The Power Within

Whether she meant for the gift or the compliment, she didn't say. She was very happy as she got into a carriage and began reading. Harry had walked outside with her, but was strangely without any of his belongings. Hermione didn't notice or comment.

She never did find him on the Hogwarts Express, though that could be because she was busy reading her new, and very different, book.

Hogwarts wasn't quite the place she believed it to be. Nor the recent editors of Hogwarts: A History. So much history had been stripped from the book over the ages.

Harry put aside his plate of breakfast. He was eating well and feeling happy even if he had to hide at Hogwarts for the summer.

The best part, aside from its lack of Dursleys, was its overabundance of Ministry gossips and investigators, who were only slightly less chatty than the regular kind of gossips.

Harry had pieced together much since he had his invisibility cloak and knew the hallways well. He listened to the pompous people from the Ministry. While Professor Flamel said that Quirrel had been possessed, Harry only now understood what that meant from listening to these conversation, then looking the terms up.

The first edition Trimble book did have a decent, if short, section on possession. While Harry hadn't looked past ghosts or poltergeists before, possession was different and well covered.

Every time Harry thought he knew about this world, someone showed him there was another mystery he needed to examine. Wraiths... Possession... What witch or wizard had delved deep enough to make these things real?

Harry pulled his cloak over his head and wandered out into the corridors. He was still under his cloak when he walked past the area where he'd been attacked. He could have gone a different route, but he liked to see this spot. A reminder. A warning.

It was usually good for overhearing things as a few Ministry-types still visited.

From what Harry had overheard, the lightning that had killed Quirrel had done significant damage to the spirit that possessed him, but it had not destroyed the spirit.

No one said the name He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who, but that was who they meant. Even if they couldn't admit it or say it to their superiors or write it on a sheet of parchment. Everyone knew, but no one Knew. Cravens.

Harry had memorized faces even if he hadn't learned their names. It was better to know now. Someone had tried to make him dead before he was two. He'd tried again to make Harry dead at eleven. For luck and a little bit of skill, Harry was still walking around, though a lot less innocent now.

A lot more desperate and focused, as well.

Harry had no idea why the Killing Curse had twice failed to do as it promised. So he was working on his spells, just like the Trimble book had instructed. His cutter, Diviso performed with a corkscrew aimed at the target, was able to cut through the meat on the plates of food brought by the elves. So it wasn't close to combat-effective, but he kept working on it.

His Sunfire and Water Globe were useful, which was why he was headed outside to practice them – maybe after a visit to Hogsmeade.

He was still wary of Fulmenifer. He dared not use it outside around any moistness, which was a problem considering there was a lake in front of Hogwarts. Harry had been 'lucky' to be attacked inside the castle a month earlier.

Had he tried the Lightning-Bearer outside, both he and 'Quirrel' might have wound up crisped. The Water Globe which he had used first had created water on the floor, true, but it had been far enough from Harry not to damage him when he sent the lightning.

Harry walked softly down the stairs to the main floor. He had purchased a hat he could wear when he ventured into Hogsmeade on some afternoons. There were plenty of children who lived there with their families. Harry didn't look odd at all when he bought a new shirt or stocked up on some potions ingredients or bars of chocolate.

He wasn't going any further than Hogsmeade today. He had learned about flooing and had made it to Diagon Alley a few times. The used book stores were marvels, but Harry had to be careful about what he acquired. He had no home to store things. (He also learned about the Knight Bus and vowed never to use it again if he had half a choice.)

He got outside and it was a beautiful day. He kept his cloak on until he was very close to Hogsmeade. Then he traded out the cloak for his hat. He didn't have a scar to hide any more, but his messy hair was almost as much a signature. Long, short, it didn't much matter. It always looked messy.

.....

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