entertained an Honor Duel?” McGonagall asked. 

“Many years, they were briefly outlawed after the end of the war,” Dumbledore said.  “And since then, only a handful and those were unfortunately unavoidable.  Is this one avoidable?”

“Draco has become…more aggressive,” Snape said quietly.  “Ever since his brief petrification, he has used the incident as a flag and a goad and a shield all in one.  Slights to him before could be reasoned with but this time, I do not know.”

“Harry is good in class and with spells but I do not think he knows anything about dueling,” McGonagall said worriedly.  “Unless Filius has taught him in their club.  But that club is not Dueling club.”

“Actually, the parameters of the duel isn’t dueling.”  Snape rolled his eyes ever so slightly.  “It is cooking.”

“Draco agreed to that?” Dumbledore asked, surprised.

“He was waiting for it, if anything,” Snape said.

McGonagall snorted.  “I know I am well used to telling students they cannot do something and in this case, I cannot think Malfoy can beat Harry in a cooking contest.”

“’A Malfoy does not go into a contest without some plan’,” Dumbledore said, “something Lucius tells me often.  Hmmm.  Curious.”

“What do we do?” Snape asked.

“Well, we might as well see if we can arbitrate a little and if not, ensure a fair contest,” Dumbledore said.  “Call them up.”

“They have seconds already,” Snape said dryly.

Dumbledore laughed.  “Call them up as well then.”

-0-

Dumbledore looked at the students thoughtfully, gauging their facial reactions.  Draco, predictably, looked equal parts angry and smug, as if being there was a large concession on his part.  Theodore Nott, a slight and thin boy, tried to mimic an expression of cool disdain but he lacked the years of experience and the practice for it, looking slightly constipated instead.

Pansy was much better at pretending to look cool and calm, but she was shooting looks at Harry and Draco.  Worry for the former, irritation for the latter.  Harry wore his emotions a little closer to the surface.  He was nervous, understandably so, but had a bit of irritation towards Draco as well.  Lavender was there too, looking the most nervous.  She had insisted on coming because she said she was the cause of everything and had explained her side.

Dumbledore had listened to everyone speak their piece and he now sat and ruminated slowly, watching his students for a few moments.  “Well, I do not suppose an apology from all parties would suffice?” he asked mildly, already knowing the answer.

“No,” Draco said shortly.

“If he apologized sincerely to Lavender,” Harry said.

“I have nothing to apologize for,” Draco said coldly.

Dumbledore sighed softly.  “Very well.  Since the duel will be cooking related, I will allow it.  It will happen in one of the larger classrooms at ground level and it will not be public, there is no need to make a spectacle of it.  I and the Heads will watch and to keep things fair, we will have a student from each House be judges for the food.  Each will cast a vote and in the event of a tie, the Heads can cast a tie-breaker.”

“And who will these judges be?” Draco asked.

“We will determine that here, by mutual decision.  The student will be asked if they wish to participate and if so, they will be a judge.  If not, we will choose another.  We should keep the pool of candidates to students in your year.”

“No one from the Household Charms club should be allowed,” Theo said readily.  “They cannot be trusted to be impartial.”

“Fair enough,” Dumbledore said.  “Harry, as the challenged, you may pick someone first.  Feel free to discuss it with your second.”

Harry looked at Pansy.  “Who do you think?”

“Daphne,” she said without hesitation.  “She will be impartial and while she doesn’t love Gryffindor, she doesn’t love Draco either.”

“Daphne Greengrass for Slytherin,” Harry said without question.

Draco was clearly caught unprepared for that and he threw Pansy a scathing look and whispered with Theo for a moment.  “Finnegan for Gryffindor,” he said smugly.

“He’s banking on the fact that you and Finnegan aren’t friends,” Pansy muttered.  “Has that changed?”

“Not really,” Harry said sheepishly.  “He’s less hostile but he’s not Ron either who’s been a bit friendlier.”

“Very well.  Too bad Bones is a part of the club now and I don’t think you should let Draco pick from Smith or MacMillan, both are Society boys,” she muttered.  “That leaves Finch-Fletchley or Abbott and Abbott doesn’t like you.  Do you know anything about the other?”

“I know he’s Muggleborn and his family is rich there, Hermione mentioned it before.”

“We are waiting,” Draco said, exaggerating his tone.

“Patience is a virtue for a gentleman,” Pansy said back frostily and ignored his look of anger.  “I don’t know who would be better.”

“I say Hannah.”

“Have you forgotten you are her nemesis?!” Pansy hissed.

“I don’t accept that first of all,” Harry said, face red.  “But she’s a baker and a cook too, right?”

“Allegedly!”

“Then she will allegedly pick whatever tastes better and I know Draco won’t beat me there!”

Pansy thought for a moment.  “Fine.”  She turned to Dumbledore.  “Hannah Abbott for Hufflepuff.”

Draco grinned.  “Ha!  Giving up already?”

“No, just giving you an edge,” Harry retorted.  “You’re going to need it.”

Lavender and Pansy gasped, looking at Harry with wide admiring eyes.  McGonagall stifled a proud smile while Snape snorted softly.  Draco and Theo looked incensed, sputtering.  Dumbledore steepled his fingers in front of his face to hide his smile.

“I will make you beg for forgiveness on your knees when you lose,” Draco snarled.  “I do not care who from Ravenclaw.  I do not even know the names for the boys since both girls are in the Household Charms club.”

“I am sure Professor Flitwick will be devastated,” Dumbledore said dryly.  “Very well.  We will ask them and the duel will take place in two tomorrow.  Ingredients will be provided by the kitchens so the both of you will be working on even footing.”

He stopped and a thoughtful look crossed his features.  After a moment, he smiled once more, a broad and knowing smile.  “In fact, I would like to add something to the contest.  I think a common ingredient, one that the both of you need to use and showcase, should be included to show your talents and abilities.  How does that sound?”

“I am fine with that, Sir,” Harry said.

“Fine,” Draco said shortly.  “What is it then?”

“How about beef?” Dumbledore suggested.  “Broad enough of an ingredient with many ways to use it.”

“Accepted,” Draco said.

“Yes Sir,” Harry nodded.

“Until tomorrow then,” Dumbledore said.  He watched as Draco and Theo stomped out and after waiting a few moments, Harry and Lavender and Pansy followed out much more sedately.  After waiting for an appropriate time, Dumbledore chuckled.  “Is it bad that I am looking forward to this?”

“Normally, in the interests of remaining impartial, yes,” McGonagall said.  “In this case however, I too am looking forward to it.”

“It will be interesting at least,” Snape said blandly.  “Better than watching them try to throw spells at each other.”  He looked at Dumbledore.  “Why did you make that addition to the contest?”

“I confess I have been paying more attention to cooking competitions and things the last year or so,” Dumbledore said.  “I saw that as a basis for one and I believe it does level the playing field in a way.”  He rose from the desk.  “I believe I will ask Mister Boot if he would like to participate for Ravenclaw.  He has been performing well and this would be a form of congratulations.”

“Not to mention he is not a part of Society like Greengrass and Abbott,” Snape observed.  “Another way to even the field?”

“A bit of balance, yes,” Dumbledore said.

“I can only hope that this will be the final knell in things,” McGonagall said.

Snape snorted deeply.  “You truly do not believe that.  No matter the outcome, things will only get worse.  Especially that it will be public and there will be little to no room for interpretation.”

“You are probably right,” she sighed.

“It was coming to a head no matter what,” Dumbledore said.  “Might as well enjoy the show.”

-0-

“Wow Harry,” Lavender said as the trio walked down the hall, “Draco really got to you.”

“Yeah,” Harry admitted.  “Well, I mean, he did and didn’t before but this time he did.”

“Is it my fault?” she asked quietly, feeling bad.

He put an arm around her shoulder.  “No.  If he went after anyone, you or Pansy or Parvarti or Padma or anyone I call a good friend, I would’ve done the same.  That’s not your fault and don’t feel bad.”  He sighed heavily.  “Ever since he made it a cooking contest, it got to me.  When we met on the train, as firsties, he was so rude and scathing about people liking to cook.  And you’ve seen how he reacts when I like to learn about food and how the Wizarding World treats cooking and food.”

He shook his head.  “So now him all of a sudden being able to cook and thinking he can beat me in cooking really rubs me the wrong way.  I don’t care if he’s better at magic than me, it makes sense since he grew up with it.  I don’t care if he’s richer than me.  I don’t care that he…has a real family,” he said bitterly.  “But I won’t let him take cooking from me.  Not something I’ve worked my whole life on and genuinely care about.”

His arm came off Lavender’s shoulders and he clenched his hands, taking a shuddering breath.  He relaxed when Lavender touched his hand and he breathed out slowly, relaxing his hands.  “Sorry,” he muttered.  “That’s arrogant of me, isn’t it?”

“No,” Pansy said softly but firmly.  “You are proud of your skills and rightfully so.  Draco is being flippant and he is being arrogant when he has done it for far less time than you and thinks he can defeat you.  You are proud.  He is pride.  There’s a difference.”

Harry smiled wanly.  “Thank you.  And thank you again for being my second and helping me.  I know you’re friends with him and this must really be affecting you.”

“Yeah, we’d be really out of depth without you,” Lavender said sincerely.  “Thank you so much.”

Pansy also took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “Draco and I were…are…friends,” she said after a moment’s hesitation.  “We used to be very close but before school started, we weren’t anymore.  It’s been steadily getting worse.”

“Are you helping us to spite him?” Lavender asked.  “Sorry if that’s rude.”

“No, I mean, in part.”  She shook her head and then looked surprised when Lavender patted her hand comfortingly.  “Before, when I first started being friendly to you, I will admit there was some pleasure in knowing he was irritated by it.”

She looked at Harry and Lavender.  “But now, you are my friend, my friends.  You have stood up for me and have been kind to me, despite some of my actions and past behavior.  That is something he has not done in a long time.”  Her smile was a little sad.  “It’s easy being your friends and it’s getting harder and harder being his.”

She took a deep breath and released it slowly, standing straight.  “But he was willing to take advantage of your ignorance and while that is a legitimate tactic, I couldn’t let that happen to you.  So I stand by my decision.”  Her eyes widened when Lavender hugged her, somewhat awkwardly but sincerely.  Her eyes got even wider when Harry hugged her next without reservation and she hugged them back firmly.

“I hope this doesn’t make things too bad for you,” Harry said when they broke apart.

Pansy put on a brave face.  “I can handle it if it does.”

-0-

“Welcome back,” Draco said sardonically, applauding lethargically and sarcastically when Pansy returned to the Slytherin common room.  “What now, traitor?  Are you going to stab me in the back to ensure your little friend’s victory?”

Pansy gave him a very cold look.  “Harry will prove his abilities in the duel on his own merit.”

“How could you do this to me?” he asked, words dripping with venom.  “How could you betray me like this!  Without your aid, I would have him over a cauldron!”

“Oh yes, and what a glorious victory that would be,” she spat back.  “A gentleman of an Ancient and Noble house crying victory over an ignorant opponent who lost because they did not understand anything.  What a tough fight!  How sweet the victory would be!”

Plenty of students were in the common room, watching with great interest.  Tensions between Pansy and Draco rose and fell like the sea but lately the tide had been rising, and they could see the crest forming.

“A foe is defeated in any possible way,” Draco sneered back.  “Their ignorance is their fault.”

“You should be thanking me for making it even,” Pansy retorted.  “Your victory would be more meaningful.  That is, if you win.”

“Perhaps you should be wearing crimson and gold,” Draco said scathingly.  “You bleed it, apparently.

“I am a proud Slytherin,” she said back.  “And we both bleed red, Draco.”

“We do not bleed the same as your little friends in Gryffindor,” Draco said, raising his nose.  “The Pansy I knew would not be caught dead in the company of Halfbloods and Mudbloods.”

“Do not use that word around me,” she said sharply.  “And I have changed, Draco.  As you have changed.  The Draco I knew would never be so cruel.”

“Shows what little you knew then,” he replied coldly.  He snorted softly.  “Ah, you know, I think I know why you are so desperate to remain in Potter’s good graces.”

“What?”  Pansy was caught wrongfooted, unsure of what Draco was meaning.

“Oh is it such a surprise?  I have watched you, you know.  All those pathetic looks you throw at Potter and his friends.  How that girl hangs off him.”  Draco's smile was cold and cruel.  “It is much easier for him to obtain such comforts, with them being in the same House after all.”  He gave her a look up and down.  “As if you could compare yourself to her in appearance.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pansy said, voice shaking.

“I do,” he said.  He heard the tremor in her voice, scenting blood and weakness.  He went in.  “You wish that was you.  You think that if you help him so unwaveringly, so faithfully, he will remember you and keep you around.  As long as you remain useful, he will not cast you aside, like someone else has.”

He shook his head pityingly.  “So sad.  You used to be such a strong girl, worthy of your family’s name.  Now you just throw yourself at the first other boy to show you any attention, desperate for anything and everything you can get.  Like a wanton-“

CRACK

The watchers gasped and gaped, staring with gigantic eyes.  Draco’s head turned back, one pale cheek bright red, an imprint of a hand forming on it.  Pansy’s chest heaved from emotion and exertion, her hand smarting from the impact.  Tears of embarrassment and pain and anger grew in her eyes and Draco stared at her, looking like a beast caught in the light, laid bare.

“You…you slapped me,” he gasped.  “You have never struck me before.  Not even as children.”

“You have never been this cruel to me before,” she whispered, her voice small and lost and cold.  “How dare you?  How dare you say that to me?  Insinuate that to me?!”  As if finally noticing the watchers, Pansy stalked past him, flinching away at his outstretched hand.  She rushed to her room and slammed the door behind her.

She sat on her bed, buried her face into her hands, and wept silently.  Shoulders shook, body trembled.  She bit her lip to keep her pain silent, not wanting to give it voice or volume.  She flinched when the door opened and closed, trying to curl deeper into herself.  She felt the bed move beside her.  Felt Millicent wrap her arms around her.  Felt Sunny wriggle onto her lap.

“Hey,” Millicent said.

Pansy sniffled.

“That was an awesome slap,” Millicent said lightly.

Pansy sniffled again.

“I’m here,” Millicent said softly.

Pansy let herself fall to pieces.  She could afford to now, with someone else holding her together.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

37^th Course – Stand the Heat

“I wish I could be there to watch you crush Malfoy,” Parvati said.  “There’s no way you’ll lose to that pompous prat.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Harry said, somewhat distracted.  He was looking through his two cookbooks and making notes on his wax tablet. 

“You can’t possibly think you’ll lose,” Hermione said, incredulous.

“I really don’t think I will,” Harry said, chewing on his quill feather.  “But there’s always a chance I mess up and there’s a chance he’ll make something that tastes really good.  I don’t want to get cocky or…what’s that word where I mess up by being too cocky?”

“Complacent?” Lavender offered.

“Yeah, that.  I don’t want to be that.”  Harry wiped the tablet clean with a tap of his wand and went back to scribbling.  “Besides, I don’t want to just win, it has to taste good too.  And it has to be something the judges will want to eat and like.”

“So everyone who was picked by you two agreed to be judges?” Parvati asked.  She hummed when Harry nodded.  “Well, Seamus will probably vote for you just to spite Draco.  He and you don’t get along really but he hates Draco on principle.  Right Ron?”

Ron nodded.  “He really doesn’t like Malfoy.”

“I’m not counting on that,” Harry said, “and like I said, I want it to be good too.”

“Terry is nice,” Padma said.  “He doesn’t have any odd tastes in food or doesn’t lean a certain way in what he likes or doesn’t like I don’t think.”

“I still can’t believe you picked Hannah,” Neville said.  “Sorry Susan.”

“Oh don’t apologize, I can’t believe you picked Hannah,” Susan said.  “I wasn’t kidding, she really thinks you’re her nemesis.”

“Yeah but will she vote against me just because of that?” Harry asked with a slight huff.

“No,” Susan said stoutly.  “She has standards and she also hates Malfoy so she won’t.”  After a moment she shrugged.  “At least, she shouldn’t.”

“Would Smith and MacMillan join with Malfoy because they’re all Society?” Lavender asked.

“Uhm, Smith might.  He’s an arse that way and he is really snooty about being in Society,” Susan said after some thought.  “Ernie doesn’t like the Malfoys much but he is pretty deep set in thinking that Society families are better and all that.  So probably not a bad choice in the end for Hannah.”

“Wait, people really would vote for other Society families even if they don’t think they legitimately won the contest?” Hermione asked.

“Some do,” Neville said with Susan agreeing.

“That’s not right,” Hermione said, shocked.

“That’s politics,” Neville said.  “Half the deals in the Wizengamot are from members buying votes and support.”

“The whatagot?” Harry asked.

“Wizengamot.  It’s the body of government in the Ministry,” Susan explained.  “The Heads of the families that are a part of it sit on it and they determine laws and people can be trialed by them and all sorts of things.  It’s the pillar of governance going back to when Wizarding Britain was founded.”

“That sounds kind of corrupt if people can buy votes and things,” Lavender said.

“That’s politics,” Neville repeated with a snort.  “Been like that forever.”

“Who gets to be on the Wizengamot?” Lavender asked.

“Most of the seats are hereditary,” Luna said, looking up from her sketchbook.  “Lots of families own their seats through generations, passing them down from Head to Head.  Daddy wrote an article once saying that the seats demand a head to sit on them and that if anyone they don’t like sit on them, they bite them on the bum and the seat loses power forever.”

“She’s not completely wrong,” Ron said, giving Luna a confused look.  “Families own their seats and they aren’t lost unless the family does something bad and gets kicked off or can’t pay the fee to keep it.  It’s really hard for anyone else to become a member of the Wizengamot.”

“No one votes for them?” Hermione asked.

“If there is a vacancy for a new seat after a previous family has been voted out or the seat has been given up,” Neville said.  “But voted on by sitting members of the Wizengamot.”

“Not the public?” Hermione asked.  She looked scandalized at Susan and Neville and Ron and Luna’s head shakes.  “That’s not right at all!  How can they claim to uphold the will of the people then?  Do what’s in their best interests?”

“They…don’t say that,” Susan said weakly.

“Don’t tell me that’s politics,” Hermione said when Neville opened his mouth,

“Okay I won’t,” he said instead.

“Well we have an idea of what the other three are like, anyone knows what Greengrass is like?” Parvati asked.

“She’s uptight but not in a bad way,” Millicent said, walking into the clubroom.  “Very Society but her family is known for being stubborn and doing what they want most of the time.  She’s no friend of Draco either.”

“Does she buy into the House unity thing?” Sue asked.

“When she feels like it,” Millicent said.  “But only when she feels like it and not out of any form of loyalty.  As in, she doesn’t do it because you’re supposed to.”

“So you have one person that hates you but hates him too, one person that nothings you, one person that hates the other guy more than you,” Parvati said, counting on her fingers.  She looked at Millicent.

“Make that two people that nothing you,” Millicent said after a moment’s thought.  “She doesn’t care for Gryffindor as a whole but she doesn’t have an issue with you personally as far as I know.”

“Does anyone know what their favorite foods are?” Ron asked.

“It’s okay,” Harry sighed when people shook their heads.  “I wouldn’t want to cater to them that way either.  I’ll just have to do what I do best.”    

“You’re very good at that,” Luna said, a bright smile on her face.  “Make your tasty art and you will be fine.”

“Thanks Luna,” Harry smiled.  He noticed how Millicent looked and noticed how she was alone.  He walked over to her.  “Where’s Pansy?”

“She’s in our room resting,” Millicent said quietly.  “She and Draco got into a huge fight last night.”

“Oh no, it’s my fault isn’t it,” Harry groaned.

“Yes in the sense it started over the duel,” Millicent sighed.  “But Draco took it too far this time.  Basically said you only keep her around because she’s useful and she’s desperate for attention and that’s the only reason she’s your friend.  He said some really gross stuff about her in front of everyone.”

“What?!” Harry shouted, drawing everyone’s attention.  “That’s not the reason at all!  I’m friends with her and you because I want to be and you two are good friends!”

“I know that and you know that,” Millicent said, her voice also heated.  “Pansy knows that, deep down, but it got to her and she slapped him in the face and cried.  She had a bad night.”

Harry growled for a moment.  “Is she okay?”

“She will be, I think,” Millicent said sadly.  “Don’t worry, she’ll still be there as your second.  She’s just taking time getting ready.  She’s still upset.”  She looked Harry directly in the eye.  “I hope you crush Draco.”

“Don’t worry,” Harry said, eyes burning.  “It’s really personal now.”

-0-

They assembled in a very large room on the ground level of the castle.  The kitchen elves had set it up with identical equipment on either side of the room with ingredients and other things in the middle.  The four judging students were seated in the middle along the wall so they could watch and the four Heads of the Houses stood to one side with the Headmaster to watch as well.

Terry looked the most interested, sitting there and looking around with an eager expression.  Seamus looked a bit out of place, giving Draco a dirty look while giving Harry a complicated expression.  Daphne appeared bored on the surface.  She sat in her seat with hands folded and looked coolly detached.  Hannah fidgeted in her seat, looking like she did not want to be there.

Snape shared that expression, though he was more obvious about it, looking bored and disinterested.  Flitwick was eager and McGonagall looked determined.  Sprout appeared interested in everything, sitting in her seat comfortably.  Dumbledore exuded his usual aura of calm geniality, as if the occasion was a pleasant diversion.

Harry stood at his station, eyes gazing off into nothing as he rolled his plans about in his head.  Every so often, he would throw Draco a cool look that the other boy ignored, content to whisper snide things to Theo.

“Hey,” Harry greeted softly when Pansy came in and walked to him.  “Are you okay?”

She scrubbed her eyes with her hand.  “Millie told you,” she said.

“She did,” Harry said.  “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Pansy said quietly, not looking across the room at all.  “You didn’t force him to say those things.  You didn’t force me to slap him.”

“I heard it was an awesome slap,” he joked and felt better when a ghost of a smile appeared.

“I suppose,” she said and her smile faded.  “I’m…I’m okay.  I think.”

“I’m going to crush him,” Harry vowed, shooting Draco a look that startled the other boy, making him look uncertain for a moment.

The smile returned on Pansy’s face.  “For me?”

“Definitely.  You stood up for me, now it’s my turn,” Harry said.

“The rules are as follows,” Dumbledore began and everyone turned to look at him.  “You have one hour to prepare what you wish from the ingredients here.  At the end of the time, you will serve a portion to each judge and they will judge the winner based on the dish they received.  Any questions?”

“No Sir,” Harry said.

“None,” Draco said.

“Very well, begin,” Dumbledore said and turned a large hourglass.  Grains of sand fell within the apparatus and it pulsed with light.  Harry and Draco went to the table of ingredients and both left laden.  Harry carried his on a sheet tray and Draco levitated one with his wand. 

“Oh my,” McGonagall said.  “They picked very similar things.”

“Beef, pastry, and mushrooms I see,” Flitwick mused.  “Onion, no those are shallots, are all the same.  The differences are in the spices and a few other small things it appears.”

“Copying me, Potter?” Draco said snidely when he realized Harry took the same ingredients.

“Looks like it,” Harry said, not sparing the other boy a glance.  “Doesn’t mean the end result will be the same.”

“You will lose,” Draco said confidently.  “I have been trained by some of the best.  Who have you learned from.”

“From books and the telly and experience,” Harry said, slicing the mushrooms finely after preparing them with the Vegetable Cleaning Charm.

“You might as well give up, you have no chance,” Draco crowed.

Harry’s eyes met his.  “I don’t see any of your food on the tables at Hogwarts,” he said plainly, without heat or boast.  Yet the statement made Draco sputter and Harry returned to his work.

“Ouch, he might need some ointment for that burning remark,” Sprout chuckled softly. 

“Do you have any with you, Severus?” Flitwick asked with bright eyes and a mischievous smile.

“Oddly enough, I do,” Snape snorted.  He sighed and shook his head.  “I tell Draco time again to mind his work and to focus on himself.  To let action and deed speak instead of his lips.”

“He’s in for a rough lesson then,” McGonagall said quietly.

Harry seared the beef tenderloin in oil, browning it on all sides after seasoning it with salt and pepper.  It crackled in the pan, filling the air with the scent of cooking beef.  He took it out once it was browned all over and applied a thin layer of mustard before letting it sit.  Taking all the sliced mushrooms, he chopped them finely and put them into a pan and cooked them until all the moisture was removed and mashed them into a paste.

He layered pieces of thinly sliced Parma ham so that they formed a sheet and put the mushroom duxelles mixture onto the ham.  The beef went on top and he wrapped the ham and mushroom layer around the beef tightly, making it as compact as possible.  He took the wrapped meat and put it into the enchanted ice box and checked the time carefully, rolling out the pastry and preparing the rest of the recipe.  Once chilled for as long as he could allow it to, the wrapped cylinder was then put on a rolled layer of pastry that he brushed with beaten egg before wrapping it as tightly as he could, pressing the seams tightly. 

The pastry encased meat was placed seam side down and onto a baking tray.  He carefully cut vents onto the surface of the pastry after brushing it with more beaten egg and placed the whole thing into the oven to bake.

Draco had done something similar.  His motions were not as sure as Harry’s, but he made up for it by using magic more.  He used his wand to flip the browning meat in the pan and set it aside.  Mushrooms were roughly diced with the wand once more and he put those in the pan to cook with some butter and shallot.  When cooked through he removed the mushrooms from the heat and waved his wand over them to cool them.

The pastry was rolled out and flattened, by hand this time, and he put the layer of mushrooms down and put the meat on top of them.  He wrapped the pastry around the meat and pressed on the seams, using his hands and frowning all the while.  Finally done, he placed it seam side down and brushed it with beaten egg and put the whole thing into the oven.

Theo looked on, clearly bored and disinterested.  Pansy watched both Harry and Draco more intently.  Having seen Harry cook, she knew he was capable but seeing him cook now was like a different level.  Whenever he cooked in the clubroom with them, he still smiled and chatted, working all the while he did.  Here he was purely focused on what he was doing, tasting things along the way, making changes and adjustments that he knew the reason for.  Even during the large Christmas dinner last year, he looked happy and at ease while cooking.  Here, he was what she imagined a professional looked like.  He wasted no movements.  He did everything surely and without hesitation.

Draco, on the other hand, was not as confident.  He still affected an expression of cool disdain, as if he was doing something he was above doing.  Yet he acted like he was following a recipe.  Only doing what he thought he needed to and no more.  He kept stopping and thinking before moving on, and while his wand motions were confident, nothing else he did was as confident.  More than once he looked across at Harry and blanched a little, seeing how fast and sure Harry was in comparison.

Terry followed the action without reservation.  He looked excited even, his eyes bouncing back and forth like a person following a tennis match.  Seamus looked mildly impressed, watching Harry cook.  Daphne’s façade had receded a little as she too watched them with interest.  Her lip curled when she watched Draco flounder at the stove a little.  Hannah’s eyes followed the two boys for a bit before she settled more on watching Harry, taking note of what he did.

“He looks like a professional,” McGonagall murmured.  “Like he has cooked like this many times.”

“He has,” Dumbledore said quietly.  “And it shows.”

“It’s very impressive,” Sprout said.

While the beef and pastry cooked in the oven, Harry stood at the stove and added minced shallots to the pan that seared the beef with butter.  When the shallots were cooked through, he added some cooking sherry and scraped the brown fond the beef left before adding beef broth.  After bringing it to a simmer, he reduced the heat and added crushed peppercorns and cream, whisking it gently over a low heat and then setting it aside.

After checking the time, Harry dashed back to the ingredients table and grabbed a few things and went back to his station.  He grated horseradish and mixed it with salt and vinegar, letting it sit for a few moments while mincing chives.  He then whisked heavy cream until it was thick and folded in crème fraiche, chives, Dijon mustard, Worcestershire sauce, salt and pepper along with the prepared horseradish.

Draco had also made a sauce primarily of more sliced mushrooms and beef stock, cooking it down over the stove.  He looked around the board for something and looked upset when he could not find any.  Grinding his teeth, he continued onwards, seasoning the reducing sauce with salt and pepper.

They both removed their trays from the oven at the same time.  Both looked golden brown, the crust crackling and crisp.  Steam left the vents they sliced in and a delicious aroma of beef and pastry.  After they rested for a few minutes, they sliced into them.  The meat was tinged red, the pastry cooked through, the mushrooms fragrant and rich. 

Draco sliced his with slashes of his wand and put the pieces on a plate.  He poured his mushroom sauce over them and stood at the ready with four plates done.  Harry sliced his with a knife, measuring each piece slightly with his fingers before slicing through.  He placed his slices on each plate and dipped up a small measure of sauce into individual boats and placed them by each plate.

“I made a Bouef en Croute,” Draco said, “with a mushroom sauce.  I was taught by the head chef at Sheen, this is his recipe that has won many rewards and he said I make it just as good as he does.”

“I made Beef Wellington,” Harry said.  “This is a pepper sauce or sauce au poivre and this is a horseradish sauce.  The horseradish is cool and creamy but has a spicy bite to it and the pepper sauce is more peppery.”

While the four judges ate, Harry made three more plates with sauces on the side.  He brought the biggest remaining piece to the professors.  “You’ll have to share,” he said apologetically. 

“I don’t think that will be a problem, thank you Harry,” Flitwick beamed.

“Hey, why are you sucking up to them?!  They only determine a winner if there is a tie!” Draco protested.

“Doesn’t mean they can’t have some either,” Harry retorted.  “I even made a plate for you and if you don’t want to eat it, you don’t have to.”  He left a plate at Draco’s station and took the last one to Pansy.

“For me?” she asked, eyes shining.

“It’s your favorite, right?” he asked. 

“Oh, yes,” she said, wondering.  “You remembered me saying that weeks ago.  Thank you.”  She dug in eagerly, eating a bite without any sauce first.  The beef was medium to medium-rare, tender and delicious with a faint hint of mustard and salt and pepper.  The mushroom duxelles paste was creamy and earthy with the layer of ham providing body and salty richness.  The pastry was cooked though and crisp, not soggy at the bottom.  The sauce au poivre was savory and peppery without overpowering.  The horseradish sauce was cool and creamy, a hint of pleasant sourness before the very spicy horseradish kicked in.  She forced herself to eat slowly, savoring every bite.

“Mmm, this is delicious,” Sprout said as she ate hers.  The professors divided the slice evenly and she had sliced hers into more pieces so she could try the sauces.

“Simply incredible,” McGonagall said, chewing blissfully.

“Whoo!  That horseradish has authority,” Flitwick smiled, breathing deep.

“Perfect for beef,” Dumbledore nodded.

Snape said nothing but his eyebrows rose in surprise as he ate.  He dipped a spoon into each sauce, examining how they coated the spoon and looked at Harry with consideration.

Terry ate eagerly, still seeming like the one enjoying himself the most at the moment.  Daphne ate with impeccable manners, slicing into each plate and taking measured bites slowly and politely.  Seamus ate with growing enthusiasm, chewing away and nodding to himself.  Hannah ate steadily, at first shyly but as she ate more, she did so with more thought and energy.

“When you are ready, push the plate forward that you deem the winner,” Dumbledore said.  Everyone watched as the judges voted.

“What?!” Draco exploded.  “There is no way I lost this much!  I demand reasoning!”

“It didn’t taste as good,” Seamus said bluntly.  “It tasted fine, not bad really, but it didn’t taste as good.”

“Yeah the meat and the pastry was pretty similar,” Terry said.  “I actually liked the chunkier mushroom thing you did compared to the paste but the meat was a little more bland and the sauce tasted good, but the two sauces Harry made tasted better.  And I like how I could add as much as I wanted of each.”

“Harry treated the pastry better,” Hannah said quietly.  “The egg wash was applied better and it was more even.  And he wrapped everything more tightly.”

“His slicing was more even,” Daphne said.  She pointed at the pieces left on Draco’s plates.  “Yours are quite uneven, not uniform.”

“The appearance should not matter as much as taste,” Draco argued.

“Well you lacked in taste as well,” Daphne said coolly with a smile.  “I was pointing out something else that you did not perform as adequately.”  She tossed her hair.  “And appearance does matter.”

“There was something else,” Seamus said, “something that made things taste different.”

“Magic,” Pansy said.  The judges, Draco, and Theo looked at her.  “Draco used magic to prepare the ingredients.  He used it to cut and move things.”

“He used magic in the beginning too!” Theo said, pointing at Harry.

“Yes but he has practiced that spell constantly, gaining proficiency.  How many times did you practice your magic and the recipe?” Pansy asked.  Draco looked away from her, jaw clenched.  She went on, her words gaining heat and bite.  “And also, you made the recipe exactly?  You did not deviate?”

“Of course not, the recipe was perfect,” Draco sniffed.  His face curdled.  “But there was not any red wine for the sauce.”

“There wasn’t any cognac for my sauce either,” Harry said, giving Draco a cold look. 

“Harry, why did you make two sauces?” she asked.

“I wanted to give options,” Harry replied.  “I’ve never cooked for them before and I don’t know what they like or what they enjoy eating, so I made different sauces for them to try and while they are both spicy, they’re spicy in different ways and one is cooler and creamier and the other is lighter.  I wanted them to like what they were eating.”

“Did you care if they liked it?  Was that something you had in mind?” Pansy asked Draco.  Once again, he did not answer her verbally, glaring at her instead.

“Harry wins, four votes to zero,” Dumbledore said.  “I trust the matter has been put to rest and the Honor Duel has been resolved?”

“Yes Sir,” Harry said, looking content.

“Yes,” Draco growled.

“Then let us consider the matter concluded,” Dumbledore said. 

Draco left with Theo on his heels, not looking at anyone and not saying a word.  The Heads and the Headmaster murmured among themselves for a few moments and after congratulations offered by all save for Snape, who did give a congratulatory nod, they left too.

“Later,” Seamus said and left with an awkward wave.  Hannah was next to leave with an equally awkward wave. 

“That tasted really good,” Terry said, shaking Harry’s hand enthusiastically.  “So you do that in Household Charms?”

“Among learning other household charms,” Harry grinned back.

“Mind if I visit and join up?  I really didn’t have an interest before but eating good food and learning different magic sounds fun to me.”

“Sure thing,” Harry said.

“Great!  See you at the next meeting and in class then.”  The tall Ravenclaw left with a jaunty wave, whistling lightly.

“That was well made and delicious,” Daphne said, giving Harry a careful look.  “I can see why you enjoy his company,” she said to Pansy.

“I enjoy it for more than just his cooking,” Pansy said sharply.

“I know, like I said, after today’s performance, I can see why.”  She smiled fully, a smile that he had not seen before.  “Thank you for the treat.  The meal and the opportunity to see Draco laid low.”  With a half bow, half curtsy, she left.

Pansy watched Harry gather his dishes for a moment before she started to help him. 

“You don’t have to,” he said.

“You’re doing it.”

“I made the mess,” he chuckled.  “Force of habit.”  They gathered the things to be cleaned and they both cleaned them with copious Scouring Charms.  “Hey, you’re getting better with those.”

“Thank you, it is rather handy,” she said.  She smiled wryly.  “Perhaps one day I will shock my parents and show them that I can clean with it.”

“Is everything going to be okay?” he asked softly.  “For you I mean, with Draco.”

“No,” she said bluntly.  “Nor do I care if they are.  He went too far and I…I don’t deserve it.”

“You really don’t,” Harry said earnestly.

“I will handle what comes,” Pansy said, her voice an odd mix of surety and uncertainty.  She sighed and looked at him, feeling shy all of a sudden.  “Thank you, for wanting to win for me too.”

“Of course.  You’re a good friend,” Harry said with utter conviction.  He smiled impishly.  “Tea tongue and all.”

Pansy laughed, a bright and free sound.  “I am glad you think so and you’re a good friend too.”  She hugged him and sighed when he hugged her back.  “That was the best Wellington I’ve ever had.”

“I’ll make it for you when you want,” Harry said.

“That sounds nice,” she smiled.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

38^th Course – Pressure

“I knew no one would beat you in cooking!”  Lavender hugged Harry tightly.

He hugged her back.  “Oh I’m sure many could, but not Draco at least.”

“Wish I could’ve watched, sounded like it was amazing,” Padma said.  “Terry was really impressed and he’s going to come to our next club meeting.”

The friends had gathered in the clubroom the next day to celebrate Harry’s win.  Harry decided to make the wellington for them again and they watched him with interest and listened to him and Pansy retelling what happened.

“Was his recipe really from the chef at Sheen?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t know, I didn’t get a chance to taste it,” Harry said.  “It looked like it could have been, and if the Malfoys are as rich and connected as you say they are,” he looked over and Millicent and Pansy and Susan and Neville nodded, “then it wouldn’t surprise me if they paid the chef a lot of money to teach Draco.”

He continued to roll out the puff pastry.  “Bouef en Croute is really nice too.  Wellingtons are more for English tastes I think, with more salt from the ham and the mustard coating.  Bouef en Croute has a lighter profile and you really do need a sauce to tie it together.  And the details are more important there with slightly less ingredients to use.”

“Hannah was impressed,” Susan said.  “I could tell she didn’t want to be though.”

“Is Harry still her nemesis?” Neville asked while Harry groaned.

“Slightly less so,” Susan smiled and the others laughed.  “More rival than nemesis, I think.  She’s still on the fence about joining the club.  But she acknowledges that you have some skills and it isn’t for another reason.”

“I’ll take that,” Harry sighed.

“I’m so jealous of you,” Parvati said to Pansy.

“Why, because I was there?” she asked, confused.

“That and you got to slap Draco in the face.  Millie said you slapped him so hard; I could read your palm by looking at his face.”

Pansy flushed while the others snorted and laughed.  “It really was an awesome slap,” Millicent praised.  “Turned his whole head around and made his cheek bright red.”

“It was a lapse in control,” Pansy muttered, her own face a little red.

“Yeah but I bet it felt real good,” Parvati said.  “Come on, admit it.”

“It did a little,” Pansy finally said, a small smile on her lips.

“There you go girl!  Be proud in your slappery.  Sounds like he deserved it anyways.”  She frowned.  “I’d do worse if he said that stuff to me.”

Pansy had told them what Draco said after some gentle prodding from Millicent.  She was not entirely proud of losing control like that and a small part of her regretted it.  It was a very small part admittedly.  She had been gratified when the others had been upset on her behalf and their support made her feel much better, knowing that they found what he said to be disgusting as well.

“I’m more worried about how his mother will react,” Pansy sighed.  “I really like Auntie Cissa.”

“And she’s the scary one of the family,” Millicent said. 

“Would she be happy knowing her son acts like that?” Hermione asked.

“Actually, no, I don’t think.  She is very big on being proper and behaving correctly,” Pansy said.

“So he gets it from his father,” Padma observed.

“Well he does bring his father into everything,” Parvati said sardonically.

“Poor Draco,” Lavender said without meaning it.  “Getting literally slapped by Pansy and figuratively slapped by Harry by losing the duel he wanted in the first place.”

“Well if you can’t stand the heat,” Harry snorted as he rolled the beef in the puff pastry.

“Use a cooling charm?” Sue asked.

“That too,” Harry laughed.  “It’s a Muggle saying, I guess.  ‘If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen’.”

“Kitchens are rather hot places,” Luna said sagely.

“True,” Harry smiled.  “I think it also means that if you can’t handle the pressure, then step out of the position.”

“’Pressure pressing down on me, pressing down on you, no man ask for.’”   Hermione sang softly.  She flushed when people turned to look at her.  “My parents love Queen and David Bowie.”

“Who?” Neville asked.

“Their musicians, a band and a singer respectively,” Padma said.

“Wow, it’s funny to me when I run into people who don’t know who Queen and David Bowie are.  Even I know who they are and I’m not that into their music,” Hermione said.  “Then again, you wouldn’t really know Muggle music.”

“Our family is huge and have always loved music,” Parvati said.  “So we know a lot of Muggle music stuff.  A good part of the family are Muggleborns and Halfbloods too so we get a bit of everything.”

“Same,” Sue said.  “Plus the traditional stuff which I bet you get too.”  Padma and Parvati nodded at that.

“What kind of music do Purebloods and the Society people like?” Hermione asked.

“A lot of classical,” Pansy said.  “We also have magical artists.  Celestina Warbeck, The Weird Sisters, The Banshee Symphony, Bonne Trollie, Hexen, though the latter ones are not as popular in Society circles.  They prefer classical music from magical composers.  Mozart and Beethoven and the like.”

“They weren’t magicals,” Hermione protested.  “They’re well-known Muggle composers.”

 “Really?” Millicent and Pansy said.

“Well, magicals do tend to take what they like and claim they were made by magicals,” Millicent said, “at least the British ones do.”

“Sounds British to me,” Harry snorted.  By then, the wellington was baking in the oven and he was making the sauces.  He stirred the sauce au poivre on the stove slowly, whisking in the cream. 

“You look less pressured now,” Pansy said.  “You were quite focused during the duel.”

“Yeah, I was trying to make sure everything was as perfect as can be in the time,” Harry said.  “It’s a different kind of cooking, a bit more stressful.”  He smiled and gently dotted Parvati’s reaching hand with his wooden spoon.  “At least I didn’t have to worry about people stealing tastes though.”

“You like it,” Parvati sniffed, rubbing her hand.  She brightened when Harry handed her a spoon with some sauce on it.

“I do,” he said.  “It’s more relaxing cooking for you lot like this.”

“Ooh, that’s tasty,” Parvati said, handing the spoon back.

“It tastes a bit more differently if I had some cognac,” Harry said.  “I need to ask the Headmaster and the kitchens about that.”

“Why can’t you have cognac?” Susan asked.

“It’s a very strong liquor and I’m underaged.  I only got away with it at the Dursleys because they had it and wanted things to taste rich and whatnot and I never dared to taste it directly.”

“You have cooking sherry here,” Luna said.

“And it’s a decent substitute but it isn’t the same.  Plus you’re not supposed to drink this stuff.”

“What, why are you looking at me?” Parvati asked.

“You usually have a story of a family member that does something they shouldn’t,” Lavender said.

“Hey, that’s rude!” Parvati gasped.

“And accurate,” Padma smiled.  “And you’re not wrong.  One of our uncles was banned from drinking regular alcohol and he thought he was being clever and drank the cooking sherry instead.”

“How’d that work out for him?” Neville asked while they laughed.

“Poorly,” Padma snorted.

“Oooh,” Luna said, clapping her hands when Harry removed the wellington from the oven.  “That looks delicious!  Also rather comfortable.  Must be nice to sleep in something so securely wrapped like that.”

After it rested and Harry finished the sauces, he sliced into it and everyone exclaimed with delight at the slightly pink beef surrounded by the rich duxelles and the golden crisp pastry.

“I watched you make this from the beginning and I still can’t believe you made it.  It looks incredible,” Hermione said.

“Luckily I don’t have to make the puff pastry, it’s really fiddly,” Harry said.  “I’m glad the Elves make it and even like making it.”  He smiled when everyone dug in.

“I’m in love with this horseradish stuff,” Parvati said.  “Creamy and spicy, love it!”

“I’m normally not a fan of mushrooms but this is pretty good,” Susan said, “probably because of all the ham and flavoring on top.”

“This has to be the best one I’ve ever had,” Millicent said, “and it’s a popular dish at Society functions.”

“That’s what I said,” Pansy smiled.

“I like making it here and there but as you see, it’s a lot of work,” Harry smiled as he ate his own piece.  “It is satisfying when it’s made well.”

“I don’t think you could make something that didn’t taste good,” Luna said stoutly.

“But don’t try either,” Padma said and they laughed together.

-0-

“Up you get Harry,” Remus said kindly, helping Harry to his feet.

Harry groaned and shivered.  “Guess this is what I get for being proud of my cooking.  I get shown that I can’t do this right.”

Remus snorted.  “Not quite the same skill set, but I suppose it is good to remain humble.”

As he promised, Remus was teaching Harry a way to combat the Dementors.  The Patronus Charm was the best way to deal with them and other dark creatures and it was something Harry had seen before.  The crackling silver torch that Remus manifested that day they encountered the Dementors for the first time, the ones cast by the professors the day of the game, all versions of the charm. 

Remus had found another boggart and they were using it to manifest into a Dementor to practice with.  So far, Harry had not been able to cast the charm, nearly passing out and falling over with each attempt.  Remus would then force the boggart-Dementor away for a few moments to give Harry a break before they would try again.

So far Harry had been unable to manifest any sort of form of the Patronus.  The malaise of the Dementor went through his attempts and he would hear his parents and Voldemort and succumb to the despair before being revived with chocolate and encouragement.

“Let’s take a break,” Remus suggested.  He sat down and handed Harry a cup of tea.  “What are you thinking about, if I may ask?  To fuel the charm?”

“I was thinking about the first time I made something at Number 4 that was well liked,” Harry said.  “For a dinner party.  I remember feeling pretty proud and happy at the moment.”

Remus smiled sadly.  “Not saying you weren’t, but you need a very strong memory.  Something that really gives you inspiration and energy to draw on to cast the spell.  It’s very challenging, as you see.  The Dementor’s malaise is an exceptionally strong magical effect and you need something of comparable magical strength to withstand it, and you will need something more to combat it properly.”

“Why is the Patronus charm so hard to cast?” Harry asked.

“It requires a lot of will and strength,” Remus said honestly.  “And honestly, while you can cast it without having to deal with the malaise or a similar effect, it’s sometimes easier to learn while under duress, hence us trying to do so against the boggart turned Dementor.  But yes, you need to have the will to combat the emotional effects of the malaise as well to draw upon the fuel for the charm, and then push it out with your magic to manifest the guardian Patronus.”

Harry thought for a moment.  “Over the summer, the Headmaster told me a lot of magic was intent but a lot of magic was emotion too.  That magic picked up on your emotions and they would have an impact on the magic.”

“That’s correct.  Observe.”  Remus flicked his wand and the tip glowed, a sterile bright white light.  “The Wand Lighting Charm obviously.  Cast with minimum effort and thought.”  He dispelled it and cast it again, and this time the light was more yellow and it looked warm.  “This is me casting it to provide a bit of comfort by thinking warmly.”  Another flick and the light was bright white and piercing.  “This is me casting it in an attempt to intimidate and to feel cold.”

“Wow.  Do all spells have an emotional part?”

“Not really and a good amount of spells, common ones anyways, are unaffected by emotions.  But as you see, some can have an emotional component that isn’t necessary for them to be cast.  But there are spells that do require the right motivation, the intent, as well as the right mindset, the emotion.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a good teacher?” Harry asked cheekily.

Remus threw his head back and laughed.  “Not recently.”  He winked at Harry.  “If you manage to cast the Patronus, I’ll feel like a good teacher.”

“So no pressure,” Harry sighed.

“None from me,” Remus said, softening.  “My apologies, I did not mean to make you feel bad.  You are trying to cast a spell that is beyond your usual capabilities right now.”

“Always did learn things the hard way,” Harry said.  He finished his tea and got up.  “Let’s have another go.”

“Alright then, on your mark.”  Remus walked to the wardrobe and waited.

Harry took a deep breath and thought hard.  He imagined his memories to be like a catalogue and he was flipping through the pages, trying to find truly positive memories, ones that he was happy.  He nodded at Remus and steeled himself when the wardrobe opened and the boggart-Dementor came gliding out.

“Expecto Patronum!” Harry incanted.  He clung to that memory as he tried to will the magic to work, to will the Patronus into existence.  His wand trembled but no light or energy came forth and he slowly buckled under the pressure of the malaise.  When Remus forced the boggart-Dmentor back, he gasped, feeling the malaise fade.

“A little better,” Remus said.  “I think we should only try once more tonight.  Don’t want to overtax you.”

“Fair enough,” Harry grunted.  He took a deep breath and straightened.  “Right, one more go.”  He closed his eyes and thought hard, looking and searching for the memory. 

The wardrobe opened once more and the boggart-Dementor came out, reaching for Harry and making that terrible hoarse rattling sound.

“Expecto Patronum!”

This time, his magic responded. 

Silver light shone from his wand and a faint misty material came out.  It formed a shield and the boggart-Dementor collided into it bodily, bouncing off as if it hit a brick wall.  The creature hissed irritably and swiped at Harry but it could not go past the shield.  Harry felt elated but drained, feeling the demands of the charm drawing on his body and magic.  As the shield began to falter, Remus was there.  The Dementor became the werewolf once more before it was sent flying back into the wardrobe, transforming into a quacking duckling as it did.

“Well done!” Remus praised.  “Incredibly well-done Harry!  You manifested a shield!  That’s the first step in making a fully corporeal Patronus.  You did magnificently.  I’m so proud of you!”

Harry smiled through his exhaustion.  “Really?”

“Being proud of you or you doing well?” 

“Both.”

“Of course both!” Remus said.

“Brilliant,” Harry said, feeling tired but happy.

“Let’s rest before I take you back to Gryffindor tower.”  Remus helped him sit and gave him more chocolate to eat.

“I hope I never get tired of chocolate,” Harry said as he munched on it, giving Remus some to share.

“A fear I share sometimes.  Chocolate is very good at combating shock and providing quick energy,” Remus chuckled.  “What did you think about this time?  Clearly it worked.”

“It was the first time I saw Hogwarts,” Harry said quietly.  “I remember crossing the Lake on the boats and seeing how big it looked, how the torches lit the windows up.  It looked beautiful, different.  I felt like I could be someone else here, someone more.”

Remus looked at Harry sadly.  “I had that same exact feeling when I came to Hogwarts.”

“You did?”

“Yes, I did.”

The silence between them was knowing and comfortable.

“May I ask you a question?” Harry asked.

“Of course.”

“Why is the boggart a werewolf for you?” Harry asked.  “Don’t get me wrong, werewolves are scary, but you’re awesome.  You know all these spells and dark things and how to fight them, I can’t imagine you not being able to handle them easily.”

Remus sat there, still as stone, for a long moment.  He looked away from Harry and Harry felt dreadful, thinking he pushed into territory that he was not welcome.

“I’m sorry Sir,” he stammered.  “You don’t have to answer that.  I was just curious and nosy.”

“No, it’s okay Harry.”  Remus sighed and looked back at him, his expression sad but resolute.  “I am not afraid of most werewolves,” he said at last.  “But of one specific one.”  He took a deep breath.  “Me.”

Harry blinked.  “You’re a werewolf?”

“Yes,” Remus said, his voice low and quiet.  “I was turned as a boy and grew up with it.”

“Oh.  Is that why you’re sick often?”

“On the full moon,” Remus said.  “And that drink you noticed me having a lot, the reason for your lovely gift last year, is the Wolfsbane potion.  When I drink it, I can keep my wits about me and not lose myself to the beast when I transform.  It is a relatively new invention, one that was not available when I was younger.”

He sighed heavily.  “It is why I traveled so much.  Not many people wish to employ a werewolf in Britain.  Around the world, there are many who do not care as much but there are still plenty who think werewolves to be lesser people.  It was easier…for me to move about.  To ply my trade all over.  The most desperate for aid are less choosy on who aids them sometimes.  I found a measure of peace that way.”

He laid down on the stone floor and looked up at the stone ceiling.  “Which is why I was not around when you were growing up, something I deeply lament.  I lost so much those last few years and it was easy for me to flee, to run away.  To wallow in my self-pity and stay in the moment while escaping the past.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through all that,” Harry said quietly.

“Me too.”  Remus looked at him.  “It wasn’t all bad, isn’t all bad now.  I have some friends now, and I’ve come to really enjoy teaching and most of all, reconnecting with you.  But I still fear the monster that lives within me, and the damage that I can cause if uncontrolled.”

“You’ve been really good to me,” Harry said.  “You talk to me, want to talk to me and want to listen.  You tell me stories about my parents and all sorts of things.  And like I said, you’re a really good teacher.  And I wouldn’t lie to you like that.”

Remus smiled.  “No, you’re not one to flatter someone without reason.  Thank you, Harry.”

“My dad knew, didn’t he?”

Remus’ smile grew.  “He did.  He figured it out first and I was so afraid of losing his friendship.  It always happened before.  Yet his response was that I was a ‘thick git’ and that I had to do worse to make him break his friendship with me.”

“He was cool, wasn’t he?” Harry smiled proudly.

“Very cool,” Remus agreed.  “And he would be so proud of you, him and Lily both.”

“I hope so,” Harry said quietly.

“I know so,” Remus said firmly.  “You are very smart, very kind.  Talented in the kitchen and with spells.  In fact, since you can actually make edible food, that would impress him to no end.”  He chuckled at Harry’s laugh.  “I have many regrets in my life Harry, but returning and reconnecting with you is not one of them, not by a long shot.”

He hesitated.  “You aren’t nervous to be around me anymore, are you?”

Harry rolled his eyes and clambered to his feet and offered his hand to Remus, hauling him up with a grunt.  “I’d repeat what my dad said but I don’t want to get in trouble,” Harry said stoutly.

Remus smiled and tousled Harry’s hair.  “Thank you, Harry.  Let’s call it a night, shall we?”  After seeing Harry off to the tower, he returned to his quarters and stopped to smile at the pictures of James and Lily.  “Your boy is a fine young man,” he said to his photographic friends.  “And he will only become more so with time.”

-0-

“He’s still not talking to you?” Lavender asked.  She and Pansy were sitting together in the library and Draco had turned the corner and saw them there.  His face had shifted through many emotions before settling on angry disdain and he turned around and left, his nose high in the air.

“No, he isn’t,” Pansy said.  She looked back down at her essay and continued to write, her handwriting suffering just a little from suppressed emotion. 

“Has it affected how the others in Slytherin treat you?”

“Not really.  He lost face as well as the duel.  There are some that don’t pay him any attention now.”  Pansy looked a little satisfied at that.  “His closest,” she paused for a moment at that, “still stay by him but they’ve always treated me poorly so no change there really.  I still am cordial with the majority of the House.  Greengrass and Davis and I were always friendly enough.  Millie is my best friend as you know.”

“And Sunny too,” Lavender smiled.

“And Sunny is my nemesis,” Pansy smiled too.  “Well, less than if I’m being honest.  Don’t tell Millie though.”

“Well you don’t deserve how he treated you so his loss,” Lavender said.

Pansy looked at her.  “You really believe that.”

“Sure I do.  You’re my friend too and even if you weren’t, no one should be treated like that.”

Pansy felt warm.  “If I was how I was before, would I deserve it?”

Lavender nibbled on her quill.  “Maybe?  You weren’t very nice.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Pansy agreed, wincing a little.

“But some things are beyond common courtesy so, maybe or maybe not.  Who you are now definitely doesn’t.”  She patted Pansy’s hand.  “I like this Pansy a lot.”

Pansy smiled a little.  “I do too,” she confessed.  “She’s better, I think.”

“She is,” Lavender said without any malice or harshness.  “You are.”  Her smile turned sly.  “I don’t mind it when you give Millie or Parv the business though, as long as it isn’t too mean.”

“Some light teasing is good to keep your wits sharp,” Pansy said, giggling a little.

“I like it when you debate Hermione, you can keep up with her.”

“Only on some things.  She’s very knowledgeable and quite opiniated.  Most Society girls are raised to be more circumspect with their opinions.”

“Well that’s just not fun,” Lavender argued.  She started giggling harder.  “Imagine Luna being told to keep her opinions to herself.”

“She’s someone I cannot debate with,” Pansy sighed.  “I either feel bad because she looks genuinely hurt or she’s so accepting of ‘alternative viewpoints’, it’s like arguing with silk.  It bends with the arguments and you get tangled up in it until you’re unsure where things began and where things end.”

“I love watching her and Hermione argue!  You can see them both get frustrated at the other,” Lavender said.

“Oh yes!  Remember the time where they argued circles around each other and ended up agreeing with the other and being upset at it?  What was it about again?”

“If ketchup should be applied on top of something or beneath it!”  The girls roared with laughter until they were silenced by an irate Pince.  They quieted down after being threatened to be thrown out of the library, giggling softly as they continued their homework.

Without pressure from anything at all.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

39^th Course – Difficulties

The clubroom was full of laughter and good smells.  They decorated it again, a riot of colors and lights that were bright and shiny.  Savory and sweet smells filled the air, whetting the appetite.  The usual group was there, joined by Ron, Ginny, and Terry.  Hedwig, Sunny, and Crookshanks were there as well, roaming the room and soaking in the attention while occasionally fighting for Harry’s affection.

Harry made the usual Christmas dinner things again but this time a few more dishes were added.  The Patils taught him how to make samosa and a gleaming tower of piled fried pastries sat on a plate, the golden-brown flaky crusts filled with potato and onions and peas.  Sue made another very large pile of dumplings and all three of their versions were there, ready to be eaten.  Most everyone had helped make one dish or another and they all smiled as they saw the heavily laden board.

“These are very good,” Pansy said, eating a samosa. 

“They’re almost like a pasty,” Ron said appreciatively.

“Oh what are those?” Parvati asked.

“A lot like this actually,” Harry said, munching on his own samosa.  “But it’s baked and not fried and can be filled with meat and veg.  There’s a kind where it’s bigger and half is filled with meat and veg and the other half with fruit so you have a meal and a sweet for after in one pastry.”

“Oh that’s fun,” Padma said.  “Yeah, it’s pretty similar for sure.”

“I love these,” Ginny said, eating the potstickers.  “They’re delicious!”

“How’s that together?” Millicent asked, watching Luna dip a water-boiled dumpling in some bread sauce.

“A bit strange but still very good,” Luna said brightly.  “It’s fun mixing things and seeing how they taste and turn out.”

“Never thought I’d have Chinese food and Indian food with an English Christmas dinner,” Terry remarked.  “But I like it.  It’s really nice.”

“Are you sure you can’t visit a little for the holiday?” Lavender asked Harry later.

He huffed.  “Yeah, that’s what the Headmaster said anyways.”

Harry had been disappointed when he went to the Headmaster along with Lavender and Parvati the other day.  The girls had asked if Harry could be allowed to visit their families over the holiday and others had also offered to let Harry come for a day or two.  Dumbledore had regretfully denied the requests, saying that the threat of Sirius Black still going uncaught would make any trips unsafe.  He did tell Harry that there would possibly be a pleasant surprise however, and that had been some small consolation.

“Boo,” Lavender grumbled.  “I don’t like that you’re alone here,”

“Well, I have Hedwig and the professors,” Harry sighed.  “And like he said, there might be a pleasant surprise.”

“Whatever that means,” Lavender said, rolling her eyes slightly.

“I’ll be okay, thank you for wanting to invite me though,” Harry said gratefully.

“Marigold and Clover were upset,” Lavender said.  She smiled.  “I think they wanted Hedwig to visit more though.”

“I’ll send her along near the beginning of break and she can play with them for as long as she wants,” Harry grinned.

“Hopefully you will get that surprise and it will be pleasant,” Pansy said.  She sighed.  “I wish I could invite you too,” she said shyly, “but I can’t.”

“Your parents wouldn’t like it?” Lavender asked.

“I honestly don’t know what their reaction would be,” Pansy said honestly.  “I have had friends stay over before, well mostly Millie, and Auntie Tina, Zabini’s mother, is a friend and she has stayed over with Zabini before but I honestly nothing him most of the time so he’s sort of just there.”  They chuckled at that.  

“No, the main reason is that I don’t know what I’m going to do for this year’s Soiree,” Pansy said softly. 

“The party at the Malfoy’s?  Oooh awkward,” Parvati said.

“At the least,” Pansy snorted.

“Would your parents stick up for you?” Harry asked.

“I…honestly have no idea.”  Pansy shrugged weakly.  “Family is important but so are appearances, not to mention my family and the Malfoys share some business things.  And Mother and Auntie Cissa are close friends.”

“I hope things work out,” Harry said sincerely.

She smiled wanly.  “I do as well.”

-0-

Alan Parkinson looked up from the newspaper.  He was the picture of a family Head.  His dark brown eyes glittered with intelligence and though he looked cold, his smile was anything but when he looked at his daughter.  “Of course, speak your mind,” he said warmly, eyes going back to the newspaper.

Pansy dithered a little, fidgeting.  “Uhm, I…”  Her voice trailed away.

That caught his attention.  He knew his daughter had a very strong personality and this bit of shyness and uncertainty made him put the paper down.  “Is something wrong?” he asked, worried.

“Maybe,” she sighed.  “I don’t think I should go to the Soiree this year.”

He sat up, no longer reclined, placing both feet flat on the floor.  “And why is that?” he asked mildly.

“Draco and I are having…difficulties right now,” Pansy said at last.

“Is that so?  What kind of difficulties, may I ask?”

“We’re not getting along,” Pansy said, somewhat evasively.  “We’ve had disagreements and we’re not as close anymore.”

“I see,” Alan said slowly.  “And these disagreements would prevent you from going?  Or are you not allowed to go?”

“He hasn’t said that,” Pansy said.  “But I don’t know if it’s right for me to be a guest at his home with them ongoing.”

“And is there any chance that the disagreements are misunderstandings that could be assuaged before the Soiree?”

Pansy shook her head.  “I don’t think so.”

Alan looked at her seriously.  “Has he done something to you?”

“Not this time.”  She panicked a little at his sharp look.  “I mean, not directly.  If anything, it’s my fault.  I slapped him.”

He was able to hide his snort.  “Were you in the wrong?”

“For slapping him, yes.  Not for why I slapped him,” Pansy said, heated.  She swallowed her ire.  What Draco said to her still needled her.  “It’s complicated,” she said finally.

“It seems like it.”  He looked at her for a long moment.  “I will not go where my family is not wholly welcomed.”

“I wouldn’t want you to miss it,” Pansy said.  “Mother and Aster love the Soiree too.  And you and Lord Malfoy are friends.”

Somewhat, he thought wryly.  “I will speak to your mother and we will see how to go forward from there.  I trust you and if you tell me that you both are at fault, then I will not force you to make amends if none are forthcoming from them.  We will see what happens when we come to it.”

“Thank you, Father,” Pansy said gratefully.  She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek.

He hugged her back fondly and kissed her forehead.  “Of course, you are my daughter.  Go fetch your mother for me, please.”  He watched her leave and picked the paper back up and looked at it without reading, thinking. 

Primrose Parkinson entered the study.  She was tall, taller than her husband, her features were sharp and hard.  Yet her eyes were warm as well and she smiled down at Alan.  “You called?”

“I did.  We have a bit of a situation,” he said.

Her smile faded, replaced by utter seriousness.  She sat on the chair beside his and folded her hands neatly.  “Very well, apprise me.”

“Pansy thinks it would be best if she did not go to the Soiree.”

“Why?” Primrose asked sharply.

“She and Draco are having ‘difficulties’,” Alan said.

She snorted.  “Are they now.  And what kind, did she elaborate?”

“They are having disagreements, she alluded that he did something to her before, which led to having more disagreements and her slapping him recently,” Alan reported.

Primrose sat back and grunted.  “Well, that is certainly something.”

“I was under the impression they were rather attached to one another.”

“They were.  That said, perhaps a year or two before she started school, the attachment was no longer as close as it once was.”

“Oh good, I thought I was being a stereotypical father and unaware of my children’s thoughts and feelings.”  He smiled when Primrose snorted.  “Though, I must confess this caught me off guard so perhaps I am like that.”

“Well I did not know the extent either,” Primrose said generously.  “While I knew they were not as close, I still assumed they still were.  I knew she was looking forward to reattaining something with him when they started Hogwarts but she has been rather private about it so I did not think to ask.”   

Her eyes narrowed.  “Has she been uninvited by Draco?”

“I do not think so and while the boy is entitled, I do not think he is that bold,” Alan said mildly. 

“What do you want to do?”

“I would like to get to the bottom of it but I will not attend if my family is not entirely welcome,” he said calmly.  “You of course are more than welcome to go without me.”

“As if I would go without my entire family too,” she sniffed, giving him a look.  She tapped a finger on her lips.  “This has Lucius’ influence, Draco’s attitude.  The boy used to be quite devoted to Pansy.”

“I thought so too, on both accounts.  What would you like to do?”

“Allow me to message Cissa.  If she says we are all still invited as guests in good standing, then we may still go, providing Pansy wishes to.  If not or if we are not invited properly, we can do something else and I will see Cissa another way.”  She looked at him.  “Can we withstand not going?”

“Lucius thinks not, I think otherwise,” Alan said.  “We are not as beholden as we once were.”

“Very good.  I will send her a message now.”  She rose to her feet.

“The girls still love me, yes?” Alan asked, looking falsely concerned.

“I have no idea, I have not asked them in some time,” Primrose said seriously though her eyes twinkled merrily.

“And do you still love me?”

“As much as I did yesterday,” she quipped.

“Ah good enough,” he chuckled and went back to reading the newspaper.  “I love you still, if you were curious.”

“Oh I knew that, but it is nice to hear you admit it out loud,” she said airily as she left the study.

-0-

Lucius blanched when the door to his study opened and Narcissa stood there looking irate.  “Yes?” he asked, hoping his calm tone would calm her down.

“Rose sent me a message stating that she is concerned about her family’s attendance to the Soiree,” Narcissa said angrily.

“What?  Why?” Lucius asked, confused.

“Because Draco is having difficulties with Pansy.  It sounds like he has been mistreating her.”

“Oh, well, can we accept that information at face value?” Lucius snorted.

“Rose would never lie to me and I will not have you saying Pansy is lying either.”

“Then you would accuse our son for the fault?” Lucius asked, eyes narrowed.

“I would,” Narcissa said.  “I love my son but I see him for who he is.  Tasset!”

A House Elf appeared before her.  He was dressed in a clean towel wrapped like a toga with the Malfoy crest on it.  “Yes Mistress?” he asked, looking up at her.

“Tell Draco to come here,” she commanded.  She looked at Lucius when Tasset disappeared.  “I want to get to the bottom of this.”

“Of course,” Lucius said. 

After a few moments Draco walked into the study.  He looked at his parents.  “Yes?” he drawled.

“What have you done to Pansy?” Narcissa asked directly.

“Nothing!” Draco exploded.  “She has betrayed me!  Ever since we started school, she has stabbed me in the back!”

“Explain,” Narcissa said, not thrown off by Draco’s outburst.

“Listen to your mother,” Lucius said when Draco looked at him.  He stifled a groan when Draco recounted all that has happened since their first year at school.  He knew that Draco was downplaying some things while exaggerating others, but even in the retelling, it was clear that the fault was not solely Pansy’s.

“And then she slapped me!” Draco finished, looking aggrieved.  “In front of everyone!  She humiliated me!”

“I want to know exactly what you said before she slapped you,” Narcissa said.  “I know she would not have done that without proper provocation.”

“It was weeks ago,” Draco muttered, face red.

“Think carefully and describe exactly.  I am not above removing the memory from your head,” Narcissa said quietly.

Fuming, Draco did as told.

“How could you say that to her?!” Narcissa nearly shouted, making Draco flinch.  “You should NEVER say that to a girl, especially a close friend!  Pansy comes from a good family and you know better than to say such things.

“And how can you treat her so coldly?” Narcissa continued.  “You two were the best of friends before.  Why have you treated her so poorly and I knew your attitude has changed towards her before you started Hogwarts.”

“I do not need a reason,” Draco sniffed.

Narcissa sighed deeply.  “The Parkinsons are a close family friend.  Primrose is my best friend from my childhood.  I will not allow them to be insulted like this.  They have done so much for me, for our family, and they deserve much.”

“You cannot force me to be nice to Pansy!” Draco said.

“Perhaps not,” she said sadly.  “I can, however, force you to be polite and to treat her as a gentleman should.  As you should.  You are past the age for childish tantrums and if you want us to treat you like an adult, then you must act as one.”

She interrupted him when he opened his mouth.  “The Parkinsons are honored guests and you will treat them as such.  Do you understand me?”

“Do not look at me for solace,” Lucius said calmly when Draco shot him a furious look.  “Your mother and I are in agreement.  Too much depends on inter-family relations and I will not let childish arguments get in the way.”

“Yes Father,” Draco said, grinding his teeth.  “Yes Mother.  Am I dismissed?”  He bowed sarcastically and stomped away when Lucius nodded.

Narcissa waited for his footsteps to fade before she turned to look at Lucius.  “I want to know what is going on here.”

“What do you mean?” he replied indignantly.

“I am no empty-headed woman nor gilded figure piece, Lucius Malfoy.”  Lucius shivered at her tone and at her look.  “I want to know what is going on.  Draco has affected an air of some sort of importance and do not think I do not know about the ‘tasks’ you have given him.  While I do not know what they are exactly, I know it has something to do with our fortunes and with the plans for the Academy.  I also know it has something to do with that…with Quirrell.  Out with it.  I have every right to know.”

Lucius looked at her for a long moment before he nodded.  With waves of his wand, the door closed securely and several privacy spells were cast.  Once done he put his wand down on the table and waited for Narcissa to do the same.  “Lord Voldemort is alive and is possessing Quirrell.”

Narcissa stared at him.  “Are you drunk?”

“I have drunk but am not drunk,” he replied.

“Then you must be addled.  Why would you believe that?  It is impossible!”

“It is not.  Voldemort knew magics that others dreamed of and was incredibly powerful.  Is powerful, if he is still alive.  Though admittedly alive may not be the most correct way to describe him.”

“How do you know it is not a trick by Quirrell?”

“Because he entered my study, through my wards, that only allow a very select few.  And he has also proven himself since, knowing things only Voldemort would know.”

Narcissa crossed her arms.  “And you allied us with him again?  Why?  We barely survived the first time you did so, why would you possibly endanger us once more?”

“For the same reason as before,” Lucius said, giving his wife a look.  “Prestige, power, and opportunity.  The plans for the Academy, all that we have done since, the swelling of our coffers, has come through this alliance.  And he is behaving in a somewhat more rational manner, for the most part.”

“Explain.”

Lucius sat in his chair.  “Before, he was eager to punish in gruesome ways.  He threw people’s lives away like candy wrappers.  This time, he is planning.  He is making goals that are more subtle.  We have been able to introduce some provisions in laws and to make plans that will cement our name and legacy forever.”

“Then what do you mean, ‘for the most part’?”

Lucius rubbed his face.  “Quirrell is still aware of the circumstances yet their…whatevers do not communicate it seems.  Not internally anyways.  So one will know but the other will not and every so often either must go through a bout of extended spell casting to bleed off magical energy.”

“Your words do not fill me with confidence.”

He snorted.  “Then how about my actions?  You have seen the projections, seen the property, seen the written laws.  You have seen our wealth grow and know of the plans for the Academy.  You even got the position you have dreamed of.  The Malfoys will become a pillar of Wizarding Britain for years to come, decades even.  Centuries!  We will have the opportunity to influence the future on a scale we never have before!”

A gleam filled Narcissa’s eye and she nodded slowly.  “If all goes well.”  She looked away for a moment and then back at him.  “This is why you had me get something from Bellatrix’s vault.”

“Yes, he asked for the object.  I know not why.”  I might have an idea, if it was like the diary.

She hummed.  “And what are these tasks that Draco is doing?  Are they yours, or his?”

“Ours,” Lucius said.  “And they are important to help enact the coming change.”

She looked at him sourly.  “You tell me that Voldemort has changed and yet, I do not see it.  Draco almost died last year!  I think he is still willing to spend lives easily enough.”

“Draco was not in any true danger,” Lucius said firmly.

“See that it remains that way,” Narcissa said.  “I expect you to fix his recent attitude.  He clearly listens to you more than he listens to me.”

“Yes dear,” Lucius said mildly.  “Is there anything else?”

Narcissa smirked at him, an expression he had not seen in a very long time and it filled him with wonder and more than a little trepidation.  “Enjoy your little jokes, Lucius.  Remember, you’re not the only Malfoy capable of making plans to ensure the safety of the name and the family.”  She picked up her wand and cancelled the wards and left his study, her footsteps loud and sure.

Lucius snorted while picking up his own wand.  Out of anyone, he knew what she was capable of and knew that she never made any idle remarks like that.  It was something he admired and loved her for, and feared more than a little.  He walked slowly down the hall and up the stairs, stopping at Draco’s door.

“Father, it is not my-“ Draco started when Lucius walked into his room.

“I do not care whose fault it originally was,” Lucius said coolly.  “I have told you time and again, Draco.  Pick your battles, fight them when you have the advantage, and keep your allies close.  You are endangering everything.”

“It’s not like I expected her to betray me!”

“Have you given her reason not to?”  Lucius sighed when Draco flushed.  “You are at fault.  You antagonized Potter from day one-“

“He refused my friendship and cares only about food!  Like a beggar!”

“And you should have kept your temper and tried again another time!  You should have appealed to his interests and ingratiated yourself!” Lucius said, raising his voice.  “But no, you continue to give him reason to dislike you, you drove away your friend, and you challenged him to a duel you were ill-equipped to win!  You lost face!  No one’s fault but your own!”

Draco gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish, shaking from humiliation and fury.

Lucius leaned in.  “Continue to act like this and your role in everything will be removed.  You will no longer be the lynchpin in our plans, no longer be at the forefront.  Do you want that?”

“No, Father,” Draco growled.

Lucius straightened.  “You have disappointed me,” he said, seeing Draco flinch.  “I expect you to behave more appropriately and give me no further cause to be so disappointed.”

“Yes, Father,” Draco whispered.  He continued to look away as the footsteps of his father faded into silence, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

40^th Course – Chills and Flamels

“Hello Professor,” Harry said, seeing Dumbledore walking into the common room.

“Hello Harry,” Dumbledore said warmly.  “How are you today?”

“Doing great.  Finished all of my homework and just relaxing.”

“Well done.”  He looked about the common room.  “Is Hedwig out?”

“She’s visiting the Browns,” Harry smiled.  “Playing with Lavender and Clover and Marigold and messing with Mr. Brown too.”

Dumbledore chuckled.  “That is kind of her and you.  I do apologize for not allowing you to leave the school for the holiday.  Under more normal times I would have liked to.”

“I understand, Sir,” Harry sighed.  He really did and that was small consolation.

“That said, remember that pleasant surprise I had for you?  Well it has come to the castle.  Come with me.”

“Oh, that sounds great.”  Harry eagerly followed after him.  “I hope you didn’t go through a lot of trouble for it.”

“I did not,” Dumbledore laughed.  “But it has brought some trouble.”  He winked at Harry’s concerned look.  “You will understand soon.”  He led the boy to his office and Harry could hear voices coming down the circular stairwell.

“I cannot feel my toes!  Dear Merlin and the Almighty, I have gotten frostbite!”

“Because you are touching my toes!  Let go!  And we were not even out on the grounds so you cannot claim you have frostbite!”

“Oh thank the powers!  Why are your toes so cold?”

“Because I did not think I needed the thick socks inside, but now I know different.  I am going to fix that right now.”

“I hope Albus does not mind your bare toes in his office.”

“As long as they are attached, I do not mind at all,” Dumbledore laughed, leading a laughing Harry as well.  Nicolas and Perenelle looked up and smiled when they saw Harry.

“Harry my boy!” Nicolas said exuberantly.  “Good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you too!” Harry smiled back.

“How do you feel about hugs?” Perenelle asked, pulling on some thick red socks.

“Oh I like them a lot,” Harry said.

“Wonderful!”  Perenelle hugged him firmly and he hugged her back shyly but warmly and did the same to Nicolas.

“Are you here for something important?” Harry asked.

“Fairly important yes,” Nicolas said.  “For you, of course.”

“For me?” Harry asked, eyes wide.

“We came to visit you and spend time for the holiday,” Perenelle said with a wide smile.  “Albus told us you generally spend time here during the holidays and so here we are to spend time with you.”

“You are?  With me?”  Harry was flabbergasted.  “Why?”

“Because we want to and we like you,” Nicolas said.  “Though I will admit that we thought you should have come to us where it is not snowing and freezing and where things are nicer and warmer and with better fashion and all that-“

“-but Albus mentioned that it would not be safe for you to travel right now,” Perenelle continued, giving Dumbledore a pawky look.  “There is not many that could threaten us.”

“Just being cautious,” Dumbledore sighed. 

“Oh yes, using Dementors is being cautious,” Perenelle sniffed. 

“Please, I genuinely hope this Sirius Black tries something while we are here,” Nicolas said with a predatory smile.  “It has been a long time since I have been able to let loose a bit and it will not be the first time that I have killed a member of the Bl-“ he coughed when Perenelle jabbed him in the side.

“I’m sorry you have to spend the holiday here,” Harry said weakly, clearly torn between delight and regret.

“Do not be, we are not,” Perenelle soothed.  “We are old and are fulfilling a stereotype that the elderly get cranky in the cold.  I actually do not mind it.  I like winter clothing.”

“Besides,” Nicolas said, rubbing his side, “we find ourselves craving your cooking and hope to bribe you to cook for us while we are here.”

“You don’t have to bribe me,” Harry smiled.

“Splendid!  Let us go and stuff ourselves with your cooking while we stuff you with things,” Nicolas said and gently started pushing Harry to the door.

“You are not going to go bother Minerva first?” Dumbledore asked, smiling.

“She can wait, my stomach cannot,” Nicolas laughed.

-0-

“Mmm, this is delightful,” Perenelle sighed happily.  She sipped more of the soup, enjoying the simple and rich taste of it.  “I can feel myself warming up.”

“Such a simple thing,” Nicolas said, looking at this bowl with a critical eye.  “Egg, chicken broth, salt, pepper, tomato, scallion, and a little cornstarch and you get this luxuriously silky soup.  Egg drop?”

“Or egg flower.  Sue taught me.  I figured you both wanted something quick but tasty to warm up.”  After whipping together the egg flower soup swiftly, Harry was now making another with some direction from Perenelle.  He had sliced several onions thinly and was now slowly caramelizing them inside a large pot.  “It’s really fast and tasty right?”

“Very much so, and very pretty,” Perenelle said, admiring a spoonful of the clear broth with flecks of pepper and long silky ribbons of cooked egg, topped with a bit of scallion.  “I could hardly believe how fast you made it.”  She slurped up the soup.  “As opposed to the lengthy and laborious process that you are doing now.”

“I don’t mind,” Harry smiled as he slowly moved the onions about, watching them slowly become dark brown and smelling sweet and rich.  “I’ve always wanted to learn how to properly make it.  I don’t have anything else to do right now and love to putter in the kitchen.”

“I prefer to putter on a green,” Nicolas said as he ate.  “Penny gets upset with me if I putt in the kitchen.”

“Which he then got upset at me when I putted in his workshop,” Perenelle sniffed.  “If you can smack balls in the kitchen then I can smack them in your workshop.”

Nicholas sighed dramatically.  “Equality is a double-edged sword, let me tell you.  Hey!”  He gasped when Perenelle took his bowl from him and poured the contents into hers.  “Thank you, Harry,” he sniffed when a grinning Harry refilled his bowl with more soup.  “At least someone cares about my well-being.”

“And who might that be?” Perenelle asked cheekily.

Harry smiled, listening to the Flamels squabble.  It was fun listening to them.  They were light-hearted about it, smiling and laughing while they traded teasing insults and faux-barbed words.  After the onions were completely soft and golden brown, he deglazed the pot with white wine that the Flamels had provided and filled the pot with beef stock.  Seasoning was added and he set it to simmer, stirring it slowly.

“Now after it has simmered for some time, you ladle it into crocks and we top them with toasted baguette rounds and Gruyere cheese and pop them in the oven to melt the cheese and let everything get combined and finished,” Perenelle said.

“Ah the hallmark of French cooking,” Nicolas snorted.  “Cook things for ages, doing the most work you can do, and then cover it all up at the end with something else.”

“What do you like to eat?” Harry asked.

“Your food of course,” Nicolas smiled.  “But in general, there is very little I will not eat.”

“It is true,” Perenelle said ominously, “I have seen him eat many many things.”

Nicolas smiled brightly.  “French cooking is very dear, as you might expect and despite my jesting.  I like simple things as much as complicated things.  But to be honest, for a while, food was fuel.  I did not really pay that much attention to flavors or whatnot.”  He shrugged.  “A consequence of living so long and having eaten many things.”

“But after your amazing tartiflette, we started looking for tasty things again,” Perenelle said.  “Trying new things, seeing what we have not had or had not had in a long time.”

“It has been fun,” Nicolas continued.  “Why we even went to try some Muggle fast food which I think is a misnomer.  It is not fast at all and this is coming from someone with an abundance of time.”

“Not very good either,” Perenelle lamented.  “It lacks something.”

“Taste,” the Flamels said together and started laughing loudly.

Harry chuckled with them and he opened the oven door when he smelled the deliciously rich scent of toasting bread, beef and onion, and melted cheese.  He took out the crocks and set them on the table, breathing deep.  “That smells wonderful!”

“They really do!” Nicolas said eagerly.  They barely waited for them to cool enough and tucked in.

“Mmmm, perfectly done,” Perenelle praised.

“It’s a great recipe,” Harry said.

“Anyone can follow a recipe but it takes skill to follow it correctly as well as making it your own,” Nicolas said.  “Humility is a virtue but in excess it is a vice.  Take pride in your skills my boy.”

“I do,” Harry said.  He shrugged.  “I actually had a cooking competition duel thing.”

“Oh, do tell.”  They ate while Harry recounted the story of the Wellington versus the en croute duel.  “Hmmph, while I am sad the en croute lost, I am also not because it was at your hand,” Nicolas said.  “Also good that you won.  An unhappy Malfoy is a good thing.”

Harry stifled a snort while Perenelle clicked her tongue at her husband.  “This Malfoy is just a boy, dear.”

“I know and he cannot help he was born into them but from Harry’s side, he sounds unpleasant which is just fitting for that family.  Bad faith indeed,” Nicolas said.  “I knew of them when they still resided in France.  They were chased out and came here rather poor in coffer and character.  After all these years, they got rich in the wrong part.”

“Why were they chased out?” Harry asked with interest.

“They backed the wrong side in a bit of a clash between magical families and it was discovered they were trying to play both sides.  So they were not too popular by the end.”  Nicolas snorted.  “They always thought they were more clever than they were.”

Eventually they were joined by Dumbledore, Flitwick, and McGonagall and they too praised Harry for the delicious French onion soup.  As they and Nicolas got into a debate over something, Perenelle watched Harry finishing a second pot of the soup.  “Making more for us?  I thought there was still some left.”

“This is for the Elves,” Harry said.  “I always make some for Inky and some others to have.  I think Wheatley is really going to like it too.  He’s the Head Farmer for the crops and he was really proud of the onions.”

“You are a very kind young man,” Perenelle smiled.  “There is not many that treat magical beings as well as you.”

“They’re really nice to me,” Harry said.  “Besides, it doesn’t cost much to be nice I don’t think.”

“For some, it is a price they would not even think to pay,” she said.  She patted him on the back.  “You are a good person, Harry.”

He blushed.  “Thank you,” he said shyly.  He hesitated for a moment.  “Did you really come to visit with me?”

“We did.  Did you think we were lying?”  She gave him a playfully severe look.

“No,” he laughed.  “But I don’t really understand why.”

“Because we like you,” she said sincerely.  “You impressed us and well, we thought you could do with a bit of attention and comradery.  We are also assisting Albus with some things but you were on the top of the list for why we came.”

“Thank you,” he said again, feeling warm.

She sighed softly, seeing his expression of happiness and wistfulness.  She hugged him again and kept her arms around his shoulders, happy when he looked happy with the contact and gesture.  “Thank you for having us,” she said.

“Harry, did you really cook blood soup for Drake?” Nicolas asked, turning around.

“I did, it’s called dinuguan,” Harry nodded.  “Well it’s more of a pork braised in blood making a stew, but yeah, pretty much.”

“Oh my,” McGonagall said.  “That sounds rather intense.”

“It tasted wonderful,” Flitwick said with Dumbledore nodding in agreement.

“He also mentioned something else,” Harry said.  “Something about you impaling something?”

“Oh no that was not completely my fault!” Nicolas said loudly.  “Besides, just because something or someone gets spitted on a bit of wood or what have you does not necessarily mean that they were impaled technically.”

“What happened-“ Harry started.

“I still think that story should be saved for a future time,” Dumbledore groaned.

“I need to have a word with Drake,” Perenelle growled.  “Filling our Harry’s head with nonsense.”

“No vow to make him pay for his libelous ways?” McGonagall asked dryly.

“No he spoke it making it slander,” Nicolas said.  “I will vow to make him pay for his slanderous ways however.”

“Trust you to distill the distinction between the two,” Flitwick laughed.

“If you are going to be correct, be annoyingly correct,” Nicolas smiled.

“Do not listen to him, Harry,” McGonagall said.

-0-

“Now, if you needed a reference, this is technically not impaling something either,” Perenelle said.

Harry looked at the rather large boar that Perenelle had stabbed with the very large hunting spear she had brought along.  It was a very long weapon, six feet in length, with a full foot of those six feet in just the leaf-shaped blade.  Cross wings beneath the spearhead fanned out on either side and the rest of the spear was heavy timber with a solid core.  The large boar had charged at Perenelle who had dodged the charge and stabbed the boar in the side and drove the spear deep and then dispatched the animal swiftly.

“Good to know,” Harry said with an awed look.

Hagrid had shot another boar with his usual crossbow, driving a very large and heavy bolt through the animal.  He reloaded it carefully and whistled appreciatively at the skewed boar.  “Is that Goblin steel?”

“Sure is.  A French clan made it for me oh, two centuries or so ago, maybe three.”  She grunted and yanked the spear out and cleaned the head with an oiled rag after rubbing it with snow.  “Nothing quite as good as Goblin steel for blades.”

“My main huntin’ knife is Goblin made,” Hagrid agreed.

When Perenelle had heard Hagrid was doing a jaunt through the Forest to deal with some boars that were tearing up some Hogsmeade gardens and that Harry was accompanying him, she tagged along.  Hagrid had been cautious at first, but when he saw her flourish her spear, he had relented easily.  When Harry asked if Perenelle always carried her boar spear around, Perenelle had said, “Well yes, it has little use sitting at home doing nothing but sitting pretty.  Besides, it is always good to go about prepared and I have never regretted not having her when I need her.”

“Her?”

“Indeed!  Her name is Aiguille.  That is French for Needle.  She helps me get my point across.”

“And into things, apparently,” Hagrid said appreciatively.

“And you, my big fellow, you should have a proper boar spear as well.  Your arm span and strength can certainly handle one.”

“Hmm, now there’s a thought,” Hagrid hummed.

The trio dragged the boars back to Hagrid’s hut and she had fallen in with butchering the boars too.  She and Hagrid got along famously, trading stories of Hunting and exploring as well as tips on what they were doing with Harry soaking up all the information eagerly.

They had a roast outdoors with several roaring fires keeping the chill away and the professors and a few guests from the village ate and laughed under the falling snow.

-0-

“Phew, look at all this,” Nicolas said with awe.  The table was laden with sandwiches and sweets and all sorts of things.  The table was set up in the corner of the kitchens and Harry was bringing things over, laying them out.  Another table was set up with cutlery and things beside it.  “And you made all of this?”

“Pretty much with Inky and Ebbers helping,” Harry said proudly.  “Or me helping them rather on some things.  Since our tea is going to have more people this year, we made a lot more and are having it here where it’s nice.”

Nicolas looked over to the other side of the kitchen where the House Elves had gathered around their own Christmas tea, chattering away happily.  “A fine place to have it,” he agreed.  “And who is this charming person?”

“This is Hedwig, she’s my owl and best friend,” Harry said, looking up at Hedwig perched on his head.  She hooted smugly and fluffed up, wiggling comfortably on Harry’s head.

“Oh good, I was about to ask if you had an owl.”  Nicholas reached into his pocket and removed a thin gold band.  He murmured a few words, tapping it with his wand before giving it to Harry.  “There.  If you ever need to send me or Perenelle a message, put this on Hedwig’s leg and she can bypass our wards and find us directly.”

“Oh thanks!”  Harry smiled and when Hedwig put out her leg, he slid it on and it shrank to fit snugly.  Hedwig admired the golden band and hooted happily.  “She loves accessories.  I’ve gotten her ribbons and bells.”

“An owl after my own heart,” Perenelle smiled.

The Flamels, Harry, McGonagall, Remus, Flitwick, Dumbledore, and Sprout sat together to enjoy the Christmas tea along with Hedwig and Fawkes.  They ate leisurely together, enjoying the occasion fully.

“Severus did not wish to join us?” Perenelle asked, eyes sparkling.

“Not really,” Dumbledore chuckled.  “Though he did say thank you for the tray you made him, Harry.  That was kind of you.”

“You made him a tray without telling me?  Opportunity lost,” Nicolas sighed.

“I told him to make it without your aid,” McGonagall said dryly.

“Ah well, still time while I am here, I suppose,” he chuckled.

“I must say, I do adore English tea,” Perenelle said as she munched on a cucumber sandwich.  “Such delightful food that’s so very adorable.”

“Truly,” Nicolas agreed.  “There is only one thing that can make this better.  Some French tea.”

“Oh, what kind of tea is that?” Harry asked, intrigued.

“One made from grapes,” Nicolas said, removing a few bottles from inside his robes.

“That’s wine,” Flitwick laughed.

“Tea, wine, same thing,” Nicolas said airily.  “Tell me Harry, do you prefer red or white?”

“Harry is underaged,” McGonagall said sharply.

“You are?  I thought you were eighteen or something similar,” Nicolas said with false surprise.  “Again, with your wiry English stature, I cannot guess your age.”

“I’m thirteen now,” Harry grinned.

“Oh then at that age, I think you would like a white.  Something crisp and slightly sweet,” Nicolas said, looking at the bottles.

“He cannot drink because he is underaged,” McGonagall repeated severely.

“Are you going to tell on him?” Nicolas asked sardonically.  “I thought I recall you saying something about the Scots letting their young grow on scotch or some such to prove how tough they are and to help inure themselves to this barren wasteland.” 

He winked at Harry, ignoring a rapidly inflating McGonagall.  “Have I ever told you about my theory that the Scottish use the word ‘loch’ so much because they are locked into living here?”

“I don’t think I’d ever feel comfortable or confident enough to mess with Professor McGonagall like that,” Harry said in an awed tone when she started lambasting Nicolas who eagerly gave as good as he got.

“They are old friends,” Perenelle chuckled.  “Because he is very old.  He loves to antagonize her because she never holds back and she feels the same really.”  She took a bite of a new sandwich.  “Mmm!  You made a sandwich with sauce gribiche?”

“We call it egg salad,” Harry said.  “It’s a sauce in France?”

“Oh yes.  It is a bit looser than this and more tart with caper.  We eat it with boiled meats.”

“Oh wow, here it’s eaten on its own.  Usually like a sandwich and you can mix it with chopped celery or pickles but I prefer to add those to the sandwich and not into the mix.  I like the texture better without.”

Perenelle continued to ask him questions and share her own thoughts as they ate happily with Nicolas and McGonagall verbally sparring and Flitwick and Dumbledore watching on with great amusement.

-0-

Harry woke slowly, feeling warm and comfortable.  It had been an incredible holiday so far, and each day had been a delight, somehow better than the last.  He yawned and patted his stomach over the covers, frowning when he did not feel a bump.  He blinked and felt the end of his glasses being poked into his cheek.  “Oh, thanks Hedwig,” he yawned, taking his glasses from her and putting them on.  He blinked again when his vision cleared, seeing Hedwig standing there looking at him.  “What’s up?”

Bonk!

He gaped at her.  “Did…did you just hit me with a pillow?!”

Hedwig nodded and flapped up again, thwapping him with the pillow she held in her talons.

He smiled.  “Did the Browns teach you about pillow fighting?”

She nodded again and thwapped him again.  She fled, hooting happily as Harry chased her around with his own pillow.  He managed a few hits before he was the one fleeing with her thwapping him repeatedly over the head with unerring accuracy, barking with glee and superiority.  It ended how these fights invariably did, with her roosting on his head in victory, hooting lovingly.

“We’re going to have to get Lavender when she gets back,” Harry smiled, bringing her down to hug her.

Hedwig hooted in agreement, eyes gleaming brightly.

-0-

“Joyeux Noel!” the Flamels said warmly.

“Happy Christmas!” Harry replied, happy in tone and expression, enjoying their embraces again.  “What’s this?” he gasped as they handed him two wrapped packages.

“Christmas presents of course,” Nicolas said.  “Surely you did not think we would not give you any?”

“I certainly wasn’t expecting it,” he said.  “I didn’t get you two anything-“

“We showed up as a surprise and your company and your cooking has been wonderful gifts to us,” Perenelle said firmly.  “We have had a very lovely holiday with you, do not think you need to give us anything.”

“You have gifted us with memories,” Nicolas said.  “And to us, those are quite precious.  It has been a while since we had such fun during the holidays.”

“I’m glad,” Harry said sincerely.

“Now!  Go on and open them,” Nicolas said excitedly.

Harry opened the first one, unwrapping it eagerly.  He smiled at the large wooden box and slowly slid the lid off.  “Oh that’s so many books!”

“Those are books by Marie-Antoine Careme and Georges Auguste Escoffier and Paul Bocuse.  They are the ones that made France into the culinary capital that it is today,” Nicolas said, delighted by Harry’s excitement.  “Careme was not a magical but Escoffier was and Bocuse’s family has both magical and mundane.  We thought you would like their books on cooking and this will help you appreciate them more.”  He opened the top of the box and there was a set of clear lenses.  “You pop those on top of your current spectacles and written French will appear to be written English.”

“Thank you so much!  I learned the charm from Professor Flitwick but this will be so nice,” Harry gushed.  He put the lenses on and they snapped onto his glasses.  He smiled when he opened one of the books and found that he could read it easily.

“I made those myself,” Nicolas preened.  “We also included a book on learning French for you too, just in case.  Some things can be lost in translation after all.”

“This is from me and a friend,” Perenelle smiled when Harry opened the second.

“Wow…” Harry breathed when he opened the slim box and pulled out a pair of gloves.  They felt like soft leather but the outer material was hard and shiny with a scaled pattern.  “A friend?”

“Those are scales from Blinky,” Perenelle explained.  “She molted and her scales were very pliable but still retained their legendary toughness and beauty.  I asked if I may use them for you and she insisted.  She likes the idea you have gloves made of her scales.  They will protect you from fairly anything in potion making and will be useful otherwise.”

“Thank you so much, for everything,” Harry said, beyond happy.  “These are incredible.  I can’t thank you enough.” 

“You do,” Nicolas said warmly.  “Think nothing of it.”

Harry packed everything away carefully.  “I can cook all day for us and make enough for you to take home tomorrow though!”

“Oh well if you are offering, we will not say no,” Perenelle laughed.

-0-

“And how is our slithery friend?” Nicolas asked.

The Flamels had left Hogwarts and returned to their home in France.  While glad to be out of the freezing weather, they felt a little subdued on returning.

“She is good,” Perenelle said.  “Happily eating the treats that Harry sent along for her.  She was very happy to hear that Harry loves the gloves.  She will let us know when she is reading to molt once more.”

“Good good.  I have always wanted such easy access to basilisk materials.  Having them from a happy basilisk is even better, and making things for Harry with some of them is no hardship.”

“I am glad we went to see him,” Perenelle said.  “He is wonderful to be around and he was so happy.  He deserves to be happy.”

“I will have to exercise a bit more the next few weeks,” Nicolas said, patting his stomach, “but I am not complaining.  I am glad we went as well.  And with all we did with Albus and what we have started with the ICW, things are on track.”

“We are going to have to spend more time with him and prepare him for the International,” Perenelle said with mock weariness. 

“And whoever they decide to join him,” Nicolas chuckled.  “Not to mention supporting him next year at the Tournament.”

“It has been a while since we have looked forward to things, has it not?” Perenelle smiled.

“Oh yes.  Things are going to be so exciting,” Nicolas smiled in return.

Chapter Text

A Taste of Magic

41^st Course – Roughly and Smoothly

“Hi Harry!”

Harry smiled when Lavender tackle-hugged him, stumbling a couple of steps but hugging her back with equal enthusiasm.  “Hi Lavender!  Welcome back.”

“Did you have a nice holiday?” she asked as she broke the embrace.

Harry nodded as he hugged the Patil sisters.  “I did actually!  You won’t believe who came to spend it with me.  Nicolas and Perenelle!”

“The Flamels came to spend the holiday with you?!” Hermione gasped as she hugged him too.  “That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, it was a lot of fun,” Harry said, thinking fondly of the recently passed holiday.  They were in the clubroom and the rest of the students were returning from the holiday break.  As people filled the tower again, Harry went to the clubroom for a bit of peace and quiet as well as baking some small hand pies for his returning friends.  Lavender had accurately guessed Harry would be there so after she and the others dropped their things off, came looking for him.

“I’m glad you had a nice holiday,” Lavender smiled.

“Thank you.  Oh by the way,” Harry gave her a look, “did you teach Hedwig about pillow fighting?”

“Me?  No, I didn’t!”

“Uh huh.  Did Marigold or Clover?”

Lavender giggled.  “Yes, they did.”

“You taught an owl how to pillow fight?” Padma laughed.

“Not just an owl,” Parvati said.  “You know what she’s like.  If any owl could learn it and like it, it’d be her.”

“Oh she likes it alright,” Harry said with a fake weary sigh. 

Lavender giggled even harder.  “She sure is cute when she’s doing it, isn’t she?”  She walked to the cabinet to get some napkins and plates.

“She sure is,” Harry smiled.

Before Lavender could open the door, the cabinet burst open and she shrieked, the shriek becoming muffled as she got hit full in the face with a pillow.  Hedwig flew around Lavender’s head, cackling with glee, and waggled her tail feathers.  Lavender ran around the clubroom yelping while Hedwig chased after her, thwapping her with the pillow she clutched in her talons.

“Not fair!” Lavender laughed, ducking.  “I’m not armed!”

“There’re pillows in the cabinet,” Harry said and laughed when Lavender managed to pull one out on her next circuit around the room, fending Hedwig off and chasing the owl around herself. 

“You two look ridiculous,” Parvati laughed.  “Wait, hold on,” she said, backing away when Hedwig and Lavender shared a look.  Parvati ran squealing when owl and girl chased after her, belaboring her with their pillows.

“Help me!” Parvati shrieked as she ran.

Padma fished out a pillow and tossed it to her.  “There, I helped!”  She shook her head as Parvati caught the pillow and fought back.  “She’s insane if she thinks I’ll fight against Hedwig.”

Hermione smiled as she watched.  “How was spending the holiday with the Flamels?”

“It was really good,” Harry said sincerely.  “They’re really nice and funny.  They also play fight and argue a lot.  With each other and the professors.”

“It must be so weird watching them banter like that,” Padma remarked.

“It was at first,” he admitted.  “But I got used to it.  It was nice.”  They watched the battling trio fight up and down the clubroom.  The door opened, revealing a sleepy looking Luna carrying a pillow of all things but when she saw the fun, she joined in at Harry and Lavender’s urging, her sleepiness evaporating.

“How did she know to bring a pillow?” Harry wondered.

“I don’t think she knew really, I think she was sleepy and brought it to nap with.”  Padma snorted when Parvati was buried under the other three attacking her simultaneously.  “But who knows with Luna.”

“Oh, Harry, may I make a suggestion for us to figure out making something for club?” Hermione asked.

“Sure, what is it?”

“My parents really got into making smoothies lately and I had a lot of them for breakfast over break and I’d love to try and keep having them here,” she said.  “Problem is, the easiest way to make them is a blender.”

“And those won’t work here,” Harry nodded.  “Is there a magical equivalent to a blender?”

“I don’t think so,” Padma said thoughtfully.  “Smoothies are liquid and yogurt and fruit mixed up right?  With ice sometimes?”

“Yeah, depending how cold you want it and what you want to mix in it,” Hermione nodded.

“That’s kinda like lassi.  We make that with spices and yogurt and fruit puree.  You can make it with a whisk but it’d be fun to find a magical way,” Padma said.

“Let’s see if there’s a random spell,” Harry smiled.  “Otherwise, it’ll be fun trying to figure it out magically.”

“What is going on here?!”  Pansy and Millicent walked in and stopped when Hedwig flew past them, chased by Parvati swinging her pillow wildly, trying to hit the cackling owl.

“The Browns taught Hedwig about pillow fights and she ambushed Lavender a bit ago,” Harry smiled.  “Parvati got drawn in and Luna joined.”

“A pillow fighting owl, will wonders never cease,” Pansy said as she watched Hedwig do a pinpoint turn in place and flew in the opposite direction, slamming her pillow right into Parvati’s face.  Incensed by Padma’s raucous laughter, Parvati flung her pillow and caught Padma fully in the face as well, causing her to join the fray.  Millicent needed no urging and armed herself and charged in.