Stormseeker: Borrowed Destiny

The day after arriving back at Hogwarts, Dumbledore calls me into his office. Ah, he must be intending to speak with me about something important. Perhaps my performance last year was less than spectacular, but I'd like to think that I at least managed to accomplish something. I did prevent the Dark Lord from getting his... um, protoplasm? on the Philosopher's Stone, after all. Even if it was by dying repeatedly, having Neville tell Snape, and then passing out for three days. Okay, yeah, not my most shining moment, I'll admit. This year will be better, I'm sure.

"My boy," Dumbledore begins. "Are you aware that there is a dragon being kept in the Forbidden Forest?"

My heart sinks. So that's what this is about. It's just my luck that I paid off Draco to keep quiet, and the dragon got found out independently anyway.

Well, I'm not about to start lying to Dumbledore. I look him in the eye and say, "Yes, sir."

"Are you aware that dragons are illegal to keep in Britain?" Dumbledore asks.

"So I have been told, but I have not seen the actual wording of any relevant laws," I reply.

Dumbledore sighs, and gives me a disappointed look that practically turns my bones to jelly. "You are fortunate that young Mr. Malfoy came to me with this information, rather than having his father report it directly to the Ministry."

My heart manages to sink even further. I gape at him. Draco betrayed me?

Dumbledores goes on, "The dragon will be quietly relocated to a preserve in Romania where it will be taken care of by trained handlers. You, however, will need to be punished for this indiscretion. I believe another year of detention with Professor Snape is in order."

I swallow hard. "Yes, sir," I say quietly. I don't look him in the eye and keep my Occlumency shields firmly up as best as I can, for whatever hope I have of keeping the likes of Dumbledore out. I don't want him to find out that I gave James Potter's invisibility cloak to Draco Malfoy. It's shameful enough as it is.

Losing Norbert is more of a blow to me than the detentions. I'd expected them to find another excuse to give me another year of Occlumency lessons. I've been getting better at it, but I still have a good ways to go before I master the talent.

And Draco. Damn it, Draco. Why did he have to betray me? I gave him everything he wanted. I never could consider him a friend, not after Halloween, but I thought I could trust him. I thought he would keep his word. Does honor mean nothing to the purebloods of this world?

That all aside, I try to stay optimistic and look on the bright side. I'm still looking forward to Lockhart's Defense class this year. Certainly he will be better than Quirrell was. You'd think someone possessed by a Dark Lord might be able to demonstrate battle magic effectively. But if these books are any indication, Lockhart sounds like a complete badass. This year's Defense class is going to be awesome!

When our first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Gilderoy Lockhart comes along, I'm practically bouncing in my seat with excitement. He's handsome, skilled, and powerful, what's not to like?

"Welcome, welcome, everyone," Lockhart says. "I see you've all bought my books. Excellent. I'm going to start out our lesson with a little quiz, to see how well you've read them." He hands out papers. "You have half an hour. You may begin."

I pull out my quill and look down at the test, expecting to see questions about werewolves and vampires. Instead, it appears to be a bunch of inane questions about Lockhart's favorite color, birthday, ambitions, and so forth. Every single question is about Lockhart. I frown a little. Surely there must be some reason for this? Ah, perhaps he's just testing reading comprehension and attention to detail.

Unfortunately, although I've looked through his books thoroughly, I can't remember these sorts of details. I'm totally going to fail this test. Glancing surreptitiously around the room, it seems I'm not the only one who looks stumped.

Well, no help for it, then. I don't care to go guessing and rely on chance to get something right and make a fool of myself in the process. I turn my test over and put my quill away, and sit back to wait quietly for the half hour to end.

"Not doing the quiz, Mr. Potter?" Lockhart says, coming up to me.

"I don't know any of the answers," I reply. "My apologies, sir."

"Very well," Lockhart says, taking the paper away.

"Neither do I," Ron admits, following my lead.

There are murmurs of agreement from around the room, and after a minute, the majority of the class have given up on the quiz already, with only a handful of stubborn holdouts doing their best to answer. Although as some of them look positively gleeful, I'm guessing those are probably big Lockhart fans that have already memorized the books.

When the test is over, Lockhart collects the quizzes of those who actually bothered answering the questions. "A very disappointing turnout, all in all," Lockhart says. "Did most of you even read my books?"

"I read them," I protest.

"No matter," Lockhart says, waving his hand dismissively. "Let us move on to today's lesson. We will be learning about a very deceptively dangerous creature today. Do not let their appearance fool you, for they are quite vicious."

He pulls the cover off of a cage at the front of the room, revealing a number of rather irate little blue pixies inside, clamoring to be let loose. Wait, today's lesson is pixies? Well, maybe they are really as dangerous as he claims they are. I suppose he wouldn't be introducing a dragon to a group of twelve year olds.

"Cornish pixies, freshly caught," Lockhart says. "Remain calm, and do not scream. These are foul, devilish creatures."

Seamus can't help but laugh at this. "They don't seem very dangerous, do they?"

"Don't they?" Lockhart says, wagging his finger at Seamus. "Do not underestimate them." He goes over to open the cage. "Let's see how you can deal with them, shall we?"

Lockhart lets the pixies loose into the room, and they shoot out in all directions and proceed to wreck havoc upon the room. They knock over ink bottles, shred loose paper, shatter the window, and attack the students. Okay, maybe Lockhart has a point. I try to bring to mind a spell that might help against them.

"Flipendo!" I cry, pointing my wand at the nearest pixie. The blue bolt of my Knockback Jinx flies past the creature and strikes the ceiling, only succeeding in mildly annoying my intended target.

"Having trouble? They're only pixies." Lockhart raises his wand and proclaims, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"

Whatever the spell was supposed to do, it doesn't actually do anything. Several of the pixies proceed to assault Lockhart, grabbing his wand and snatching at his clothes, prompting him to take cover under his desk.

I sigh as I behold this sight. The brave, handsome hero, cowering underneath a desk at the sight of pixies. I can understand the students not knowing how to deal with them, but why would he bring in a creature that he couldn't control himself? My estimation of him plunges through the floor in disappointment. I suppose this leaves it up to me to do something about this.

I try throwing every spell I know that might possibly help at the rampaging pixies one by one. After some trial and error, I find that the Freezing Charm, Immobulus, is pretty effective at stopping them cold.

Neville is being harassed by a pair of pixies, who have lifted him into the air by his ears. "Wingardium Leviosa," I say, aiming my Hover Charm at Neville. He's a bit of a large target, though, and all I manage to do is lighten him somewhat. I frown a little. No help for it. I carefully take aim and pick off the two pixies with Freezing Charms. Neville descends to the floor slowly.

"Thanks, Harry," Neville says.

"Can you give me a hand rounding these things up, Neville?" I say. "Just grab the frozen ones and shove them back into the cage."

"Alright," Neville says.

Ron follows my lead and starts freezing pixies left and right, and Neville scoops them up and puts them away. After the three of us have cleared away the pesky attackers, Lockhart tentatively looks out from underneath his desk to see if it's safe.

"Well done, boys!" Lockhart says. "Five points to Gryffindor for a splendid show of skill and bravery!"

I snort softly and make sure that the pixie cage is tightly secured so that they aren't getting out again. In fact, I murmur, "Colloportus" for good measure. If someone can't dispel a Locking Charm cast by a second year student, they certainly shouldn't be letting these pixies loose. That was just plain irresponsible. I'd be more willing to give him the benefit of the doubt if he'd actually managed to do something.

"Professor Lockhart, who collected these pixies for today's lesson?" I ask.

"Why, I caught them myself, of course," Lockhart says.

I give him a flat look. "No, really. Your bold spell did nothing, and you were hiding under your desk. I don't think anyone in this room is going to believe that you did that. Was it Hagrid? Professor McGonagall?"

The bell rings, signalling the end of class and saving Lockhart from further questioning. "Oh, looks like we're out of time for today. Run along now, children. I'm looking forward to our next exciting class together!"

I glare at him for a few moments longer as the students begin filing out of the class before leaving silently with Ron and Neville.

"What a fraud," Ron says. "Can you believe him?"

"After seeing that, I'm starting to doubt that he even did half of the things he claims to have done," I comment. "If he couldn't handle a group of pixies, how am I supposed to believe that he could deal with yeti, hags, and so forth?"

"I'm just glad you were there, Harry," Neville says. "At least someone was able to figure out how to get those little devils off of me."

"Don't look at me," I say. "I just cast random spells until something worked. Ugh, what a disaster. I put a Locking Charm on the cage, by the way. I do hope, if he tries that stunt with the next class, that he can't manage to get it open again."

Ron snickers softly. "Good job, Harry."

In the Great Hall, I'm intercepted by a small boy, a first year, who is clutching a strange boxy device of some sort. "Alright, Harry?" he says. "I'm Colin Creevy. Could I get your picture?"

"Huh?" I say.

"If it's alright with you," Colin says. "Nobody will ever believe I met you otherwise!"

"I'm sure they would," I say. "I do go to this school, after all."

"Come on," Colin says. "Just one picture. Please? Everyone's told me all about you and how great you are."

"I'm sorry, I don't have any pictures on me," I tell him.

"No, no," Colin says. "I want to take your picture."

"Well, it's hard to take it if I don't have it, isn't it?" I say.

"I mean with this," Colin says, indicating the device in his hands. "It's a camera. Haven't you seen a camera before? They told me if I develop photos in a certain potion, it'll even make them move!"

"Oh," I say dumbly. "I see. Well, I suppose it's alright..."

"Maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you?" Colin suggests, offering the camera to Ron. "And then you could sign it afterward! That would be really great."

"Well, okay, sure..." I say tentatively, shrugging.

"Did I hear that right?" Draco Malfoy says, approaching us, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. "Harry Potter is giving out signed photographs?"

I give him a scathing glare. Betrayer. No, I must stay calm. I resist the urge to hex him on sight. "Sure, why not," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral. "You want one, Malfoy?"

"Hah," Draco says. "Everyone better line up for this!" He turns and raises his voice, announcing to anyone within earshot, "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos! Come get them while they're hot!"

"You're just jealous," Colin says to Draco, sounding more brave than he looks.

"Jealous?" Draco repeats. "Why would I be jealous? I don't think getting my head split open is much of an accomplishment!"

"Neither do I," I say. "Today I'm heralding my valiant defeat of a swarm of Cornish pixies. It's a pity that I didn't think to bring back a trophy. But I'll certainly be telling all about it in my upcoming book, Posturing with Pixies."

Ron practically chokes with laughter at that. Colin just looks confused, as if wondering if he should be impressed.

Draco smirks. "Oh, look, Weasley's a fan, too," he says. "I'm sure he'd also like a signed photo. I bet he could sell it for more than his house is worth."

"Oh, bugger off, Malfoy," Ron retorts.

"And why stop at photos?" Draco goes on. "You could sell signed wall-scrolls of yourself, too! I'm sure all your fans would just die for one. What's your little replacement Mudblood friend think of that, huh?"

I narrow my eyes at Draco. "What did you call him?" I say coldly.

"Well, you lost your last pet Mudblood, so you picked up another one, right?" Draco says. "You'd better keep a close eye on him and take good care of him, though, or he might just die on you."

Crack. I snap my wand up at him, and a bolt of lightning surges out of its tip straight at my enemy, without even a word spoken from me. The whole world seems blood red for a moment through the haze of rage. My mind barely registers Crabbe and Goyle starting throwing jinxes at me.

Professor McGonagall steps in and breaks up the fight. "Detention, Mr. Potter," she says.

I try to calm myself, and say through gritted teeth, "Did you hear what he said to me, Professor?"

"No, I did not," McGonagall says. "But whatever it was does not excuse attacking him, regardless."

"He," I say, taking a deep breath, "called Colin here my 'replacement pet Mudblood'. And advised me to be careful not to let this one die."

McGonagall's face darkens. "Mr. Weasley, Mr. Creevey, Mr. Longbottom, did Mr. Malfoy say such a thing?"

The three other boys nod their heads in agreement. "Right rotten thing to say," Ron says.

"Detention for you as well, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall says. "And twenty points from Slytherin for your vile comments."

"Why didn't Potter lose points?" Goyle demands.

"I believe detention is sufficient," McGonagall says. "As he was obviously provoked and it appears to have been accidental magic. I do not believe that he actually knows such a spell yet. And one more point from Slytherin for questioning my decisions, Mr. Goyle."

"Yes, ma'am," Goyle grumbles.

"Why did you do this, Stormseeker?" Snape asks me at my first Occlumency detention of the year. "Hiding a dragon out in the Forbidden Forest?"

"I really wanted a dragon," I say softly.

"I got that," Snape says dryly. "But why didn't you inform Dumbledore and I what you intended?"

"You would have let me keep him?" I say with a touch of surprise.

"Perhaps," Snape says. "Arrangements could have been made. Your peculiar connection to dragons could have made it a valuable asset. And yet you tried to hide it from us. Why?"

"I'm sorry," I say sheepishly, looking at the floor. "I wasn't really thinking."

"Look at me, Stormseeker," Snape orders.

I look him in the eye reluctantly. This is supposed to be Occlumency training, after all. But in my current state of emotional distress, it's difficult to keep my shields up. Anger I can handle, but guilt and despair? I fear I'm an open book to Professor Snape.

"You're right, your shields are terrible right now," Snape comments. "Why did you agree to that deal with Draco?"

"I thought I could trust him," I say.

"And yet you didn't think you could trust me and Dumbledore," Snape replies. "I could retrieve that cloak for you, but I will not. Let that be your lesson in taking care in who you trust and how far you can trust them."

"I didn't expect you to, sir," I say quietly. "It was my own mistake, and it won't happen again."

"I should hope not," Snape says. "I fear for the fate of the world if you are incapable of learning from your mistakes."

"Don't worry," I say. "I'll learn from my mistakes. If I get the opportunity, I'll even learn from other people's mistakes, too. Professor Lockhart is proving quite adept in demonstrating what not to do, for example."

Snape's thin lips curl into a smirk. "I would imagine so. I heard from my first year Slytherins that he was intending on unleashing a cage full of angry Cornish pixies upon them, but that he couldn't get the cage open to do so."

I can't help but grin broadly at that. "Is that so?" I say. As disappointed as I am about recent turns of events, I'll take my pleasure where I can get it. And I'll certainly take pleasure in outwitting an incompetent teacher.

"Indeed," Snape says. "A skilled use of a Locking Charm, I would imagine. But, of course, no mere student should be able to cast a spell like that which a teacher could not cancel. And Lockhart couldn't cancel it. I had to do it myself before disposing of the creatures. I'll put them to far better use as potions ingredients."

"They had it coming," I comment. "I imagine that Lockhart would be more useful as potions ingredients, too."

"Perhaps so," Snape says, smirking broadly. "But technically, any potions which require human ingredients are considered to be Dark in nature, and hence cannot be taught in class."

"Of course, Professor," I say lightly.

My regular detention, on the other hand, is even less pleasant. As it turns out, Professor Lockhart specifically requested to take my detention. And for what? In order to help answer his fan mail. I have to sigh as I trudge along to Lockhart's office.

"Ah, there you are, Harry!" Lockhart says, greeting me brightly. "Come on in. You can get started on addressing the envelopes."

"Yes, sir," I say glumly, taking a seat and pulling out my quill.

"Now, you'd best not expect that you'll get such a treat too often," Lockhart says. "Have to keep you on the up and up, after all!"

"Of course, sir," I mutter.

"Now, I hear you were handing out signed photographs at lunch last week?" Lockhart says. "Now, fame is a wonderful thing, but at your age, you must not let it get to your head. People won't look kindly on you for that. You must always be careful to properly cultivate your image."

"It wasn't really my idea," I protest. "A first year student wanted a picture of me. That's all."

"Fame is a fickle friend, my dear Harry," Lockhart says.

He proceeds to ramble on, giving me bits of advice, and I just decide to tune him out and murmur agreement in all the right places. I'm a Time Mage. I should get used to tedium at times. Just sometimes, I only ever hope to experience a particular brand of tedium once.