The Web of Power

The same darn dream kept troubling him at night and exasperated, Harry woke up. He lay in his bed with his arm over his forehead, staring at the dark ceiling of his dormitory. The rest of the boys were sound asleep. Ron's snores were as loud as always. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he pushed himself out of the bed and walked over to the bathroom.

Half an hour later, Harry emerged from the bathroom, ready for the day. The boys were still asleep and as he looked out of the window, he discovered that the Sun was barely up.

With nothing worthwhile to do, he walked out of the dormitory and into the Gryffindor Common Room. As expected, the common room was also vacant and he exited through the door.

Aimlessly, he walked down the stairs, and his mind inadvertently went back to the dream he had the night before.

It was no different from his previous dream, albeit with one little change. In place of a silver-haired veela was a golden-haired young woman who could easily pass for a veela if only she had that allure.

Daphne Greengrass was an intriguing girl. She had always kept away from the usual inter-house politics or school rivalries. Instead, the girl focused on herself. She had no friends as far as he was aware, although she sometimes sat with a brunette named Tracey Davis. It seemed cordial though, nothing like the friendships he had seen between the others.

Greengrass always seemed to keep a low profile, never doing anything to stand out, and even though he knew she was a very capable witch in her own right, she never exhibited any prideful trait like Hermione was prone to do.

For her to approach him out of the blue had been surprising, but even more surprising was seeing how far she seemed to go just so that she could have access to the Restricted Section. It was definitely something private. She did not want even the professors to know what she was up to and the only reason he was even aware was because they had taken vows to help each other out. Harry was intrigued as to what her reason might be.

Furthermore, after seeing how much of his snark she was willing to tolerate, he could not help but wonder just how far she would go before she broke. Given the pride he knew pureblood heiresses always had, even his antics should have turned her away a long time ago. However, she was enduring it all, for the sake of whatever it might be.

In a way, she also reminded him of himself – socially isolated, friendless, and with a secret burden on the mind. She had her issues, and he had a dark lord baying for his blood.

Harry knew Voldemort was up to something, and there was no way it could be anyone but him behind his name coming out of that godforsaken goblet. He had gleaned enough from that dream of his before the school year began. Voldemort was planning something and he had a few people helping him with it. He had only recognized that fucking rat Wormtail in that dream of his, and there was that other man to consider as well.

He was currently entirely ignorant of their plans, but one thing was for sure. Voldemort planned to use this tournament to take care of him permanently. He knew he was not in a position to confront him directly so the coward has chosen this death trap to get rid of him. Unfortunately, Voldemort would find that he had no intention of letting it happen so easily. He was involved in this mess now. The least he could do to Voldemort's little challenge was to obliterate it entirely, and it meant crushing each and every task ruthlessly.

Alas, with all his preparations, he was still not where he wanted to be.

He pulled out his wand and recreated the ball of lightning as he walked. It stood as a testament to his control over his magic that he was able to keep it in such a firm shape. The tremendous mass of energy was concentrated in a small ball and Harry watched as it sparked oddly.

"Harry?"

Surprised, Harry canceled the spell and turned around. He looked up and saw none other than Professor Vector looking at him with a frown.

"Professor," he greeted politely.

"You are up early today," she intoned.

"Having a hard time sleeping properly these days," he replied.

He saw her sigh and look at him with a frown.

"I know things have not been how they should be, but if there is anyone I believe is more than capable of tackling this tournament, it is you," she said, taking him by surprise. "Since the first day you came into my classroom, I could see the ability you had. You have only gone further and solidified my beliefs. Trust me when I say that you will be just fine."

Surprised, Harry stared at her before letting out a rueful chuckle.

"Well, thanks Professor. That certainly makes me feel better," he replied. She didn't need to know just why he could not sleep as well as he needed to. Professor Vector smiled and nodded.

"I'll see you in the class then," she replied and Harry watched as she walked away.

He had had his first encounter with Professor Vector during his second year when she had spotted him reading up on rudimentary Arithmancy in the library. She had been surprised to see a second-year studying in advance. Truthfully, Harry had only started to do it because of his newfound resolve to become the best wizard he could be so that he could protect himself from those who meant him harm. Since then, she would occasionally find him in the library and would impart her knowledge whenever he asked or she felt like he needed it. When he joined the classes in his third year, she had started to give him additional work so that he was not left behind given the pace he was going at and he didn't slack off either. Fast forward a year and a half since his first meeting with the woman and Harry could confidently say that he was capable of scoring an Outstanding in his Arithmancy OWLs.

The same applied to Runes. Professor Babbling was an old woman whom he had approached in his second year and to say that the woman was surprised by his insight into the subject was an understatement. Just like Professor Vector, she too had taken to giving him additional work to do on his own and made sure he was not held back in the classes. They both believed it was their duty to encourage his obvious interest in their subjects and the one who benefitted the most for his efforts was none other than Harry himself.

In both the classes, he never stood out. Instead, he was content to sit and work silently while letting the usual loudmouth do what she liked to do best.

He had long surpassed the need for all that swishing and wand movements when casting any spell and could easily cast most of the spells non-verbally. He knew none of that mattered as long as his resolve and intent were strong enough.

He was powerful and he was a very capable wizard, but if he wanted to be the best, he needed to take certain measures that would ensure he became the best.

As he walked, he found himself in the third-floor corridor that was his new secret haven, although calling it a secret was a bit of a stretch. It was not as if it was hidden behind the Fidelius or something, but considering no one truly ventured here, it was secret enough.

At least the room he would be practicing in was secured enough by his wards, although he wished there was truly a secret room in the castle where he could go without worrying about anyone finding him or whatever he was up to.

Slytherin's Chamber came to mind, but that place was disgusting, not to mention the Basilisk's corpse that must be rotting by now.

Shaking his head, Harry walked inside the classroom and shut the door behind him.

"Guess the time has come, eh?" He muttered with a rueful chuckle as he pulled out a knife from his pocket and stared at it.

Glinting under the lamplight, the metallic black surface looked positively ominous. He had spotted it when he had emerged in Borgin and Burke's back when his floo travel had gone awry before the beginning of their second year and it was a year later when he went back to look for a few goods that could help him out.

It was nothing more than a ritual knife, although it contained Obsidian as well.

Obsidian was regarded as fire made stone, and it had cost him a little premium to purchase this knife over the standard ones available in the shady shop. However, this one had caught his fancy at first sight and that had been it.

Harry grimaced as he thought about what he was going to do. He had done a lot of thinking over the past year about whether he should proceed with this.

Rituals were tricky, and those that involved Runes were even more so. One small misstep and he could do irrecoverable damage to his body and his magic.

'Don't overthink. You need every advantage you can get,' he told himself.

He sent a powerful locking and privacy ward at the door. It was still very early in the morning and only the professors would be up, and what he was about to do had to be done in the early hours of the morning.

A flick of his wand conjured a small brush and he took a deep breath. Putting his wand to the side, he grabbed the ritual knife and held it against his palm.

A thin slice sent blood gushing outward and he quickly pressed the brush against it. Over and over he painted the runes on the floor with his blood.

He was not following any prescribed ritual from any book. Instead, he was employing his instinctive knowledge of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. He had discussed the root concepts with the two professors and Professor Babbling's words were still fresh in his mind.

"All the runes we know of today were once made by someone. It isn't as if the deity of magic itself gave us these signs. People invented runes. You shall be surprised to know how many runic signs even students have developed, although most don't work. That is because to create a working rune or a sequence, the laws of Arithmancy need to be followed. Even when all the laws have been followed, many runes do not take effect because either the caster did not have enough power or conviction to give them any meaning. As long as you do everything right, it is very much possible to create runes and give them meaning.

"Additionally, there have been cases wherein the caster's magic itself rejects the magic of the rune thus developed, leading to failure. That is why people mostly follow the runes that have already been developed and are worldwide accepted. That is because the magic that governs our world has developed an acceptance of those runes and it makes it easier for our personal magic to accept them."

Harry had not intended to carry this out, but knowing that Voldemort was seeking his power back and wanted to kill him in this tournament meant he could not afford to delay this any longer. He wanted to grow stronger to survive and if he had to endure a little pain for it then so be it.

Seven runes, drawn in a circular pattern on the floor with enough space for him to sit in the middle. Each rune signified an integral aspect of the ritual.

Commencement – signifying the start of the ritual.

A rune that would begin the entire process.

Approach – signifying the ritual's first contact with him.

The rune that would make contact with his body and his magic to both accept his sacrifice and bestow upon him the blessings he was asking for.

Offering – signifying what he was giving to obtain the benefits.

His blood. The pain he was enduring and would undoubtedly endure in the upcoming minutes. The scars he would bear on his skin for life.

Growth – signifying his development, both physically and mentally.

A rune to improve his physique and metabolism, making him stronger, enhancing his stamina and virility, and improving his mental fortitude.

Recovery – signifying his resistance to adversities and his power to overcome them.

Another rune to improve upon his already enhanced metabolism, making him able to recover quicker from both magical and non-magical injuries as well as making him resist any unwelcome probe into his mind. A rune to bolster his Occlumency manifold.

Stability – signifying balance and coordination.

A rune to ensure his body did not wither away under the might of the other runes. A rune to also ensure all the runes were bound in a way that they would not work in isolation but would coordinate their efforts to achieve the best possible outcome. A rune that made the entire cog move harmoniously.

Cessation – signifying the final binding of the runes on his skin and the closure of the ritual.

The final rune to end it all, ensuring the blessings were received and any debt was paid in full.

The moment Harry finished drawing all seven runes, he could not help but feel slightly apprehensive as he stared at the emerald glow the symbols were emitting. These were symbols he had painted on the ground and drawn while thinking of their particular purpose and the glow signified they had linked up successfully. There was only one complication that could arise now, and the only way for him to test it was to step inside.

Either his magic would accept the ritual, or it would reject it entirely. In either case, pain was going to be his companion.

Releasing a deep breath, Harry put the knife and the brush away and slowly shed his clothes until he was as naked as the day he was born. He was by no means scrawny but he was thinner than he should be.

Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his magic. Throwing all his hesitation out of his mind, Harry stepped inside the ritual circle.

As he had expected, pain was his companion. His skin prickled in the beginning before it began to burn. Spots on his chest, his back, his arms, and his legs began to cut open from the burning and he could feel his blood trickling down his body and feeding the ritual. All the while, he kept his teeth gritted to stop himself from bellowing out in pain and his eyes shut firmly.

The slight brightness he could feel through his closed eyes told him that the floor around him was burning and he would not be surprised if the room was truly lit up in flames. He did not let any of it faze him though and remained standing in the middle of the ritual circle, letting it take as much of his blood as it wanted while enduring all the pain it deemed he deserved for asking everything he had.

His whole body burned and he felt as if he had been set on fire but he did not cave in. The pain was tremendous but he had to endure it. The pain was temporary, but the boons he would receive would last forever.

Harry had no idea how long he had been standing – naked as the day he was born with a raging inferno of emerald flames surrounding him. The spots on skin that had burned off and were bleeding throbbed as the hot air hit them and all he could do was breathe heavily, forcing himself not to cry out in sheer agony.

Slowly, the flames subsided and Harry almost winced as the cold air hit the open burn wounds on his skin. The runes he had painted on the floor had vanished and were carved on his body. Two were on his arms, two on his legs, one on his back, one over his navel, and one right over his heart. The open red wounds throbbed and Harry winced as he opened his eyes.

He looked down and his eyes widened at the sorry sight of his body. The wounds were truly out in the open.

"Was it all for nothing?" He whispered to himself. "No, my body's changed."

And it had indeed changed. Gone was his thin frame. He had grown a few inches taller, reaching his optimum height, and had filled out significantly. He was in no way a bulked-up individual but he certainly looked muscled enough. The abs and packs on his front were new, and so were the broad shoulders and wide arms he now sported. All in all, he looked as if he had been maintaining a solid fitness regimen for a few years now.

"This should also work then," he whispered to himself and willed for his wounds to heal. His eyes widened when fumes arose from all the gashes and wounds on his body and he watched as fresh skin slowly healed up everything. Mere seconds was all it took for his body to be returned to its new, unblemished state.

However, there was no hiding the rune engravings at every spot where the wounds had been. Those engravings looked like new skin that grew over any other wound on one's body, making the skin lighter than the bit around it. All the runes looked very much like the one he had on his forehead – faint lines colored lighter than his usual skin.

"Very small price to pay for it all," he said in satisfaction as he flexed his arm. He felt physically much stronger than before and his healing was quick as well.

He was confident that Voldemort had done something like this as well. Probably that's why he never got physically hurt no matter how much damage he suffered.

He was not on the dark wizard's level yet but he was sure this ritual had somewhat bridged the mammoth of a gap that existed between them.

Harry walked over and redressed. He put the knife away and holstered his wand before looking around. The room looked entirely unimpressive and no one could tell that a ritual had taken place inside it mere minutes ago. Even then, Harry reached out with his newly enhanced magical senses and found not even a trace of anything.

The Sun was also significantly higher than it had been when he started the ritual and he soon discovered he had been enduring that torture for over an hour. He had almost lost all sense of time, it seemed.

Patting himself all over to make sure nothing else throbbed, he nodded and walked out of the room. The ritual had taken a lot out of him and he was bloody famished. A stop at the Hogwarts kitchen felt like a nice way to properly start the day.

-Break-

Classes were not mandatory for him anymore and Harry was fully intending to use that perk to its fullest. He spent the entire day in the room practicing his magical control. He chose to abstain from casting many spells and instead conjured the small ball of lightning. He wanted to compress it as much as he could, forcing it to get smaller while channeling even more magic into it.

To his satisfaction, he achieved more progress than he had in any of his previous tries. The ball glowed a shade of otherworldly white and it still sparked but the size was almost half of what it had previously been. Overall, a very visible progress.

His Occlumency had also improved exponentially. The ritual did not create stronger shields around his mind. Instead, it blurred his memories entirely. In case someone tried to take a peek into his mind, they would be lulled into a false sense of security when they wouldn't encounter any shields but the memories would be entirely unreadable. Only he could decipher everything he knew, making any mental intrusion redundant.

He had also read up on several combat spells once he was done practicing magical control. The Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library consisted of many books that were worth their weight in gold and more. The book he was reading was a nasty one.

For one, it had a thick metal chain to contain it. The moment Harry opened it first, the book's pages morphed into the face of a man and it roared in sheer rage. Harry had almost dropped it the first time he had held it open.

That had been it though, and for the past couple of hours, he had been reading up on spells that were borderline dark, at least in the conventional sense. He could not care less. The spells might derive power from negative emotions but at least those emotions were not as vile as the ones required to cast the Unforgivables. That made them fair game in his opinion.

Brandishing his wand, Harry shut the book and aimed at the wall he had enforced with his magic. Hopefully, the wall would sustain what he was going to throw against it.

He did not bother with wand movements or incantations. He visualized what he wanted to happen in his mind and thrust his wand forward. A malicious gray bolt of energy collided with the wall and fizzled away.

It seemed the enchantments were holding, but it didn't let him see what the spell truly did. The color did indicate that he had cast it successfully though.

"Avis," he muttered. A small bird appeared in front of him and immediately took flight as if knowing what was about to come.

It didn't matter. The little bird was against someone who was regarded as one of the best seekers to grace the Hogwarts pitch in the past few decades. Harry quickly aimed and fired the curse just as the door opened.

Daphne's eyes widened as she stared at the sight of a small bird as it exploded mid-air. Bits of its flesh, blood, and feathers all slowly scattered all over the floor. Harry idly waved his wand and cleared the mess.

"Are you going to keep standing there?"

Daphne was suddenly jolted out of her shocked stare and she turned to look at him. Harry had already turned around and taken his seat back against the wall.

Releasing a breath, the blonde shut the door behind her and pointedly avoided the spot where the bird had fallen moments ago as she walked over to where she had sat the previous day. The books Harry had given her to research were in her bag and she pulled them out.

"I hope you're done with what I asked you to do?"

Daphne looked over and sighed.

"Each tournament in the past had three tasks, and every time, the first task involved a powerful magical creature. The champions had to outmaneuver the creature to retrieve a treasure."

"A treasure hunt? Seriously?" Harry scoffed.

Daphne rolled her eyes.

"I'd take it seriously if I were you, Potter," she informed. "The creatures involved are always dangerous. Last time the tournament was held, a cockatrice went on a rampage and killed all three champions including a large portion of the audience."

Now that shocked Harry. A cockatrice was a rooster-like creature with a lizard's tail and it was a massive creature, not to mention overwhelmingly dangerous.

"Well…" he muttered after a long pause. "I hope they've learned something from it and won't go over and beyond like that."

Daphne gave him a sympathetic smile.

"You truly expect them to?"

Harry scoffed. He truly didn't. For all he knew, they would pit them against dragons or something.

"That makes things complicated," he muttered under his breath. The ritual he had done might have strengthened him physically while giving him a healing factor, but it had by no means made him invincible. He could very well die in the first task itself if things went badly.

"Potter," Daphne said supportively, having seen the concern on his face. "Don't overthink. I promised to help you out with the tournament, right? You can rest assured I'll find out what creature you'll be facing."

Harry leaned back and closed his eyes as he stared upward.

"I still will have to take care of whatever monster they've got for us. Once was enough already," he muttered.

"What do you mean once was enough?" Daphne asked curiously.

Harry opened his eyes and glanced at her with a rueful chuckle.

"Got rid of Slytherin's Basilisk back when the Chamber of Secrets was opened," he answered truthfully, chuckling when her eyes bugged out.

"You're fucking with me!" She exclaimed aloud. Harry laughed.

"Being honest," he replied. "Bastard bit me as well. I'd be a goner if not for Fawkes. That's Dumbledore's phoenix. Bless that guy. I owe him my life."

Daphne stared at him as if he would keel over and die in front of her.

"I don't even know what to say," she muttered. "You've got to tell me about these little adventures of yours one of these days."

"I've got to, huh?" He chuckled. "We'll see. Meanwhile, here you go."

Daphne stared at the book he levitated over to her and as she turned it over, her eyes widened.

"I've got no clue why you want a book like that or what you're doing, but you better not do anything to hurt someone innocent, Greengrass," Harry said warningly. Daphne looked over at him and nodded.

"You don't need to worry about it, Potter. I'm not going to hurt anyone."

Harry looked at her and nodded curtly.

Meanwhile, Daphne opened the book gingerly and flipped the pages. It was a thick tome, easily over a thousand pages, and it would easily take her a few weeks to properly go through it. She could only hope she found what she was looking for, although something told her it was going to be a monumental task for her. Yet, she had to persevere. Nothing less will do.

Harry read through the tome, studying a few more dangerous spells that would certainly come in handy now that he had some idea of what the first task of the tournament would entail. If only he could get to know which magical creature he would face. That would go a long way in helping him figure out a solid strategy to take it down.

He also could not help but wonder just what Greengrass wanted that book for. It was an obscure one and dealt with rituals. She didn't look like someone who would try to conduct one, and considering what he had seen when he had perused through it, all those rituals dealt with some sacrifices, either big or small. He wondered what could be so important for her to have an interest in a book like that.

He did not think she would be very forthcoming with a reply should he ask her either. They barely knew each other and this little partnership of theirs was only that – a partnership for mutual gains. They were not friends or anything else and he doubted she would tell him anything. After all, he wouldn't tell her anything important about himself either.

Speaking of a partnership with mutual gains…

"Greengrass," he called out without looking up. "Got any gossip from Slytherin for me?"

Daphne looked up in surprise. She found him reading some book which he looked up from when she didn't reply.

"Well?" He asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Uh yeah," she replied. "I don't know what it is, but Malfoy's up to something. He's been talking to a few upper-year Slytherins. I'm sure he's planning something. Don't worry. I'll dig into it and keep you informed."

Harry nodded and Daphne looked back to the book she had just received from Harry, gingerly turning the page. What she was unaware of, as she had been all the while since she had arrived in this room, was the lingering stares from the only other person in the room.

He didn't know what it was, but he found he could barely keep his eyes away from her. It had begun the moment she had arrived in the room. His eyes had traced her entire porcelain face, from her lovely blue eyes surrounded by long eyelashes to her pretty nose and those soft, juicy lips that he had dreamed of the night before. She had not noticed, shocked as she had been at the sight of a blown-up bird.

Since then, he had been discreetly checking her out, almost instinctively at that. His eyes took in the curve of her neck and how the strands of her luscious blonde hair clung to her skin and the soft sheen of sweat that covered it.

When she had turned away, he could not help but stare at her pert round rear that looked tighter in her Hogwarts uniform than it ever had. He also could not help but wonder how it would feel to grab those cheeks in his hands and he felt himself wanting to see if her ass was as tight and firm as it looked inside her skirt.

His eyes slowly drifted downward to her long, toned legs that seemed to stretch on forever. He was sure she could be a very successful ballerina if she wanted to. She certainly had the figure and the legs to go for it. As he took in her legs encased in a pair of translucent black tights, he could not help but wonder how soft they would feel in his hands and how nice it would feel to have those legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded her.

The moment she sat down, he had a nice view of her tits inside her Hogwarts shirt and he could see how they seemed to slightly stretch the fabric outward. The outline of her tits against her shirt was easily noticeable and he had already gotten a very good idea as to how big she was. Just as it had been with her rear, his hands itched to reach out and grab those luscious melons and fondle them to his heart's content. Furthermore, he could not help but wonder how good her nipples would taste.

All the while, Harry had been sporting a raging boner that refused to go away, and for the past few minutes, he had been actively trying to think about every gross thing his mind could conjure. Not even the disgusting image of Vernon and Marge making out could take care of it this time.

His body was hot and time and again, he felt his eyes getting pulled to her ass and her breasts. He also stared at her legs a lot and he could not help but squirm slightly whenever she twirled them about. He almost lost it once when she pulled her leg out of her shoe and flexed her toes to stave off the stiffness in them and he almost wished to give her toes a rub and perhaps even more.

He avoided eye contact with her whenever they conversed, or at least he tried to while also doing all he could to act as casually and as normally as possible. He was sure she must have noticed something but she had not commented on it. He was absolutely fine with that.

He had his face buried in the book but he was by no means reading anything. He was instead thinking furiously about what was wrong with him.

He had never felt this strongly before. He knew he had quite a libido even though he was a virgin but this was something else altogether. It felt as if his lust had been enhanced beyond limits.

Beyond limits… His eyes widened as he stared at the book with unseeing eyes.

The ritual… There was no other explanation. He thought about the runes all over his body and the meaning of one made him freeze.

The Rune for Growth. It also increased his stamina and virility, which could also mean an increase in sexual prowess, lust, and overall sexuality. All those directly contributed to a heightened sense of arousal. That was why he was seeing her in an entirely new light and why he was feeling these urges.

It felt constricting. It made him feel trapped inside his own body. And it made him yearn for a release. For the entire day, he had holed himself inside this room without any human interaction and his lust had heightened considerably to such a level that right now, he was seeing Daphne Greengrass as nothing more than the sexiest woman to ever exist.

His manhood hardened to full mast as he looked up and stared at her delicious curves once again. However, this time, Daphne looked at him as well and their gazes locked.

It felt as if time had slowed down as Harry's eyes, full of pent-up lust, met Daphne's inquisitive ones. He saw her eyes slowly widen as she stared at his face and how she leaned back slightly as he slowly stood up.

With slow, purposeful steps, Harry walked out of his seat and stepped toward her like a hunter stalking his prey. The said prey could only stare, utterly shocked, at the sight of his formidable figure as he came to a stop right in front of her.

TBC.

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