Temporal Paradox: The Second Chance of Harry Potter

Chapter 32: Chapter 32: Simply Disarming



September 11th, 1976

 

Suddenly the couple heard a pair of footsteps approaching from right behind them, echoing through the abandoned corridor and accompanied by a whistled melody...

 

Three minutes earlier, Headmaster's Office

 

Albus Dumbledore, the Hogwarts Headmaster, had not been seen for the last 12 hours by any student or even his staff. The last time he had contact with any actual living being had been earlier this morning when he invited the other professors to his office and asked if any of them felt something strange around 10:00 pm last night.

 

To his surprise, Minerva admitted to having briefly felt a small ripple while grading some papers, but none of the other professors had witnessed anything of that sort.

 

Therefore, Dumbledore had remained in his office ever since this morning and analyzed the mysterious events from the previous night. Each of the silver instruments had been fully disabled and put back together to check if it had actually functioned properly or given a fake alarm. However, despite all his efforts, it seemed that Dumbledore had finally encountered a mystery he failed to solve so far.

 

'Not that he found no leads at all.' For example, he knew that the epicenter of the powerful magical burst must have come from one of the lower floors, presumably first to third. That observation was supported by Minerva's statement since her office was located on the first floor. In addition, the magic had been cast by someone within the castle and was not the work of runes or any other enchantments.

 

Yet none of those clues explained how he had temporarily lost control over his own wards and why so many of his other instruments had gone completely crazy. 'What kind of magic could have such striking effects?'

 

'Old magic or complex ancient magic perhaps?' But what student could possibly have any knowledge about that? Well, there was one student who might be acquainted in that area and Albus had even briefly played with the idea of calling him to his office. However, Harry Peverell was way too clever to overlook any attempt at interrogation and Dumbledore would ruin his plans to get closer to the boy by accusing him of being involved.

 

The headmaster slummed back into his seat with a deep frown. He was slowly getting frustrated. It has been many years since his brilliant mind had been unable to find a solution to a problem. The last time he had worked on a single issue for so long without making any progress had been during Nicolas' and his discovery of the twelve uses of dragon blood.

 

He was about to head over to his private library to consult a few more books when the small hairs on the back of his arm suddenly stood straight and the tiniest goosebump rippled over his skin. A split second later, dozens of his devices sounded alarmed once more, just as they had last night, perhaps even stronger.

 

Albus was up in an instant, silencing the many instruments with a wave of his wand. He had a rough idea of what exactly could have had his skin crawling. What he felt must have been the residue of a powerful magical shockwave and whereas its epicenter must have been on the lower floors the last time, this time it was higher up, perhaps even on the seventh floor.

 

"I am heading for a stroll, Fawkes." Dumbledore mused as he headed out of the office and down the spiral staircase past the Gargoyle. The excitement he felt at finally gathering some additional clues almost felt like during his time with Gellert when the two worked on magic's deepest mysteries in his small room in Godric's Hollow. 

 

He glanced in both directions of the empty corridor leading to his office. Something told him to head to the left, away from the giant staircase leading up to the seventh floor and deeper towards the southeast of the castle.

 

Albus started whistling a happy little tune, which had been stuck in his head ever since he listened to it on a muggle radio over the summer. There was a light spring in his step as he was unable to hide both his excitement and curiosity.

 

Suddenly he heard faint voices drifting over to him, a boy and a girl if he was not mistaken. He spotted them just as he turned around a corner sporting a gorgeous tapestry, which depicted trolls of various sizes.

 

The sight however was not one he would have expected.

 

Two heads, one with long golden and the other with short ebony hair were interlocked in a very intimate, heated kiss. Albus struggled to identify whose hands belonged to whom, since the girl was pushing the boy against the wall, their bodies pressed against each other. The girl's robes had blue highlights, the boy's red and golden.

 

He knew of one couple that would perfectly match this direction... 'What a coincidence to meet them up here...'

 

'Oh, to be young and feel love's keen sting.' Albus cleared his throat, to make his presence known, hoping it had been loud enough so the couple might hear it over the sounds of lips clashing against each other.

 

They immediately jumped apart, startled by his intrusion of what must have been a rather private moment. Both were sporting furious blushes and avoided his gaze, looking anywhere but towards him.

 

Albus chuckled: "I would wish you a good evening, but I doubt that will be necessary. I can tell you two have been enjoying this night perhaps a tad too much."

 

"We are so terribly sorry, Professor." Harry Peverell spoke up first: "We didn't mean to get so caught up."

 

"You were hardly the first students that have been caught in such a precarious situation and I doubt you will be the last, my boy." Dumbledore smiled good-naturedly. His twinkling blue eyes traveled over the scene again, trying to spot anything suspicious about it. He caught a small glimpse of Peverell's wand poking out from within his robes, almost as if it had been hastily placed inside. 

 

In addition, the boy had small droplets of sweat running down his forehead. Intimacy such as the one he had stumbled over often got more physical, but surely not so much as to make someone as athletic as Harry Peverell break a sweat? 'Something was fishy about this situation.'

 

"Ms. McKinnon." Dumbledore smiled at the girl, making sure not to display any of his suspicions: "I must admit that you were one of the last students I would have ever expected to catch in such a situation. Shouldn't you be on a Prefects patrol?"

 

"I apologize, sir. You are correct of course; this will remain a one-time incident and it certainly does not reflect my behavior correctly." The girl nodded, still avoiding his eyes: "I finished my patrols roughly half an hour ago, so Harry and I agreed to spend some time together."

 

"A fascinating spot to catch up with one another." Albus smiled and looked around: "Is there anything particularly special about it? During my time as the transfiguration professor, I usually stumbled over scenes like this when opening a broom cupboard. I dare say you two are quite bold to do so in the middle of the corridor."

 

"Marlene picked me up from the Gryffindor common room and we just wanted to get away from the portrait hole, sir." Unlike his blonde girlfriend, Peverell was now confidently meeting his gaze. A lopsided grin, one Albus had seen on James Potter dozens of times, curled the corner of Peverells lips: "We did not really pay much attention to where we were heading... We were kind of caught up in the heat of the moment you see."

 

"Harry!" The Ravenclaw Prefect hissed and elbowed him into the side.

 

"I completely understand, my boy. 'First love is only a little foolishness and a lot of curiosity,' as they say." Albus forced a smile back on his lips, though it was obvious to him that Peverell was lying to his face. He would prefer for Ms. McKinnon to answer his questions, but the girl continued to avoid his eyes and act embarrassed instead. 'Was she actually embarrassed at being caught or did she do so with a purpose?'

 

"If you will allow me, perhaps it's best if I escort Marlene back to the Ravenclaw common room, headmaster." Peverell shot him a charming smile, one that reminded him so much of another handsome boy who roamed the corridors of this castle many years ago: "I give you my word that there will be no delays."

 

'Not so quick, my boy.' "Actually, I was hoping you two could help me with something." Dumbledore took a few steps forward, trying to get a feel for any residual magic in the area. He was not disappointed. The space around the couple was heavily saturated with potent magic, turbulent and wild, yet not necessarily of dark nature.

 

"Of course, sir." The boy's expression remained neutral, nothing hinted at him being nervous: "How may we be of assistance?"

 

"A mere five minutes ago I was working on a little project of mine when I suddenly felt a powerful magical outburst, which could have very well originated on this floor. In fact, it was powerful enough that it even impacted the wards of the castle itself." The headmaster's eyes twinkled: "In my pursuit to find its epicenter I left my office, leading to the unfortunate discovery of you two in - let's call it - a rather precarious position."

 

"How very interesting..." Peverell scratched his jaw: "Though I apologize in advance because I must have missed the actual question in your latest statement, sir."

 

'Not bad, my boy.' "Silly me." Dumbledore chuckled: "I was merely wondering if either of you have witnessed or done anything that might explain what I have felt in my office? Is there anything of the like, Ms. McKinnon?" Albus decided to switch tactics and address the girl directly.

 

She looked up at him with large, innocent ice-blue eyes, the previous blush was all but gone: "No, professor, I am afraid we did not witness anything remarkable."

 

"Well, that kind of hurts, my dear girlfriend." Peverell laughed from beside her and made her head spin towards him just when Albus planned on giving her the faintest probe. 'Well played.'

 

He pulled her closer by the waist and grinned over to the headmaster: "I certainly felt something. Although I doubt that the expression of our feelings could have had any effects on the wards of the castle, headmaster."

 

Peverell ignored the way the blonde rolled her eyes at him and shot her a cheesy grin. Then he inclined his head ever so slightly towards the headmaster: "But then again, you know what they say about young love, don't you, sir? It's supposed to be the most powerful magic there is."

 

"Indeed, my boy." Albus smiled genuinely: "A force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than forces of nature."

 

Perhaps he only imagined it, but he could swear to have spotted a flicker of irritation hovering behind the boy's green orbs, yet it passed just as quickly as it had appeared. 'What could that have been?' 

 

Albus was certain that both Harry Peverell and Marlene McKinnon knew what happened, but that neither would tell him anything: "I thank you for your help, nonetheless. You best get going to the Ravenclaw common room now."

 

"I apologize for being unable to help you, sir." Peverell shot him another charming smile while the couple interlocked their fingers: "Have a good night, headmaster."

 

"But you did help me, my boy." Albus nodded slowly as he watched them depart the corridor: "Witnessing young love will always brighten an old man's day."

 

September 15th, 1996

 

"Reveal yourself!" The Dark Lord trailed the tip of the pale yew wand over the piece of parchment and hissed in Parseltongue. What looked like an ordinary missive to a relative changed as the letters rearranged themselves into different words and sentences.

 

The Chamber of Secrets has been recently opened by someone, Salazar's Monster was killed. Either a second Parselmouth roams the halls of the castle or there is a wizard, skilled enough to bypass the protections on the Chamber. The intruder survived the traps I prepared for him. He used sorcery unknown to me to permanently hide the bathroom and therefore the entrance to the Chamber. Any efforts to circumvent those impediments have failed.

 

Tom

 

The letter burned to ash before his eyes and it took his utmost willpower not to unleash his anger and have the rest of the room turn to ash as well. He forced himself to remain calm and recall every piece of information he just read. Yet, the Dark Lord's head spun with questions.

 

His ancestor's Chamber, a secret that among a millennium of students including dozens Parselmouth only he had ever found, had been discovered by someone else. 'How?'

 

The Dark Lord knew not, but he recalled the words his younger self had sent to him. 'Either a second Parselmouth or there is a wizard, skilled enough to bypass the protections...'

 

Voldemort knew there might be a second Parselmouth hiding someone in Britain at this very moment. However, the thought that said person might be a student was laughable. No child could have been able to bypass the protections on the Gaunt Shack. No child had the strength and cunning to kill a thousand-year-old Basilisk. No child would be able to escape the traps his younger self will have prepared for him down in the Chamber. 

 

'No!' Someone far more powerful and skilled was behind all of this, the Dark Lord was certain of that. The fact that said individual managed to hide the entrance to the Chamber, the very bathroom he murdered the mudblood girl in, supported his train of thought. 

 

He was dealing with a very powerful wizard, someone who had knowledge on Horcruxes, he could have only gotten from the Dark Lord's former head of House and potions teacher. 'Horace Slughorn.' Perhaps the man's oldest colleague then? The crooked-nose muggle lover?

 

Undoubtedly, Albus Dumbledore was the only wizard in all of Britain who might be capable of the many feats he had just listed. The headmaster was also the only one who might be able to manipulate the wards of the school to permanently hide the bathroom from students. It was certainly far more likely than assuming they had been performed by a mere student.

 

Still, Lord Voldemort was not naive enough to believe his first assumption to be correct. He needed to learn more about this mysterious new enemy. He walked over to his desk to grab parchment and quill: 'You took something valuable from me, so I will do the same.'

 

Our enemy shows cunning and strength, yet Lord Voldemort is nothing if not patient. Find out the identity of this intruder or pressure him to reveal himself, by attacking the mudbloods without the Monster's aid. The Chamber is our realm and rightfully ours, we will not tolerate being banished from it. I have hidden something within the castle that will help you identify and bypass whatever magic has been used to conceal the entrance -

 

The Dark Lord paused briefly, the tip of the quill hovering above the unfinished letter. Could revealing the hideout of another Horcrux be a mistake? Surely not. Both his anchors now had a common enemy they desired to destroy. Nothing could stop them once their cooperation was ensured. However, detailed instruction and additional protection on the letter will be necessary... His lips curled into a cruel grin and he continued:

 

-To find it, you will go to the seventh-floor corridor and…

 

The quill paused again as the Dark Lord frowned… He skimmed through his memory but no matter how hard he tried to remember; he could not think about where he had actually hidden his Horcrux on the seventh floor. 'How was that possible?' How could the memory of the event simply disappear?

 

He clearly remembered leaving Dumbledore's office and walking past the ridiculous tapestry. He also remembered that by the end of the day he had felt excited about having found a perfectly secure hiding spot for his horcrux. However, the Dark Lord couldn't for the life of him remember where exactly it had been hidden.

 

It was an issue he would ponder over at a later time. For now, the Diary needed instructions.

… There is a room on the seventh floor, a special, hidden room. Find the room and retrieve a silver tiara from within it. It will provide you with the means to outwit our enemies once and for all…

 

September 17th, 1996

 

"Today will be a more practical lesson and a small break from our ongoing project on the Dementors."

 

The entire class looked up in excitement as Bletchley walked into the classroom from his office. For the past two weeks, they had spent each lesson discussing the foul creatures and their 'benefits' to society. The lessons had been even more boring than his time with Lockhart in his second year. At least back then, Harry had some action when the fraud released a bunch of wild pixies on them and left the class.

 

"I have been told that you studied various simple jinxes and curses during your OWL year, the disarming charm being one of them." Bletchley's eyes scanned each student, resting a tad longer on Harry just as they always did: "I wish to see for myself how proficient you are. Today you will partner up and cast the disarming charm on one another."

 

"I will get you this time, Harry." He could almost feel Marlene's grin on him as the blonde whispered in his ear. 

 

"Bring it on then, love." Harry had taught her some dueling skills during the end of last term and summer. The thought that either of them would fall to something as simplistic as a disarming charm was laughable.

 

"Not so fast!" Bletchley shook his head as the students got up to partner with their favorite friends and housemates: "I will do the pairing to ensure everyone is evenly matched!"

 

A disappointed groan echoed through the classroom. Harry grit his teeth. He would have preferred to simply practice with his girlfriend, but there was no way Bletchley would let that happen. 'Not with the man's baseless dislike of him.'

 

"Mr. Black, Mr. Snape!" Sirius and Snifelus shot each other looks of utter revulsion as they got up from their seats and slowly walked towards the middle of the classroom.

 

Harry waited while the professor continued pairing the students to his liking. When Marlene was called upon to pair up with Elena Rosier from Slytherin, there was only Harry and Rupert Flint left.

 

'Definitely a relative of Marcus Flint...' Harry mused by the looks of the ugly sneer on the other boy's face.

 

"You will alternate between casting the spell." Bletchley explained his lips tucked into a cold grin as he watched Harry and Flint: "The one who is not casting will remain still and not defend himself!"

 

Harry was certain he must have misunderstood the professor. 'Was this a joke?'

 

"What?" James yelled from the back of the class, where he was partnered with some Ravenclaw: "This makes no sense, we should be allowed to defend ourselves!"

 

"Five points from Gryffindor for interrupting the class, Mr. Potter." Bletchley snapped: "You will do as I instructed or find yourself in detention with me for the rest of term."

 

He looked around over each pair with narrowed eyes: "The same holds for anyone else who thinks about challenging me. As your professor, I am fully within my rights to design this educational activity the way I prefer. This approach will ensure that the chances for injuries are minimized, and no students are harmed!"

 

None of the students, including the Slytherins, with the exception of Harry's partner, seemed happy with this solution. However, no one dared speak up. 'Bletchley never bluffed when it came to punishment.'

 

"The goal of the exercise is for each of you to master the disarming charm and be able to practice it in a risk-free environment. Your partner will return your wand to you after successfully disarming you, allowing you to switch." Bletchley continued his instruction and retreated to his desk: "Should I see anyone performing a spell beside the disarming charm, I will ensure that the person either spends months with me in detention or gets suspended for a period of time that reflects the severity of their breach!"

 

Harry grit his teeth trying to come up with a solution. He caught Marlene's worried glances from the other side of the classroom and the way her eyes dipped to his wand. 'He did not miss the meaning.'

 

The Elder Wand's allegiance was gained by taking it against its current wielder's will. The duel between him and Flint might be simulated, and the wand returned, yet Harry had no intentions of sabotaging his bond to the Death Stick by letting himself get disarmed. Unlike during his practices with Marlene, magic would always recognize his true intention, which was to avoid losing his wand to Flint at all costs.

 

'There was only one solution...' Flint had to fail in his attempts, no matter how.

 

"Partner one will begin on my command!" Bletchley shouted.

 

The Elder Wand slipped into Harry's palm and he lazily held it in front of his chest, the tip aiming at Flint. He caught something predatory in the Slytherin's eyes and knew the boy would enjoy nothing more than holding Harry's wand in his filthy hands and taunting him after. 'Not happening today!'

 

"BEGIN!"

 

"Expelliarmus!" Flint shouted and performed the correct wand movement, yet Harry had been faster. 

 

The Elder Wand moved a fraction of an inch, while Harry fired a silent, colorless spell. A very weak banishing charm connected with Flint's wrist. It pushed the boy's hand to the side, making him miss his target by a few feet.

 

Harry grinned as the spell fizzled over his shoulder and connected with the wall behind him. 'That worked even better than he could have imagined.'

 

"Return the wands!" Bletchley shouted: "Then you will switch partners."

 

Flint remained standing on the spot with a furious expression. He was the only one who had no wand to return to his partner and therefore received lots of stares and the occasional laughter from the other students.

 

"Begin!"

 

A bright beam left the tip of the Elder Wand just after Bletchley had given the command. It connected with the Slytherin's chest, disarming him in an instant. However, the knockback of the spell also pushed Flint backward by a few feet, making him almost tumble to the floor. Harry caught the wand mid-air, twirling the thin piece of wood around his fingers.

 

"Mr. Peverell!" The professor shouted and walked over to him: "What was that?!"

 

"The disarming charm, sir," Harry replied innocently and held up the boy's wand as proof: "It's relatively easy to identify thanks to the bright red beam and the manner in which my opponent lost his wand. Silent casting is an official NEWT requirement... Surely you will not discourage your students from practicing it, will you?"

 

The entire classroom was silent, watching the interaction between Harry and the teacher. James and Sirius shot him a thumbs up and laughed into their fists, while Lily and Marlene shot him concerned looks.

 

"Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Mr. Peverell." Bletchley scowled at him: "Everyone, return your opponent's wands and continue!"

 

Harry casually walked over to Flint while spinning the other boy's wand through his fingers. He took his position again and prepared himself to repeat the same technique once more. He did not miss the way the professor's eyes were zoomed in on him, watching his every move.

 

"Begin!"

 

Flint's orbs were squeezed together in a mix of anger and concentration. He waited for a second and took careful aim at his opponent:

 

"Expelliarmus!"

 

Harry grinned triumphantly as the spell missed him again, courtesy to Flint's wand pointing way higher up than the Slytherin intended to. He caught Marlene's amused expression and winked back at her. 'This was actually a rather useful technique.'

 

"Mr. Flint!" Harry groaned as he heard Bletchley's voice approaching them from the side again: "Is there a problem here? This is the second time you missed your target, Mr. Flint."

 

"Peverell did something to my wand!" The boy scowled and pointed at Harry accusingly: "I performed the spell perfectly."

 

"Perhaps you simply overestimated your aim, Flint." Harry shrugged his shoulders, the ghost of a smile on his face.

 

"Everybody, pause!" Bletchley instructed: "Nobody performs a spell until I say so."

 

'This was not good.' Harry frowned. He could imagine what might follow and prepared himself accordingly. Repeating his previous technique on the teacher was extremely risky and a one-way ticket into quite a lengthy detention. 

 

Luckily, nobody was looking, as everyone was too focused on the approaching form of the professor. The Elder Wand switched hands and Harry applied a strong sticking charm to his right palm. He tightened his grip around the wand after switching hands again, feeling how the rough wood almost fused with his skin. 

 

Bletchley's eyes narrowed on Peverell: "Let's see if there is in fact something wrong with Mr. Flint's wand or if Mr. Peverell here had simply gotten lucky. You will allow me to disarm you and not defend yourself, understood?"

 

Harry forced a neutral expression back on his face and nodded: "If you wish to do so, professor."

 

"Expelliarmus!" The man shouted.

 

Harry readied himself for the impact and repressed a groan as the spell connected with his torso. He was pushed back a few feet by the knockback and felt his wand almost being ripped out of his grip. However, in the end, the sticking charm and Harry's tightly curled fingers prevented the Elder Wand from switching owners.

 

The class was silent for a few seconds before the Marauders broke out in cheers and laughter.

 

"Impossible!" Bletchley cursed and stomped towards Harry.

 

The boy quickly canceled the charm on his palm and passed his wand from one hand to the other to show that there was no foul play. It took enormous willpower to hide the grin from spreading over his entire face: "I am certain I merely got lucky, professor."

 

"EXPELLIARMUS!" A voice boomed from behind him.

 

Harry's skin tingled and the hairs in his neck stood straight. He could almost feel the bright red bolt of lightning approaching him from behind. Years of being chased by Voldemort, dueling, and Quidditch training all came into effect as Harry reacted purely on instinct.

 

'Whoever the coward was, he would pay.' With almost inhuman reactions he spun on the spot and flicked his wand forward, batting the spell away from him and back to the sender with more than double the force it had originally been cast with. 

 

His attacker stood no chance. Rupert Flint leaped backward into the air as the beam of red light hit him. He was thrown across the entire classroom and crashed against the rough stone wall. Flint collapsed to the floor with a painful groan and lost consciousness moments after.

 

Multiple wands were pulled against him in an instant as the students in green roared in anger. Simultaneously, Harry found himself surrounded by the Marauders, Lily, Florence, and Marlene, who each had their wand trained at the opposing Slytherins.

 

"ENOUGH!" Bletchley roared: "Wands away, now!"

 

Harry was running high on adrenaline and felt like cursing the entire bunch, yet it wasn't worth it. He nodded to the people beside him and Harry's party slowly followed the instructions, not taking their eyes off of the Slytherins.

 

"You have ignored my instructions and injured another student in my class with a dangerous spell, Mr. Peverell." Bletchley shot him a cruel smile. It looked almost as if the man had instigated this entire interaction: "The headmaster will learn of this and you will be spending your time in detention every weekend for two-three months."

 

"You can't do that, sir!" Lily stepped forward; her freckled face was a mask of outrage: "Harry only defended himself!"

 

"Be quiet, girl!" Bletchley snapped at her: "Five points from Gryffindor for your disrespect, Ms. Evans, now sit down before I make it 50."

 

Harry quickly nodded toward the furious redhead to let her know that it was okay. He did the same to James and Sirius who both looked about ready to strangle the professor. Only Marlene was smart enough to practice some restraint. Still, by the way her ice blue eyes sparkled in anger, Harry could tell she was playing with the idea of joining his father and godfather.

 

"Take him to the hospital wing and make sure he is attended to by Madam Pomfrey!" Bletchley instructed three of Flint's classmates: "Peverell, you will remain behind after class so we can discuss the details of your disciplinary consequences."

 

"Actually, I don't think I will, sir." Harry walked back to his seat and picked up his school bag.

 

"What did you say?"

 

"I said that I will not remain after class with you, professor." Harry repeated himself: "I was attacked by another student after you explicitly expressed that no further spells were to be cast. Even then I followed your instructions and did not return fire with any other spell, but merely returned the disarming charm to its caster."

 

"You are lying, Mr. Peverell." The man's knuckles turned white as he flexed them: "Give me your wand! I will have it checked right now."

 

Harry chuckled dryly: "As much as you wish it to be, this is not the DMLE. This is a school, Professor Bletchley. You don't have the authority to confiscate wands, especially not without the permission of my Head of House or the headmaster."

 

"You have injured another student and cheated during the assignment!" The man growled threateningly: "If you're lucky the punishment will be detention and not outright expulsion."

 

"You have no proof of that and I have multiple Prefects in this class, who will all be able to confirm my side of the story." Harry inclined his head: "Feel free to take up the matter with Professor McGonagall. I am sure she will be interested to hear that so far you have not once discussed disciplinary actions against Flint even though he cast the curse."

 

"This isn't over, Peverell!"

 

"Then I will see you in the headmaster's office. Have a good day, professor." Harry finished with a grin and left the classroom.


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