Chapter 2: A Slytherin Welcome

As the hat was lifted off his head, Harry observed the room, seeing a stunned silence. Many of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs shot him betrayed looks, while the Ravenclaws gave him scrutinous glances, as though trying to solve a particularly complex puzzle.

It was the reactions of the Slytherins, however, that proved most interesting. Most seemed stunned by the revelation, though a sizable minority scowled and grimaced in anger, no doubt displeased by his presence.

Glancing back, most of the staff seemed in shock. Dumbledore's half moon spectacles had fallen slightly, now perilously dangling off his nose. McGonagall's jaw had dropped. Only the professor in the turban reacted with relative calm, a contemplative look on his face. He was the first to clap, and reluctant applause soon followed as Harry walked to the Slytherin table. Several of the other first years shifted away as he approached, causing him to divert and take a seat at the end alone.

The sorting continued, though Harry paid little attention until it was Amelie's turn. Giving her an encouraging smile, one she shakily responded, the witch stepped up to the stool, sitting down and allowing the hat to be lowered onto her head.

For several moments, there was silence. He could feel the unease of the girl, but was helpless to do much but watch. The whispers around grew, until he finally heard the hat shout, "SLYTHERIN!"

With a wide smile, he waved at her as she gracefully walked over, taking a seat across him. "Thank Merlin, the hat wanted to put me in Hufflepuff of all places. Said it was apparently good for me to make friends."

Harry gave an amused snort. "You'd be surprised, I asked for Hufflepuff, but the hat rejected it. Said I was basically to evil for them."

"I can see that," Amelie laughed, a sound Harry found he rather liked. "I'm glad we're in the same house."

"As am I," Harry agreed warmly. The two sat in comfortable silence, until Blaise Zabini was sorted into Slytherin. The headmaster stood up, walking towards the podium.

"Welcome back to another year of Hogwarts! To our first years, a warm welcome to these hallowed halls. Hogwarts as an institution has always been about community, on developing friendships that will last long after you depart these halls. The greatest strength, you will find, is in unity and cooperation, something you would do well to remember even in the face of such competitions as the house cup and quidditch cup.

Before I continue, allow me to introduce our head boy and head girl this year. Leanne Antiva of Ravenclaw and Morvin Mentivix of Gryffindor. The two stepped up, dutifully standing to the side of the headmaster as the students applauded. As Harry's gaze met Leanne's, he waved, a smile on his face, though she quickly turned away without responding to the gesture. Fighting the pang of anger and grief that threatened to rise, he kept an impassive face, waiting as the headmaster raised a hand for silence.

"Yes. Should you have any issues during your time at Hogwarts, please do not hesitate to contact your house's prefects, who will be introduced to you in due course. Your head of house will sort out any issues that require a higher authority. They are to be respected as their position demands, something that our new students, and some older students, would do well to remember. You will have the weekend to explore the castle before classes start on Monday. Now, unless I am mistaken, that is everything that must be covered for now. Let the feast begin."

With a wave of his hands, food appeared on the tables, causing Harry to turn and look in awe. Large plates of mashed potatoes and roast meats doused in gravy dotted the tables, with smaller plates of vegetables on the side. Harry quickly helped himself to a slice of roast beef and a serving of potatoes, while Amelie had decided to take a cut of lamb.

The food proved delicious, and Harry enjoyed tasting the various dishes. He frowned as the blonde haired boy from the train earlier stalked up to him. "You didn't tell me you are Harry Potter!"

"Nor did I say I wasn't," Harry responded dryly. "You asked whether I had seen him, and I haven't looked in a mirror for a while."

"W-that's not the point! But it's fine, I'll forgive this. You'll learn that there are some families better than others. People like Rosier here are worse than mudbloods. I can help you in that regard," the blonde assured silkily, striking his hand out. Harry raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"You lack the manners to even introduce yourself, and you expect me to believe you are capable of navigating politics?" Harry challenged. The blonde's cheeks darkened and his lips curled into a sneer.

"Do you not know who my father is? Lucius Malfoy! Advisor to the Minister of Magic!"

"So he's not even the minister?" Harry snorted. Draco gaped for a moment before his jaw snapped shut.

"My father will hear about this," he snarled, storming off. Harry gave a bemused snort.

"You probably shouldn't have done that," Amelie proffered uneasily. Harry turned to her, a curious raised eyebrow. "Malfoy, bastard that he is, is not without influence. He can make your life in Hogwarts difficult."

"And tell me, how is his father going to stop me if I push him off a staircase?" Harry challenged, causing Amelie to blink. "Perhaps if I decide to enter the political arena Malfoy may enjoy success against me, but there are many avenues of attack to any individual. Fight where you are strong and where they are weak, not the opposite."

"Still…he's…oh that's not good," she muttered, scowling at the sight of Malfoy talking with some fourth and fifth years. As he realised he was being watched, Malfoy turned, a smirk on his face as he ran a finger across his neck.

"Don't worry too much. They won't kill us…and what doesn't kill us makes us stronger," Harry shrugged. "Besides, I'm not without my tricks."

"I hope you're right," she muttered. As the feast wrapped up, they were dismissed to their common rooms, following their fifth year prefects.

Harry heard the voices, eagerly anticipating attacking him. As soon as they stepped in, Harry tackled Amelie to the ground as several spells were fired in their direction.

Whipping out his wand, Harry closed his eyes and cast an overpowered lumos, causing several pained screams. Grabbing Amelie, he tried to make it back outside, nut was unable to deflect several curses, which tore through his weak shield and hurled him against the wall, causing a crack to echo in the dungeons.

As he staggered uneasily, trying to maintain consciousness, Harry was roughly shoved to the floor by the female prefect, ropes quickly binding him. Several boots kicked him, causing him to wince, though he refused to give them the satisfaction of hearing his pain. He heard the rest of the house being ushered away.

"Leave him alone!" Amelie shouted, and the sounds of several spells being fired caused his heart to skip a beat.

"Bitch!" a female voice spoke out, and he grimaced at the whimpers Amelie gave as she was cursed and beaten for several moments. Suddenly, a rough hand hauled him by the hair, hoisting him up as several older students surrounded him. "You don't belong here, Potter! Filth, just like Rosier."

"Says the troll that can't even face their enemy honourably," Harry spat in the boy's face. Scowling as he wiped the spit off his face, the boy punched Harry in the stomach thrice before walking back.

"Do not speak to your betters like that…or you won't like the consequences," he sneered. "But let's see what you can do, boy."

Dispelling the ropes, he fired several curses. Harry threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding them. The boy, in his shock, did not move for several moments, allowing Harry to leap forward and yank out a dagger, leaping into the air and knocking both of them to the floor. The boy instinctively struggled with Harry's hand, and several spells were fired by the others. However, both were hit, and the friendly fire discouraged the rest. As the two stilled for a moment, Harry being pinned down and the blade slowly being pressed down to his temple, he threw his weight, rolling them over. At the same moment, the boy let out a cry, being struck by a jet of light on the arm. As they struggled in the new position, Harry saw a cutting curse had struck the boy's right arm, making his grip weaker than normal and allowing Harry to slowly push the blade towards his eyes.

With wide, trembling eyes, the boy struggled in vain as Harry slowly pushed the blade into his eye, millimeter by millimeter penetrating through with a slow squelch. Relishing in the boy's scream of pain, he yanked out the blade and prepared to attack again.

"Potter that's enough!" a voice shouted, and he turned, bloodlust in his eyes as he turned to see roughly a dozen wands pointed at him. Quickly, he positioned his knife on the boy's neck.

"Wands down…or he dies!" Harry yelled. The Slytherins eyed each other uneasily, and Harry pressed the blade slightly, drawing blood.

"What," an angry voice hissed, "is going on?"

Harry slowly turned, to see a furious professor Snape stalking inside, cape billowing behind him, wand in his hand. He pressed the blade firmly against his hostage's neck, not ruling out another attack. "Potter, release Jugson at once!"

"Not until they are disarmed," Harry refused curtly, causing the professor's eyes to widen briefly before they narrowed. Turning to the other Slytherins, he gave the instruction, and reluctantly, they set their wands on the floor. Slowly, Harry relinquished his grip on his assailant, who by now was unconscious.

"Now, Potter, explain what in Merlin's name happened."

"Pro-" Snape glared at the female Slytherin who spoke up, instantly silencing her. Turning back to Harry, he gave a nod to continue.

"The moment I arrived in the common room, I was cursed from behind and bound in ropes. The Slytherins you see here assaulted me, and when Amelie tried to defend me, they assaulted her as well. I was merely defending myself and Amelie."

"I see…" he scowled, turning to the Slytherins, who held mutinous glances. "Three month's detention each for attempting to assault another student with such…cowardly means. Now get out of my sight."

The Slytherins quickly filed out of the room, muttering angrily to each other. After the final one had left, Snape turned to Harry. "The hazing is a normal ritual, one that should have been endured with silence. You've painted a target on your back."

"On the contrary, professor. Now the rest of the house will know that I'm not a weak target to be trifled with."

"And the fact that several of the most talented individuals in the house will be out for blood?"

"They hate me either way. But now they will be wary."

"You made a grave mistake, mister Potter, even if you're too much of a dunderhead to see it."

"You're right," Harry spoke simply, causing the professor to blink in surprise. "I did make a mistake, I should have gone straight for the neck rather than the eyes. That would have been a more lasting impression."

"You believe you could survive several older students, let alone kill them?" Snape's nostrils flared. "Are you insane?"

"A light push on the stairs, a bit of poison in their food…accidents happen, professor," Harry shrugged. "They lack the will to kill."

"And you don't?" Snape derided, before stilling at Harry's impassive face.

"We'll see, won't we?" Harry shrugged. "Now perhaps the hospital wing? I believe Amelie suffered some nasty kicks, and I'm not in great shape myself."

--Break--

Blinking as he opened his eyes, Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight of Amelie seated on a chair by his bedside, having no doubt dozed off. Reaching out, he brushed a few strands of hair from her eyes, the motion causing her to snap to attention.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, a worried frown on her face. "How are you feeling?"

"Decently well," he shrugged. "There's barely any bruising, so I'm rather thankful for that. Yourself?"

"Decently well," she shrugged in turn. "I didn't get hurt as bad as you. What happened? I saw Jugson's…"

"As I told you," Harry chuckled darkly, "a few tricks up my sleeve."

"That was…wow," she breathed. He felt a slight amount of trepidation from her, though it was vastly overshadowed by awe. He felt a tingle at the amazement she stared at him with, though he couldn't quite put a finger on what emotion it was. It was not an unpleasant feeling.

"You didn't have to wait for me, you know?" Harry mused. "I-

"Are you insane? I wasn't about to leave you alone! Especially when you're unconscious and they're out for blood," she spat angrily, before taking several breaths. "Harry…you were injured quite badly, internal bleeding in your lungs. It…"

"Wait…" Harry narrowed his eyes, "what time is it?"

"Sunday night," she winced, allowing him several moments to take in that information.

"I appreciate it," he smiled after a while, causing her to give a hum of confusion. "For…everything. For staying with me…for trying to step in."

"Little good that did," she muttered, drawing a frown from him.

"You were outnumbered and outclassed, don't be too hard on yourself. I saw you get a few good curses on them," Harry consoled. "Besides, if we can do so much already…imagine us in a few years."

"Is that a proposal I hear?" she teased, frowning at his serious look. "You're…you're actually-"

"I felt the click with you since we first began to talk…but after you didn't run away…I want to be by your side, as an ally, as a friend and if fate permits, perhaps something more," Harry admitted. He couldn't pretend that the hesitation in her countenance didn't hurt, but swallowed it, knowing this was likely not easy for Amelie either.

"It's…not that simple," she sighed. "My family…they're probably not going to be happy with what I'm doing. I'm supposed to court the dark faction, my father is doing so behind the scenes. Associating with you…don't get me wrong, I'd love nothing more than to do so…but it won't be easy."

"Nothing that's worth it ever is," Harry mused, taking her hand and squeezing gently. She smiled unconsciously at the gesture, even as her eyes were clouded in thought. A few moments later, Amelie shook herself out of her stupor, blushing at the realisation he was staring at her with amusement. "Want to get out of here?"

"Sure," she agreed quickly. Hand in hand, they quickly departed the hospital wing, heading back towards the dungeons. They passed by several groups of students, who eyed the duo warily, pointing, staring and whispering. Both ignored these easily, making their way down to the dungeons and entering the common room.

Silence greeted them, as several glared murderously while others watched with wanderconcealed fear. Malfoy, in particular, was far less smug than before. Ignoring this, Harry briefly parted ways with Amelie, heading up to the boys' dormitories, where he found his trunk battered and bruised, though the lock was thankfully intact. Scowling at the realisation his housemates had tried to break into his things, Harry began plotting his revenge even as he quickly entered the showers, cleaning himself and changing into a fresh set of robes.

As soon as he was done, he quickly returned to the common room, meeting the gaze of those around him challengingly as he waited for Amelie. She appeared after a few minutes, looking much better for wear. Boldly, he offered his hand, which she accepted gracefully, following him as the two departed the common room.

"Do you have anywhere you want to go?" she queried. Harry considered for a moment before nodding.

"I should visit Hedwig in the owlery," he mused. "Unless you have anywhere to be?"

"Not really," Amelie shook her head, and the two wandered along the hallways, trying to figure out where they were going. They passed by various classrooms, and Harry made a mental note of their locations. Ascending a flight of stairs, they finally arrived at the owlery, where hundreds of owls were all hooting. A white blur shot down from a perch, landing on his shoulder and hooting happily.

"Hedwig," Harry greeted happily, ruffling the owl's feathers as she leaned into his touch. "How have you been?"

'Hoot!'

"I'm glad," Harry laughed. "I'm sorry I didn't visit any earlier, I was injured, but I'm alright now."

'Hoot?' Hedwig asked concernedly, flying around and giving him a once-over before landing on his shoulder once again. 'Hoot!'

"Yes, I'm really fine, Hedwig," Harry assured. Turning to Amelie, he frowned at her gobsmacked look. "What? Is something wrong?"

"You…you can understand your owl?" she blurted out incredulously. Harry cocked his head, a motion unknowingly mirrored by Hedwig.

"Don't you?" Harry frowned.

"Of course not!" Amelie gave an exasperated sigh. "I swear nothing about you is ever normal."

Hedwig gave a light bark, drawing back Harry's attention. "Oh right, Hedwig, meet my friend Amelie. Amelie, this is Hedwig."

Hedwig stared scrutinously at Amelie, who squirmed slightly, even as she tried to hide it. Were Harry not so worried that Hedwig might genuinely attack her, he might have found the situation hilarious. As it were, he alternated between the two, giving a sigh of relief as Hedwig gave a pleased hoot, hopping off his shoulder and perching onto hers.

"She likes you," Harry commented amusedly as the owl nibbled on the girl's ear, drawing a giggle.

"I'm glad," Amelie chuckled, stroking Hedwig's feathers lightly as she cooed to the owl, "You're a smart girl, aren't you?"

Hedwig preened under the attention, which Harry couldn't help but laugh at. Sitting by the edge of the window, the trio admired the night sky, wondering of the future possibilities.

--Break--

"Welcome to Defence against the Dark Arts," Quirrell spoke crisply. "As first years, your primary objective will be to understand the basics, from which you will be able to advance in future years. Hopefully you have all read the first chapter of your textbooks. Otherwise, keep your mouth shut lest you appear a fool in front of everyone else. I will not be slowing down for any miscreants amongst you that decide not to do the work. Before we begin, any questions?"

Harry raised his hand, drawing the attention of the professor. "Yes mister Potter?"

"What are the dark arts?" Harry queried. Amelie looked at him in disbelief, while several Gryffindors and Slytherins snickered. Quirrell, however, had a gleam in his eyes.

"Explain," he encouraged.

"Well, by the ministry definition, the dark arts are anything that fall under the official list of forbidden magics. Others would define it as magic dependent on negative emotions. Others still would offer different definitions. So which one are we working with?"

"An excellent question," Quirrell nodded approvingly, a faint smile on his lips. "The Dark Arts, as defined in your curriculum, is any magic that is used to cause harm. You disagree with that, mister Potter?"

"Everything can be lethal in the right circumstances. A levitation charm, if overpowered, could smash an individual into the ceiling," Harry proffered, drawing strange looks from the Slytherins and horrified whispers from the Gryffindors.

"Silence you miscreants! If you can't contribute like mister Potter, at least keep your mouths shut!" Quirrell snapped, before turning back to Harry. "The Dark Arts are a constantly evolving field, with its practitioners pushing the boundaries. While many claim to know it, the truth is that many magics we consider mundane today would have been considered dark in a different era. People instinctively fear what they cannot understand or control…that along with the fact that those pushing the boundaries of magic usually have limited moral qualms as well…it creates the perfect narrative."

Most of the class was hanging on to the professor's every word, even the Gryffindors who disliked the dark arts on principle. "Defending against such a threat is not easy. One must continually prove themselves capable and resilient. The nature of the dark arts is to consume and drive to madness. Bellatrix Lestrange is perhaps the most poignant example; her behaviour is often irrational and insane, precisely because she has fallen prey to the lust for the dark arts. But we're going a bit too fast. Who can tell me the difference between a jinx, a hex and a curse?"

Several Slytherins raised their hands, along with Granger. Quirrell pointed at the Gryffindor.

"A jinx is a low level spell meant to cause minor, temporary damage. Hexes are an escalation, usually either longer lasting or more powerful in nature. Curses are the highest level, capable of casting major, long lasting damage," she said in one breath. Quirrell gave a stiff nod.

"An adequate answer, one perfectly taken from the textbook, in fact. Five points to Gryffindor. As Miss Granger has recited, the trifecta of classifications is generally based on the damage they can cause, though this, of course, is arbitrary. Unfortunately, the ministry curriculum would have you memorise how they classify these spells, something you will do in your own time given I lack the patience when we have more important topics to cover," Quirrell snorted. "Today, I will teach you the Levi shield, a basic shield spell. It's useless against all but the most rudimentary of jinxes, but will prove a good test for your control."

With a flourish of his wand, he incanted, "Aver Levi!"

A pale blue shield shimmered around him, which he held for several moments before dismissing. Turning to the blackboard, he drew the wand incantation.

"The wand movement is a spiral followed by a thrust. Do try not to poke your eyes out," he drawled. Harry sighed, for this spell was rather basic. Following the motion, he flicked his wand forward, casting the shield successfully. Beside him, Amelie achieved similar results, though to his mild shock, none of the Slytherins or Gryffindors managed a decent shield.

"Impressive, mister Potter and miss Rosier," Quirrell complimented, flicking his wand towards them and sending two spells. One bounced off his shield, though the other pierced through Amelie's, striking her on the cheek and leaving a red mark. "Come to the front of the class, we will need more space for what comes next."

As the two dutifully followed the professor to the front, the man waved his hand. Harry frowned as he felt a surge of magic swell up around them, looking at the professor curiously.

"A silencing spell, to keep the others from disturbing us. Now, tell me, are you capable with the stunning spell?"

Amelie nodded, while Harry shook his head. Quirrell raised an eyebrow in interest. "Forgive me, mister Potter, but how long have you been practising magic?"

"Just the summer before term. I didn't even know about it before my birthday," Harry admitted. The professor's eyes widened, before humming in understanding.

"That's all the more impressive then. Miss Rosier, you clearly know the technique, but your casting is not potent enough. This is the problem with teaching children too early, you grow acclimated to casting based on your less developed magical cores, meaning your spells are too weak. Cast the shield again."

"Aver Levi," she incanted, determination on her face as her shield shimmered, noticeably brighter this time. Quirrell, it seemed, did not share Harry's admiration, instead flinging a spell, which once again tore through her shield.

"I see little need in teaching you more techniques and spells, miss Rosier. Modulating your control is something you must do yourself," Quirrell shrugged, causing Harry to frown inwardly. The professor seemed extremely eager to help him, and he doubted it was only because of his fame as the boy-who-lived. "Try casting and holding the shield. Leave us."

Giving a curt nod to the professor and an encouraging smile to Harry, Amelie left, leaving the two. "Now…I wish to see what you can do, mister Potter. Are you familiar with the motions of the knockback jinx?"

"I am, though I can't seem to cast it properly," Harry admitted.

"Show me," Quirrell instructed, conjuring a dummy. Concentrating, Harry flicked his wand forward, sending out a red spell, which managed to weakly shake the dummy. Looking to the professor, he waited as Quirrell contemplated for several moments in silence. "What are you thinking when you try to cast the spell, mister Potter?"

"I'm trying to visualise how the dummy would move back," Harry answered. "Am I not supposed to do that?"

"In certain branches of magic, such as transfiguration, that is indeed the case. However, in DADA, that is rarely so. Think about it this way, you can spend an hour cooking a decent meal or a day preparing a feast. There is no doubt of the latter's superiority, yet the proportional value you get is much less. Whereas fields such as transfiguration may value the intricacies and details, in DADA, we operate on the concept of minimum viability. Expend the minimum effort for the maximum result."

"So I…should focus more on the idea of knocking back, rather than visualising the effect I want?" Harry frowned. Quirrell nodded.

"Yes, it takes less effort, meaning you cast faster and expend less energy. Try it," the professor encouraged. Harry took several moments, forcing himself not to visualise as much, but channelling raw intent. Releasing the spell, he gasped in shock as the dummy was hurled against the wall, smashing into several pieces. "Good…there is potential within you after all. Keep studying, and remember my door is always open."

"Thank you professor," Harry inclined his head.

"Now return to your classmates. It wouldn't do for me to show too much favouritism," Quirrel smiled, dispelling the ward. Harry quickly returned to his seat, noting that several others had managed to cast shields.

"What did Quirrell want?" Amelie whispered as he sat down. Harry chuckled at the girl's protective tone, no doubt influenced by their hazing.

"He just gave me some advice on casting spells, nothing too much. How's your shield going?"

"I just…don't understand. It's…the habit, I suppose. They're hard to break," she admitted sourly. Harry rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"I might have a solution, remind me tonight."

"Okay," she agreed uncertainly. Minutes later, Quirrell dismissed the class, from which they needed to head to transfiguration. While the others were seemingly lost, Harry and Amelie split up from the cluster of students, heading briskly towards the transfiguration classroom. To their surprise, the classroom was empty, with only a cat perched on the table.

"Where's the professor?" Harry frowned, to which Amelie only smiled knowingly.

"She's right here, Harry," Amelie teased, causing Harry to narrow his eyes as he scanned the classroom, looking for any sign of a disillusionment charm, or perhaps the magic of a transfiguration. Seeing his frustration, she gave a light giggle. "Seems like you aren't all knowing after all, Harry."

"Bite me," Harry retorted, drawing a snort of amusement from her.

"In your dreams."

"You are in my dreams," he teased, drawing a blush from the witch. "Though I wonder, do I feature in yours."

"You…ugh," she rolled her eyes exasperatedly, even as she couldn't help the grin tugging her lips, dragging him to a seat at the back. Dragging their chairs together, she leaned her head on his shoulder, their hands still clasped together. The cat observed them curiously, and Harry frowned as he wondered…

Yet his musings were broken by the crowd of students entering the room. A few tried to reach out and pet the cat, though its glare sent them all away. Malfoy, walking past them, sneered, "A blood traitor and a half-blood. I didn't think your family could fall any lower, Rosier."

Harry could feel Amelie tense up, and squeezed her hand in encouragement, a retort on his lips when the cat leaped off its desk, transforming into professor McGonagall, whose lips were so pursed they formed a thin white line.

"Ten points from Slytherin and a week's detention for such language, mister Malfoy. Now take a seat." Malfoy's cheeks flushed, but he quickly did so, muttering curses under his breath.

"Now that we are all settled, let u-" the door slammed open, revealing Longbottom and Weasley barging in, huffing and puffing. "Five points from Gryffindor for tardiness. Take a seat."

Under the scowls of the other Gryffindors, they quickly found seats, while McGonagall flicked her wand towards the blackboard, revealing a series of notes. "Today, we're going to be exploring the fundamentals of transfiguration. Can anyone tell me the three main branches? Miss Granger?"

"Transfiguration, transmutation and alchemy," she answered eagerly. "Transfiguration focuses on the temporary alteration of an object, transmutation focuses on more long lasting changes and alchemy focuses on changing the underline composite."

"A textbook answer," McGonagall acknowledged, a slight smile on her face. "Two points to Gryffindor. Throughout the first three years of your time in this classroom, you will be focusing exclusively on transfiguration. In general, these spells are more forgiving than those in the other two branches, though this by no means makes them easy. Transfiguration demands perhaps the most attention to detail of any subject, easily on par with runes in its capacity for catastrophic accidents. Now, copy down these notes."

--Break--

"So…tell me, what were you thinking earlier?" Amelie queried as they sat in a disused classroom.

"The problem seems to be your instinctual control level for magical output, so we need to remedy that psychologically. Let's start with a basic activity, cast a lumos for me." At her questioning look, he added, "Trust me."

He took some measure of happiness that she did so, casting the charm and causing a dim light to glow on the tip of her wand.

"Good, now try and make it brighter," he encouraged. As her arm shook slightly, Harry instinctively closed his eyes as the light flared up, engulfing the entire room. Amelie let out a startled yelp, the light violently snuffed out. Opening his eyes warily, he helped Amelie to her feet.

"So-"

"Don't apologise, that's pretty much what I expected," Harry chuckled. At her askance look, he shrugged. "I made a similar mistake the first time I cast it, but we've overcome a major hurdle. Now that you know you can tap into more of your magic. Describe to me what you felt."

"It was…like a dam suddenly burst and I lost all control of it."

"Good," Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Now instead of releasing it all at once, try and control it like a trickle. Start with your normal lumos."

Wearily, she did so again, the spell already noticeably brighter than the first time she cast it. Harry hid his amusement at her reaction. "Good, now make it slightly brighter…more…more…okay stop and hold it!"

Eyebrows furrowed and sweat dripping from her forehead, she held the lumos at the brightness for several minutes. Harry nodded approvingly, "Now increase the brightness…more…more…and hold it!"

Amelie managed a full minute before collapsing to the floor, heaving on all fours. Sympathetically, Harry retrieved his canteen of water, offering it to her. Greedily gulping down several mouthfuls, she let out a content sigh, lying like a starfish on the floor.

"How…how can a simple lumos be so tiring?"

"It's the difference between a plank and a pushup, it's far easier to complete a powerful motion than to stretch out a weaker one," Harry shrugged. At her befuddled look, he gave an exasperated sigh, remembering his friend was a pureblood. "It's easier to let it out in one burst compared to if you try to release it slowly."

"I'm just…I'm just gonna take a few minutes," she wheezed out. Harry rolled his eyes, retrieving a towel and wiping the sweat off her head. As he finished up, his eyes widened at the light snores emanating from her mouth, and couldn't help a chuckle at the realisation she had fallen asleep.