The Magical Air

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall said as everyone started collecting their stuff to leave, "Stay after the class."

Both Hermione and Ron looked at me in confusion. I was a little confused too. Why was McGonagall keeping me after the class? I didn't know. Eventually, the class dispersed, leaving only me and the professor alone in the room.

"Have a seat Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, waving her wand, conjuring a chair right in front of her desk, facing her. I calmly sat down and waited for her to continue

"Both Professor Vector and Professor Babbling have checked your test," McGonagall explained with a small smile. "I am extremely happy to say this— You have been accepted on both Arithmancy and Ancient Runes."

"Really," I asked, a little shocked. "Even Arithmancy? But I wasn't even able to attempt all the questions."

"Ahh— yes, yes." McGonagall sighed lightly, but there was a hit of amusement. "Professor Vector was quite impressed that you were even able to attempt more than half the questions."

McGonagall looked at me, as if gauging my face. After a few seconds she smiled, a small, but warm smile. "It's very heartening Mr. Potter. To see that you are finally taking your studies seriously." I could hear genuine happiness from her voice, betraying her usual stern expression, "Both Lily and James were exemplary students. I know they will be proud."

"Thank you— Professor…" I said, the mention of my parents making my heart a little heavy with longing. Even now, I feel broken when they are mentioned. They had sacrificed themselves for mel.

"Here, Mr. Potter." She passed me my new schedule.

Soon, I left the class. I followed the general crowd and made my way to the Great Hall. As grand as ever, the Hall was littered with students here and there—some sitting, some standing, some eating and some engaged in conversations. Finally I noticed my two friends.

As I made my way towards them, a figure bumped into me, both of us stumbled. I quickly steadied myself and helped the little girl too. "Hey, you okay?" I asked.

The girl opened her mouth, seemingly ready with a retort, and then her eyes met mine and then my scar. I internally winced, "Ye-yeah… I am oh—kay," She stammered.

"Okay… I am sorry, you know for… bumping into you," I lightly apologized, and noticed a light red hue tingeing her cheeks. I internally grimaced and quickly after her barely whispered, 'No worries,' I left.

I made my way to Ron and Hermione and sat down on an empty seat next to Hermione.

"So, why did Professor McGonagall ask you to stay?" Hermione asked both curious and worried about me.

"Well, you see 'Mione," I said, trying to create a dramatic effect, "I have been accepted in both Arithmancy and Ancient Runes."

"H'unes 'oo!" Ron exclaimed; her mouth filled with a sausage.

"Oh, for God's sake. Ron!" Hermione chastised, "Have some table side manners!"

"Yeah… yeah," Ron said after gulping. "Anyways, Harry, you saw the notice board?"

"Uh… No?" I said, a little confused, "Was there a new notice? Are they finally firing Snape?" I joked. I had a small idea what the notice was—

"The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang Delegates for the Triwizard tournament will arrive on 30th October," Hermione said, her eyes locked on the 'Transfiguration and Conjuration: 4th grade'. "Seriously Harry, how did you manage that switching spell so easily?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "We have DADA next right?" I asked and Ron's face lit up.

Day by day, the classes started getting harder. The harder part was not really the writing and doing part… just the homework part. I needed to get a dicta quill. As my Arithmancy and Ancient Runes classes started, the workload became even worse. I had a newfound appreciation for Hermione for bearing this load throughout the school years.

On Monday Hedwig returned back. "Hey girl," I lightly petted the Snowy White Owl, unable to hide my happiness at seeing my old companion. "Here, all for you," I gave her some treats. Hedwig lovingly nipped my fingers.

"So how is he?" I asked Hedwig and received a trill in response. "Ohh~ is that letter for me?"

Hedwig extended his leg, and I took the letter. "I will give you more treats later, okay?" Hedwig puffed herself, as if saying, 'You better'.

I grimaced as I read the letter. Hermione peeked and realized the reason for my change in mood. "He is coming back north. Is he serious?"

"Well… He is Sirius…" Ron quipped.

"Not the time!" Hermione exclaimed.

I conjured a parchment and started writing:

Dear Sirius,

I reckon I just imagined my scar hurting, I was half asleep when I wrote to you last time. There's no point coming back, everything's fine here. Don't worry about me, my head feels completely normal.

Harry

"You know that's a lie…" Hermione trailed.

"Drop it—" Ron said and for once in her life, she listened to her words.

"It's not hurting anymore," I said and added tersely, "I don't want him to be imprisoned because of me."

To everyone, well except mine, surprise, Professor Moody had announced that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of them in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether they could resist its effects.

"But — but you said it's illegal, Professor," said Hermione uncertainly as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. "You said — to use it against another human was —"

"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," said Moody, his magical eye swiveling onto Hermione and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. "If you'd rather learn the hard way — when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely — fine by me. You're excused. Off you go."

He pointed one gnarled finger toward the door. Hermione went very pink and muttered something about not meaning that she wanted to leave. Hermione was many things, but not a quitter. And quitting a class? Simply preposterous.

Moody began to beckon students forward in turn and put the Imperius Curse upon them. Some were made to dance; others did some impressive gymnastics. One even gave a perfect immigration of McGonagall.

"Potter," Moody growled, "you next." I moved forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space that Moody had cleared of desks. Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry, and said, "Imperio!"

It was the most wonderful feeling. I felt a floating sensation as every thought in my head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. I stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of everyone watching me. And then just as quickly as the feeling had come it vanished. I clamped down my Occlumency shields and focused to get rid of this fake weightlessness.

Jump onto the desk. . . . The words came and instead of acting like a command, they helped me to find an anchor back to reality. I bulldozed my way out of the hold and finally, after what felt like an eternity but was only a few seconds, I prevailed.

NO… "No," I said, defying the words. I still stood in my position where I had earlier. No movement, nothing. I had beaten the spell completely and utterly with my fourth-year body.

"Now, That's more like it—" Moody growled, his voice barely showing his surprise, though I could sense it rolling off him in waves. "Look at that, you lot… Potter fought! He fought it, and he beat it! We'll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you, pay attention — watch his eyes, that's where you see it — very good, Potter, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling you!"

Moody continued the class and it was tense. As the class neared to its end, Moody assured everyone that the aftereffects of the Imperius would wear off by lunch.

All the fourth years had noticed a definite increase in the amount of work they were required to do this term. Professor McGonagall explained why, when the class gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework she had assigned.

"You are now entering a most important phase of your magical education!" she told them, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. "Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer —"

"We don't take O.W.L.s till fifth year!" said Dean Thomas indignantly.

Professor Binns, the ghost who taught History of Magic, had them writing weekly essays on the goblin rebellions of the eighteenth century. Professor Snape was forcing them to research antidotes. Everyone took this one seriously, as he had hinted that he might be poisoning one of them before Christmas to see if their antidote worked. Professor Flitwick had asked to read three extra books in preparation for their lesson on Summoning Charms.

In short, everything was going perfectly. No drama, no tension. Everything was happening just as it had the last time.

"Only a week away!" said Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, emerging from the crowd, his eyes gleaming. "I wonder if Cedric knows. Think I'll go and tell him. . . ."

"Cedric?" said Ron blankly as Ernie hurried off.

"Diggory," I said. "He must be entering the tournament."

"That idiot, a Hogwarts champion?" said Ron as they pushed their way through the chattering crowd toward the staircase.

"He's not an idiot. You just don't like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch," said Hermione. "I've heard he's a really good student — and he's a prefect." She spoke as though this settled the matter.

"You only like him because he's handsome," said Ron scathingly.

"Excuse me, I don't like people just because they're handsome!" said Hermione indignantly.

Ron gave a loud false cough, which sounded oddly like "Lockhart!"

"What about you two? Will you enter your names?" I asked, wondering how not having an age-line would affect the tournament.

"Hell yeah!" Ron exclaimed and added. "Who doesn't want eternal glory?"

"No." Came Hermione's firm and matter of fact reply.

"And why is that Miss. Brainiac?" Ron asked, rolling his eyes.

"I read about it," She said and both Ron and I had an expression that screamed 'Obviously', "And there is a history of great death toll in this tournament."

"Death toll?" Neville stuttered from a seat across ours.

"Yes— In the last tournament that happened two centuries ago, all the Champions died in the first task because of a Cockatrice."

"But they didn't have Dumbledore!" Ron said.

"Yes, but even with Professor Dumbledore, I would rather not take any chances." Hermione said with a tone of finality. She lightly petted Crookshanks, who was nuzzling his face against her legs.

During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where I went: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumors were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves.

Everyone noticed too that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects, who sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw pink faces. The suits of armor were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was being so ferocious to any students who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics.

I was currently by myself on my way to the second floor. This was a rare occurrence, and a welcome one too. Me, Ron and Hermione had been doing homework. I had finished half of it already and so was able to leave early, much to Ron's disappointment. Every free time I had been getting, I had used to the fullest since I reached Hogwarts.

Practicing Occlumency every other night, reading the Parsel magic book that I had taken from the room of requirement, and practicing spells and doing rituals. It was tedious and tiring. But I was managing.

Finally, I reached my destination— The second floor's girl's lavatory.

I looked around and then quickly entered the place. Myrtle was not present. Good. I walked towards the cubicle with snake engraving and opened the passage to the Chambers of Secrets.

I plucked my wand out of my pocket and waved. A staircase started conjuring, descending to the depths of the passage. One step at a time, I began climbing down the staircase. The place was as dark and dreary as it had been the last time. Still littered with shedded skin, residual magic of the Basilisk and of course hundreds of tunnels.

I continued my march and walked towards the Chamber. After a while I finally reached the Chamber's door. "OPEN," I spoke in Parseltongue.

As the door clicked and clanked and finally opened I was met with a grotesque sight. The basilisk, the king of snakes, or perhaps the queen? It laid dead on the floor, nearly ten meters long. How I had killed it as just a second year, I would never know. But I had no time to think and wonder.

I started walking towards the mouth of the large Salazar Slytherin that was engraved on the wall—The place from where the Basilisk had come. It was a door. Not just any door, but one which contained the knowledge of Slytherin himself. In my last life, I hadn't managed to claim all the books… This time I would.

I confidently walked and entered Slytherin's study. Shelves upon shelves of books. Books, written in the magical language— Parseltongue. Only I and Voldemort could read it. And I would make sure that Voldemort would never.

I looked around the small, cramped study and smiled. "Perfect," I murmured…

Gently, I picked up a small painting of the founder. The painting wasn't like the others in Hogwarts. It didn't move. The spell hadn't been invented at the time. I wiped the dust off of the portrait and looked at the man— Emerald eyes, sharp features and jet black hair. This man was the founder. I felt a mixture of hatred and gratefulness.

"Legend for those who think they know him, and a broken man for those who truly know him."

With a sigh I placed the portrait back and opened one of the two drawers, picking the lone journal out, Slytherin's Journal. I carefully picked the journal and tucked it in a pocket under my blazer. Quickly I exited the chamber, heading towards the common room.

The next day, thirtieth October, when we went down to breakfast, we found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

It was all as I had been expecting. Anyways, me, Ron and Hermione sat down with Fred and George. The twins were engaged in a hushed conversation, away from everyone. Only snippets of their conversations were audible.

"Who is avoiding you?" Ron asked, as he pieced a small part of their conversation.

"Hope you would…" Fred muttered, looking irritated at the interruption.

"What's a bummer?" Ron asked George.

"Having a nosy git like you for a brother," said George.

Hermione meanwhile had gotten more vicious in her campaign against the supposed enslavement of house elves. She had created badges with S.P.E.W written on them and was trying to make everyone support her to help the conditions of House elves.

Some people, like Neville, had paid up just to stop Hermione from glowering at them. A few seemed mildly interested in what she had to say, but were reluctant to take a more active role in campaigning. Many regarded the whole thing as a joke.

George, however, leaned in toward Hermione. "Listen, have you ever been down in the kitchens, Hermione?"

"No, of course not," said Hermione curtly, "I hardly think students are supposed to —"

"Well, we have," said George, indicating Fred, "loads of times, to nick food. And we've met them, and they're happy. They think they've got the best job in the world —"

"That's because they're uneducated and brainwashed!" Hermione began hotly, but her next few words were drowned out by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead.

I looked up at once, and saw Hedwig soaring toward me. Hermione stopped talking abruptly; she and Ron watched Hedwig anxiously as she fluttered down onto my shoulder, folded her wings, and held out her leg wearily. I pulled off Sirius's reply and offered Hedwig his bacon rinds, which she ate gratefully. Then, checking that Fred and George were safely immersed in further discussions about the Triwizard Tournament, I read out Sirius's letter in a whisper to Ron and Hermione.

Nice try, Harry.

I'm back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. Don't use Hedwig, keep changing owls, and don't worry about me, just watch out for yourself. Don't forget what I said about your scar.

Sirius

"Why'd You have to keep changing owls?" Ron asked in a low voice.

"Hedwig'll attract too much attention," said Hermione at once. "She stands out. A snowy owl that keeps returning to wherever he's hiding . . . I mean, they're not native birds, are they?"

"Only the best bird," I cooed at Hedwig, petting her and offering her some more bacon.

This was not very convenient. But I had to just bear with it. I knew Sirius would be safe, but I couldn't help but be slightly scared. Anyways…

There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang; even Potions was more bearable than usual, as it was half an hour shorter.

"Follow me, please," said Professor McGonagall. "First years in front . . . no pushing. . . ."

They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest.

For a while there was nothing but chattering of students buzzing the area. Then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers — "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, they saw a gigantic, powder blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

Everything that happened next was just a blur. I noticed the Beauxbaton students descend. I saw Madame Maxime, the tall half-giant, greet Dumbledore. I was aware when the Durmstrang student came. When Krum was spotted by students. But to me all of this happened in a blur. My eyes were focussed on something else.

A small wish crept, slippering and slithering—slipping into the folds of my heart. A forbidden desire. A selfish one too. But as I looked into those Sapphire eyes… As I looked at the beautiful girl, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulder, a single thought shook me to my very core, 'Her, I want her. She is beautiful'

As soon as I registered my own thoughts, I clamped down on my Occlumency. I kicked myself internally and lightly but firmly told myself, "No!"

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing."

I would think with my head. No time to stare at Fleur Delacour, no matter how beautiful she is. I had one objective, and that was to protect everyone while destroying Voldemort. No need to bring other people in danger. No need for love.