Chapter Twenty Four – Second Rant

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

Chapter Twenty Four – Second Rant

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-==(oIo)==-

\""/

The only downside in Harry's days now, was the rapidly approaching Halloween Feast. Now that he knew it was the anniversary of the death of his parents, Halloween held no joy for him. And this year marked the tenth anniversary of their death.

The others noticed his occasional despondent attitude, and it wasn't long before Daphne pulled him aside. It was the Tuesday afternoon before the feast.

"Alright, Mister Potter," she said. "Spill. What keeps dumping you into this gloomy attitude you keep getting, of late."

With a sigh, Harry ran his fingers through his hair. "Halloween's coming up," he simply said.

"Yes, the tenth anniversary of the defeat of..." it suddenly dawned on Daphne.

Harry, seeing the look pass across his betrothed's face, hung his head.

"Oh, Merlin; Harry!" she quietly exclaimed. "How could we have been so stupid?"

Snapping his head up to look into Daphne's eyes he raised his hand and lightly cupped her cheek. "No, it's okay," he fondly said. "I know it's a day of celebration for the wizarding world. For me..." He shrugged.

"It's the anniversary of your parent's murders," she softly finished.

"It's - just a little hard to see everyone so upbeat about it," he said. "I understand, of course. But, it's not something I can feel upbeat about; you know?"

"Of course not," she replied, pulling him into a hug.

"We've all been told it's mandatory to attend the feast, as it is a feast," said Harry. "I, however, will much prefer to be abed. So, that's where I'm going to be."

Nodding, she replied, "I understand. But, if you need me, I'll be there for you. Mandatory attendance, bedamned."

Together they went for a walk along various hallways and corridors through the castle, until they returned to the Great Hall for dinner.

Knowing that Daphne had gone to talk to Harry about his gloomy mood, the others didn't say anything about it at dinner. When Harry left afterwards saying he wanted to get in a couple hours of sleep before Astronomy that night, the others just bid him a good night.

As soon as he had left the Hall, the others all looked expectantly at Daphne. She sighed and only had to remind them that Halloween was the anniversary of his parent's murders for them to realise what was going on with their unofficial leader.

"Please, don't talk to him about it, alright?" she begged. "He just wants everyone to continue as normal and pretty much said to enjoy the feast. I'm sure he'll be fine not long afterwards."

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

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On the morning of Halloween Harry was sitting with Neville in Charms while Hermione was sitting with the redheaded idiot, Ronald Weasley.

Harry was helping Neville with the incantation and the wand movement for the charm, as he'd already mastered it, and could see the boy seemed to be struggling. Harry knew he was doing everything right but it wasn't working for him.

"Here," said Harry, offering his own wand to Neville. "Try it with mine."

"But, Harry; that's not right," said Neville. "It's your wand."

"And I'm offering it," said Harry. "Please. Try."

With a sigh, Neville put his own wand on the bench and accepted Harry's. As soon as it was in his hand, his eyes widened. "Whoa," he said. "I can feel that."

While Neville was concentrating on the feel of Harry's wand in his own hand, Harry picked up Neville's. As an opposite effect, Harry could barely feel anything from the wand. It may as well have been a stick.

Looking closely at the wand Harry could see it was well worn. There were dings and nicks almost all along it's length, especially near the tip. The wand was well polished and cared for, but was clearly an old one.

Setting the wand back down, Harry said to Neville, "Settled into your hand yet? Now try the Charm."

With a flick and a swish Neville incanted, "Wingardium Leviosa!" The feather leapt off the desk straight up as if it was being shot out of a cannon. It hovered above five feet over their heads.

"I think that was a bit too much power, Neville," said Harry, as both boys were staring up at the feather.

Neville was gobsmacked. It had worked. Not only that; it had worked really well.

Professor Flitwick came over and said, "Well done, Mister Longbottom. Now, you need to back off on the amount of power you're using. Remember, it's only a feather; not a boulder."

"Professor Flitwick, Sir," said Harry. "This time, I loaned my wand to Neville and he's using that." Offering Neville's wand to the professor, he said, "And this is the wand Neville is using."

Professor Flitwick took the offered wand while Neville was letting the feather sink back to the bench top. He moved it through his fingers, peering at it closely.

As the feather finally dropped into Neville's reach, he reached out and took it, placing it back on the bench top.

"Try it again, Neville," said Harry. "This time, only allow a trickle of your magic to flow through the wand.

With another flick, swish and incantation; a lot quieter and gentler this time; the feather rose into the air and hovered about two feet off the bench top.

"That was easy," gasped Neville. "I can't do that with my wand."

"That's because this isn't your wand, Mister Longbottom," said the professor, flicking Neville's wand in the air a little. "Why are you using it?"

Looking abashed down at the bench top, Neville replied, "It's my father's. Gran - my grandmother - said I would be honouring my father by using it."

"Nonsense!" snorted the professor. "A wand has to be in tune with you as you have to be in tune with it. This wand is a very poor match for you, Mister Longbottom. You need to be fitted with one of your own."

The professor offered the wand back. Harry reached out and took it.

Looking at his own feather, he swished, flicked and incanted at it. The feather barely twitched.

"No wonder you're struggling," muttered Harry. Looking up at the professor, he asked, "Permission to contact Madam Longbottom to right this wrong, Professor."

"No," replied the professor. "I shall discuss the matter with Professor McGonagall and have her contact Madam Longbottom. It would be best if it came from a professor. There's no need for you to be involved further."

Thinking a moment, the Professor said, "And that's ten points to Ravenclaw for both care of a friend in difficulties, and for correctly identifying the problem, Mister Potter. Well done."

After the professor left to attend other students, Harry had Neville use his wand for the remainder of the class. When Neville tried to refuse, Harry merely said he'd already 'mastered' the Charm and did not need to practice it.

Hearing a noise from closer to the front of the class, Harry could see Hermione seemed to be becoming upset with her partner, Ronald Weasley. There was another student who could not seem to get it right.

Professor Flitwick moved down to see what the matter was and, after a few moments, had the boy's wand in his own hands. The professor took a closer look at the wand and clearly was not happy. He was shaking his head and frowning.

As soon as they were released from class Neville switched wands back with Harry and they left together. They dawdled a little as they were waiting for Hermione to catch them up.

From behind, they heard the Weasley boy say to someone in a clear voice, "Honestly! Mental, that one! Always such a know-it-all!"

A moment later, Harry felt someone nudge his shoulder as they ran past with their bookbag as it was held to their chest. It was Hermione.

It took only a moment for Harry to realise that she'd heard the boy make those disparaging remarks. He was of two minds. Did he run after her; or deal with the idiot.

Immediately after, he heard laughter coming from at least two young boys behind him.

It was Neville who made the decision. "I'll go after her," he quietly said. "You deal with the loud mouth." And he took off running after her.

Harry was furious. He spun on his heel and was just in the right place to grab the redhead by the front of his robes and drag him closer. At a distance of barely an inch he barked, "What the hell is your problem, Weasley?"

Trying to back away, the boy gaped at him like a fish.

"She was trying to help you, you idiot!" he yelled. "Clearly, you desperately needed it after destroying at least two feathers and making a mess of a third!"

He shoved the boy away from him and snarled, "If Mister Longbottom is unable to calm her down and help her to see you are utterly unworthy of her help; may God help you. Because, I will be coming for you!"

Harry spun around and stormed away. But, as he did so, Weasley drew his wand and started to raise it.

As his arm came up, someone else's hand shot out and pushed his arm back down again.

Stepping forward as he pushed Weasley's arm down, Michael Cornfoot, the kid who appeared to have Amerindian blood, quietly glared and said, "Don't be an even bigger idiot, Ron. If you did manage to get a spell off at him, I have no doubt he'll rip you apart. You'll be lucky to get out of the hospital before Christmas break." Then walked away.

The crowd that had gathered when all the ruckus had started, moved away now that it was over. But, it was also clear there were no other students who would side with the redhead.

Weasley was left with only his two friends, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, for company. And even they didn't look to be happy with him.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

Neville had managed to track Hermione down in the girl's toilet on the second floor. Though neither joined the others in the library, both made it for lunch.

Harry had already told the others what had happened. So, when Neville and Hermione walked up to where they were all sitting at the Hufflepuff table, the girls were quick to embrace Hermione in hugs and words of caring.

They sat her between Hannah and Tracey in a show of solidarity while they ate. During the course of the meal, she was approached by all four other Gryffindor First Year girls offering their own words of care and friendship.

On quite a few times, she had to take a small handkerchief from her pocket and wipe her eyes of tears. It was clear she was quite moved by the overt show of support she was receiving.

Harry had grabbed a book from the library and was avidly reading it while keeping a weather eye on what was going on.

As the meal finished and they were getting ready to head to their next classes - Harry had Potions with Susan and Hannah - he walked up to Hermione and said in a formal but carrying voice, "Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I, Harry James Potter, Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter, offer you the protection of my House. Do you accept?"

The rest of the group gasped suddenly at what Harry had said and asked of their muggleborn friend.

Those who heard around them from outside the group, suddenly ceased what they were doing and stared at the tableau in shock.

Hermione, knowing it was something big, looked back at Harry in a bit of shock. "I..." she stuttered. "I - don't know what that means."

Though he hadn't asked Daphne if he could do it first. She was clearly quite pleased with what Harry was set on doing.

Quickly, Tracey and Hannah began rapidly whispering to Hermione. As they did so, her eyes became as big as saucers staring at Harry, and she slightly paled.

When the girls backed away, looking at Harry quite pleased, Hermione steadied herself and said a little tremulously, "I, Hermione Jean Granger, accept the protection of House Potter, m... my Lord."

Drawing his wand, Harry carefully held out the tip so it was next to the left shoulder of the girl, and said, "Then, so mote it be!" And tapped her high on her upper arm as he did so.

There was sudden but muted flash at Hermione's shoulder and there appeared a small House Potter Crest outlined in white.

Harry resheathed his wand and said with a smile, "Welcome to the protection of House Potter, Miss Granger."

The others of the group crowded closer around. The girls clearly showing their excitement.

Neville reached across and grasped Harry's shoulder for a moment before saying, "That's a bloody clever idea, Harry."

"But, what does it all mean?" asked Hermione, softly.

"It means, Hermione," said Tracey. "That anyone who attacks you, for any reason, also attacks House Potter. Harry is now able to bring the weight of House Potter and it's allied Houses down upon anyone who stupidly does so."

"It also means," said Daphne. "That you're now considered to have all the rights associated with being a pureblood. You've just moved from being near the lowest scale of wizarding society to it's upper reaches. It's actually a very cunning move on Harry's part."

Thinking for a moment, Hermione was suddenly quite concerned. "This won't get you in trouble, will it?" she asked.

"No," replied Harry. "I've done nothing wrong. However, the bigots are probably going to be upset about it. But, there's nothing they can do without trashing their own customs and traditions. And they're not going to do that any time soon."

"Is there anything I have to do; while under your protection, I mean?" she worriedly asked.

"You have to allow me to graze my sheep on your land if I want to do so," he said. "However, as you don't personally own any land; and I don't own any sheep; I don't see that being a problem."

That elicited chuckles and giggles from the group.

"And we'd all best be getting a move on," said Daphne. "We'll be late for class if we don't hurry."

The Seven quickly left the Great Hall with Hermione often checking the House Crest was still there.

After class, Harry was surprised to see Daphne waiting for him.

"If you're having trouble sleeping tonight, Harry," she said. "Make sure you visit Madam Pomfrey and ask her for something to help."

Harry nodded and said, "I will. Thank you, Daphne."

"Do you want to come to the library and get some homework out of the way?" she asked. "Or, would you prefer to head back to your dorm now?"

"Dorm; I think," replied Harry. "I'll see you in the morning."

Daphne turned him towards herself and gently kissed him on the lips. "Try and have a good night's sleep. And I'll see you at breakfast, alright?"

Nodding, he replied, "Alright, Daphne. And, thank you."

While Harry was walking away, Daphne watched his back. It wasn't until he had turned the corner heading for the grand staircase that she sighed and headed for the library with Susan and Hannah.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

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The Headmaster looked across the four House tables from where he sat upon his new chair at the head table. With a slight frown of reminiscence he thought to himself, 'I miss my throne.'

That made him think of the Potter boy.

Looking across at the Ravenclaw table he searched the collection of First Years. Not seeing him there, he then searched further down each side of the table. After a long few moments he realised the boy wasn't sitting at that particular table.

Casting his eyes over the other tables he searched for what stood out. The blue and bronze trim out of place at another table. He wasn't sitting with Miss Greengrass or Davis at Slytherin. He wasn't sitting with Miss Bones or Abbott at Hufflepuff. And, he wasn't sitting with Mister Longbottom or Miss Granger at Gryffindor.

With a frown he turned to his deputy, Professor McGonagall, sitting at his right.

"Minerva?" he asked.

"Yes, Albus?"

"Why do I not see Mister Potter sitting among the students?" he asked. "Has he taken ill and I've not been informed?"

Professor McGonagall replied, "Not that I'm aware of, Albus," before she quickly scanned the tables herself.

"Please ask Professor Flitwick to locate him for me, will you?" he asked.

Turning to her own right, Professor McGonagall asked the diminutive professor sitting there, "Filius? It appears young Mister Potter is missing from the feast. Do you know where he is?"

Professor Flitwick, instead of verbally replying, hopped up to stand on his chair before looking out across the tables.

Once he'd carried out his own search with his eyes, he hopped back down and said, "No, I'm unaware of where the boy is. He's not in the infirmary?"

"No," replied Professor McGonagall. "Poppy's here and she wouldn't be if she had a student under her care."

With a sigh, the Charms Master called for a house elf, "Tippy!"

When the elf popped in alongside and just behind the row of seats, the Professor saw it and asked, "We seem to be missing a First Year student, Tippy. Is there one in the Ravenclaw tower?"

"Yes, Perfessor FlittyWicky," replied the elf. "One student is abed in First Year boy's dorm."

"Thank you, you may go," said the Professor. Turning his eyes towards his students, he silently counted the First Year boys. Only one was missing; Harry Potter.

"Minerva," said the Professor. "It appears young Mister Potter is in bed, asleep."

He watched as she passed the message to the Headmaster.

Carefully holding his beard out of his meal, the Headmaster leaned forward in his seat and locked eyes with the much smaller Professor. "Get him and tell him attending the feast is mandatory, Filius," the old man said, a little angrily. "I expect to see him down here within the next fifteen minutes."

The little Professor sighed and replied, "Yes, Headmaster." He was enjoying his soup. Now he'd miss the end of it. He only hoped he'd be able to return before the main meal was served.

Hopping down off his seat he quickly made his way out of the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall.

Five minutes later he was walking into the First Year boys' dorm. The curtains around one of the beds was closed. The bed he knew to be young Mister Potter's.

Walking to the side he pulled the curtains apart near the head of the bed.

"Mister Potter," he called to the boy, clearly asleep in the bed.

Harry barely twitched.

"Mister Potter!" the professor called louder.

Harry opened his eyes and looked around in confusion for a few moments. He then recognised the professor standing alongside his bed.

"Professor Flitwick?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

Sitting up suddenly, staring hard at the professor, he asked, "It's not Daphne, is it?"

"No, Mister Potter, it is not," replied the professor. "You are not at the feast. It is mandatory for everyone to attend. The Headmaster sent me to fetch you and tell you he expects you in the great hall in - five minutes."

"He naffing what?" snarled Harry.

"Mister Potter!" exclaimed the professor. "Watch your tone!"

"Tone?" asked Harry near speechless. "Tone?!"

"Mister Potter, as I said..." tried the professor, before he was cut off.

"E-nough!" snarled Harry, started to climb out of bed.

The little professor backed off to allow him room.

"I suggest you hurry back to the Great Hall, Professor," said Harry, ripping his pyjama shirt off over his head. "I will be there in five minutes."

The Professor gave a curt nod before leaving. Harry didn't see the expression on his own face. He was livid; furious.

Quickly, he dressed and hurried out of the dorms. Wand in hand he hurried via the shortcuts he'd learned down to the Entrance Hall. As he approached, he noticed the small professor hurrying in through the doors, which closed behind him.

Harry paused for a minute or two on the bottom of the stairs, thinking about what he was going to do.

"Right," he muttered. With wand in hand he gathered magic unto himself and walked towards the double door.

He raised his wand, pointed it at the doors, and called, "Depulso!"

The double doors slammed open as Harry stormed into the room. After a couple of shrieks of surprise the room went dead silent. He didn't notice it himself, but those with a trained eye could see the magic roiling off him in waves.

Harry stormed up the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

"Ah, Harry..." said the Headmaster, rising to his feet.

"Shut it, old man!" barked Harry, still storming forward. Harry's voice had deepened and was somewhat amplified. Magic was working with him at an instinctive level.

Dumbledore, collapsed back into his seat in shock.

When Harry came to a halt where the students gathered for the sorting he glared with hate and malevolence at Dumbledore.

"How dare you!" snarled Harry, his voice rising in anger and volume as he spoke. "How dare you make me be here for this! How dare you make me be here while the student body celebrates the brutal murder of my parents at the wand of that psychopath!"

"Oh, my..." said Professor McGonagall quietly, raising a shaking hand to her mouth, clearly just realising the implications of the moment.

"You utter bastard!" yelled Harry, his fury whipping his magic in swirls around him.

He stared at the old man and watched him wilt under his glare, before he spun about and stared across the student body.

"For the rest of you too stupid to recognise the impact of this feast upon me," he barked. "You are all in the process of eating and making merry about the murder of my parents; how my mum was slain right before my infant eyes; how a deranged psychotic killer with delusions of adequacy then turned his wand on me and tried to kill me! It is that you celebrate this night."

With a slighter softer tone he said, "I trust you'll forgive me if I don't join in on your merriment." And spun back to the head table.

Glaring back at the Headmaster, he said, "As for you, old man; I am at a complete loss how you could be so cruel, so mean-spirited, as to force an eleven year old boy to be tormented for hours like this.

"Then again; I really shouldn't be surprised, should I? After all, you dumped me into an abusive home for ten years! Tormenting me for another few hours really shouldn't surprise anyone of the depths of horror to which you're willing to sink, should it?

"You're a sick, evil and twisted individual, Albus Dumbledore!" he snarled. "And I have no intention of pandering to your unholy fetishes!"

Harry spun on his heel and stormed back out of the room. A room that, except for a few quiet sobs and the sound of quiet exclamations during his tirade, remained silent. His magic, though somewhat calmer, still swirled about him as he made his way out the doors.

As soon as he'd left the room, Daphne was out of her seat like a shot and running after him. Tears streaked down her cheeks.

As soon as Daphne cleared the doors the students started quietly talking to one another. Not a few glares of hate were directed at the Headmaster as he just sat there, head bowed.

Dumbledore knew he had just been royally and very publicly spanked. He also knew any inroads he had made to have Harry trust him again had been well and truly lost. He felt he just couldn't seem to do right by the boy, of late.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

Harry was able to ascend the first flight of the stairs in the Entrance Hall before he turned a corner and collapsed against a wall.

Daphne almost ran right past him, as she didn't see him at first.

His croaking cry of, "Daphne!" made her practically skid to a halt before she spun about. A quick couple of steps and she was sinking to the floor alongside him. She quickly pulled him into her embrace making sure his head was resting on her shoulder.

Together, they sat there for a few moments; neither speaking. Daphne only making cooing noises of comfort and gently rocking him as Harry sat there feeling physically, emotionally and magically drained, sobbing quietly.

After a few minutes, the heat Daphne felt in Harry's skin dissipated as he calmed down.

"Sorry, Daphne," he muttered. "I lost my temper again."

"I think anyone would have lost their temper in your place, Harry," she replied. "I also didn't realise just how powerful you are, magically, until I saw you in full fury in there."

Sitting up straighter, he asked, "What do you mean?"

With a smile she said, "Your magic was coming off you in waves, Harry. It was palpable. It swirled around you like a wind. Even your eyes glowed a little."

Shocked and surprised, he asked, "That's what it looks like?"

"It was quite a feat, and not a little scary," she replied. "I think you're going to find a lot of students are going to start giving you a wide berth, again."

"Oh, great," he groaned, dropping his head to his chest. "That's just what I need."

"I happen to approve, Mister Potter," she said.

"Oh?" he asked, confused, bringing his head back up again.

Nodding, she said, "When you did that, it said to the whole student body, 'Harry Potter is not someone to mess with'. And that also means not messing with Harry Potter's friends - or his betrothed."

With a snort, he said, "Well, at least there's going to be an upside to this."

Hesitantly, she asked, "Will you teach me how to do that?"

"What; make your magic flare?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "It makes you look mighty powerful. I'm hoping it'll do the same for me."

With a shrug he said, "I - guess. It was something I started doing while I was in hospital at the beginning of September. I started doing it because I was bored and it made me tired enough to sleep."

"Well, I think I can go without dinner if you're willing to show me," she said.

Thinking a bit, he replied, "How about we go down to the kitchens first. That way, we can beg the elves for something to eat in private, and we can see about making a start on teaching you how to flare your magic."

"An excellent plan, Mister Potter," she warmly replied.

Harry smiled and climbed to his feet. Then he offered her a hand up.

Together, they walked back downstairs and down into the first level of the dungeons on their way to the kitchens. They made sure they weren't seen by anyone in the Great Hall as they ducked around the corner in the Entrance Hall.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

While sitting in the kitchen at the small bench Harry had placed the picnic basket upon a few weeks previously, they enjoyed their repast of roast beef sandwiches washed down with pumpkin juice.

Harry finished after Daphne, who had sat there patiently waiting after her single sandwich.

When he finished, he pushed his plate away, wiped his hands against each other, turned to her and asked, "Alright. Are you sure this is something you want to learn?"

With a wide smile, she replied with a few quick nods of her head and a quiet but excited, "Yes!"

He said, "Alright. I want you to drop into your first level of meditation. The start of when you go into your mind to work on your Occlumency."

He waited until she calmed right down with her eyes closed and he could see her whole being relax.

"When you cast with your wand, you feel your magic inside you. You then push with your magic out your wand to cast," he said. "Can you feel your magic now?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Good," he said. "Now I want you to take a long slow deep breath and feel it filling you up."

She did

"Now slowly let it back out."

She did.

"Good. That is how you draw air into your body," he explained. "Now I want you to feel with your magic, and - breathe - it in. Draw it into your body."

He watched as she, at first, frowned a little, before she took a long deep breath. At the same time he could feel her magical energy also strengthen.

"Excellent!" he said. "You can do this now. You just did it. Do it again."

Again, she took a deep breath; and again her magic built up.

"You're doing really well," he said. "This time I want you to draw your magic in without also taking a deep breath."

Again, she pulled that little frowning moue expression for a few moments before Harry felt her relax. Moments later, he could easily feel the magic emanating off her very being. It was making the hairs along his arms and down his back stand on end.

"Now draw the magic into your innermost self and allow it to - spill over - Allow it to overflow you."

This time Harry felt her entire being becoming flushed with magic.

"Keep that up, and open your eyes," he instructed.

Her eyes slowly opened and his met the most electrifying blue eyes he'd ever seen. As she had said his were, her eyes were practically glowing in return.

Her eyes widened, staring right back at him. She said, "Everything. All the colours are so - vibrant!"

Nodding, he said, "Keep your eyes open and draw the magic in again. Let it over flow."

Harry felt her aura flare back up. The plates and cutlery they'd just been using were lightly vibrating on the surface of the table at which they sat.

"Very good," he said. "Now let it settle back down. Allow the magic to ease back out of you."

He watched as her aura faded away and the crockery and cutlery stopped vibrating. Her eyes also lost their soft glow and they return to their normal blue.

He watched as the magic finally ebbed away and she gave a soft, sagging sigh.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"That's - exhausting," she replied.

"Yeah, you'll sleep well, tonight; I assume," he said.

"I only did that for a few moments," she said. "You did it for a lot longer than that, this evening. You must be much more exhausted."

With a little shrug, he said, "I've also been practicing it a lot."

"What led you to start learning to do that?" she asked.

"Reading that Magical Theory book by Adalbert Waffling," he replied. "It speaks about how you expend magic when you cast. It also said you need to wait for your magic to - refill - else you risk collapse from magical exhaustion."

Nodding, she said, "I remember that part."

Continuing he said, "I then thought to myself: if you can expend magical energy by choice, why can't you also pull it into yourself using the same principles; instead of waiting for your magic to refill on it's own."

Thoughtfully, she said, "That means you can draw magic from the ambient magic about us when you need it. You don't have to wait for it."

"Yes," he said. "However, I've also found that, at the moment, it's quite exhausting to do. I'm hoping that, as we get older and with more practice, it's something we can do all the time; when we want to."

"Magic is like a muscle; it needs to be exercised," she mused.

"Precisely," he replied with a smile. If expelling magic is like a muscle, why can't drawing magic in be the same, just in reverse?"

She nodded back in understanding. "Then I shall just have to practice, won't I?" she said with a grin.

As it was getting late, Harry escorted her down into the dungeons to the entrance to the Slytherin common room before using the secret passage to quickly get up to the seventh floor.

From there it was a quick trip to the Ravenclaw tower. He hadn't realised how late it was getting as his housemates had already returned. Most of them were already in bed and asleep, or quickly approaching that point.

The few older years in the common room only glanced up at him as he entered. No one said a word that he was actually arriving back in the common room after curfew.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/