The last remnants of Breath of the Inferno

Hey everyone!

Evidently I’ve done a terrible job of explaining the completely sillyamount of gold inside Harry’s cavern. I’ve had two people (guests, of course -.-) tell me his crashing of the gold market by selling is impossible. So either I did a terrible job or you lot aren’t visualizing it properly. Since this was something more than one of you mentioned, I’ll address it. Harry has enough gold to literally bury his (at the time) 40 meter body inside of the gold. And that’s just one tiny section of the cavern. He literally lives in what was once – for all intents and purposes – an underground city for the Goblins. As in, bigger than Erebor, because they keep expanding it to follow the gold. Gigantic swaths of it is practically buried in the metal the goblins as a race worshipped the same way Thrór did. They all have the same gold lust that inflicted Thrór and called Smaug to Erebor, and they had it for longer before Harry showed up.

The Goblins are Masters of the Earth in terms of powers, allowing them to dig far deeper while knowing perfectly well where they have to dig. In story, the gold the humans manage to pull from the earth is just the pittance the goblins allow them to pull. The mines and veins that aren’t worth their time building around. According to a website I found, the entirety of the gold we’ve ever pulled from the Earth is estimated to be around 166,500 metric tons worth. If it was all smelted into a single pure cube, its sides would measure only 20.5 meters. In the grand scheme of things, that’s not really large at all. Width wise, you could fit it into an Olympic Pool and not even take up half of the length, though it would tower above it even accounting for depth. The goblins hoard the lion’s share of the world’s gold for themselves. Just taking one of these Caverns is enough to put Harry firmly in Goblin Shitsville. Forget Fort Knox. Harry could build a Fort Knox out of gold around a Fort Knox built out of gold just to laugh at people if he wanted to. So yes Mr. Guest, you are correct in saying that you would have to sell a truly ludicrous amount of gold to crash the gold market. Yes, I am completely aware of how silly this is. That is the entire point.

-]|[-

The city of Haar Huuch thundered with the clashes of thousands of swords. Sparks flew as the goblin hordes did their daily training. The drums of war were pounding in the deep, the noise so palpable that it could be heard throughout the massive cavern even where the craftsmen were busy striking hot metal and forming it into more coinage as well as crafting the weapons to supply their rage.

Goblins were not a kind people. From the moment a goblin could walk, it was torn from its parents and put to work, put to the sword. It was taught to fight until its weapons shattered, and then continue with claws and fang. A goblin coveted nothing more than wealth and glory throughout its life, and if it was cut short, no tears were shed. They could always make more. There was no coddling amongst their race.

Their race had come into conflict with the human race more than once across the millennia. The battles that defined history raged on open fields long ago, sword to wand. But the humans were crafty. Dangerous. Their runes were even more powerful than goblin works, and their magic more varied. The conflicts had raged back and forth, each side taking victories as well as bitter defeats. Both races shared a mutual dislike for the other. Their cultures and people were too different to get along. Even now nearing the turn of the millennia, the world was one angered goblin away from yet another bloody conflict.

So the goblins fought. They fought and they tore each other apart in their training games and ‘fake’ wars, all in the desire to keep the edge they could see the humans losing. High King Battledread watched the legions of goblins in formation against one another from up high, near the wealthiest part of the city. Gigantic stacks of gleaming gold bars and pools of sparkling jewels surrounded him. Satisfaction burned deep in his gaze as he watched his men and women tear each other apart.

Far away, the pouring of a massive crucible caught his attention. The molten metal spread by a giant trough laden with goblin magic that kept it from losing heat as well as from sticking to the sides. The liquid poured into dozens of massive vats and cooled unnaturally fast, revealing the shimmering light of gold. The vats opened up revealing the gigantic golden rods, which were picked up by the burliest of goblins and cut down into proper sized bars by the artisans. Far away, the same crucible was already right-side up once more, flanked by dozens of others. They were all being filled by the rain of dust and giant chunks of rock and gold from above, where thousands upon thousands of his people were attacking the walls with picks and even claws. Magic kept the steady rain on target, and meant they didn’t need to waste time separating the gold from the useless rock.

Battledread smiled maliciously. Life as one of the High Kings of a Goblin gold hoard was sweet indeed. He turned to go back into his personal home, made out of magically-strengthened gold. Some would have called it ostentatious, but to the King’s eyes there was nothing better. As his hand reached the knob, a different sound halted the city.

The sound of his people dimmed entirely as the underground city shook. He whirled around just in time to see a gigantic chunk of rock separate from the city’s earthen skyline and crash to the ground, flattening hundreds of dwellings and killing hundreds of his people instantly. He snarled gutturally in the tongue of his people. How had that happened? There was no way it was an earthquake. Their cities were protected against such and either way, it had gone by too quickly. And then another massive rumble rolled through the cavern, even stronger than the previous one. Another massive chunk of the rock above them crashed down, after he watched a massive fissure start racing through the stone. And then he heard it.

Roaring. A deep, guttural sound sending a shiver of ice down his spine. It was coming from the Great Steps…the massive stone stairs one had to walk to enter their great city. He could hear the hundreds of swords clanging on something coming from the entrance now. His gate guards were clearly fighting something. Something angry. Something massive. “WARRIORS!!!!!!” His bellow rang through the entirety of the city, directed by his magic. Not a single goblin inside failed to answer his call. The ones on the ceiling abandoned everything, leaving thousands of tools to crash to the streets as their owners scrambled for weapons and armor. The artisans abandoned their gold and raced for the steel, directing liquid, yet not molten metal around themselves through magic. It was a show of their mastery over the earth that they could do this, though it was only useful in emergencies since it tired the magic.

The roaring was getting closer now, and they all could see the flashes of light now. The flashes of fire. There was no questioning what was coming, but the how was a different story. How was one of those mindless beasts they used to guard vaults in their banks giving his warriors so much trouble? How could it possibly shake apart the ceiling? No dragon they knew of was capable of such a thing.

No matter. It would come and tonight, they would feast. Finally, a massive burst of fire escaped directly from the top of the steps and raced out far bigger and far faster than any dragon fire they had ever seen. Ludicrously, it impacted the other wall of the city and started to splatter, melting stone and heating up the air. Any goblin close to the stream began feeling uncomfortably warm as their armor heated up. The triumphant roar came with the crashing of rock as their ornate gate crumbled apart as the beast forced its way through.

A sound like a hurricane filled their city and blew coins towers apart. The closest regiments were blown clean off their feet from the wind. The dragon was titanic. It was at least ten meters longer than the largest dragon any of them had ever seen, and it’s wingspan was also much larger. Its black and green body was covered in armored scales and protection. It roared, and this time the sound shook the cavern once more, sending the weaker goblins to their knees as their eardrums burst wide open.

Battledread roared furious at the attacker, “FIRE!” He roared and the ballistas roared to life as dozens of them were loaded with black spears the length of muggle cars and inches thick. These were some of their most powerful weapons, capable of puncturing even some wizarding Bunker Shields. They were magically strengthened and goblin runes glowed on their black bodies, imparting even more explosive penetrating power. The twangs of the massive weapons firing warred with the roar of the dragon. The first spear impacted.

Their massive arrows, some of the best weapons the nation had against would-be invaders. The weapons that had won them some of their most important conflicts with the wizards due to their capability of busting through shields…

Their spears bounced off the dragon’s armor in a shower of sparks. The beast roared angrily as a wave of shock spread through the goblins. It tipped forward and was no longer hovering, but actively flying. A goat of fire shot from its mouth and incinerated a wave of ten ballistas and their entire crews. It’s massive body passed close to another dozen, its hind claws forwards and crushing all in its wake.

The swoop finished and the weapons destroyed, it dove downward off the cliff towards the warriors. Again it swooped, hind legs out to crash through. Dozens of broken bodies flew through the air. Even as it landed in their midst. The battle drums were pounding as the roars of the goblin horde accompanied the pounding of feet. “KILL IT! KILL THAT BLASTED BEAST!” Escape and surrender were not thoughts in even a single goblin head. This was their home. Their seat of power. They would not allow it to be taken, and certainly not by a beast! They attacked from every angle like ants, desperately trying to find a chink in the beast’s armor. Their swords clashed and clanged uselessly in showers of spikes. Some even scurried like ants, climbing onto the trashing beast and trying to find something soft to shank, bite, or clew through.

The beast roared and a massive burst of heat emanated from it like a shockwave. The closest of the goblins burn to cinders as the very air they breathed ignited. The smell of seared and cooking flesh filled the nostrils of every living being there. The dragon roared in triumph as it’s whip-like tail flashed. Dozens of goblins behind it were outright cut in half, their armor plates not even a hindrance to the appendage.

It drew back and sucked in air. Its exposed chest began to glow from an inner fire, the heat haze around it capable of melting flesh. Then it threw its head forward and the flame blasted out. The goblins in the fire’s path didn’t even have a chance to scream as they were engulfed. Puddles of melted steel were all that remained of hundreds of goblins.

“Freeze it! Freeze that fucking dragon!” The best mages of the nation stationed in Haar Huuch roared, holding gnarled staves topped with glowing, floating crystals. Beams of sheer cold fired from their tips and combined into one massive beam, impacting the dragon and beginning to flash freeze it. The dragon roared in pain and furiously turned its neck backwards, firing off another gout of dragon fire. The two warred, alternatively flash freezing and super-heating the already damaged ground, which shattered under the thermal shock and sent hundreds of chunks of stone flying everywhere. The fire overwhelmed the ice magic and immolated the screaming mages.

The dragon roared angrily at its hind leg, which was frozen to the floor. It growled and wrenched the limb, the ice cracking and shattering as it took the sky again, apparently no worse for wear. It flew back up into the main city from the practice fields. More goblins were crawling out of their holes, all of them clad in armor that was literally glowing from the amount of heat resistance runes they had hurriedly scribed onto the metal. Several scores of goblins had died outright powering the magical writing.

The dragon landed and started building another massive inferno inside of its chest. The glow and heat was radiating out and even melting some of the gold close by into puddles. The fire screamed through the air and put the goblin runes to the test. The armor started to literally howl as rune after rune failed under fire far hotter than any they had ever experienced. The goblin hordes still kept on, racing towards the beast no matter the futility of their actions. They met claws and fangs as the beast started to gorge itself on their people, its teeth tearing through magically reinforced armor as if it was paper. Dozens of goblins experienced flight for a few seconds before dying of internal injuries as claws impacted their bodies. The lucky ones were torn in half and died instantly. The unlucky ones had to experience the pain of their broken bodies before succumbing.

“FIGHT!” The Goblin High King roared furiously, “IT HAS TO HAVE A WEAKNESS! FIGHT TO THE LAST GOBLIN!” He was furiously working the earth, trying to force it into spikes tipped with steel to force into the beast. But the earth was ignoring his calls. It was as if a stronger Lord of the Earth was blocking his magic, “Harry!”

Huh?

“HARRY!” Harry sputtered awake, his eyes snapping open as he was torn from his memories. His eyes were slit when he opened them but rapidly became normal, quicker than any of the girls could notice. He eyed them curiously, “Are you okay Harry?” Hermione finally felt confident enough to come close to put her hand on his arm.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He said as he turned to where the girl’s eyes were directed to. His left hand was grasping one of the hand rests, and it was now mangled beyond belief. A quick wave of his hand later, and it was pristine once more, “I’m fine.” He said once more, surety in his tone.

“Well, if you’re sure.” Parvati said a little dubiously, still eyeing him a little warily. Still, she too came back onto the bench to sit with him, leaning her head on his shoulder a little. Harry absently wrapped his right arm around her waist.

Daphne eyed him curiously, “What were you dreaming about?”

He chuckled, “Ancient history.” He turned to gaze outside at the speeding countryside. The sun had started to fall in the sky and they were rapidly burning through daylight, “Just ancient history.”

-]|[-

Harry watched in boredom as the sorting went by, trying to suppress his own salivation at the thought of the feast to come. There weren’t very many ‘big’ names being sorted this year, or at least few names Parvati recognized easily. Still, there were a few that caught their attentions. A Creevey, Colin – a young blonde boy who was in serious danger of vibrating himself to death from all of his excitement – got put in with the Lions. As he excitedly ran down from the hat – after having to go back and take it off his head – he seemed to be searching for someone. Harry’s ‘fangirl’ senses started to tingle, and he put his head down. He did not want to eat a person today. Thankfully, Colin was finally pulled into a seat by an older student, having spent far too much time trying to find whoever he was looking for.

The next person of interest to be sorted was a Lovegood, Luna. That was a name Parvati recognized, telling her two friends that the girl was a Pureblood. Luna had light blonde hair that was a bit scraggly and reached down to her mid-back. Her eyes were gray and sparkling a bit dreamily. If Hermione hadn’t known better, she might have thought the girl was a bit under the influence. Despite that, they found her to be a pretty girl. However, she didn’t only look a bit spacey, but she also looked a bit weird. She had what looked like plums for earrings, and her wand was tucked behind her left ear. All in all, she certainly had her own style. Harry privately wondered how long it would be before people started ridiculing her. That last all of about five seconds as the hat shouted her to the Eagles. Poor girl probably wouldn’t last a week before someone started making fun of her for whatever reason.

The last person of any note was the final Weasley, and the only girl of the entire brood. Evidently her name was Ginevra, and she had the red hair of her siblings. She was fairly petite with brown eyes. Her skin looked really pale as she stepped under the hat, allowing her light freckles to stand out sharply. To the surprise of her brothers, the hat didn’t immediately shout out “Gryffindor.” Oh no, she sat under the hat for more than a few minutes, and seemed to be arguing with it for a little while. Finally though, the hat shouted out and she joined the rest of her cheering family. She kept sneaking looks at Harry when she thought he wasn’t looking, and blushed brightly every time he turned her way.

Great, so he (probably) had two fangirls in the younger year. Before he could start lamenting to himself, the food appeared at the hall began to attack their plates with gusto. Plates flew around all tables as Harry, his friends, and a fair number of older students put their wandless magic to work. It was after around fifteen minutes of feasting had passed that Harry finally acknowledged the elephant in the room, “So…no one is going to mention the idiot up at the head table?”

Hermione and Parvati rolled their eyes, “We weren’t going to, no.” Indeed, Gilderoy Lockhart himself was sitting up at the head table resplendent in even more eye-watering robes than Albus. Harry hadn’t thought such a thing was actually possible. They were a canary yellow with lilac birds idly flapping away. The man seemed to be catching the eye of many of the older students, who flushed red every time he sent one of them a wink and a pinging smile. Seriously, Harry swore he could actually hear his teeth shine.

He let out a groan finally, “I really hope he isn’t as useless as he seemed.”

“Talking about our dear friend Gilderoy, hmm?” Fred Weasley grinned over at him, which Harry returned. Ginny – as he heard her brothers call her – was still blushing brightly, seemingly just from proximity since she was in between the twins.

She was also looking morbidly impressed as she finally blurted out, “How are you eating so much?! You made the table sag! You’re eating more than Ron! I didn’t think that was possible!” Parvati and Hermione burst out laughing as Harry grinned at the girl himself. He figured she had more than a bad crush on him, but had found the grit to actually speak to him. Perhaps she wouldn’t be just another fangirl.

Still chuckling, he finally replied, “Oh this? Just a light meal really.” The girl blanched at that. He chuckled harder at her reaction and his two girls were practically crying of laughter now. He addressed Fred, “And friend? I suppose you lot weren’t paying attention then?”

George grinned, “Oh, how I wish I had a camera for that. Mum looked like you had slapped her with a trout!”

Harry laughed harder, and picked up a fork. Before their eyes it changed into a trout as he grinned, “That can be arranged if you’d like a picture.”

“Blimey!” The rest of the table went wide-eyed as Parvati and Hermione smirked from beside him. Fred stared at the trout as it changed back into a fork, “You sure you’re a second year Harry?”

“Oh, stop feeding his ego.” Parvati smirked as she shouldered him lightly, “This big lug is cocky enough without any of that too.”

George grinned, “Harry, you should join us in some pranks! No one would suspect you! Perfect cover!”

Harry chuckled, “Oh, someone would suspect me alright. Old Albus up there would probably sneak us a thumbs up.” Hermione reached around Parvati and lightly smacked him in the back of the head. He glared at her, not noticing as Ginny glowered at the two girls in a small amount of jealousy.

“Not going to have any desert?” Fred asked from around a spoonful of chocolate pudding. Everyone else had also grabbed something sweet, spare Harry.

“Don’t like sweets.” Harry shrugged as he relaxed. Absentmindedly, he transfigured a back to the bench for himself to lean on, not noticing more eyes go wide around the table. Evidently they had forgotten his show during the Quidditch match last year. Or perhaps it was the younger students gasping. Either way, he didn’t pay much more attention to the rest of the hall that night. His thoughts wandered more to the dream he’d had on the way to the school. It had been a long time since he had dreamed of his first battle. A very long time. He had almost forgotten about their attempts to take it back. It had been years since the last attack.

He didn’t know why, but he almost felt as if his scales were itching. That night after they had all gone to bed – Parvati joining them in getting her own room next to theirs – Harry couldn’t sleep. He felt restless and confined. He got out of bed naked as the day he was born and opened his window, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. He stepped out onto the night an fell forward out of the tower, his arms warping as he did so. His wings carried him out of the grounds and he felt a tingle on his skin as he passed the ward-line. The rest of his body morphed into his full form, and then with an ear-splitting crack he disappeared.

Albus watched from his own tower with a furrowed eyebrow. Harry had classes in the morning. Just what was he up to?

-]|[-

The next day Harry met with the girls in the great hall, all of them sitting at the Gryffindor table. He’d slept much more peacefully buried inside his gold than he had in his bed, and the feeling of anticipation had gone. He hadn’t smelled hide nor hair of any of the clawed imps nor had anything in his cavern been out of place. Harry returned to the school fresh, “Where were you? We knocked on your door for about three minutes.”

Parvati asked as she finished chewing a piece of toast, “Sorry girls.” Harry said, “I woke up fairly early and decided to go explore.”

Hermione rubbed his arm, “Are you sure you’re alright Harry? It’s not like you to be antsy like this.”

“Yeah, I’m alright Hermione.” He smiled appreciatively at her, pulling her in for a one-armed hug. She wrapped an arm around his waist and went to say something, but stopped as she let out a tiny yawn instead.

Daphne smirked as the Weasley twins sat down with Ginny. Most of the others hadn’t noticed because they hadn’t been paying attention, but she could see the green monster of envy in Ginny’s eyes as she stared at Harry and Hermione. “Anyway Harry, what are we going to do if Lockhart is as bad as daddy said?” She inclined her head towards the open Voyages with Vampires Hermione had been reading.

Harry shrugged, “Then I’ll not show up for class, and if he gives me detention I’ll put him through the wall.”

“Please don’t hurt my Defense professor Harry.” Albus’s amused voice sounded from behind him. Ginny and the Weasleys looked stricken, but the girls had merely smirked in exasperation. They were sort of used to Harry and Dumbledore’s weird manner of interaction by now, “I only just got him.”

Harry snorted, “You could put me to teach his classes and we’d probably get more out of it. I’d be doing you a favor. Don’t suppose you can get us a get out of jail free pass can you?”

Albus chuckled, “Unfortunately not. It is a core subject, after all.” The Weasleys watched thunderstruck. What in the world? “Enjoy your day, children!”

“What was that?” Fred hissed in awe.

Harry chuckled, “We understand each other.” Harry said simply.

George was looking at him a bit dreamily, “You didn’t really grow up train-”

“No, he didn’t.” Tracey cut him off unequivocally, “Obviously all the Harry Potter books are garbage. Honestly, killing a dragon when he was nine.” She rolled her eyes, before smirking evilly, “Can’t even get that right. It was three at the same time.” Harry burst out laughing at the awestruck look in their eyes. He laughed even harder at the thought that he had killed dragons when he was nine. It was actually six of them during one of the goblin’s attacks.

“Stop teasing them Tracey.” Parvati giggled at the Weasleyette.

Before any more talk could be had, their Head of House passed by with their schedules. After McGonagall was gone, Harry opened his and let out a groan, “Herbology first off.”

“Not a fan of the greenhouses?” George grinned at him.

“I don’t care for plants.” Harry shrugged.

“I don’t like it much either.” Tracey said, “But I’m fairly good at it and I’ll no doubt need it for the future regardless. So I don’t mind the class as much.”

“Oh, what are you planning on doing after school?” Fred asked in interest.

Tracey grinned, “I’m planning on opening my own company eventually.” The twins didn’t perk up so much as explode in excitement, “The eventual goal is to combine useful muggle technology and magic, among other things like creating entirely new tech and medicine.”

Fred grinned and stuck his hand out, “Me and Fred are planning the same thing, but we’re going to put Zonko’s out of business.”

Tracey grinned and shook with him, “Tracey.” She introduced herself. “You two better start paying more attention in class then.”

George made a wishy-washy motion with his hand, “Eh, we pay enough. We’re just not so into the scholarly side of things. Our grades aren’t that great, but we know our stuff.”

Daphne rolled her eyes, “Gryffindors.” She said in disparagement. Said trio of redheads glared at her, “Tell me, who would be fronting the money for your business?” She asked coolly, leaning her cheek lightly on her fist, “You’re Weasleys. I don’t say that to be offensive, but you’re not exactly swimming in gold.” She shrugged as the glares deepened slightly, before smirking, “You’ll need money for ingredients. If you become popular you’ll need to mass produce to meet demand. You’ll need money for store space. You’ll need money to take out advertisements and to pay employees. I’m not doubting your skill at all. That prank you played last year with those tongue things was pretty funny. But exactly who are you planning on finding to invest in your ideas if you can’t show them the marks to back up your skill? You’ll be laughed out of Gringotts if you come in asking for a loan and show them a poor number of OWLs and especially if the ones you show aren’t at least EEs.”

The glares had disappeared and the twins now looked much more contemplative. Tracey giggled, “Perhaps you shouldn’t have mentioned anything. Daphne here wants to be Minister, but I’ve always said she has more of a head for business. When I first started dreaming she was right there haranguing me about details.” She laughed and elbowed her oldest friend, who smirked lightly at her.

George scratched his chin and the two twins seemed to speak to each other without actually saying anything. He let out a long-suffering sigh finally, “I suppose we can try a little harder in class.” He sounded like someone had just told him his dog had died, “It’s not like we can’t do it. It just cuts into inventing and pranking time.”

Daphne shrugged, “So you’ll lose a bit of fun. If you want to be truly successful you have to sacrifice.” She then giggled, “Then again, I’m not saying you should turn into our Hermione here.” She smirked wider at Hermione’s affronted, ‘HEY!’ while the rest of the table started laughing, “Just balance it out is all.”

Harry stood with a groan as he stretched, “Well, let’s get on with it, shall we.”

As they neared the greenhouses they saw the rest of the class standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. Harry and the girls had only just joined them when she came striding into view across the lawn, “Greenhouse three today, chaps!” She said cheerily, causing a murmur to run through the students. They had only ever been allowed into Greenhouse One in the first year. From what they’d heard, this housed more dangerous and exotic plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Harry caught a whiff of damp earth and fertilizer mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella-sized flowers dangling from the ceiling.

They all arranged themselves around the tables as Professor Sprout stood behind a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of different-colored ear muffs were lying on the bench. Harry partnered with Daphne and Padma today, while Hermione, Tracey, and Parvati took the bench next to them. “We’ll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?” Professor Sprout asked them all.

To nobody’s surprise, Hermione’s hand was first into the air. “Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative.” She said, sounding as usual as though she had swallowed the textbook. They really had to break her of that habit at some point. While their group was fine with it mostly, others didn’t take to such instruction nearly as well. “It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state.”

“Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor!” Hermione didn’t much care about the points anymore, but she still smiled. “The Mandrake forms an essential part of many antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?”

Parvati slapped Hermione’s hand lightly as it was shooting up with an eye roll, before raising her own as Hermione glared, “It’s cry is ear-piercing to the point where it can kill you if you’re not protected.”

“Precisely. Take another ten points for Gryffindor.” Professor Sprout told them. “Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young.”  She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone shuffled forward for a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish green in color, were growing there in rows. They looked quite unremarkable, but the way they had described the plant made Harry be a mite more interested,

“Everyone take a pair of earmuffs!” Their Professor said. There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that weren’t pink and fluffy. Harry of course, did not need to struggle to grab the pair he wished, “When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered! When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right! Earmuffs on!”

Harry snapped the earmuffs over his ears. They shut out sound completely. Professor Sprout put the pink, fluffy pair over her own ears and rolled up the sleeves of her robes. Then, she grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.

Even Harry couldn’t help but blanch at the sight. The mandrakes looked like very muddy, extremely ugly babies. Their legs were root-like and their skin was a pale green with a texture that seemed to be vaguely potato-like from a glance. The leaves were growing straight out of their heads. Though most of them couldn’t hear it, it was screaming at the top of its lungs. Harry was fighting down a wince. Apparently these weren’t completely noise cancelling. Harry could still hear the screech very lightly in his ears. It certainly wasn’t at dangerous levels, but for once he was cursing his enhanced senses.

Daphne and Padma must have noticed him looking uncomfortable, because they grabbed his hands and squeezed lightly.

Professor Sprout looked at him a little strangely, before shoving it into a new pot and burying it in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs-up, and removed her own earmuffs. “As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won’t kill yet!” She said calmly, as though she’d just done nothing more exciting than water a begonia. “However, they will knock you out for several hours. I’m sure none of you want to miss the rest of your first day back, so make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up. Three to a desk! We have plenty of pots around and the compost is in the sacks. Do be careful of the Venomous Tentacula. It’s teething!” She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.

A few minutes later, their earmuffs were firmly on their ears once more. Professor Sprout had made it look extremely easy, but it wasn’t. The Mandrakes didn’t like coming out of the earth, but didn’t seem to want to go back into it either. They squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fists, and gnashed their teeth. When it was Daphne’s turn she fought with it for five minutes in increasing irritation before finally let out a growl and a light crackle of lightning engulfed the mandrake. It spasmed and screeched a little louder but it wasn’t flailing anymore. She shoved it into the pot and practically hurled the entire bag of compost onto it wandlessly. She was steaming mad by the end of it, and only got more irritated when Harry effortlessly yanked his mandrake out like a trout and repotted it in about ten seconds. Everyone but Harry walked out of the greenhouse tired and achy, and all of them were filthy.

Thankfully, they had a short while before their next class – Transfiguration – and were able to wash up before meeting up again. There they found out that they would be reviewing for the first few classes, much to their dismay. They groaned in utter boredom before they went through every non-living inanimate-to-inanimate spell they had learned last year and then went through the few invertebrate animate-to-inanimate spells they had learned by the end of the last term. They were the first ones finished with the work, and were allowed to leave over an hour and a half early with no homework for how well they did. The girls weren’t too pleased, but Harry specifically was close to tearing his hair out. Harry’s gift was definitely in Transfiguration, and he was so far ahead in that class he was almost tempted to start skipping it for self-study. He’d finished the entire gamut of spells in under ten minutes and had to wait another fifteen for the girls to finish. Not only that, but he noticed some of the slower students still trying to perfect their fourth items when they left.

They were just walking out of the great hall after finishing lunch when a bright flash almost made Harry immolate everything in front of him. “Here we go.” He absently heard Tracey groan as his hand shot out and grabbed the offender by the collar.

The little blonde boy squeaked in fear as he was hauled off his feet. He dropped his camera in shock – thankfully he had the strap around his neck so it didn’t break – as Harry blinked the spots out of his eyes. Harry growled lowly and everyone froze at the rumble. He recognized the brat as the same one who’d run away with the sorting hat, “What.” The word made Colin wince, “Do you think you’re doing?”

Colin began stammering, “I – I…”

“Come on now Harry.” Hermione wrapped her arms around the arm that wasn’t holding Colin up, “Let him go. He didn’t know any better.”

Harry growled at the now-sniffling boy and dropped him, “Don’t do that again.” He growled and Colin nodded so fast he almost thought his head was going fall off. Harry sighed and ran his free hand through his hair in an effort to calm himself. He wrapped his fingers with Hermione’s and did the same to Tracey as she grabbed his other hand, “What possessed you to think that was a good idea?”

“S-sorry!” Colin squeaked, “I…I just wanted a picture to prove I’d met you! I know all about you. Everyone’s told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you’ve still got a lightning scar on your forehead!” Indeed, the scar was still there. It was now faded and had long-since healed over, but it was still there.

But Harry didn’t really care, “You don’t know anything about me.” He growled, “If you did, you would have known that a bright light flashing in my face was a terrible idea. Only my friends know me.”

Colin put his head down and looked to be holding back tears, “I’m sorry.” He said pitifully, “I just-”

“Didn’t think.” Daphne said, rolling her eyes.

“You’re a kid. You’ll make mistakes. Part of growing up.” Tracey said lazily.

“Don’t let it get you too down, kid. Harry doesn’t like it when people he doesn’t know try to crowd him.” Parvati had her arms crossed, “Just think before you shove that damn thing in someone’s face again. I wasn’t even directly in front of it and I’m still blinking spots out of my eyes.” Indeed, she had uncrossed her arms and was rubbing her eyes.

Colin nodded hurriedly, before trying to put on a brave face by smiling, “It’s amazing here isn’t it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad’s a milkman so he couldn’t believe it either. That’s why I was taking loads of pictures to send home to him.”

“And that’s perfectly fine.” Harry said, still more than a little angrily, “But what you did was an invasion of privacy and you picked the wrong person to do it to.” He let go of Tracey’s hand for a moment and brought it into view in front of him. Fire started licking at his palm, before he crushed it in front of a pale Colin’s face. “You’re lucky I didn’t react badly and burn you to a crisp.” Colin squeaked in fear, but Harry had already entwined his fingers with Tracey’s again,

“Sorry.” Colin said again, and honestly meant it this time. He hadn’t realized that he would basically be treating his hero like he would treat some animal at a zoo by doing what he did. “I just got too excited.”

He bowed his head, and Harry finally calmed down from his anger with a deep, calming breath. “Yeah, it’s fine. Just don’t do it again.”

Colin sniffed again, “Do you…do you think I could get an actual picture with you sometime?” He asked bravely.

Harry stared at him for a moment, before barking out a laugh that made the boy jump, “Ha! You’ve got stones kid. Fine, I’ll take a picture with you. Just no surprises or funny business.”

Colin smiled brilliantly as the girls shook their heads with bemused smiles of their own. He started looking excited again, “After it’s developed, maybe you could sign-”

“Don’t push your luck.” Harry stared him down, but before he could get another word out he heard Malfoy’s scathing tones.

“Signed photos? You’re giving out signed photos, Potter?” Malfoy had drawn up close to them, wondering what the commotion was about. He was flanked – as always – by Crabbe and Goyle. “Everyone line up!” Malfoy roared to the crowd. “Harry Potter’s giving out signed photos!”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Really cousin? This is the best you can come up with?”

“You’re just jealous,” Piped up Colin, whose entire body was about as thick as Crabbe’s neck.

“Jealous?” said Malfoy, who didn’t need to shout anymore since the hall was now pretty crowded, “Of what? I don’t want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don’t think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself.”

“Oh, I figured you always wanted to be the center of attention Draco. Why else would you be screaming at the top of your lungs in a hall? So sorry cousin, but you’ll always just be the secondary character.” Harry smiled lazily, but there was a dangerous look in his eye. He let go of a grinning Tracey’s hand and transfigured a knife from a bit of his robe, “Perhaps you should try the whole ‘cutting your head open thing.’ It might make your face memorable.” Draco had paled and back away in fear, even as Harry returned his robe to its natural form.

“What’s all this, what’s all this?” Gilderoy Lockhart was striding toward them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. “Who’s giving out signed photos?” He was smiling brightly as he waded through the students until he laid eyes on Harry. The smile became a bit more strained, “Of course, I should have known! Good on you young Harry!”

He strode forward and hesitantly made to stand by Harry, but Harry was having none of it, “I wouldn’t Professor. Wouldn’t want to trip again, would we?” Harry was smiling pleasantly, but his eyes promised violence.

Lockhart froze mid step, feeling almost as if he was being hunted. He coughed as the bell rang, “Oh my, I do believe we’re all going to be late.” He said to save face, “Come on now, to your classes! Off you go!” Harry smirked as Lockhart stepped away a lot more hurriedly than he had been in walking towards him. They all made their way to Lockhart’s classroom.

They took their seats and waited for Lockhart to come out of the back room. There was a cage with a tarp over it on a desk to the side. The room had been decorated differently than it had been the year previously. There was a skeleton of a dragon hanging from the ceiling, and all around were portraits of Lockhart. When the class filled and Lockhart entered the room, he cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Neville Longbottom’s copy of Travels with Trolls, and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.

“Me,” he said, pointing at it and winking as well. “Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile Award. But I don’t talk about that. I didn’t get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!” He let out a cheesy chuckle.

He waited for them to laugh. A few people smiled weakly. He cleared his throat to recover, and walked about again, “So I see all of you have your books. Well done. I prepared a little quiz for you all, to test how well you’d read them over the break. Nothing to worry about.” He handed them out – all face down – and returned to the front, “You have thirty minutes! Begin!”

Harry wasn’t expecting much from Lockhart, so he was utterly blown away when he turned the test over and read the first question. His eye started to twitch violently, ‘Is… is he serious?’ He turned his head slightly to try to catch one of his friend’s eyes, and found them doing the same with varying levels of incredulity. Daphne had small crackles of lightning jumping across her clothes and her eye was also spasming. He rubbed his eyes and looked back to the quiz, reading one more time to make sure he wasn’t crazy.

1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s favorite color?

He stared in disbelief. This couldn’t possibly be real, could it? He started stretching his magic towards the paper, casting the few counter-spells he knew such as Finite Incantatem. The paper didn’t change at all.

His teeth were grinding so hard inside his mouth that he would likely have shattered them if he was a regular human. He had low expectations for this class, and yet Lockhart had still exceeded expectations! He was going to be a more useless teacher than Quirrel had pretended to be!

Biting back a growl, he set to answering the questions in the worst ways he could imagine.

1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s favorite color?

Blood of my Enemies Number Five.

2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s secret ambition?

Finding some talent.

3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart’s greatest achievement to date?

Fooling everyone into thinking he is good at anything.

And so on and so forth. His answers got increasingly ridiculous and by the end of it he was actually amused rather than irritated. Half an hour after he’d declared the beginning of the quiz, Lockhart collected the sheets and started going through them rapidly. Harry knew immediately when he got to his paper, because the man blanched hard and quickly stuffed it to the back of the stack. He had a few more reactions with some other papers, and Harry was hopeful that they were the papers of his friends. Finally, the man began to tut, “Hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully. I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples.” He chuckled lightly, “Of course, I couldn’t say no to a good bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky.”

By now, the wonder of Lockhart had filtered in. Or out, in this case. Ron Weasley was staring at the man with an expression of disbelief on his face, while Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas were shaking in silent laughter. Several of the girls were still staring dreamily at him and hanging on to his every word. Several other students from some of the other houses just had expressions of resignation on their faces, realizing that the class probably wouldn’t be too good.

“… but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions! Good girl! In fact…” He flipped her paper over, “Full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?” The rest of the group turned to stare at Hermione in disbelief. She lightly rolled her eyes and sent them looks of, ‘What? Did you really expect anything else from me?’ She raised her hand just enough for Lockhart to see it, and then put it down. “Excellent work! Take ten points to Gryffindor! Now I’m afraid, it’s time for business.” He had made his way over to the covered cage, “Be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here.” He stop to smile reassuringly, and some of the people who had already given up on the class became interested despite themselves. “All I ask is that you remain calm. I must ask you not to scream” He said slowly and clearly in a low tone, before raising his voice as he whipped the tarp off of the cage, “It might provoke them!”

The creatures in the cage were packed in like sardines. They had electric blue skin and were screeching and jabbering at the tops of their squeaky lungs. They were about eight inches tall and started rocketing about the cage as well as they could for how packed in they were. Seamus couldn’t help but laugh in derision, “Cornish Pixies?” The dramatic tension Lockhart had managed to build vanished like smoke.

“Freshly caught Cornish pixies!” Lockhart confirmed, apparently oblivious to the atmosphere in the room. Seamus was laughing his socks off, “Go ahead and laugh, Mr. Finnigan. They can be devilishly tricky little blighters. They’re small and very agile, and are much stronger than their small size would suggest.” He smiled lightly and placed his hand on the cage’s door. Harry closed his eyes. He wasn’t…about to do what he thought he was about to do, right? “Let’s see what you make of them!” Lockhart yelled and threw the cage open.

The pixies burst from the cage while cackling in glee, flying off in every direction. None of the students at the front of the class had their wands out, so Harry supposed this could have been a decent ambush simulation. Poor Neville tried to whip his new wand out, but the pixies got to him first as he fumbled with his robes and started hauling him up by the ears. Neville lifted off of his seat and was carried, moaning in pain, to the ceiling where they hung him from one of the chandeliers. Several others forgot they were magical entirely and started trying to whack the things with their heavy Lockhart books. Several shredded sheets of paper flew everywhere as they pixies started ripping things apart, and all the while they avoided Harry and his group. They all sat there in utter disbelief as Lockhart shouted, “Come on now, round them up! Round them up! They’re only pixies!”

Harry turned to his girls and they were all just staring at each other in incredulity. The class was in pandemonium now, and Lockhart whipped his wand out, “Peskipiksi Pesternomi!” He bellowed while waving it. Again, their low impression of him dropped even further. Then it sank into the earth in a long tubular crater as one of the pixies grabbed the man’s wand and flew away with it.

Harry turned to his girls again, “Did that just happen?” Hermione was lightly slamming her head into her desk over and over again. She missed as Lockhart ran out of the room into his office in a panic and shut the door. The rest of them saw it perfectly well. Hell, even the man’s life-size portraits had fled the room. It would have been hysterical if it wasn’t so sad. The pixie who had grabbed his wand flew up to the skeleton of the dragon and tapped the wand onto the chain. The chain broke and sent the decoration crashing to the floor, sending shards of bone – or whatever the replica was made of – flying everywhere. The students were now just trying to run away, all the while Harry’s group just sat there in such stupefaction that they did nothing.

Finally, Daphne slapped her face and said, “Enough of this.” Her right hand started crackling with electricity before she threw a bolt forward at the closest pixie. It impacted in a shower of bright blue sparks and the creature spasmed and cried as it was zapped continuously. It dropped to the floor – pretty fried – and did not move. The bolt of lightning then jumped again, to another two targets. Then the next four, and then the last eight. Each time, the bolt somehow grew in power and targeted only pixies. Finally, all of the dead, smouldering pixies dropped to the floor. She shook her head in disbelief, “Let’s get out of here. I feel dirty.” She mumbled and absently gathered her stuff wandlessly. The rest of them followed in increasing degrees of disbelief.

-]|[-

“Peskipiksi Pesternomi.” Hermione deadpanned, “Pesky Pixie Pester No Me.” She slammed both hands to her face, “How in the bloody hell did that idiot get hired!” She screeched into her hands, muffling it.

“Hermione swore!” Harry gasped with a fake look of awe on his face. Tracey and Parvati mimicked him while Daphne hid a smirk behind her hand. Padma merely giggled while shaking her head in exasperation.

“Oh shut up.” She mumbled back, sliding her hands down her face, “How are we supposed to get good educations if they keep hiring people who either don’t know what they’re doing or pretend they don’t!”

“Same way we did last year.” Daphne shrugged in annoyance, “We do it ourselves.”

Harry sighed, “I know I said I’d give him three classes, but honestly?” he started to chuckle, “I think that one class was already all she wrote.”

“No kidding.” Tracey mumbled.

Padma spoke up, “Loathe as I am to consider just skipping classes…” she sounded exasperated, “I don’t suppose anyone knows a clone technique?” She giggled at Daphne’s look of incomprehension.

-]|[-

Throughout the week they found something to amuse themselves with; the reactions of the various professors to Lockhart. It quickly became clear to them that the professors were no fans of the man. They were shocked a few days into the term to see Professor Sprout – one of the nicest in the school – looking grumpy and irritated. Later they found out that Lockhart had besieged her with unwanted and unsolicited ‘information’ on how to properly prune a Whomping Willow. They also found out that they actually had a Whomping Willow on the grounds, and that it was usually worked on by Professor Sprout monthly.

When they visited Hagrid and were shown the giant pumpkins he was creating, Hagrid had also growled about Lockhart delivering knowledge on how to keep Kelpies out of a well. To Hagrid. As if the giant man didn’t already know everything there was to know about taking care of magical creatures. Hagrid also told them that Lockhart was the only one who applied. Period.

Lockhart had also started giving out signed photos of himself to the students. Harry and all of his girls had received one each, with little notes on them. Harry’s said, ‘Word to the wise Harry. Let me just say that handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn’t sensible. Looks a tad bigheaded, Harry, to be frank. There may well come a time when, like me, you’ll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but I don’t think you’re quite there yet. Don’t worry though, I’ll cover for you this once.’ Harry’s eye was twitching like the firing mechanism of a machine gun as he casually ignited the photo and burned it to cinders. He was greatly amused at the horrified look on the man’s face as he burned and tried to run away. Daphne didn’t even open the envelope, and instead ran her lightning through it until it ignited. Padma used her burgeoning control over wind to slice hers into confetti and Parvati drowned it to the point it hardly resembled paper. Hermione and Tracey kept theirs with somewhat evil smiles on their faces. Lockhart’s picture was ecstatic, up until the girls taped them to training dummies. They had a good laugh over that one.

The next day, they were beset by something which surprised them. Fred and George walked into the great hall for lunch and they were steaming mad. “The hell happened to you lot?” Harry chuckled lightly.

“What didn’t happen?” Fred said angrily.

“Let’s see, to start, Wood had us up for Quidditch practice at the ass crack of dawn.” Tracey sniggered at George’s statement.

“He then forced us to sit through forty minutes of lecture…”

“…instead of doing the, you know, smart thing and telling us last night when we were all awake.”

“That would be why I’m not on the team.” Harry said cheerfully, “Well, among other reasons, of course.”

“So then we finallyget on the pitch, and the Slytherin team shows up saying…”

“That Snape was overriding our booking of the pitch…”

“So they could train their new seeker.”

“Let me guess.” Daphne rolled her eyes, “Malfoy?”

“Right in one.” George said icily.

“Not that he got in on skill of course.” Fred said bitterly.

“Oh no, that would have been too easy.”

“The entire Slytherin team showed up with Nimbus 2001’s.” Fred snarled. Hermione choked as she went through the arithmetic in her head. At nine-thousand Galleons a pop and with seven players that was sixty-three-thousand Galleons. That was around the price range of a supercar Lucius Malfoy had casually dropped on a bunch of school children just to get his son onto the team.

Harry started to chuckle, “You know, I’d almost be tempted to join you lot just to rub Malfoy’s nose in the dirt.” Fred and George started looking at him as if he was the messiah himself, “But, honestly? Malfoy just isn’t worth the effort.”

“That was cruel Harry.” Fred sniffled.

“What did we ever do to make you hate us so?” George fake-sobbed.

Harry chuckled, “Cheer up lads. At least you two are actually skilled. Malfoy couldn’t fill a thimble with it if he liquefied it and bottled it.” Fred and George snorted in amusement and Harry burst out laughing, “Imagine if you can force him into crashing during the game!” Their expressions turned dreamy. He stretched, “Anyway, I think we should get to practicing. We’re certainly not going to learn anything in Defense.”

The Weasley twins snorted, “Tell us about it. We knew he was a fop from the way mum put him on a pedestal, but we didn’t expect him to be useless.”