Harry Potter and the Path to Power

Chapter XVII

"Harry," the raven haired witch stated, not a single drop of inflection in her emotionless voice.

For a moment they just stood there, looking at each other, Harry as if he was seeing a mystical creature, Cho with dull eyes.

For the time of a heartbeat Harry thought he saw something light up in Cho's eyes; an emotion, a reaction, a sensation... anything.

But before he could be certain it was there, it was gone.

With a blank face, Cho walked towards the castle, passing Harry without as much as a glance.

In a weak voice Harry called after her: "You're expected in the Great Hall..."

Feeling profoundly confused and sad, he turned around to the spot she had arrived at only a moment ago, staring at it. Her trunk was still there and an anonymous house-elf was standing next to it. With a wave of his hand Harry gave her permission to take the luggage up to the castle, before turning again and looking at Cho's retreating back.

Slowly, he started to make his own way up to the entrance of the castle.

*****

The assembled candidates were chatting amongst themselves, mostly grouped by house, happy to see each other again.

As Harry took his place among the Gryffindors, Dumbledore entered flanked by McGonagall. The Headmaster was resplendent in one of Gregory's creations, the likes of which only he could get away with; McGonagall was wearing simple robes in the earth tones she seemed to favour.

"Welcome all to Hogwarts," he began, gracing his students with a benign smile. "I am so very pleased to see that you accepted our invitation to the Protectorate Council.

You all know of the dangers I spoke of at the end of term feast; this is one of many initiatives to make our school a safer place."

Almost subconsciously, Harry threw a quick glance at the Slytherins who were present.

He was not the only one, as he saw the other Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and even trusting Hufflepuffs cast glances in the same general direction.

Distrust ran deep.

"Only in standing united, as one school, can we hope to survive the coming storm intact.

It is you who will lead your separate houses, as you represent the finest that Hogwarts has to offer in its struggle against the Dark Arts. For that reason alone, it is vital you pull together, if not for yourselves, then for the ones you will be protecting."

Echoing through the empty halls and corridors of the castle, Harry heard a steady clunk. As it came nearer he found it harder and harder to concentrate on Dumbledore's speech.

The headmaster spoke of things he long knew, of responsibility, of protecting others and of sacrifice; he knew sacrifice.

The sound came nearer and nearer, until it was just outside the side door of the Great Hall.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I wish to remind you that, although a position on the Protectorate Council is an honourable one, it is also voluntary. Remember that during your training you may ask to leave at any time," Dumbledore said emphatically; then he continued in a lighter tone: "That, of course, will exclude you from the Council."

The words seemed to have a sobering effect on the students. Most of them had boisterous attitudes upon arrival, speculating that Proctor training could not be that different from the Prefect introduction day combined with a duelling club.

"Without further ado, I wish to introduce you to your principal instructor for the coming weeks. Although there will be various Professors and consultants assisting him, he will be overseeing your activities. He graciously consented to being here, despite certain promises of mine to the contrary last year.

Please give a warm welcome Auror Moody."

With those last words the clunking resumed and Alastor Moody walked in. The noise had been from his peg leg.

As he stepped in front of Dumbledore, his magical eye roved over the faces of all the candidates.

Harry had been daunted by the looks that the fake Moody was capable of, it was nothing compared to the piercing glares the real one was throwing around now. The very expression on the face of the former Auror seemed to say that he knew your innermost fears and secrets.

"Ladies and Gentleman," he said in a low, lethal voice, "welcome to Hell."

*****

"WELL? What are you waiting for? Get outside," Moody thundered at the stunned students.

"Move, move, move," he barked while pointing at the doors of the Great Hall, "assemble on the steps to the main doors."

Running amidst his fellow students Harry had but one thought: Oh shit!

Arriving at the steps to the main doors he saw that Mad Eye was already there, how had he gotten here that fast?

"Line up by year. Now, faster, faster."

Moody paced up and down the line with a disgusted look on his face as the students slowly found their place.

"That was pathetic, people; no, not people, children - babies even.

Look to your right; that is the person you will be standing next to if I tell you to line up and you will line up quickly or I will have you begging to go home," he said in a harsh voice.

While glaring at the candidates one by one, he continued walking up and down the line.

"I have one week to start your training; a training that will not stop as long as you are a member of the Protectorate Council.

Do you want to know what I think about that?

I'll tell you what I think about that," he spat.

"I think I am wasting my bloody time. There is no way I can cram what you need to know into those puny little brains of yours in one week, no way I can train those scrawny, weak bodies of yours."

"Now don't get me wrong, I am a brilliant instructor, but if I am given sub-standard recruits I can not help but fail," he said in a honeysweet voice, "this is of course not your fault and I advise you to quit now instead of later, no hard feelings."

"But sir, you can't..." a 6^th year Ravenclaw boy began.

Moody stopped pacing right in front of the Ravenclaw and turned towards him, bringing his face bare inches away from the boy's.

"You wanted to tell me you quit, Mister...?" Moody said in that low voice of his.

"Roger Davies, I was in your Defence agai..." he started in a congenial tone.

"Mr. Davies, first of all, you will address me as sir or Instructor Moody. Second of all, forget last year, that was not me. Thirdly, do not speak unless spoken too, except if you want to quit. Do you wish to quit, Mr. Davies?"

"No sir, but I must protest against..." the boy began again in a heated voice.

"Let me make this clear to you, Mr. Davies, TO ALL OF YOU; you are not here to protest, you are not here to be coddled; you are here to do as I say. The bottom line is simple: complete my course or go home."

He turned both eyes on Davies and said: "Mr. Davies, do you know what push-ups are?"

"Yes sir," the boy squealed.

"Good, THEN DROP AND GIVE ME TWENTY!"

As Davies dropped to the ground, his face as white as wax, Moody resumed his pacing.

"As I promised Dumbledore I would teach you, I will. I never back out of a promise. I will get you lot into shape, even if it kills you

In the coming week myself and others will start on your Proctor training.

You will be taught protocol, etiquette, history, traditions and Hogwart's Rules and Regulations.

Besides teaching you the rules, we will start you on your combat training, both with wand and without, armoured and un-armoured.

As a matter of fact, that is where we will start.

Does anyone know the best way to defend against a curse by a Dark Wizard?"

Several hands were put up hesitantly.

"You," Moody said while pointing at an overly large 7^th year Hufflepuff, not looking at him except with the magical eye that seemed to be looking straight through his skull.

"A shield?" the Hufflepuff said somewhat doubtfully.

"Is that a question or an answer?" Moody bellowed. "Never mind, WRONG. Avada Kedavra will rip through any shield. Anyone care to try again?"

Again several hands were raised, this time even more slowly.

"You," Moody pointed to Katie Bell.

"Constant vigilance," she said smugly.

"That will help, but not against a curse that is already on its way. I guess we will have to ask the one person of you lot who has ever gone up against a Dark Wizard's curse; Mr. Potter, care to try?"

Harry had dreaded this from the moment the question had been asked.

The answers both the Hufflepuff and Katie had given had made sense, so Harry was already racking his brain for the answer.

He tried to remember what he had done against Voldemort.

The Priori Incantatem effect was not an option in every situation, so what?

He had simply run...

He hadn't been there...

"Not be there, sir," he said in a quiet tone and he could immediately hear the snigger to his left; it was Blaise Zabini.

"Not be there," Moody slowly repeated. "That is indeed the best defence against any curse. And what is the most simple way to not be there?" he asked in general.

No one dared answer, so everyone was doing his or her utmost best to stare ahead.

"It's to run. SO RUN," Moody bellowed at the candidates.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? RUN, YOU MAGGOTS, RUN" he roared at the confused students.

As he began to run, Harry had just one thought: Oh shit.

*****

The first day had been gruelling. Moody had put them through a series of physical exercises the likes of which Harry had not even imagined.

Lunch had been skipped and water was rationed. Drinking water by the litre at set intervals was enough to keep his body hydrated, but not enough to quench his thirst, leaving Harry's mouth dry constantly.

During the runs, push-ups, moving tree trunks, digging holes in the earth and then filling them up again - basically any exhausting task that Moody could think up- he continued to ask questions on a wide variety of subjects - spells, shields, curses, hexes, ethics, logic riddles and a wide variety of general knowledge- and woe the person who gave the wrong answer; even the most pure-blooded of wizards and witches learned the meaning of doing a 'push-up'.

As the day progressed, tiredness began to impede Harry's thought processes and correct answers were few and far between; he thought his arms were about to burst.

At the end of the day, the sun long behind the horizon and darkness claiming Hogwarts' grounds, they were finally sent back to the castle for a meal.

As the plates appeared on the single table in the Great Hall, a small part of Harry's mind concluded that even Aunt Petunia's cooking had looked better on the worst of days, but the hunger ravishing his body suppressed those thoughts and he was eating the gruel he was served with remarkable speed.

Moody was standing at the far side of the table, his hands leaning on it and his face looking menacing. "After that pitiful performance today you people do not deserve to eat, but Dumbledore insisted you be fed. You can thank his bleeding heart for this food, if it were up to me you would still be out there.

I knew you would all do badly, but you exceeded even that expectation, and went straight to dismal.

I had expected better, even from you sorry maggots.

Potter, I had expected you -you of all people- to do better. You know what's out there."

Harry stopped listening. Snape had always been bad, but here was a man you had to respect, a highly lauded Auror, who said very much the same.

Too tired to even think about it, Harry instead concentrated on eating. The taste was decent, despite the look of the food and he felt the energy it provided entering his system already.

"That's enough, you sorry excuses for human beings," Moody barked, and with a wave of his wand the food disappeared.

"Line up, NOW," the former Auror bellowed.

"For those of you who thought it was time for bed - You were wrong.

The first role of a Proctor is to defend the castle, and to do this you must know both offensive and defensive magic.

Now I know most of you were members of the short-lived duelling club led by that idiot Lockhart.

Let me assure you, this part of your training will be nothing like that. I mean business, people. Here you will learn to stay alive when facing anything from a flobberworm to the darkest wizard you can imagine.

To begin with you will duel one-on-one and I will correct you as you go.

For those of you who sit at the side while this goes on: first one to fall asleep or not pay attention... you will not be sleeping tonight!"

Muttering under his breath, Moody rearranged the Great Hall with his wand, getting rid of tables, chairs, banners and wall hangings.

"Potter, you are exempt from this part of the training for now. You will report to the Headmaster in the antechamber next to the staff table."

Harry's stomach fell; he could guess the reason for this, but still.... He was once more being singled out, made into something special.

With a bright blush he started walking towards the end of the hall.

"Run, Potter! There is no walking this week," Moody snapped.

Quickly Harry ran to the door while behind him he heard: "Zabini, Freedman, you two are up first."

Fast as he could he slipped into the antechamber. The room was exactly how Harry remembered it from the year before.

A small fire burned in the large fireplace to keep the moisture inherent to an old castle out of the room.

A quick flash of Fleur Delacour, Victor Krum and Cedric Diggory standing by that fireplace flashed in his mind. Fleur had called him a little boy in this room and he had been quite angry with that.

He sighed. How right she was and how wrong he had been.

Dumbledore was already waiting for him.

"Hello Harry, ready to start your real training?"

*****

Harry was floating through the white light in his core.

He was only dimly aware of his body, which was sitting opposite of Dumbledore on the floor.

As they had done before, their knees were touching and they had put their hands together. Dumbledore had then started to explain to Harry the need to control his emotions and thus his magic, but also the other way around.

His emotions influenced his magic, and his magic influenced his emotions.

It was a never-ending circle.

Dumbledore had then started talking about meditation techniques, controlled breathing and body awareness.

"I know you don't understand most of this, Harry, but the knowledge will come in handy when you get to a certain practical level," the Headmaster had said, and so Harry listened and tried to commit everything to memory, anything to prevent what had happened out in that field.

Dumbledore had than told him to clear his mind and find his magic. It had been as easy as closing his eyes.

That was what had brought him to this point.

"Do you remember the crystal, Harry? How you filled it with magic?" Dumbledore's voice echoed through his head.

"Yes," Harry responded.

"No need to speak, Harry. Physically connected as we are now, out link is strong enough to carry our conscious thoughts to each other."

What happened next was probably the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to Harry.

His first reaction was surprise, and the thought: what about everything I don't want anyone to know?

His second reaction was to picture Dumbledore naked.

A chuckle sounded through his mind. "Don't worry, my boy. This is a perfectly normal reaction. I happens to us all the first time we are conscious of any kind of mind connection, although I must say that was one of the more flattering images of myself I have ever seen."

"Sorry, Professor," Harry projected in his mind.

"No matter. Now, do you remember what you did to fill the crystal?"

"Yes, I... I'm not sure how to say this. I didn't grab my magic, but I sort of guided it to come out."

"Yes. Your magic is no longer a tool or an energy you have access too, it is an integral part of you. That is why it no longer responds to you as it once did.

Before you controlled it and accessed it with your wand, existing spells and your mind; you will find it works differently now, how I cannot yet say, but it will be very exciting to find out."

Harry was sure he could hear the glee in Dumbledore's.... voice? No, mind maybe...

The old wizard was truly excited of the prospect of discovery.

"Now, Harry, I want you to relax, and just stay where you are now, in the centre of your magic. I think it will be very educational for both you and me to just observe for awhile.

You can never know your own magic well enough. Remember that it seems to have a mind of its own from time to time."

And that was what Harry did; he relaxed and floated, deeper and deeper into his own mind.

"I want you to think of something that soothes you; that calms you down. This will be your focus for meditation.

It is a tool to use, especially in the beginning to calm your mind. Later it will be a mental aid to start your meditation; after awhile you will find that you don't even need that anymore and it will come naturally."

"What should I choose, Professor?" Harry projected into his mind.

"Your focus is your own choice. Most of us already have one, something we think about that calms us down. Usually it is a place where we were happy, or a memory we are particularly fond of. Do you have such an image Harry? Have you ever used it?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry thought he could almost hear the twinkling of the headmaster's eyes in his voice.

A picture he had used to calm down? He thought back, let his mind wander.

Images flashed through his mind, flying, winning the Quidditch Cup, meeting Hagrid and finding out he was a wizard, the memory of Sirius telling him he could live with him. So many things; Hogwarts itself, not to mention his friends would qualify. Ron and Hermione... and his mind immediately hit upon a very recent memory.

His eyes flew open and all his concentration was gone.

"What is it, Harry? What disturbed you?" Dumbledore asked.

"Nothing," Harry answered with a breaking voice, "Nothing at all."

"Alright," the headmaster said with a curious look in his eyes, "do you think you can resume meditating?"

"Uhmm, no, not right now," Harry answered, his mind flashing back to the memory that had come so sudden, a memory of only last night on the south tower.

"Very well," Dumbledore said, looking at Harry with curious amusement, "we can see how your magic abilities are."

As Dumbledore stood and walked to a small box on a nearby salon table, Harry looked toward the fireplace. The fire had almost completely died down and only a fragment of wood remained. They must have been engaged in the mind link longer than he had thought... a lot longer.

"Harry, if I could have your attention?" Dumbledore asked shaking Harry out of his train of thought.

The Headmaster had taken a small white feather out of the box.

"Now, I'm sure you remember the basic levitating charm from first year?" Dumbledore asked, and without waiting for an answer continued. "I'd like you to perform it on this feather."

Harry looked at the feather. What was the catch? It just couldn't be as simple as it looked; nothing ever was when Dumbledore was involved.

He took out his wand and with the swish and flick Flitwick had drilled into him he pronounced "Wingardium Leviosa."

Nothing happened.

"Try again, Mr. Potter. This is not unexpected," Dumbledore encouraged.

"Wingardium Leviosa," Harry said again, this time with more power in his voice, trying to will the magic to obey.

Again nothing happened.

"Wingardium Leviosa" Harry cried out, walking toward the feather. "Wingardium Leviosa, Wingardium Leviosa, Wingardium Leviosa," Harry repeated, getting annoyed.

"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA," he said with anger.

This had an unexpected result as the feather exploded with a dry bang, much as it had done for Ron in first year.

"And now we know where we have to work from," Dumbledore said. "I think it best not to use any magic in class or daily life for a while, Mr. Potter. It could have... unexpected consequences," Dumbledore continued with a smile.

"I think we have done enough for tonight. You may report to Instructor Moody, I suspect he is still in the Great Hall. Dismissed," Dumbledore said while leaving the room through a back door.

*****

"Damned, Chang; you should have seen that one coming a mile away. Are you even paying attention? Get back to your place" Moody said in his biting voice.

As the former Auror turned to select another candidate, he saw Harry approach.

"I see the famous Boy-Who-Lived has finally decided to join us. Aren't you babies in luck, this means it's your bed time and it's only one o'clock in the morning. Follow me."

One o'clock in the morning? No wonder Harry felt exhausted. It had been a long and strenuous day, not only with Moody but his activities under Dumbledore's guidance had been a lot more tiring than they sounded.

His fellow students didn't look very energetic, now that he paid attention.

The group arrived at a room that contained nothing more than a number of field beds. The stone walls and floor were bare and the windows barred.

"Boys to the left, girls to the right. As Mr. Freedman was kind enough to fall asleep during instruction he will be on guard this night. If and when no one has disciplinary guard duty, I will make a duty roster, but remember - some one WILL ALWAYS BE ON GUARD.

Now, get changed and to bed, lights out in five minutes," Moody barked as the candidates entered the room.

Harry was just too tired to care that there were females in the room; all he wanted was to get to bed and give his aching body a rest.

He randomly selected a bed on the left side of the room. As he removed his clothes his only thoughts were of sleep.

With some difficulty he crawled into the sleeping bag that lay on top of the field bed, his body protesting against the additional strain.

Almost immediately after, lights went out and the room went almost completely dark.

As Harry lay there he could slowly feel his muscles relax a little, they were so overtaxed that it actually hurt to just lie still and unwind.

It took almost half an hour before his body was enough at peace to find some sleep.

*****

Harry was a light sleeper ever since the events on Privet Drive, so when he heard a hushed shuffling in the dark he was immediately fully awake.

"Sonorus," he heard a voice whisper in the dark.

"WAKE UP, MAGGOTS. IT'S ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL DAY. YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES TO CLEAN UP AND PUT ON CLOTHES.

BOYS TO THE LEFT, GIRLS TO THE RIGHT.

MOVE IT, I FEEL LIKE MAKING ONE OF YOU QUIT THIS MORNING SO I WANT TO GET TO IT," Moody's voice bellowed through the room with the strength of ten howlers.

And as Harry hurried to the bathroom he had but one thought: Oh Shit!