Chapter 22: A not so happy Christmas

Harry had read somewhere that rituals are addictive and hence dark in nature. In so far, he could confirm the first part but not the latter. Oh, he was surely becoming addicted to the surge of Old Magic surging through his veins whenever he performed the ritual of Red Dawn.

In his opinion, it'd be a disservice to call himself an addict when there were better examples. One of the best examples would be Barbara Collins, a sixth year Slytherin who had chosen to strike up a friendship of sorts after his first day of engaging in the ritual. While he was not prejudiced against the entire Slytherin House he had a healthy sense of paranoia when someone starts to show a sudden urge to befriend him from the snake pit.

Tracey and Daphne, he could understand somewhat. Daphne holds some ulterior motives and he was not blind to the girl's attempts at trying to befriend him. Tracey on the other hand he could trust far more easily as she held no visible ulterior motives. With Tracey being a Halfblood and all there was hardly going to be any specific points she need to score with the Pureblood fanatics in her House by befriending him.

However, Barbara Collins set him on edge especially when the witch was breathing down his neck whenever he performed the ritual. Sadly she was not the only one. She was the worst case of Old Magic addict but there were others like Emily Frost from Seventh Year Ravenclaw, Adam Winters from Sixth Year Ravenclaw and Hasan Ali from Seventh Year Slytherin.

It was the third time he was engaged in the ritual of Red Dawn. Ever since the first day, he was asked to perform at the last slot and he could see the urgency in the eyes of the four addicts waiting impatiently for his turn.

"Collins looks like she is about to jump you, Harry." Tracey muttered playfully from his side.

"Am I the only one who is weirded out by those four?" he asked, keeping an eye on the almost eager gazes the four addicts were throwing in his direction.

"I have never heard this ritual could become addictive in any way. Only rituals involving blood sacrifice are deemed Dark by the Ministry."

He heard Daphne comment from Tracey's side. A comment that he didn't necessarily agree with as the Ministry does prohibit other rituals that do not involve blood sacrifice. He has been reading upon Ministry regulations on the area ever since he began planning the aura stabilizing ritual in order to advance his Occlumency skills. It was in the Ministry's interest to keep wizards and witches less powerful.

Harry could understand the reasoning behind the Ministry's actions. Wizards like Dumbledore and Voldemort have the power to make the Ministry irrelevant. For a bureaucratic organization like the Ministry of Magic, a powerful wizard or a witch is an existential threat. After all, why should any wizard or witch bow to weaker members of their kind? This was why the Ministry always tried to keep the number of powerful wizards to very few. They classified certain disciplines of Magic to be Dark in nature and illegal to weed out those who aimed to increase their magical power.

And somewhere along the way, someone will inevitably slip their grasp. If they do, they will be cajoled to join the Ministry. The perfect example of this case would be Dumbledore. Those who do not want to join the Ministry and conform to the rules and regulations end up opposing the Ministry. These witches and wizards get the label of Dark Wizards or Dark Witches. And the most exceptionally powerful among them end up being called the Dark Lord. Some are assigned this label while some adopt it. Voldemort fell into the latter category as he chose to adopt the title of Dark Lord.

So the Ministry's definition of Dark and Light magic always had a political agenda. The true defining line, in Harry's eyes, lay in intent more than anything else. Sometimes, even intent tends not to be enough in judging the nature of Magic.

"Everyone, time's up. Touch your wands to the runic circle." said Professor Babbling.

The Ancient Runes professor had chosen their ritual venue in the Greenhouse for some odd reason. Harry was not exactly sure why this particular venue but he was all for it. The previous one was near the Black Lake and that was not fun at all. The constant piling up of sleet and howling winds were quite a distraction. Even now, snow was piling up outside the glass panes of the Greenhouse.

The ritual started in earnest as the first light of the rising sun began to usher in warmth consequently lighting up the runes scribed on the floor. Professor Babbling was the first to start the ritual followed by other students until finally, it was Harry's turn.

" Rise, Lord of all life!

Rise, Lord of vitality!

Bless our souls and body oh impartial father.

Cleanse us of the Dark and let the Light be reborn! "

Just like the last two times, the magical energy surge was phenomenal. This time rather than enjoying the surging power within his body he was rather keeping an eye on the eager looks from Barbara Collins.

"Mr Potter stay behind. All others, leave." ordered Professor Babbling.

Harry could hear the disappointing groans from the four addicts. As the rest of the students took their leave it was just him and Professor Babbling inside the Greenhouse.

"How are your studies going? Is Miss Davis being helpful?" asked Professor Babbling, as she began flicking her wand here and there dismissing runes with a flick of her wrist.

"Oh, Tracey has been very accommodating Professor."

"You are satisfied with Miss Davis as your tutor?"

"Yes Professor." Harry admitted.

He would have opted to change to Hermione but Tracey was quite fun to be around and she did sort of go out of her way to help him. It'd be rude to disparage Tracey's honest efforts in the last few weeks.

"That's good to hear." Professor Babbling mumbled.

Harry eyed his Ancient Runes Professor and her casual way of dismissing runes from the floor. That was an interesting skill but he thought to ask about that another time.

"Professor, do you mind if I ask something related to the ritual?" he inquired.

"The library holds many books about the Ritual of Red Dawn nonetheless ask away Mr Potter." said Professor Babbling, pausing her work to give him her attention.

"Why is it Barbara Collins and the other three are addicted to my magic?"

"They are not." Professor Babbling answered him crisply.

"What?" he was a bit taken back by Professor Babbling's answer. "But, they were showing signs of addiction…"

"No, they weren't Potter. At least, they weren't showing addiction to your magic. They are addicted to the cleansing nature of the ritual. Your gift of Parseltongue just happens to pull Old Magic into the ritual in great quantities. Even if you were to stop using the Parseltongue those four would have shown addiction."

"But why?" he was flummoxed by the explanation. "Is this ritual Dark in nature?"

"Not at all. The ritual we perform invokes the resurgence of Light within our body. Those who carry the stain of Dark Magic however will experience addictive symptoms. The Dark devours the Light as it is in its nature to do so."

Harry remained confused by this strange explanation. How could the Dark devour the Light? The whole purpose of the ritual is to cleanse the Dark, was it not?

"Yes, the ritual is meant to cleanse the Dark Mr Potter. But understand the very nature of Dark Magic. It seeks to subvert anything and everything. Even the Light is no exemption to the predilections of the Dark. That is why the cleansing ritual lasts for seven days. If it was so simple one single ritual would have sufficed." said Professor Babbling.

"Oh! That makes sense I suppose." He mumbled before looking at the Professor curiously. "Professor, if you know they have used the Dark Magic shouldn't they be warned…or done something?"

"What they do in the confines of the privacy of their homes is not mine or anyone's business. They do have the freedom to perform any type of magic behind closed doors of privacy. So long as they are not performing them in public nor are they using it to harm others or themselves then I don't see any problem."

Perhaps his disagreement with her opinion must have shown on his face cause Professor Babbling decided to elaborate.

"An educator's job is to give as many tools and options to a student. If I decide to fix a set of values as ideal and pour it down the throat of my students, that's not education. As students, you must have the freedom to choose your own paths. Else rather than being educated you'd be indoctrinated."

In a strange sort of way, it made some sense. Anyhow, he'd be keeping an eye on those four. But he won't be spreading any rumours about those four in Hogwarts. It'd be rather hypocritical of him to do so when he was already researching dark rituals and spells in his free time.

XXXXXXX

Harry returned to the Gryffindor tower after his scheduled class with Professor Vector. As the Yule holidays were yet to conclude he was still getting special classes from Professor Vector and by the end of the week he was going to face a test in Arithmancy. This test would determine his continued presence in Arithmancy class. As such, he has been terribly busy preparing for the exam leaving him almost no time for other activities.

This is why he had not even deigned to pay a visit to Hagrid who had unwittingly become the subject of Rita Skeeter's scathing articles. Somehow Skeeter managed to get ahold of Hagrid's life history and she outed him as a half-giant. She went into great detail describing Hagrid's obsession with dangerous magical animals and even the circumstances behind his expulsion. Of course, all of this was highlighted to take several potshots at Dumbledore himself questioning his judgment.

Objectively speaking, Skeeter does have a point in questioning Dumbledore's decision to hire Hagrid as a Professor of Hogwarts. While Hagrid was indeed an exemplary handler when it comes to magical creatures that do not mean he is a Professor material. Hagrid's idea of teaching is to throw every interesting dangerous creature known to wizardkind at the students hoping everyone would like them. This was not exactly a method of teaching and Hagrid was nowhere near enough trained or qualified to hold the post of a Professor in any school.

So, even though he was empathetic to Hagrid's current predicament he thought Skeeter was not in the wrong to paint a bleak picture of Dumbledore's hiring process. There was a long line of incompetent or outright hostile buffoons occupying and had occupied teaching positions in Hogwarts because of Dumbledore. The names like Binns, Snape, Lockhart and Quirrell came to mind.

Even so, he planned to find some time late in the evening and have an in-person talk with Hagrid. Hagrid's shoddy teaching skills notwithstanding the man was easily likeable and sort of deserved some leeway. After all, Hagrid was one of the earliest victims of Voldemort's rise to power. Plus the man was orphaned from a young age. If Headmaster Armando Dippet had investigated the death of Myrtle much more keenly Hagrid would not have had to become the Gamekeeper of Hogwarts and live on Dumbledore's charity.

To that end, he decided to enlist Hermione's aid.

He found Hermione in the company of Neville. She was helping their chubby friend with the Charms homework. Setting his backpack nearby on the couch he dropped down into the cushy comfort of the couch in the common room.

Hermione and Neville acknowledged him with a nod before quickly returning to their activity. Harry eyed his two friends thinking of the latest quarrel that seem to have emerged. As usual, the culprit was Ron Weasley.

Apparently, Ron had blown off a gasket when Hermione showed up with Krum as his date. It didn't help Ron was unable to find a date willing to go with him. In the end, the annoying red-head had even tried to pressure Ginny to go with him which she flatly refused. This had led to a quarrel breaking out between Ron and Neville as Neville had asked Ginny out to the Ball.

One thing led to another and Ron got schooled by the Twins with a choice number of prank spells on Ginny's request. With all that happened and being humiliated beyond the norm, Ron took all of his frustrations out on Hermione accusing her of unwittingly working for the 'enemy'.

According to Ron Weasley's new findings, Krum was only interested in Hermione so that he could spy on Harry's preparation for the Second Task. Obviously, this accusation didn't sit well with Hermione who had a big fight with Ron right in the middle of the common room. The end result was, Hermione cut off all forms of communication with Ron. She was of the opinion that Ron would've to apologize first before rekindling their friendship.

By the simple virtue of attending special classes with Professor Vector, Harry ended up being insulated from all the drama transpiring between his friends. In a way, Professor Vector saved him from some needless teenage angst and drama.

"Hey, Harry. How was the class today?" asked Hermione, just finishing the Charms homework.

"Exhausting. She had me doing Venetian transposition equations all day long. My head is spinning with all those equations and conditional alpha derivatives." said Harry rubbing his forehead.

"Ha! I remember those. There is this bit of trick to remember the transposition equations, Harry." Hermione began excitedly reciting an assortment of acronyms she used for remembering certain equations.

Though initially surprised at Hermione's exemplary memory he was quick to take notes. Two more days and he would be having a test and he doesn't intend to fail that by any means.

XXXXXXXXX

Petunia didn't know whether to cry or use the opportunity to curse her ever so perfect sister. Everything that went wrong in her life could be laid at the feet of her sister. Lily was always the beautiful one and had the smarts as well. Her parents had doted on Lily far more than her and she knew her parents were quite proud of her freaky little sister.

Yet, for all she could find faults in her parents she blamed the freaks and their magic for ruining her perfect family. If Lily hadn't shown signs of magic then Petunia was sure she would have gotten along well with her younger sister. Magic was the accursed thing that tore her family apart. It took her sweet sister away and made her into a freak. It had even bamboozled her normal Godfearing parents!

She had hated anything to do with magic ever since Lily went to that freakish school. To this day, that hatred had never simmered down. If anything she only felt more hatred seeing as she got saddled with her freakish sister's freakish son. She knew the boy had magic when those good for nothing freaks left the boy outside her doorstep. But, it was her hope that the boy would not be a freak like her sister. Alas, that was not to be!

Unlike her parents, she was prepared to raise her son alongside a freak like her nephew. This was the reason why she ushered her little Dudders with unconditional love. Cause she feared her Dudders might end up like her feeling less adequate because of lack of magic. So, when her freakish nephew got the Hogwarts letter her Dudders was not left feeling inadequate. She had done what her parents had refused to do for her.

But now, looking at the angry red boils all over her son's face she couldn't help but curse her sister and her freakish nephew. She knew this was somehow the freak's fault. Her precious Dudders had fallen ill after eating a bar of chocolate on Christmas morning. At first, there was nothing wrong with her son but after eating a few chocolates her son's face began to turn into a giant inflated balloon. Then he began coughing up salt water all over the floor.

Till Christmas noon her son continued to be sick. Then all of a sudden everything stopped before her son's face began to get covered with angry red boils. She had cried and complained at the suffering of her poor Dudders which had made Vernon rampage all over the house claiming to bash the freak's head when he returned from that blasted school full of freaks.

Casting one last tearful look at her sleeping Dudders she carefully extracted herself from the room. Closing the door behind her she traced her steps to the dinner table where Vernon was sitting with a sizeable cake on his plate.

"Is he asleep?" asked Vernon, once she sat on a chair.

"For now. My poor Dudders! He was crying all day long." Petunia choked back a sob that threatened to escape her throat.

"Those sleeping pills worked then. That's good." said Vernon, sighing in relief.

"We couldn't even bring him to a doctor. Oh, how much pain my poor Dudders must have felt." cried Petunia, rubbing away the wetness from her eyes.

"We couldn't have brought him to a doctor, Pet." said Vernon, taking her hand in his. "How would we explain his sickness? We can't say he ate a candy made in the freak's world. We would be laughed out of the hospital."

"It's all that freak's fault. I'm sure those red-head freaks are behind this. They want to ruin our normal Christmas." said Petunia.

"That ungrateful freak will rue the day he was born after I'm done with him this summer." Vernon growled, before jabbing his spoon into the cake and scooping out a significant slice before stuffing it into his mouth.

"It's a lovely cake Pet. Shame Dudley didn't get to taste this one. Although, you should not have put strawberry in the cake." said Vernon, gorging himself more of the cake.

"Strawberry? I didn't put any strawberry on the cake." said Petunia frowning.

All of a sudden Vernon paused. Petunia didn't miss the way her husband's whole demeanour changed. One moment Vernon was enjoying the cake and the next he was stiff as a board.

"Vernon? What's happened? Vernon!" she shook her husband but her husband refused to answer.

Vernon's eyes darted all around in panic. He suddenly jumped out of his chair. The unintended consequence being he flipped the dining table because of his stomach's wide girth. Vernon began convulsing while Petunia fretted around in the dining room in panic.

Vernon continued to convulse unimpeded. As seconds ticked by his convulsing got worse. His limbs were all over the place and he began spinning with his whale-like girth. His meaty paw even smacked Petunia right across her cheek making her see stars.

Then all of a sudden Vernon stopped thrashing around.

Petunia looked at her husband as she picked herself up from the floor. A thin trail of blood dripped down from the corner of her mouth.

"Vernon! What are you doing?" she cried out but her husband remained comically silent.

Vernon remained standing in a strange pose. He had his legs apart wide imitating a sitting posture while standing on his legs. His eyes were crossed over.

Petunia slowly made herself move towards her husband afraid he would hit her again.

All of a sudden Vernon opened his mouth as if to scream but no sound came.

"Vernon?" she hesitantly called out her husband.

Vernon let out a grunt and then he screamed. "Aaaaaaaarghhhhh!"

But, the screaming was accompanied by a thin trail of flames from his backdoor. Seeing this Petunia screamed and she rushed into the kitchen to collect water to douse the flame.

She threw a bucket full of water on Vernon's fiery ass. Thankfully, the flames stopped pouring out and she could see smoke rising out of Vernon's pants. With a loud thud, her husband fell over on the floor.

For a moment, Petunia stood there holding the bucket while staring gobsmacked at the angry red asscheeks of her husband. She felt her limbs go numb and the bucket fell from her arms. The clatter made by the bucket echoed around the house almost unnaturally. She collapsed on her knees letting out a soft wail of despair.

A tap on her shoulder made Petunia freeze. She fearfully turned around only to see a hideous freaky creature that had large green tennis ball eyes standing behind her.

"Master Harry says Happy Christmas." said the creature in a squeaky voice before snapping its fingers.

It was then Petunia saw the frying pan floating in the air. She barely got the time to blink as the frying pan registered in her mind before pain flared on her head. It was a brief flare of pain before she descended into Morpheus' realm.