Harry Potter and the Unknown Power

The weeks melted in to one another as the weather grew cooler, and the air crisper. Harry and Neville had come to an uneasy truce; Neville was still angry at Harry for thinking he could be led so easily, and Harry was still shaken by Neville's outburst. Still, they played Exploding Snap several times a week, and chatted easily in the common room with no sign of uneasiness in any form. Hermione began including Neville in their evening study sessions, and as a result Neville's skill in Defense Against the Dark Arts was improving, and Harry's confidence in Herbology was likewise better.

On Halloween morning, Harry, Ron and Hermione came down to the Great Hall for breakfast, they noticed straight away the bats fluttering just above the heads of the students. Decorations covered the Great Hall, all fitting in perfectly with the Halloween theme. Hagrid's giant pumpkins lined the Hall, each carved with a different face, and large enough to comfortably seat four small children. Orange and black runners were draped down each table, and the House banners were missing, replaced by large banners of orange or black, with bats and pumpkins embroidered on it. The long trestle benches had been replaced by brightly colored chairs in red, blue, green and yellow. Most of the students were standing at the back of the Hall wondering where to sit.

"Good morning, students, in the interest of Inter-House unity, you will be seated in a chair with your house color. As you can see, no two chairs next to one another are the same color. You are encouraged to sit with those of another House today. We will repeat this exercise once a month," announced Professor McGonagall. A loud bang came from the table to the far right, normally the Slytherin table, "Please observe Mr. Goyle, attempting to sit in a chair that does not belong to you is not wise."

Goyle had tried to sit in a Hufflepuff chair next to Malfoy, and had been summarily ejected from it, and was now seen to be rubbing his backside.

Students soon began grabbing chairs, and Harry soon found himself in the company of Terry Boot from Ravenclaw, Susan Bones from Hufflepuff and Blaise Zabini from Slytherin. Harry looked around and saw Hermione sitting with a third year Slytherin he didn't recognize, Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff, and Luna. Ron didn't look too happy as he sat uneasily in his red chair with Anthony Goldsmith from Ravenclaw, Justin Finch-Fletchley from Hufflepuff and Millicent Bulstrode from Slytherin.

At first the conversation was limited to requests for food to be passed, but soon turned to homework and Quidditch.

Zabini, who had been very quiet, suddenly spoke up, "Is it true, Potter, that you never played Quidditch before you came to Hogwarts?"

Harry took a sip of his pumpkin juice, before he shook his head, "No, I never even heard of it before. That flying lesson in first year was the first time I had ever been near a broom that wasn't meant for sweeping the floor."

Zabini looked at him in disbelief over the rim of his coffee cup, "But you are so good! How did you manage it? How come you didn't know?"

"I was raised by Muggles. I thought you knew that?"

"Malfoy is always going on about your Muggle relatives, but I thought he was just having you on. I didn't think you had actually lived with them. I mean, the Boy-Who-Lived, raised by Muggles? It's too absurd."

"But true. My relatives subscribe to the Death Eaters party line, really, just twisted around. They think wizards are freaks, magic is abnormal and this sort of 'nonsense' shouldn't be allowed."

Terry, who had been listening intently, asked, as he reached for another rasher of bacon, "They think we are abnormal?"

"Actually, it's not that odd, when you think about it. We were all raised with magic, so living without it seems strange. Just turn it around, like Harry said, and imagine how different it would be to see magic for the first time. I can only imagine what you were thinking when you saw someone do magic for the first time, Harry!" said Susan, setting her spoon into her bowl of porridge. "My aunt took me to a Muggle cinema and I couldn't stop looking at all the things they had, pictures that didn't move, and these odd things sticking out of the wall that turned the lights on and off. It was so much fun!"

"I guess I've never really thought of magic as something special. I suppose to a Muggle it would be odd, or to lose it somehow would be devastating," said Terry slowly. He looked into his plate of scrambled eggs as though trying to escape the thought of being magic-less.

"Have you been to the Muggle cinema, Harry?" asked Zabini curiously.

Harry shook his head, "No, my relatives didn't really take me anywhere. I think they were a little afraid that someone would find out about me."

Terry was still looking at him a little strangely, "It's okay, Terry, most Muggles are clueless about magic, but there are some, like Hermione's parents who are very interested and very supportive of magic," said Harry, "C'mon, we are going to be late for Defense Against the Dark Arts if we don't hurry, maybe we will get to talk about this later?" Terry nodded slowly, still thinking, Harry met Zabini's eyes and was surprised to see him smile. Susan grabbed her things and followed Harry out of the Great Hall to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"I think that was a great idea, did you, Harry?" Susan said as she rushed through the hall, "We got to learn a little bit about one another and it didn't go too badly. I thought that someone might start hexing someone from a different House and it would be pandemonium, but it wasn't too bad."

"Yeah, Zabini is all right, seemed decent at any rate," Harry said. He kept thinking about Boot, though. He seemed quiet and watched Harry with that odd glint in his eye. Harry thought that perhaps some progress had been made.

Professor Leonard was standing in the doorway as they entered the classroom. "Potter, Bones, please take a seat. Class, this is Bill Weasley, a good friend of mine." Professor Leonard said, gesturing to a tall, familiar looking wizard at the front of the room. Harry had to smile to himself; Ron and Bill resemblance was almost uncanny. Harry could almost picture Ron in a few years. "Bill is a Curse Breaker for GRingott's Bank, taking some time off from the tombs of Egypt. He is here today to help demonstrate a duel, against myself, and then we will proceed to work with each of you to improve your grip and dueling stance. Ready to begin, Bill?"

The students pushed themselves to the walls and moved the desks aside, most eager for the demonstration. Bill and Professor Leonard saluted one another and almost immediately began firing spells at one another. Bill shouted some incantations that Harry thought might be Egyptian, while Professor Leonard seemed to move with unnerving ease, dodging spells and jumping, or ducking hexes. Overall, it seemed as though no one had a clear upper hand over the other. The duel finally ended in a draw, with Professor Leonard disarmed, but still dodging spells, with Bill no closer to hitting him than he was at the onset of the duel.

"All right, class," said Professor Leonard, breathing rather hard from the duel, "who would like to critique this duel? Miss Granger?"

"Bill fought well, he used a lot of unusual curses, and his aim was good. You seemed to favor athletic ability, physically moving from point to point, rather than trying to get Bill. You were wearing him down."

"And he was doing a good job of it. I don't think I would have lasted much longer, truth be told," laughed Bill.

"Exactly," said Professor Leonard.

"But why?" asked Ron, "Bill disarmed you, that should have ended the duel, right?"

"Well, yes, a formal duel would have ended when I lost my wand, but in a real-world situation, if you are conscious, you always have options. Make use of your surroundings. The best offense is a good defense. If you can get under cover, and still have an escape route, then stay put. If you lose your wand, but you can still use cover to get away, then do it. Defense isn't just about defensive magic -- it is more importantly about trying to stay alive."

A chill went around the room. Harry looked at everyone. These classes had always been more to him than just a grade. It was the knowledge of how to stay alive, and to keep his friends safe. It always had been. And now it was becoming that way for everyone else, too.

Everyone paired up again, and Professor Leonard and Bill went from team to team, adjusting stances and correcting wand grips.

"Potter, very good. I hear you started a Defense Club last year... I would be interested in doing that this year, a sort of Duelling Club and Defense Strategies. I have spoken to Professor Dumbledore and he agrees you are a good candidate for the job, if you want it. Bill has agreed to assist, and I will always be available if you would like some help. Do think about it, please," he said as he moved on to Dean and Parvati.

The bell suddenly rang, jolting Harry from his shock. He grabbed his bag and headed for the Potions dungeon, "Harry! Wait! So, are you going to do it?" asked Ron, taking long strides to catch up with his friend.

"I dunno, I figure I will ask everyone in our year in the common room tonight and see if anyone is even interested in doing it again. The only reason we had members last year was because Umbridge was a toad," said Harry doubtfully.

"It'll be brilliant, I can guarantee that Hermione, Neville and I will be there," said Ron cheerfully.

"Harry!" hissed Hermione, catching up from them and puffing slightly. "Look at this! I got the paper at breakfast, but didn't have a chance to talk to you about it before class," She held up a copy the Daily Prophet, with a bold headline, "Death Eaters Escape Azkaban!" Harry's heart sank as he took the paper from her, and leaned against the wall to read the article.

Daily Prophet -Death Eaters Escape! T.W.Jarvis

Late last night, the Azkaban ferry was found drifting along the coast, and the ferryman was declared dead at the scene. Muggle salvage teams were already towing the boat in when Ministry Law Enforcement arrived. "The Muggles hadn't boarded the boat, yet, though one gentleman did remark that it was odd that it didn't have any ekeltronical equipment," said one unnamed Ministry official. The ferryman's name has been withheld until the next of kin is notified.

What the Ministry discovered next, though, was by far more chilling. "We immediately scouted Azkaban Island, and found that the main entrance door had been blown off the hinges," said Kingsley Shacklebolt, 32. All the cells had been emptied. The Auror contingent on the island suffered many injuries, though no one was killed.

Of the fifty-three prisoners, twelve, all convicted Death Eaters, had escaped. "I may be a criminal, but I'm no killer," said an inmate under the condition of anonymity, "Them Death Eaters said they would take us with them, if we took the Mark. I didn't want anything to do with that."

Minister of Magic Amelia Bones has granted a six-month reduction in sentence for the prisoners who refused to escape with the Death Eaters, "I am sure it was a tempting offer, but I am glad that they chose not to join the Dark Forces. The Death Eaters who escaped are extremely high profile, and will be caught. Aurors are at this very moment searching for them. The community is urged to report any suspicious activity to the Auror Division, and not to go hunting for them on their own. They are considered armed and dangerous."

Harry groaned, "At least they seem to have it in hand."

"Mr. Potter." a cold, sneering voice called out. Snape, it seemed had appeared from the shadows near the door, and was now staring at the three of them with a twisted smile forming on his thin lips, "If you would be so kind as to be seated, I believe the class has adequately admired your countenance for today."

Harry's face flushed as he made his way to his work table where Ron was already sitting. Hermione was sitting at the next table with Susan. Malfoy cast a smirking glance at him from across the dungeon.

"Today, we will be brewing several simple draughts, the infirmary is in need of basic potions," as Snape handed out slips of parchment, "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, I trust you two can manage a few flasks of Pepper-Up Potion?"

Harry took the slip, "Yes, sir."

Snape looked at him carefully as if to find fault in his answer, before sweeping to the next table.

Harry and Ron pored over the slip and pulled out their books to verify the ingredients they would need. Both were determined to make the potion without a single mistake. They talked very little and focused on setting everything up first, "I saw this on a Muggle programme that Aunt Petunia likes to watch. The cook chops everything and puts it on little dishes, and then when they need it, they just put it in. No need to chop or anything at the last minute. I think we can do that with everything except the ginger...that needs to be grated at the last minute."

Soon, their potion was simmering gently, a vivid blue with a rolling bank of red smoke drifting over the lip of the cauldron. Ron held the grater and the ginger rhizome waiting, "All right, Ron, now!" Ron began grating the ginger quickly, the small yellow bits collected in a small bowl.

"Ow!" Ron said, "I think I grated a bit of my thumb, hurry, Harry, dump it in!"

Harry tipped the ginger into the potion and waited. In ten seconds it should turn red, with blue smoke, and then he could stir it counterclockwise five times and tap the cauldron gently twice. He waited, watching anxiously. The potion was still a stubborn blue and the red smoke seemed to mock him. He waited, holding his breath. Finally, after a minute, the potion faded to red, and the smoke seeped purple until it eventually cleared to blue. Harry sighed and stirred, then tapped the cauldron with the stirring spoon.

**BANG!**

Harry was on his back, staring at the ceiling, Ron had fallen in a heap across his legs. He strained to see behind him, and he could just make out a tangle of bushy brown hair. His last thought as the room faded to black was Shame that Snape won't be able to kill me; I think I managed it on my own.

***

It was dark, and though he couldn't tell for certain, he thought he was in the Forbidden Forest. He could hear the clicking of Acromantula pincers, and heard the unmistakable sound of hooves. He rubbed his arms, wondering where he mislaid his cloak. He began walking, not knowing where he was heading, hoping to find the castle.

"How did I get here?" He wondered aloud.

"Because I brought you," a voice from behind him said.

Harry whirled around and reached for his wand, but it wasn't there. He immediately felt vulnerable, and wondered who this voice belonged to, he felt like he ought to recognize it.

"I brought you here, because it was the only way. Dumbledore is human, and though wise, doesn't always understand. He wishes to protect you, and in protecting you, he has harmed you. Do you know why you are here?"

"No. Maybe. Yes. It's the Prophecy."

"Yes and because, you have powers the Dark Lord knows not. Dumbledore was right that the power is in your heart, but we now must teach you how to use it. Come with me." The figure reached out a hand and as Harry caught it in his own, he felt a not unfamiliar tug behind his navel and the Forest swirled out of sight.

Harry crumpled to the ground outside a large cottage somewhere just outside a small hamlet. "Where are we?" he asked.

"This is Godric's Hollow. There will be things that you will see tonight that are just memories, others are perceptions, and still others will be things that are happening as we watch. Each instance is to help you open your heart; each instance will make you stronger, though you may feel as though it is weakness. Indeed, the Dark Lord will try and make you believe that it is. Look," said the figure, as it pointed to the large window.

Harry stepped up to the glass and looked inside. He gasped as he saw his father, and mother, cuddling an infant Harry. His mother looked so young and so happy, as she rested her chin

on his father's shoulder, looking down and smiling at the dark haired baby on his lap. Baby Harry grabbed at his father's glasses and the three laughed. The older Harry smiled as he watched, wishing that there were more memories like this; his family together and happy. He thought he noticed a faint vanilla scent in the air, and smiled a soft, sad smile remembering his mother smelled of vanilla.

"Harry, this is unconditional love. The love between a parent and a child is some of the strongest bonds in the universe. It is boundless, immensely powerful."

"I felt it. When they, we, laughed together, I could feel it, I could almost remember it, that feeling of warmth and safety," Harry could hardly believe that the words were tumbling form his mouth so freely, but as he spoke he knew they were true. He felt uncomfortable that he would reveal so much of what he was feeling, but oddly, it didn't bother him as much as he thought it would.

"Come, we've many places to go," said the figure.

After another Portkey-like experience, Harry found himself at the play park in Little Whinging. He recognized the chubby blonde boy as Dudley, and his Aunt Petunia sitting stiffly on the bench, near the other mothers. He looked for his younger self and saw Little Harry playing quietly in the sand box with a few sticks. Dudley was busily trying to run the other children over with his shiny new tricycle. Dudley caught sight of him, and rushed the sand box, veering quickly and spraying the small dark haired boy with sand, before falling into the sand himself. Aunt Petunia was up in a flash, scooping up her wailing boy, leaving Harry to sort out the sand in his face. He watched as he, too, was scooped up by one of the other mothers. He vaguely remembered her, as he watched her clean the sand from his face, and check his eyes carefully for particles.

"Love from a stranger, compassion, empathy. These, too are aspects of love."

Harry and the Shadow, as he had come to think of the figure, traveled to different points in time watching memories. One that had especially moved Harry was of his first year, after he defeated Quirrel. He was lying so still under the blanket in the infirmary, he could scarcely remember being that small. Ron was sitting on one side of him, with a worried expression on his face; he reached out a trembling hand and pushed Harry's hair off of his face. Hermione slipped up behind Ron and put a hand on his shoulder, before reaching out and clasping one of Harry's hands in her own, then taking Ron's hand in her other one. Ron picked up Harry's other hand and though Harry didn't know it then, he knew it now. He was deeply cared for, even loved, by his friends.

Before he knew it, he was standing in the Forbidden Forest where he had first met the Shadow. "You've seen much, and felt much. I am sorry that it needed to be done so quickly, without time to think or absorb the lessons. Still, Dumbledore says you are an intelligent young man. I believe that once you have had some time to reflect that you will be able to discern how to put your power to use. I have every faith in you," the Shadow leaned towards him and though it was careful not to touch him, Harry felt as though he had just gotten one of Mrs. Weasley's fierce hugs, and thought he smelled vanilla. He closed his eyes, feeling perfectly safe, and slept.