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Harry Potter and the Hermetic Arts by HaikenEdge

Books » Harry Potter Rated: M, English, Humor & Adventure, Harry P., Hermione G., Neville L., Fay D., Words: 121k+, Favs: 3k+, Follows: 3k+, Published: Mar 10, 2019 Updated: Dec 25, 2019 1,218Chapter 17: Harry's Got Game

Harry Potter and the Hermetic Arts

Chapter 17: Harry's Got Game

Checking his ice chests as he prepared breakfast Saturday morning, Harry had noted his reserve of fresh, uncured meats was starting to dwindle; if he did not restock his supply soon, he would be down to only canned meats and a few dry-cured hams before October was gone, and he was not the type of person to wait until the problem was upon him before he addressed it.

So now, he was at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, while the other students were having breakfast in the Great Hall. True, there had been a warning about the Forbidden Forest being just that, but given what he had been told about Hogwarts being the greatest magical school in the world, only to experience first-hand a Potions professor with no inclination to actually teach, a History professor who was completely oblivious to the going-ons in their classroom, a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who couldn't string together two coherent thoughts about the subject he was meant to be teaching, and a Flying instructor who had made no attempts to ensure his safety when his broom had taken off out of control, Harry was not exactly going to believe what the Hogwarts staff said on just the basis of their word.

Besides, if he found himself in any danger, he had his rod, the switchblade Jason had given him, and, if all else failed, a small arsenal of battle magic he could rely on.

Thus, Harry went into the Forbidden Forest in search of food sources, and he was not disappointed in what he found. Though he did not go deep into the woodland, staying within sight of the Forest's edge at all times, Harry had found both deer and rabbit plentiful during the two hours he spent in the thicket, along with all manners of vegetation, some he recognized but most of which he did not. Only then did he realize he had no idea what was actually edible amongst the flora he could not identify by sight, and so, he retrieved a Polaroid camera and began taking pictures, cataloging what he saw. At the end of the two hours, he had a stack of photographs and a realization he would need to learn how to butcher game.

Returning to his dormitory room, Harry went into his private library in his bag and sought out the sections on botany, 580 in the Dewey Decimal System, and fishing and hunting, 799, pulling the books from the shelves before taking them back to his desk, where he browsed them, trying to cross-reference the photos with entries in the books. Once he was through the photographs, it was onto the books on hunting and the butchery of game.

He finished making notes just around time for lunch, and he went back into his supplies to making himself a hearty meal; in the comfort and safety of his haversack, Harry felt secure enough to use his own magic, which worked wonders for both cooking and cleaning.

After his meal, he made his way into the Hufflepuff common room; he was probably already standing out enough by never being in the Great Hall during breakfast, lunch or dinner, and the last thing he wanted was for people to think he was an isolated loner, even if he was one.

Scanning the common room for a victim, Harry's eyes settled on moon-faced brunette who had turned away as soon as he had caught her staring; with more confidence than he really felt, he sauntered over to where she sat by a sofa by the wall.

"Hey," he said, as charming a smile as he could manage pasted on his face. "I'm Harry Potter."

The girl swallowed nervously as she looked up at the raven-haired boys standing over her, his emerald green eyes seeming to pierce her soul. "I know," she giggled.

"I didn't quite catch your name on the first night, when we were introduced," the boy said, smile still on his lips as he extended a hand.

"I'm Megan Jones," she said, swallowing again as she extended her hand in kind, and Harry took it in his, leaning over to kiss the air above the back of it, eyes watching as blood rapidly rushed to her cheeks.

"May I join you?" asked the boy, and once the moon-faced girl nodded and scooted over on the sofa to make room, he plopped himself down into the space she had made. "Are you busy?"

"No, I was just daydreaming," the girl admitted, flushing again.

"You want to play something, then?" Harry asked.

"Like what?"

"Battleship?"

"I love Battleship," gushed the girl, and Harry smiled again, reaching into his haversack to pull out the freshly-unwrapped box that contained the game he had mentioned. Opening the box, he passed one of the plastic cases to the girl, who took it with a smile and opened it like she had done it a dozen times before; as she set up the pieces on her board, Harry did the same, his eyes never quite leaving her face as he tried to read her expression.

It took them a few moments to complete the preparation for the game; then, as the girl looked up to meet his eyes, Harry said, "Ladies first."

"Oh, okay," the girl said, brushing with a lock of hair back behind her ear. "Uh… H-8?"

"Miss. F-5."

"Miss. C-4."

"Hit. D-3."

~ooOoo~

Though he did not win the game, Harry came out ahead nonetheless; by the time his game with the brunette concluded, a crowd had gathered around the pair, watching them play, students from normal families explaining the rules of the game to those unfamiliar with it.

"Good game," said Harry, extending a hand, and the moon-faced girl shook it. Looking up, he started as though it was the first he had noticed the gathered crowd. "Wasn't expecting an audience. You all want to play something?"

"Battleship's for two players," protested a voice in the crowd of Hufflepuffs.

"True," Harry said, "but I also have Cluedo and Pictionary."

Murmurs rippled through the Hufflepuffs as those who knew had to explain to those who didn't know what those games were. Even as they talked, Harry retrieved the two additional games from his haversack, placing them out on the coffee table by the sofa where he was sitting.

"Cluedo can have up to six players," Harry said. "Pictionary works best with four teams of two, but can take a couple more teams, and Battleship's for two." Then, noticing there were more than sixteen people gathered around, he pulled the deck of cards he kept out of his pocket and added, "For everybody else who doesn't want to just observe, I've got a pack of cards, and we can blackjack or poker."

The Hufflepuffs quickly began to divide themselves into groups over which games they wanted to play or try, and Harry found himself with a group of a half-dozen mostly older students, though the girl he had played Battleship with was among their numbers.

"All right, let's play blackjack," said Harry, as he shuffled the cards. "Rules are simple: try to get as close to twenty-one as possible without going over. Number cards are their value, face cards are worth ten, and aces are worth one or eleven, your choice. Everybody starts with two cards; me, being the dealer, will have one card facing up; on your turn, you can choose to take a card or not to take a card. Once everybody has either gone over twenty-one or decided they've gotten as close as they comfortably can, the dealer turns the face-down card over, and if the amount is less than seventeen, the dealer will have to take cards until they have seventeen or more. Players win if they get closer to twenty-one than the dealer, or if the dealer goes over twenty-one.

"Any questions?"

~ooOoo~

When the Hufflepuffs finally broke from their games, it was just before dinner. From the chatter, Harry surmised they had mostly enjoyed the experience; several older students even suggested their friends in other houses might enjoy playing, and Harry had agreed, suggesting they bring their friends the following day to an abandoned classroom with a number he'd post on the inside of the Hufflepuff common room's door right before lunch time. Some of the Hufflepuffs had suggested the Great Hall, but Harry had shot down the idea; he knew, at some point, the card games would end in gambling, and he did not want the staff of Hogwarts catching wind of that until as late as possible.

After cooking and eating a meal in his haversack, Harry had found the least clean abandoned classroom to develop his own magic in; having spent the better part of the week experimenting with alter self, he decided to spend the evening practicing his battle magic and had chose the insect-infested classroom specifically for the reason, as some of his combat-oriented spells required targets to use.

Without any material components at his disposal, Harry's battle magic was restricted to Agannazar's scorcher, burning hands, magic missile, shield, and shocking grasp; he had decided early in his self-training not to become completely focused on one type of magic, and using necromancy had made him feel physically unwell, so his knowledge of combat spells were limited to elemental magic and illusions, and his experiences with nearly burning down Bourne's Comics and Games had left him wary of using too many spells with an area of effect.

Besides, he liked to think he was clever enough to find ways to use his non-combat spells for battle when a fight inevitably rolled along.

But for now, the bugs would make for adequate targets for the magic he would be practicing.

Putting in his earbuds, with LL Cool J's Mama Said Knock You Out album in his Discman, Harry got to work. It never failed to get him in the mood for something aggressive.

~ooOoo~

Harry returned to the Forbidden Forest on Sunday morning with a plan of attack, but quickly discovered the plan to just attack didn't quite work. He had been prepared to hunt with magic, but ultimately, hunting with magic was a tragically bad idea; any magic he knew required incantations to cast, and doing so inevitably aroused the suspicions of the prey he hunted, sending them scurrying away as soon as he began chanting, leaving him with nothing more than a sense of failure.

His solution to that had been creating metal spears from the earth and trying to throw them at his prey, but that quickly proved useless as he simply lacked the skill to hit a target with a thrown projectile of the sort.

Nonetheless, the day had not been for naught; while he caught no game, he had managed to forage some wild plants and fungi, including some peppers he could not identify and a number of edible ferns and greens. Taking them back to his room, he strung them up to dry.

Roger was nowhere to be seen, but on Harry's bed as a package addressed to "Harry Potter" in a feminine hand; on top of it was a letter, attached by Scotch tape, and he carefully opened it with his knife to read the contents.

Though the letter had been signed "Elizabeth Granger", Harry would recognize Karen's handwriting anywhere, and he hurriedly opened the box, revealing two large bags of dried plant buds, far more than he had expected Jason to send him, along with a small packet of seeds, an instructional manual on how to grow them and a pad of rolling paper. The letter had mentioned one hundred grams, but the bags were far larger than he had expected.

Carefully, Harry opened one of the bags, scooping out a handful of buds into a smaller Ziploc, before resealing both. Cautiously, he placed to two larger bags, along with the seeds and the manual, in his haversack, then pocketed the Ziploc, not knowing when he would be seeing the chubby, anxiety-ridden boy again.

But first, lunch.

~ooOoo~

He had not expected the turnout.

When the older Hufflepuff students had mentioned their friends from other houses might be interested in joining in on the fun, Harry had thought only a smattering of students would show, but the abandoned classroom he had chosen, large as it was, still had enough students in yellow and black, blue and bronze, and red and gold to feel cozy. The complete absence of green and silver uniforms told him Slytherins had either deigned themselves above games, or just didn't have friends outside their own house.

With the numbers present, Harry had to bring out all of his board games and chose to rely on students from normal families with knowledge of how to play the games to teach those who wanted to learn them, while he once again set up a game of blackjack for the rest of those who wanted to play something but did not have a board game available for them, or were waiting for a spot in one of the games to open up. Besides, dealing blackjack gave him a chance to practice his false shuffling and false dealing, though he had made it clear that, while he was the dealer, there would be no betting on the game, implying that those who played without him could very well gamble amongst themselves.

After a couple hours, some of the players made known their desire to play for money, and Harry handed over the deck of card and the dealer responsibility to an older Ravenclaw, giving him an opportunity to walk amongst the gather students and observe those playing and those watching the games in play.

It was during his walkthrough that he found himself being pulled aside by a pretty Asian girl in the blue and bronze of Ravenclaw, her brow furrowed in irritation as she pressed him against a wall, her forearm shoved into his collar bones.

"Potter, do you have a problem with me?" she asked.

"Pardon me?" Harry asked, confused.

"Why did you send Ron Weasley after me?"

"Fuckin' who?"

"Ron Weasley."

"No, I mean, what does he look like? I don't really learn people's names 'less they're friends."

"He's not your friend?"

"Who?"

"Ginger? Dumb look on his face?"

"Him? I think that's A.D.D., but right annoying, ain't he?"

"Yes! Why did you send him after me? What's your problem with me?"

"Come again?"

"Weasley's been pestering me to teach him xiangqi! Even after I told him I don't know how!"

"Well, shit, sorry 'bout that," Harry said, feeling somewhat remorseful; he had not intended to inflict the red-haired irritant on somebody else. "Didn't even know you existed."

"Wait, it wasn't personal?" asked the girl, confused, and Harry felt some of the pressure leave his chest.

"God no," said Harry. "I wouldn't inflict that bakebrain on my worst enemy."

"Then why has he been saying you want me to teach him xiangqi?"

"That? I was trying to get rid of him! He was talking about chess, so I told him I'd play him if he learned xiangqi."

"And, naturally, he'd come to me and ask."

"Who are you, anyways?"

The girl finally released Harry, and he straightened his hoodie. "Cho Chang," she said, and the two shook hands.

"Harry Potter," said the black-haired boy.

"I know who you are," said the girl.

"So, are you Korean, Chinese, Japanese, or are they who had you really racist?" Harry asked.

"What?" demanded the girl, shoving the boy back against the wall, suddenly very angry.

"'Chang' is a Korean surname, but the only Korean given names that I'm familiar with that includes a 'Cho' fragment are 'Cho-a', 'Chohui', 'Cho-rong' and 'Chorong'," Harry said; he had done the research years ago when he was making one of his first Shadowrun characters. "However, 'Chang' could be a corruption of the Cantonese surname 'Cheung' yet isn't a Mandarin surname, but 'Cho' is not a Cantonese given name, while 'Cho' is a Japanese given name meaning 'butterfly', but 'Chang' is not a Japanese surname."

"How do you know all this?" asked the girl.

"Research, long, long time ago, for a game I was playing," Harry said with a shrug.

The girl sighed. "My name is Zhang Qiu, but everybody kept butchering it, so I gave up."

"Nǐ shuō zhōngwén ma?" asked Harry, slipping into Mandarin Chinese with one of the few phrases he had learned from Karen when she had been learning the language for an audition.

The girl blinked in surprise, releasing her hold on him. "Yī diǎndiǎn. Nǐ ne?"

"Suì suì," Harry said, slipping into Cantonese, something Jason had answered in when Karen had practiced with him; when the girl's eyes betrayed her lack of understanding, he added, in English, "That was Cantonese for 'a little bit'."

"So, Weasley's been bugging me to teach him xiangqi," said the girl again. "I've told him I don't know how, but he won't listen."

"You could suggest I teach him, since I told him I'd play him," said Harry.

The girl blinked. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"He was probably annoying you to bits, Ms. Zhang."

"But what are you going to do when he asks you to teach him?"

"I'll lie," Harry said, cracking a smile. "He calls it, what, 'Shankey'?"

"Yeah, he calls it that."

"First, I'll tell him I told him I'd play him in janggi, Korean chess," Harry said. "Then, if he comes back and asks me to teach him, I'd ask if he wants the person who is going to play him to teach him and possibly hold him back."

"How are you a Hufflepuff?"

"How am I not?"

"Hufflepuffs are supposed to be hard-working and loyal. Slytherins are cunning."

"What, you think I didn't put in work to come up with these contingencies?"

"Huh?"

"And if the bakebrain asks you to teach him janggi, tell him you're Chinese, not Korean, and then call him a racist."

"What?"

"That'll set him on his back foot, which should you give you enough time to make all kinds of accusations at him and make him leave you alone for good."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Potter, you're in the wrong house."

Harry shrugged.

~ooOoo~

By the time the dinner rolled around, the sentiment in the abandoned classroom was fairly clear: the Hogwarts students enjoyed it, as Harry had expected, and all agreed it should be something that happened every week, on Saturday and Sunday. Against the popular opinion, Harry could only visibly protest, but inside, he patted himself on the back.

True, he might only really have a friend in Hermione, but if people looked or asked, he could point to these soon-to-be weekly meetings as proof that he wasn't isolating himself, even if proximity did not equate to affection in truth. He could be like Gatsby, the host of great parties who seemed like he was surrounded by friends, even when, in truth, he was the loneliest man in the world waiting for his one true love.

Harry was willing to put money on the conspiracy against him having never read that book.

Author's Note: Harry Potter, ignoring rules, building his cover and establishing contacts.

Being of Chinese heritage, Cho Chang's name has always bothered me; it was as though Rowling took a couple Chinese-sounding syllables and smashed them together. She might as well as called her "Ching Chong Chinaman" with her disrespected towards the entire culture.

As a former GM, I made a conscious decision to have Harry decide to not GM for a bunch of youths, hence why he chose board and card games instead. GMing for children and teenagers, particularly the entitled bunch who would have attended Hogwarts, is always a pain the ass.

Review, PM, etc. You've got your ideas, I've got mine, and I'm not going to change chapters I've already written and are just waiting to upload simply to suit your desires, but aside from that, hey, let's talk. What's the worst that can happen, I ignore you, you think I'm an idiot?

Usual credits to Shinshikaizer (treatment) and goalie12345 (editing).

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