Stormseeker: Borrowed Destiny

"So, Ravenclaw's secret heir still isn't speaking to you?" Draco says.

It's breakfast on Saturday morning, and Neville, Luna, and I are eating at the Slytherin table to get away from the nastiness in our own houses for a little bit. And to eat tasty food.

"That's right," I say, sighing. "I still have no idea what's gotten into her."

Pansy Parkinson comes over to sit across from us, and peers at us for a moment. "What did you do, Potter? Trade in the Gryffindor Mudblood for a Ravenclaw pureblood instead? At least you're finally showing some taste."

"I would prefer if you didn't badmouth my friends," I say.

"From what I've seen, she isn't even your friend anymore," Pansy says.

"She'll get over it, I'm sure," I say.

"And what's your problem, anyway?" Pansy says. "You say 'Mudblood' just as much as the rest of us."

I look at her in puzzlement. "What's that have to do with anything?"

Neville winces a little and says, "Most polite people say 'Muggleborn' instead."

I turn and look aghast at him. "That's horrible!" I say. "Why would I insult someone like that?"

"Er, I mean," Neville says, stammering a little. "'Mudblood' is the rude word. 'Muggleborn' is the polite one."

"That's so totally backwards it's not even funny, you know," I say. "Mudblood just means they've been mixing their blood around. Muggleborn implies that their parents were Muggles, and that's just horrible."

"Aren't they?" Blaise says, looking confused.

"No!" I say. "Muggles don't have magic. Muggles can't have magical children. They've all got to be descended from magical families in some way or another."

"I think I head a theory about something like that," Theodore says.

"Maybe she's upset because you call her a Mudblood all the time," Blaise suggests.

I shake my head. "I explained that to her last year, and no, that's not it."

"You sure?" Blaise says.

I sigh. "Yes, I'm sure."

After breakfast is the first session of the Dueling Club for this year. I'm excited about this, grinning like a fool. Hermione is so actively avoiding me at the moment that she's actually sitting with the Hufflepuffs this evening. I imagine that she wouldn't even be here at all if she wasn't afraid of missing the opportunity to learn something.

Snape gets up on stage and says, "Welcome, students, to another year of the Hogwarts Dueling Club. I am Professor Severus Snape, still your coordinator." There's applause from me and the Slytherins. "Although this year, I have Professor Gilderoy Lockhart as my assistant." There's applause from a number of other scattered people, mostly girls.

"Well said, Severus," Lockhart says. "Although perhaps it should be said that you will be assisting me instead."

"No, it should not," Snape grates. "Anyway. Tonight we will be giving you a demonstration of some of the spells we will be exploring in the Dueling Club this year. Also, I'm announcing that, with a full year of Dueling Club ahead of us, this year there will be a dueling tournament beginning in second term to determine the best duelist of each year. So practice and learn your spells well, because the competition will be fierce."

That sounds definitely exciting. Although, people are already looking at me as though it's a foregone conclusion that I'm going to win, even Draco.

"Potter shouldn't be allowed to compete!" Ron says aloud.

"And praytell, why not, Weasley?" Snape says, fixing a glare upon Ron.

"Because... um..." Ron stammers. "He'd totally win!"

"That is not a very persuasive argument," Snape says. "It would seem as though you have sufficient motivation to improve yourself. Do so, then, rather than complain that life isn't fair because others are better than you."

Draco snickers softly. "Yeah, Weasel. Hey, everyone. I'll bet any takers a galleon that Longbottom will beat Weasel."

"What!?" Neville says in alarm.

Ron just glares at Draco, and Snape clears his throat. "Now, if there will be no further interruptions, we will begin our demonstration," Snape says.

"Yes, let's," Lockhart says, drawing his wand and getting into dueling positions with Snape.

Once the duel begins, Snape says, "Expelliarmus!" Lockhart's wand flies out of his hand, although he remains standing on stage this time.

"Ah, very nice," Lockhart says. "That was the Disarming Charm, students. A good idea to demonstrate that spell, but it was very obvious what you were about to do--"

"Mimble Wimble!" Snape says. "That was the Tongue-Tying Curse."

I laugh, along with several of the Slytherins, but Snape is just getting started.

"Tarantallegra!" Snape says, and Lockhart begins dancing uncontrollably. "That was the Dancing Feet Jinx."

Now even Ron and some of the other Gryffindors are laughing, although Lockhart's fans look horrified at the display.

"Locomotor Mortis!" Snape says, and Lockhart's legs snap together. "And that was the Leg-Locker Curse."

Lockhart is waving his hands about frantically by this point and shaking his head, and Lavender says, "Oh, I hope he's alright."

"Petrificus Totalus!" Snape says, and Lockhart's arms press themselves against his sides. "And the Full Body-Bind Curse. That concludes today's demonstration."

I applaud, and call out, "Horray for Snape!" The Gryffindors look at me strangely as usual.

Snape takes the time to describe the effects of each of his spells in detail before bothering to release Lockhart. Lockhart, clears his throat, straightens his robes, and goes to retrieve his wand. "Yes, Severus, very nice, very nice," Lockhart says in a strained voice.

With the demonstration over, we're directed to pair off and practice for a bit. I hook up with Neville, as usual. He's been doing much better with my help and guidance, but he still has a long way to go.

"Tarantallegra!" Neville casts, and I find my legs dancing on their own.

"Good job, Neville," I say, grinning at him.

"Locomotor Mortis!" Neville casts.

My legs are suddenly locked in place. But they continue to try to dance. I fall over and barely catch myself with my hands to avoid falling flat on my face. A terrible pain shoots through my legs, accompanied by ominous snapping sounds.

"Finite Incantatem!" Neville exclaims, and my broken legs stop trying to move on their own. "Shit, I'm sorry, Harry!"

"All wands down!" Snape calls out, and the practice around the room ceases quickly. "I'll get that for you, Potter."

"No, no, let me do it," Lockhart says, approaching my prone form and getting to me first.

"No, Lockhart," I say. "Let Snape handle it. Get away from me--"

The world swims and blurs. I have no idea what spell Lockhart just cast, but my whole body feels like jelly. What did he do, vanish all the bones in my body or something? I try to move, but that was a mistake. I flop around on the floor in pain, gurgling a bit as I try to speak.

I can't even tell what's going on after a few moments, and the world fades away, thankfully taking the pain with it.

I wake to the sound of my rooster watch crowing. I'm in the Gryffindor dormitory. Wonderful, that means that Lockhart somehow managed to kill me again. Grumbling a little in irritation, I get out of bed and get dressed. I can at least be thankful that the Dueling Club is meeting on Saturday mornings rather than evenings.

"So, is Ravenclaw's secret heir still not speaking to you?" Draco asks at breakfast.

I sigh to myself inwardly. I'd really rather not go through this conversation again. "Muffliato," I mutter, giving us some privacy.

"What is it, Harry?" Neville asks.

"Lockhart killed me today," I say dryly.

"What?" Draco says in surprise. "How?"

"Completely by accident," I say, rolling my eyes. "At Dueling Club. I was practicing with Neville, and was on the floor after receiving a curse, and Lockhart thought that I needed his 'help'. And completely ignored my protests to the contrary."

"Oh..." Neville says sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

"Relax," I say firmly. "It was Lockhart's fault, not yours. You were doing exactly what you were supposed to be doing. Although, just to be on the safe side, you might want to cancel a curse before you cast another one when practicing. They can sometimes have unpredictable effects when combined. So only do that if you actually want to hurt someone." I have to wonder if Snape wasn't trying to hurt Lockhart, or if it was just Neville miscasting the spells. Neither would surprise me.

"Alright," Neville says, staring at his omelette. "I'm sorry I got you killed."

"Neville," I say. "Relax. It wasn't anything serious until Lockhart decided to butt in. You've been doing great lately, and I'm proud of you. Don't let fear hinder what progress you've been making."

"Alright," Neville says dubiously.

"Now, let's enjoy breakfast, shall we?" I say brightly, and cancel the privacy spell.

I hate to say anything that might discourage Neville, but I really don't need to be killed by Lockhart's ineptitude. After breakfast, as the students are gathering for the Dueling Club, I approach Professor Snape to speak with him for a moment quietly.

"Professor," I say. "Perhaps it would be a good idea to disallow Lockhart from possessing a wand during Dueling Club."

Snape raises an eyebrow at me. "Oh?"

"Yeah," I say. "If someone were to get hurt, he might think it's his duty to try to 'help' them, and unfortunately he knows just enough magic to be harmful." I roll my eyes in disgust. "Next to him, Neville is Merlin."

"I see," Snape says, lips quirking in a bit of a smirk. "I'll take that into consideration, Potter."

The Dueling Club session begins, and Snape welcomes us in and gives his announcements again. Ron protests, Snape retorts, Draco offers a bet, no real changes there.

"If that will be all of the interruptions we're having, let us begin our demonstration," Snape says.

"Oh, Severus," Lockhart says, looking up his sleeves and poking around in his robe. "Have you seen my wand?"

Snape smirks broadly and holds up the object. "Indeed I have," he says dryly.

"Ah, there it is!" Lockhart says. "Could you give it back?"

"I think not," Snape says, tucking it away into his robes.

"It will be difficult for me to assist in this demonstration without a wand," Lockhart protests.

"Yes, I'm afraid that I won't be able to demonstrate the Disarming Charm that way," Snape says. "Oh, but there's a solution to that." He pulls out a tube-shaped, soft, bright orange object. "I confiscated this from a Muggleborn student yesterday. It will make a suitable weapon for you."

Lockhart takes the foam wand dubiously. "I think I would prefer my wand back," Lockhart says. "But no matter. I have defeated far more fearsome foes under more restrictive handicaps than this!"

"Mimble Wimble," Snape says calmly, pointing his wand at Lockhart.

I cheer for Snape even more enthusiastically than I did last time. This solidifies it in my mind: Snape is officially awesome.

"Poor Lockhart!" Lavender says quietly. "Being humiliated like that."

"He won't even have a chance to show off his skills that way," Parvati says.

"Believe me, that is for the best," I comment dryly.

Once Snape's demonstration is over with, Lockhart is given his foam stick back after it had been disarmed. He grumbles a little and takes it, and says, "At least I can use it to help show the students the proper wand movements!"

"Please don't," Snape says flatly.

I pair off against Neville again, and say, "Alright, let's have a go at this. Cast away."

"Are you sure?" Neville says.

I smirk. "Relax, Neville," I say. "Go ahead and curse the crap out of me. Well, okay, I doubt you actually know any spells to literally curse the crap out of me, but never mind that. Just cast something. It's alright."

"If you say so," Neville says. "Tarantallegra!"

My legs twitch, and suddenly I start doing a slow waltz. "I don't think that was quite right," I say, chuckling. "Finite Incantatem. Try again."

Lockhart comes over to us. "Having trouble with the spell?" Lockhart says helpfully. "Allow me to demonstrate. Mimic my wand movements. Tarantallegra!" he says, waving his foam stick around wildly and nothing like the actual wand movements should be.

I snort softly, and say, "No, no, mimic my wand movements." I point my wand at Lockhart and say, Tarantallegra!"

Lockhart promptly starts dancing. "Ah, yes, like that," Lockhart says. "Very good, Potter. Now can you make it stop?"

"Finite Incantatem," I say, then look to Neville, "Your turn, Neville."

"Tarantallegra!" Neville says, waving his wand at Lockhart. This time he casts the spell properly, and Lockhart starts dancing again.

"Much better, Mr. Longbottom!" Lockhart says.

"Mimble Wimble," I say offhandedly, pointing my wand at Lockhart. He opens his mouth, but whatever comment he might have regarding my spellcasting fails to emerge.

"Locomotor Mortis!" Neville casts at Lockhart.

Sure enough, Lockhart promptly falls over, his legs still twitching until they snap. "Finite Incantatem," I say, pointedly waiting for a few moments. "Professor Snape!" I call. "Lockhart got himself hurt."

"So I see," Snape says. "Five points to Gryffindor for you, Longbottom."

"Gah!" Lockhart screams. "You're rewarding him for this?"

"I'm rewarding him for successfully casting those spells," Snape says. "This is Longbottom. Seeing him correctly cast two spells in one day is a feat on a miraculous level."

"Could you at least heal me?" Lockhart says. "This hurts! Don't you have a potion for this somewhere around here?"

"Mimble Wimble," I murmur.

Lockhart opens his mouth again, closes it, opens it again, and then resorts to just screaming at the top of his lungs. By this point, several nearby students have stopped their practicing to stare at us and whisper amongst themselves.

Snape glares at the other students. "Carry on, students," he says. "I will take care of this. It's nothing to be concerned about." Lockhart continues to scream loudly. "Mobilicorpus." Lockhart's body lifts itself off the floor. "I'm going to take Lockhart to the hospital wing. Potter, watch over the students while I am gone. If anything unfortunate happens while I am away, I will give you detention."

Snape leaves the room with the screaming Lockhart. I'm sure that he could have done something about it right here, but just wanted to prolong the man's suffering.

Neville starts laughing softly once he's gone. "That was... kind of fun, really," Neville says. "Does that make me a bad person?"

"Nah," I say. "It makes you the luckiest person in the room. I'm sure everyone but Lockhart's rabid fans would love to do that to him and get away with it."

"Hey," Ron is saying to another group of students. "Snape said if anything happens, Potter gets detention! Let's have at it!"

I sigh a little as I find myself beset upon by half a dozen twelve year old boys. I dance out of the way of their curses and cast, "Expelliarmus!" on Ron.

"Tarantallegra!" casts Neville, causing Seamus to start dancing.

I dodge a few more curses, but Neville isn't as nimble as me, and he soon gets taken out by a Disarming Charm. Draco steps up to my side, followed by Crabbe and Goyle, as the violence escalates. The entire room is swept up into an all-out war in the span of a few heartbeats.

"Can't we all just get along?" says a random Hufflepuff, who promptly gets Tongue-Tied.

"Who will stand with me against the Dark Lord Potter?" Ron says.

"That's a really horrible name, you know," I say. "If you're going to call me by some title, at least call me 'the Stormseeker'."

"I've got your back, Harry," Neville says, having retrieved his wand in the confusion.

There's a momentary truce as battle lines are drawn and sides are chosen. It looks like I'm facing off against all of second year Gryffindor minus Neville, as well as all of the Hufflepuffs and a few Ravenclaws. My own forces appear to be all of the Slytherins and some of the Ravenclaws.

"We may be outnumbered, but we still have the advantage," I say. "We're better than them. Let's show them what for!"

"To me, my friends!" Ron calls out. "We will not allow the Dueling Club to fall to darkness and tyranny!"

"Nice speech," I say with a snort. "Do you even know what 'tyranny' means?"

"Let us begin!" Ron says.

"Attack!" I bark.

Our forces clash. Curses fill the air. Many of the students, especially the Slytherins, aren't sticking with the relatively harmless spells Snape was demonstrating. Some of them definitely aren't in our course books.

I wind up being taken out of the game by a few quick spells from Hermione. Apparently casting curses at me doesn't count as speaking to me. I lay on the ground, vision swimming and unable to move, drifting in and out of consciousness for several minutes.

"Finite Incantatem," says Draco's voice.

I can move again. I fumble around and grab my wand, and sit up. Draco is the only one standing. Everyone else in the room is laying on the ground, although it doesn't look like anyone was actually seriously injured. Draco goes over to cancel the spells on Neville next. I get up to help him getting out own side back on their feet quickly.

"We won?" Neville says, looking around for his wand.

"Of course," Draco says.

Once my impromptu army is back on its feet, I say, "Alright. Make certain there are no casualties. Confiscate enemy wands. Stand ready when releasing the spells on the prisoners."

The wands scattered about the floor are quickly collected and placed in a pile on the stage. "Locus Timoris," I murmur on the pile to keep anyone else from getting close. Several students have minor cuts and bruises, and I toss an "Episkey" at each of them. Nothing serious, fortunately.

"You won't win every time, 'Stormseeker'," Ron spits. "You won't get away with--"

"Mimble Wimble," I mutter, and Ron promptly shuts up about it. I think that's my new favorite spell.

"That was actually pretty fun," Dean says. "But I think I picked the wrong side. Can I defect to the Storm Army now?"

"Is that what we're calling it now?" I say.

"Sounds good to me," Draco says.

And then Snape stalks in. "Tell me, Potter," Snape says. "Do you think that this counts as 'unfortunate'?"

"Not really," I reply. "Nobody's hurt, and we got some good practice in."

"Lay off on Harry," Neville says. "Ron started it!" I stare at him in surprise. Neville is actually standing up to Snape for my sake now?

Snape sighs and puts his forehead in his hand. "I'll give you one warning," Snape says. "No more spontaneous unsupervised warfare. Or everyone involved will be scrubbing cauldrons. This club is dismissed for the day."

"I still can't believe he didn't give you detention after all that," Neville says.

It's after lunch, and I'm currently gathered in an unused classroom with my usual circle of friends and co-conspirators, plus Crabbe, Goyle, and Dean.

"I wonder how long he was standing there watching," Draco says.

"I bet he found it right amusing," Dean says.

"I'm going to need to change the password on my Revulsion Curse," I say. "Now that I've officially announced my title and all." I sigh. "And Hermione's defection doesn't help that, either."

"I wouldn't put much store into who chose what sides back there," Dean says. "I bet most of us were just having fun with it."

"Some of them were clearly serious, though," I say. "Ron just keeps getting worse and worse about it. And I thought he was bad last year. And then there's Hermione..."

"I can try talking to her," Dean says.

I give a nod, and say, "Anyway, the new password on my Revulsion Curse spell will be 'Wishingsdale'. That, by the way Dean, is the spell I use to keep anyone from bothering me while I sleep. I learned it after the twins pranked my bed curtains."

"Oh, so that's what it is," Dean says. "Not because of some evil presence or anything like that."

I snicker softly. "Well, it is a curse, but that's so far as the 'evil' goes. But just try telling that to Ron, though."

"It's the nargles," Luna says lightly. "Hogwarts is infested with them."

"So," Draco says. "Storm Army? We're going to need a fancy logo. And a pretentious Latin motto."

"Seriously?" I say, smirking. "Are we really doing this?"

"Ron's certainly not backing down," Dean says. "You didn't eat lunch near us. You didn't hear how he was going on about it. Even trying to recruit from other years. He's nuts. He thinks himself some sort of a champion of the light or something. It was getting too much even for me."

I sigh. "You know, I never would have predicted that it would come to this," I say. "Alright. If this is the game he wants to play, then we'll meet him in kind. Our logo is a lightning bolt, and somebody who actually speaks Latin can come up with a pretentious motto."

"You know," Draco says thoughtfully. "This is so much better than Quidditch."

I laugh aloud. "Just yesterday you were going on about the upcoming tryouts!"

"I'm still going to make the team," Draco says. "And I expect Storm Army to back me up if any random wars break out in the middle of a game."

"Back up Slytherins?" Dean says. "Against Gryffindors?"

"I really don't care about house affiliation," I say. "And Ron against me is Gryffindor versus Gryffindor, after all, so it evens out. We could use some Hufflepuffs, too, though..."

"Bah, what do we need them for, anyway?" Draco says.

"Hufflepuffs are good and loyal people," I say. "They value loyalty and hard work. Those sorts of people are always good to have on your side."

"Hmm, I suppose you might have a point about that," Draco says.

"Lexen, I'm concerned about the reports I've heard regarding yesterday's, shall we say, incident," Dumbledore tells me in his office the next day.

"It's not like I was the one who started it," I say.

"And yet you stepped in and took charge like it was your rightful place, without missing a beat," Dumbledore says.

"I don't really see what the problem is, sir," I say.

"Some have expressed concern that you are trying to build an army like Voldemort did," Dumbledore says.

"Nonsense," I say. "For starters, my fancy title isn't in French."

"Lexen..." Dumbledore says.

I smirk. "And more importantly, I'm not evil. I'm defending myself against false accusations leveled by a couple of overzealous Gryffindors."

"Some may not see it that way, especially given the inclinations of many of those who have offered you their support," Dumbledore says.

"And if I have their support instead of the Dark Lord, I fail to see how this is a bad thing," I say. "Once the remainder realize that I'm not evil and that I stand against the Dark Lord, they will feel foolish and step behind me, and forget about these petty schoolboy conflicts."

"Perhaps you are right, Lexen," Dumbledore says. "I just can't quite shake the feeling that you are walking down a very familiar path."

"Don't worry, Headmaster," I say. "I'm not the Dark Lord and I'm not going to be. And he will regret it if he harms anyone on my side."

"Very well," Dumbledore says with a sigh. "Do as you will, then. I cannot tell you otherwise. But do try not to disrupt studies in the process."