Episode 10. Part 1

Episode 10. Part 1

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- Dudley, Harry, why weren't you at the game? There's so much... - Emotional when no one else's ears were around, Draco was talking fast and fast about what had happened at the championship and his role in it when they met on the platform nine and three quarters. - Read, read, read. Luckily, that kind of entertainment isn't for us," Dudley paused, rolling his eyes.

- Yeah, and we had enough emotional jolt at the beginning of summer. - Draco chuckled understandingly, glancing first at Harold's hands, where the Lord's large, but not excessively large, ring was dangling openly.

- Ah, yes! Lord Potter..." His father approached as well, looking condescendingly at his cousins, without the usual sneer.

- Lord Malfoy, good to see you in good health," the cousins bowed their heads slightly in greeting. Harold asked in a slightly quieter voice so that no one outside the company could hear: - "I hope you haven't been too shaken by the rumors about what happened? - Lucius squinted at him dangerously. "Why do you ask, young man? - But before Potter could answer, Lord Nott and his son finally approached, apparently, despite Harry's efforts, hearing his mate's question, "Lucius, it's all right. Lord Potter is a conscientious enough young man to want to maintain his neutrality despite the intrigues of the greats, right? - Julius sparkled his eyes slyly.

- 'Quite right,' Harold replied gravely, with his cousin's full support. Lord Malfoy raised his eyebrows in surprise, looking skeptically first at his cousins and then at his friend. Lord Nott nodded to him confidently, saying that the young men were aware of the amusements of their youth, but had no prejudices. Then he relaxed, his suspicion fading from concern to indulgence. "Well, I take it that despite what his enemies were saying, my family's reputation has not been harmed," he remarked with a certain smugness.

- I'm glad to hear it.

- And you young men, what do you think of what happened? - Julius asked. - We expected you to make a public statement after the clamor at the beginning of the summer, but you weren't on the list of attendees..." "My cousin and I thought it was silly, both the quidditch and the attack after it," said Dudley, stately. - It's not clear who benefits from sowing panic among the commoners now. The person behind this is either stupid and arrogant, or has evil plans..." The Senior Lords looked at each other in silence, wondering who he was.

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- The Triwizard Tournament? Have you heard of it? - The twins and Granger asked Potter in one voice. And who else, if of all the students at Hogwarts only he had free access to the information of the highest authority of magical Britain? All the others had such access, if at all, only through their parents or relatives, but such information is usually presented to children as a surprise. So before the headmaster announced the event, there was only one person among all the students who could have known about the upcoming tournament. Harold, wrinkling his nose and feeling the stares of all the Pied Piper Club members, and not just them, burning his back, scratched his head and tried to remember... - Well, if you recall, I think I was forced to sit in Wizengamot meetings about it... - And YOU DIDN'T SAY?! - exploded the much-loved cousins public, and by no means just the Gryffindor faculty, but everyone who heard the national hero. - Pfft, like I care about tournaments..." Harold muttered angrily. - YOU WHAT?! It's... While they were trying to explain to the idiot Potter what's so special about the Triwizard Tournament and why it should be interesting to a hero, an oddly grim-faced Dudley, eyeing the professor's desk, whispered to his brother on the quiet: "Harry, this Grimm... He's not who he says he is. He's here because of you...

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- Oh, what a pity you came after all, Potter, Dursle," Professor Snape said in a feigned lament, actually hoping to make fun of the not-so-hated boy in this extra class, and therefore looking forward to it. - You didn't think I'd give up so easily after what I said, did you? - Harold grinned.

- Of course not! - Severus waved his hand theatrically. - You wouldn't be here otherwise.

The extra tutorials for the cousins began with the usual test of knowledge. While Dudley excelled in this quiz, Harry Potter, as Snape had anticipated, was a complete moron. No, he knew perfectly well the theory of not only three courses of potions, but also the fourth, and fifth, and, in some questions, even the sixth year. He never complained about his memory, and he liked to read textbooks. But he could not answer questions that were not covered in the textbooks, or were meant to be taken for granted. Not at all. He did not understand the logic or the principle. Nor could he brew the simplest of potions himself, even though he knew the recipes by heart perfectly well. Severus concluded with surprise and regret that it was not Potter's brain, but his magic. He had done everything correctly, according to the recipe, but his magic (which was one of the main ingredients in the process of potion brewing by the wizard) invariably spoiled the flawless product at first. Either there was too much of it, or Harold was thinking about something distant during the cooking instead of concentrating on the process, to which his magic reacted, but the result was always equally unfortunate.

Severus became seriously interested in the phenomenon. After making sure that Dudley was way ahead of the program and understood the potion-making process as well as he did, he decided that it would not be difficult or even interesting for him to study with the moron brother. So he devoted the rest of the time he had allotted to his cousins to Potter. He could not figure out what was keeping Potter from making potions in one sitting. But Snape suddenly realized that the boy had a different approach to witchcraft than everyone else. Magic obeyed Harold, as if obeying the unconscious desires of a small child. What was wrong with that? But no, the experienced wizard understood what a formidable advantage and power it had, the ability to create spells without verbal formulas, without memorizing wand movements, and without using it at all...

A faithful follower of the Dark Lord Voldemort and loyal servant of the pillar of light Albus Dumbledore was confused and even frightened, not knowing what to do with his discovery: Harold James Potter had without a doubt the power capable of defeating the Dark Lord, of which he did not know...

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- Professor, if you think you can influence me with a demonstration of this spell, you are mistaken," Neville Longbottom tried to reason with the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in a piercingly icy tone, feeling the support of all the Gryffindors and rat-catchers, those who knew him intimately and were now aware of his history after the papers were released.

- Your parents..." Alastor Grum, or the man hiding behind his disguise, tried to press the student with some incomprehensible relish. He still remembered the Longbottoms, remembered how they had screamed... But it was what their son had said that made the man wonder and wince at the memory: "They are awake, if you don't know. And they remember everything that happened back then. I used to be afraid, but now I think there's nothing scary about this spell. It's unbearably excruciating, yes. But not when you're trying to protect what you care about or stand up for what you believe in," Neville said in a firm voice, truly proud of his parents. - Except to use it, you have to be really crazy and... a dark wizard..." he finished speaking, seemingly neutrally, with disdain and some hint. However, the Professor realized the threat of revealing his true identity, and therefore stopped torturing the poor spider with the Unforgivable torture spell Cruciatus.

- We seem to be a bad influence on him, cousin," Dudley whispered to a snorting Harold, looking at Neville with a smile.

- A fine change of pace growing up," the professor tried to hushed the innuendo in the meantime. Unfortunately, this was a lesson he needed to finish: - So, who's going to give me the third spell? - he asked the students, but everyone was silent in awe, slightly softened by the stiff speech of the usually quiet, modest and shy Neville. "Nobody? Avada Kedavra! - the professor uttered the third Unforgivable, pointing his wand at the spider. A green beam flashed, as if signaling the passage of a living creature into the world of the dead. The spider died untimely in the prime of life, probably leaving his children fatherless and grandfatherless grandchildren, which strongly worried Harold, sensitive to the consequences of the third Unforgivable, almost did not let a phantom tear and fake sniffle... And how many mice, spiders and other creatures died annually to young brainless wizards learned to use the gift?! Potter was quite saddened by these thoughts, ignoring the attention of the professor who had switched to him. "The Third Unforgivable is a deadly spell. No one survived it. No one but one person. And he's among you now. - Now the whole class was looking at Harry. - Do you want to tell me, Potter, how you survived? They say you were protected by your mother's love... Nonsense, in my opinion. Otherwise there would have been many more survivors of that spell, even if they were children," reasoned FalseGruem. - So how did you survive?!

- Magic, Professor," Harold stated the obvious. - And you're right, my mother's love had nothing to do with it. And I guess surviving that spell is just my prerogative. That I survived is a coincidence, an accident. But I can use it again, because I remember the first time it happened," he said in a mock mournful voice, stroking the dead carcass of the enlarged spider with a strangely thoughtful expression. The public he loved momentarily imbibed the show, looking at his hero with mystical horror, but also with respect, and not noticing how doomfully Dudley covered his eyes with the palm of his hand. The latter did not like his cousin's plan to create an ambiguous public opinion of himself...

- Would you care to share a secret? - Asked the false gruem with a gasp, sincerely hoping that Potter would spill the secret, for he was at the age when children liked to brag. But..." Harold was indignant at the very question, "Do I look like an idiot for revealing trump cards to everyone! Constant vigilance! Or so you say? And who knows who's hiding, even if it's under your name and face! - he said coldly. His eyes, staring unblinking at the professor, flickered with inner magic at that moment, making them even brighter green. False Grum instantly realized that not only did the boy know he wasn't who he said he was, but he wanted to kill him, because the famous green eyes glowed the color of Avada... And there was a foot battle going on under the cousins' table, Dudley kicking his brother trying to get him to stop taunting those around him, while Harold lazily fought back. Neville, sitting at the next desk, was smiling contentedly...

***

- Potter, aren't you going to tell us how to escape Avada? - Draco asked. It was unaccustomedly quiet in the living room of the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets. It was the first meeting of the Pied Piper Club this school year. And in spite of the screaming events, everyone present seemed to have a premonition: something not at all rosy was going on in their world. So, gathered together with their friends, they all indulged in this mood, grim as storm clouds at sea. Malfoy's question was on point...

- If you learn how to summon the corporeal Patronus without a wand or a spell, I'll tell you," Harold said flatly. He looked at his friends and didn't mind sharing the secret with them, but... he knew it made no sense. It wouldn't save them, because they couldn't even perform a levitation spell without a wand, just by choice. He'd trained them a little last year and tried to explain how he did magic without a wand. They couldn't do it, as if they didn't believe in their gift. So... - Until then, it doesn't make sense.

- Even Dumbledore probably couldn't do that! - Korner exclaimed indignantly.

- "That's why I said in class that surviving Avada was entirely my prerogative," Potter nodded to him, though he himself doubted that Dumbledore could do such a thing. Even though not all adult wizards could master the corporeal Patronus, it was still on the school curriculum and therefore belonged to the elementary spells. The club fell back into a dark, brooding silence and sat in it until Greengrass spoke.

- The Blacks' escape from Azkaban, from which no one escaped, the event at the Quidditch Championship, the Hogwarts Tournament, in previous events in which at least one participant but died, Alastor Grum, the legendary auror whose hands had filled half of Azkaban's cells, as Professor of ZOTI, the open study of Unforgivable... - enumerated, she was actually thinking about how to convince her friends to accept her little sister Astoria and her strange friend Luna Lovegood into the club. - Harold, what's going on anyway? - Why are you asking me? - Potter, irritated by the attention to his person, who at that moment wanted nothing more than privacy. - There were at least twelve emergency meetings of the Wizengamot over the summer," Theodore chimed in, "and you..." "Only three, one of which dealt with the Sirius case, and the other with the custody of me," Harold retorted. - And planning meetings are about bills, not events. I was made Lord without my consent, so I wasn't really interested in what happened at the Ministry. - So why don't you? - Malfoy demanded regally, to the chuckles of the others. - I don't think we're keeping you in charge here for nothing! You are, in fact, the only one of us who can now leave Hogwarts without knowledge or explanation!

- And that makes you the errand boy? - Dudley grinned softly. Dudley chuckled softly: His cousin grumbled, but did not give away the fact that he, Dursle, also had the right to leave Hogwarts, since they were both recognized as adults. It wasn't in the papers, and his brother guarded his little secret trump card fiercely for emergencies. And yet, in his opinion, his cousin should have gone to the Ministry, alone..." "Harry, go and see the Assistant Minister. It would be useful..." said Dudley. Harold looked at his brother with a serious look, without an ounce of indignation, and obeyed the advice without question...

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