Harry Evans: Memoirs of a well-lived Death (SI)

Harry was sitting in a compartment with Cedric, Penny and the Weasley twins when he remembered one thing that he'd almost forgotten to do. He opened his trunk and pulled out a small wooden box which he used to store his photographs. Flipping through the variety of photos he'd taken while at Hogwarts, he finally came upon the group photo of Cedric, the twins and another girl whose name he didn't remember. He'd taken this photo what seemed like a lifetime ago, on his first train ride to Hogwarts.

"Here," he said, holding out the photo to the twins. They quickly snatched it out of his hand before starting to brashly comment on their own attractiveness and denigrate their counterparts' looks.

"Thanks, Harry. Just sad to see such a beautiful composition marred by such an ugly mug," one of them said, looking pointedly at the other.

Harry rolled his eyes and leaned back as he watched the two bicker, Cedric stole a glance at the photo. "Wait," the boy said suddenly, "there's only one photo." The three of them shared an awkward look, before turning to Harry, who could only shrug.

"I only developed one," he explained.

"You guys can have it," Cedric said, pushing the photo towards the twins. "There's two of you, so if you hang it up somewhere it will be looked at more than if I keep it."

"Thanks, Ced," Fred said, George nodding along, "it's settled then," the other finished, before offering Cedric a chocolate frog. "As a thank you," they finished together.

Cedric took the package dubiously and held it far away from himself with a look of suspicion. The Weasley twins were meanwhile presenting their angelic expressions, too busy to notice Penny sneaking a little ball into one of their pockets.

"Peng!" Pandemonium suddenly ensued in the compartment. The chocolate frog exploded, showering everyone with drizzles of chocolate, and the little ball that Penny had snuck into the Weasley's pockets imploded with a fart sound, releasing a horrible-smelling gas.

"Ewww, did you two just fart!?" Penny screamed, pointed at the twins and then ran out, but not before quickly winking at Harry. A Harry who was unamused, covered in chocolate and smelling a mixture of what must have been rotten pineapples and pig dung.

"That's disgusting George, what did you eat?" he asked the twin on the right in an apathetic voice, with a slightly disgusted sneer on his face. The twins were red in their faces, Cedric meanwhile, was brown. He'd gotten the worst of the chocolate.

"I did not!" George insisted, gasping as his own twin stood up and ran out of the compartment, also covered in some chocolate.

"That's disgusting brother mine!" Fred yelled, "In front of a lady as well!"

"I did not!" George repeated, louder this time, before standing up and chasing after his brother. A horrible stink followed the boy as he left the compartment.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Cedric muttered, shakily putting down the hand that had been holding the dangerously unstable chocolate frog, he somehow hadn't lowered it during the explosion Harry agreed with his friend's assessment. His own face was already turning green from the disgusting smell. Harry raised his wand in the air and broadly gestured at the entirety of the train compartment.

"Scourgify," he intoned as he willed the undesirable to disappear from the compartment and as if it were magic, it did. The only thing left behind was a very clean, perhaps even slightly confused Cedric and a very baffled Harry.

"Wow," Cedric exclaimed, looking around the now clean train compartment. "That's a powerful scourgify," he praised.

Harry meanwhile was simply confused, because right before casting the spell he had actually been planning on standing up and going to the toilet. Now, however, he didn't feel like he had to go anymore. He furrowed his brows.

It wasn't good to apply magic to one's own body unintentionally.

"You alright, mate?" Cedric asked. "You look a bit constipated."

Harry slowly shook his head, "No… not really."

-/-

The atmosphere in the Hogwarts staff room was jovial and celebratory. After all, most of the students had left the castle for two weeks, giving the professors the first breathing room they'd gotten in three months and a half.

"Now, would anybody like to start? Anything in particular to do with the first years?" Dumbledore asked from where he was seated at the large round table made to seat the entire school faculty, before looking around.

"Some cases of home-sickness," Sprout said. "Easily manageable. Some bright students in Herbology this year, but that's about it," the round woman said jovially, before looking to her right at McGonagall, who sighed.

"The Weasley twins, horrid pranksters, rather like their uncles really, may their souls rest in peace. I foresee a lot of evenings spent in detention. I really would have better things to do," she complained. "Jordan Lee also tends to join in their shenanigans. They're good with a wand, but don't know where to channel the talent."

"Quite creative in Potions," Slughorn added, "amongst the top four students in the year, but still lagging behind Haywood and Rogers."

"They're separate people despite being twins, don't count them off as one entity quite yet. Who knows, they might split off from each other one day," Twix jokingly added, seemingly relaxing on her chair, leaning back on it. The older staff traded looks at the comment.

"If they're anything like their uncles they won't unglue their arses apart until they're married and even then they'd still be joined at the hip." McGonagall snorted. "Prewetts and Weasleys." She sighed. "Truly a match made in hell."

"Why, I found Potter and Black to be a particularly interesting combination as well, no sibling relation necessary," Dumbledore commented, causing Slughorn to curse out loud enough for his chin to wobble and his moustache to tremble as if hit by a small and localised earthquake.

"Those two! I almost celebrated their graduation more than I did You-Know-Who's death!" the man said. Twix, next to him, tensed up and dropped back into a normal position on her chair.

"Bright as their minds may have been, it was never easy being their teachers. At least they seem to be good members of society these days, which can't be said for some of the other problematic students we've had," Flitwick said pointedly, making Slughhorn bluster.

"Let's get back on topic," Dumbledore interjected, "You're the last head of house who hasn't spoken yet Filius, care to enlighten us on how the flock is doing this year?"

Flitwick shrugged, and shook his head, before stopping to seemingly consider the pile of books that he was sitting on. "Harry Evans. He recently came to me with a spell crafting proposal, it was very well reasoned and based on two theoretical books that I recommended to him at the start of the year after he asked me about the topic. He seems to have integrated both books quite well, which is impressive since they were on the topics of arithmancy and magical theory, nothing he could have covered yet."

"Spell-crafting is partially an art, really," Slughorn commented, causing Flitwick to shrug.

"It's why I hesitated to mention it. Mr Evans' classwork is exemplary and his grasp of magical theory and arithmancy says good things about his future. However, it is yet to be seen if he can efficiently translate that," he explained.

"He's in school, I'm sure he'll learn," Harry's head of house said, supporting her student.

"He's certainly not learning Potions!" Slughorn exclaimed, "The boy's bright, very much so, but his practical work is atrocious, he's exploded more cauldrons than the cauldron quality control department. I had higher hopes considering…" Here the man lost all momentum and sighed, looking around the table which now laid witness to sad downcast faces. "Sorry, that was uncouth of me," Slughhorn said. "It's just. I led the boy through Diagon Alley. I had high expectations for him."

"His work in Transfiguration is exemplary," McGonagall retorted stiffly, before turning to Twix. "How has he been in your class, also, how have you been settling in? I imagine it's very different from curse-breaking for the ministry."

Twix frowned slightly as if offended that she was being asked how she was doing, "Mr. Evans is doing satisfactorily. Nothing special, just a slightly better than average grasp on spells."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Good in Charms and Transfiguration, but struggling in potions and not noteworthy in Herbology. Perhaps the boy is simply inclined towards wand-magic rather than other, slower forms," he suggested as he adjusted his glasses, before glancing at Sinistra, who had been seemingly napping, but who opened her eyes instantly when the Headmaster glanced at her.

"Keeps his wits about him in Astrology. Doesn't seem to care for it much, though," she said.

"Untalented flyer," Hooch piped up, causing Sprout to raise an eyebrow at her.

"Untalented?" she asked, apparently taking offence. The flight instructor nodded.

"Just as someone might have a predisposition, they might have the opposite, but do tell me about the spell later," Dumbledore ruled, "Now let's move on," he said and the topic immediately shifted.

"One of my older Slytherins was jinxed quite badly by one of yours," Slughorn said to Sprout.

Sprout rolled her eyes. "If it was the boy who made an advance on Ms Tonks with the suggestion that her magical ability might make up for her blood status, then I don't want to hear it," she said firmly, ending the discussion before it could start. Another point was quickly brought up by the other professors. They all wanted to finish the meeting so they could start enjoying their vacation after all.

It was about an hour later that it was only Dumbledore, Flitwick and the bald Quirrell left at the table.

"I'm not quite sure if I should divulge what sort of spell Mr Evans is working on. He didn't specify if he came to me in confidence but it's always better to assume that than anything else, right?" Flitwick said, causing Dumbledore to nod.

"Students do need to feel that they are being given free room to develop, but self-made spells are very tricky business."

"It's hard to strike a balance between intervention and free development," a calm Quirrell interjected. "However, spell creation is incredibly dangerous and difficult. Are you sure the boy is ready?" he asked. "I haven't had him in my class, obviously, but I can't imagine entrusting such a task to any first-year."

"He is mature, talented and hard-working," Flitwick began carefully, before huffing. "I will reveal this, I guess I must, if only to put the staff at ease. The spell Mr Evans is trying to create has almost zero chance of backlash. It's something created purely for utility and has no components that would if allowed to run free, exert any unwanted force on anything."

"That does put an old man's heart at ease. Merlin knows we've all likely harboured dreams of creating a lightning dragon summoning spell when we were young boys," Dumbledore said and stood up, apparently viewing the conversation as over now that the Charms Master had assured them. His periwinkle robes swished as he turned to leave before he paused and turned to Quirrell, "I'm surprised you said anything in the direction of stopping the attempt though, Quirinus. I thought you were always more on the side of creative freedom," he said lightly.

"I've always believed that more trained wizards could determine for themselves the risks that certain magics brought alongside themselves. I'm sure I've never advocated for first-year students to be taught anything potentially dangerous to themselves," the wizard said, also standing up.

"And the risks of visiting certain places…" Dumbledore muttered, "Are you still set on your sabbatical?" he asked, receiving a curt nod from the younger man.

"A different path is calling, ignoring that call only makes for bitter men," the muggle studies professor replied.

"Wise words. It's better to try and fail than to not try at all," Flitwick piped up, "better this way. Not being allowed to spread their wings students might begin to feel like they are being held back and get up to all kinds of foolery. They are very much like adults, in that regard."

"Indeed," Dumbledore concluded. "I will see both at the end of vacation. On that note, have a pleasant evening." He said and departed through the wooden door leading out of the room, the other two professors, quickly following along and going their own way.

-/-

Harry sneezed, his head rocking from where he was resting it on the compartment window, through which he was enjoying the scenery. "Fucker!" he cursed, startling Cedric who had just come back from a chat with some other first-years.

"Harry!" the boy exclaimed, exasperatedly shaking his head before sitting down across him.

"Someone must be talking about me," Harry muttered, getting a curious raised eyebrow from his friend.

"Why do you say that?" Cedric asked.

"Maybe it's a muggle thing, but when you sneeze it's supposed to be because someone is talking behind your back."

"That's interesting, in the wizarding world we say that about getting a splinter," the Hufflepuff said, adjusting his slightly too-long brown hair out of his eyes.

"Different cultures, I guess," Harry said, before resting his head back on the window. Silence filled the compartment for a few minutes before he spoke again. "It was an interesting semester."

"Yeah, I can't believe that it was only three and a half months. I'm looking forward to seeing my family," Cedric said.

Harry sighed, "I'm mostly just glad for a small break from academic work," he said. Planning on forgetting about Occlumency, magical theory, arithmancy, spell-crafting, Potions and the disillusionment charm for a bit. Well, maybe not Occlumency. The trace had likely gotten applied now, so it wasn't like he was going to be able to cast anything anyway, although he could try out sorcery.

"I guess even someone like you gets tired of homework sometimes," Cedric said as if he were impressed by the negative feelings homework could elicit even from the nerdiest nerds, which is what Harry probably looked like from the outside.

"Magic never, homework definitely."

It was an hour later Harry exited the Hogwarts Express, pulling his luggage behind himself as he watched his friends reunite with their families. It was a heart-warming scene and it was five minutes later at the main entrance to the train station that he greeted his uncle.

"Learned anything interesting, eh?" the man asked awkwardly in lieu of a greeting as he easily picked up his trunk and hauled it into the back of their shining blue Beetle. A car that they'd fixed up together a few years ago and kept as a secondary vehicle for urban driving.

Harry sat in the front seat on the left, something he'd needed to get used to at first, tightened his seat belt and replied, "Loads of stuff, I even made some friends. You buy me anything nice for Christmas?"

His uncle snorted and started driving. "For that, you'll just have to wait and see like all the other kids in the country."

"Looking forward to it," Harry said and closed his eyes as they slowly made their way out of London and into Surrey.