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

A few days after his chess game with Penny, Harry found himself standing in front of the greenhouse that served as Sprouts' office. Not because it was actually an office, but because one was much more likely to find her here than elsewhere. His indecision about the matter with Twix had been gnawing at him, causing him to lose out on sleep and focus. In the end, he'd decided to tell a professor about what he'd seen, but not the headmaster. Harry really wanted to get his search function spell to work and to find something on Occlumency before approaching that particular man, even if his worries were most likely unfounded.

Lifting a hand to knock at the glasshouse door he hesitated, one last time, before simply sighing and knocking. A, "Come in!" was heard not a second later and Harry entered the uncomfortably humid glass house. Seeing Sprout at the end of a row filled with what appeared to be pink roses with teeth, he approached the woman gingerly, not touching any of the roses, no matter how tranquil they appeared for the moment.

"Mr. Evans!" Sprout exclaimed happily, putting down her trowel, which she had been using to re-pot a plant that looked like a gigantic bee. "What brings you here?" she asked, but continued speaking, "You spend so much time with Professor Flitwick I sometimes get the feeling you're a Ravenclaw," she said jokingly.

Seeing an easy way to flatter the woman Harry answered. "I've been in need of Professor Flitwick's help often recently due to the project that I'm working on with charms. However, if I ever had a real issue to discuss I would obviously go to my head of house."

Sprout nodded her head and ushered him to the back to the green-house where there was a table with a chair that she sat down at. She idly conjured him a small stool with a spell incantation that he was too distracted to understand.

"You're here to talk about something serious?" she asked, face growing hard in a way that Harry hadn't thought possible of the seemingly always jolly woman.

"Yes, I've witnessed some worrying happenings and I want to get it off my chest so I'm not solely responsible if it results in something unpleasant," Harry began. Sprout simply nodded and bid him to continue. "It's about Professor Twix-" he started, but Sprout cut him off by heaving out a loud sigh.

"The damned defence position," she said with tired eyes. "I'm sorry, please continue."

"I was practising some spells in an abandoned classroom once when she came in with someone I didn't recognize. You see, I hid, as I didn't want to be caught, so I didn't see who it was. But the other was definitely Professor Twix. She was talking to this second person, a male, I think she was trying to brief him about something. Well, anyway they noticed that the classroom had been used and moved elsewhere. This didn't worry me as much, but then last week I saw the professor leaving the grounds at night and I admit that I followed her," Harry said

"You should have gotten a professor if you had any reason to be suspicious," Sprout interjected.

"Well, she met with the stag at the edge of the forbidden forest. Talked to it. She told him that she thought that she had found what they'd been looking for at Hogwarts. Supposedly it's in the library and Professor Twix will need a bit more to gain access. She's expecting to find something horrible in there, she said. So I thought I'd better tell somebody," Harry finished, noting how an odd look passed Sprout's face at the mention of the stag. Was he missing something?

"Five points to Hufflepuff. It was a very brave thing to come to me, Mr.Evans," Sprout said. "Disregarding the irresponsibility of going anywhere near the forbidden forest at night, I'm glad to have heard what you had to tell me about Professor Twix. Ì will have to go talk to the headmaster immediately," she said as she stood up.

"What should I do meanwhile?" Harry asked, getting an odd look from his head of house.

"Why, nothing," she replied. "You're a student, Mr Evans, you've already exposed yourself to more unpleasantness than necessary. And this is likely exactly what it is, unpleasantness, I suspect, nothing dangerous," she said, causing Harry to slump on his stool. The amount of relief that he felt at hearing that the situation wasn't something dangerous was difficult to describe.

"I'll go talk to the headmaster. Hopefully, we can resolve whatever this situation is. You go enjoy the rest of the day, well if you've done your homework that is," the woman said.

Harry nodded quickly. "I did, I did." But Sprout was already rushing off, a fast walk that seemed more displeased and perhaps a tinge angry, rather than panicked. Harry counted his blessings. He looked down to see a vine getting a bit too close to his leg and he took it as his cue to leave, but not before manifesting a small flame in his hands to taunt the carnivorous roses with. "Don't think I'm scared of you, you little fuckwads," he muttered as he made his way out of the greenhouse, carefully avoiding all plant matter.

Magical plants were weird, he'd rather transfigure a broom into a mop any day of the week rather than watch and work with the disconcertingly sentient plants that seemed to make up the magical botany encyclopaedia. It wasn't his cup of tea, similar to potions, he thought as he exited the green-house and stepped onto the snow-covered fields behind Hogwarts.

"Harry?" a voice asked, and the boy turned to see Tonks standing next to the green-house, looking at him. "Are you the reason Sprout ran off like a bat from hell?" she asked.

"I guess", he muttered in response.

"What did you do?" Tonks queried further, "Sprout doesn't run, she doesn't even walk fast. She ambles," she said before narrowing her eyes. "Don't think you're forgiven for the shit you pulled on the train either, 'touch my tits' indeed you little pervert," she cursed as she pulled out her wand.

Harry carefully backed away from the clearly dangerous and deranged woman. "What're you planning on doing with that?" he asked warily as he pulled his own wand, only to remember that he really hadn't been focusing much on his duelling ability since arriving at Hogwarts.

"Considering your shitty taste of humour, I have a bunch of jinxes that you would probably find absolutely hilarious," Tonks said threateningly as her hair turned from pink to flaming red. She walked towards him, as Harry continued backing away. He concluded from the situation that she really hadn't appreciated the joke he'd made on the train.

"Now, now," he said while raising his hands placatingly. "I'm sure we can figure something out, what do you want, money, women, status? I can grant it all, but only if I remain unharmed," he haggled diplomatically, causing Tonks to grow red in the face as well.

"You littl-" she began and raised her wand menacingly, but that's as far as she got because Harry slashed down his wand and cast a wordless flipendo. Something that he'd needed to stall for so that he could gather enough focus in the awkward situation. Tonks was thrown back into the snow. Not that Harry could see, he was already running away as fast as he could.

"You'll never catch me alive!" he shouted as his feet carried him towards the castle.

"Get back here!" Tonks screamed from behind him. Harry obviously didn't listen, but he did retort once he saw that he was about to pass a group of older Gryffindor who were watching the chase with a curious expression.

"I'm really sorry that it has to end this way, Tonks, but I just don't see myself ready for a relationship like that with a much older woman!" he shouted while beginning to huff from exertion from running and talking at the same time. Seeing the Gryffindors laugh at his words and start cheering him on, he added, "The truth is, you're just too demanding in bed, I can't keep up!"

Perhaps it was his insistence to taunt while he ran that eventually ended up in him getting caught by Tonks. She never replied to a single thing he said but had simply run after him, seemingly fuelled by sheer embarrassment and hatred.

-/-

"Still not rid of the pink hair? It's been more than a week," Flitwick said with a chuckle.

Harry sighed. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, apparently."

"Indeed, a valuable lesson to learn in one's first year," Flitwick said as he turned towards the almost completely empty room that he had available in the back of his office for particularly volatile charms work. He pointed at a single piece of paper lying on the ground. "Now here is today's test subject," he said and turned to Harry, who furrowed his brow.

"That's it?" the student asked dubiously, wondering if he was simply misinformed about the danger of spell-creation, or if what he'd read about wards, runic circles and non-magical surroundings to avoid contamination had been made up. "Is it safe to try something in the castle, what about magical contamination?" he asked, causing Flitwick to chuckle.

"That's definitely one thing one should consider when dealing with dangerous spells without properly crafted arithmetic equations," the professor said.

Harry nodded and realised that for all that he had Flitwick as a project supervisor, he hadn't yet felt secure in plumbing the man for whatever information he desired. He weighed the thought in his mind and decided that the man had proven kind and interested enough in furthering Harry as a wizard that he could bring up some less-than-traditional topics for a Hogwarts education.

"I also read that during spell-creation it was safer to use runic circles to anchor a protection ward?" Harry asked.

"I see that you're more prepared than most for the spell-creating process, and while the things you've been mentioning are important when creating combat spells, or conjurations, your spell is a fairly benign construct. I don't see the need, really. Would you like to do it, just so you can see how?" Flitwick asked and Harry considered the offer.

"Perhaps we can keep these things for a future in which I create a more dangerous spell," Harry said. "We're here to bring to an end a half year of work. Maybe I'm just nervous at the thought of failure. That I've wasted so much time," he admitted.

Flitwick smiled kindly. "Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there. The words on the paper I wrote are 'the book.' Why don't you give the search a try?" he prompted and waved him off as if trying to disperse his worries with his tiny hands.

Harry stood there like a muppet for a few seconds. The fact that the theory and the invocation he was supposed to cast were of his own design, written on a proper stapled-together research proposal, instead of an ancient tome, baffled him. It was just weird, magic was supposed to be found in dusty books at the end of a shelf. It was supposed to be found in between the mad ramblings of an 18th-century gnome enthusiast; a spell for making the perfect linguini.

"Fuck it," Harry said, stopping his stream of consciousness. The professor laughed and hopped from foot to foot. Harry quickly pulled out a piece of parchment from his pocket and wrote the word onto it with a quill. He specifically used these materials because these were the ones Flitwick and any other magicals were likely to use. Harry then raised his wand over the piece of parchment, focused his intention on the typography of the word 'book' and waved his wand in the complicated pattern. "Littera revelio," he carefully incanted, feeling the tug on his magic and peeling his eyes open to see any result, only for nothing to happen.

Harry looked down at the stone floor and then at the piece of paper in the middle of the room. It was a few metres away.

"When casting the homenum revelio spell I find it helpful to imagine an expanding circle of awareness with me at the centre" Flitwick commented.

Harry nodded, cringed at the fact that he'd forgotten to visualise, concentrated, took a few steps towards the paper and cast his spell. "Littera revelio," he said and watched as the something on the piece of paper began glowing, he was too far to distinguish properly if it was the word. He took a few more steps and picked up the paper, 'book' being clearly highlighted in a dim shining gold.

"It works," Harry breathed before sitting down to stare at the paper, which was gradually losing its glow.

"May I see?" Flitwick asked, causing Harry to pause. He'd never given Flitwick permission to cast his spell, had he? Was it something that even needed allowance? It was probably a cultural thing. It could just as well have been possible that by asking for his help, Harry had invertedly allowed Flitwick the use of his creation, just as it could be the case that using someone's spell without their permission was a highly insulting act.

"Go for it. Use the spell as you desire, professor. It was never a magic meant to remain secret," Harry said, not turning around to look at the man, but continuing to stare at the paper, only a slight shimmer still illuminating the word 'book'. His words had less weight when one considered that one industrious muggle-born would have certainly created a similar spell after the advent of the computer.

"Thank you," Flitwick said perfunctorily, "littera revelio," he cast, not bothering with writing anything down and whooped in delight, telling Harry that for him as well, the spell had worked. Harry began laughing and let himself fall backwards onto the floor, not minding the scourgify he'd need later.

"Six months," he whispered to himself. A doubt crept up. This had been simply testing the spell in the presence of one piece of paper. Would doing so in a library work? He banished the thought, because no matter what, the hard part was done now, now it was just time to experiment and grow experienced with the spell. One day it would expand into querying for meaning, not form. He'd also need to learn to cast it wordlessly and without wand gestures since he doubted Pince would appreciate him waving his wand around in the library. Also, he needed to get rid of having to write the word first, like Flitwick had managed.

Flitwick coughed, to gain the boy's attention. "Well, Harry, it's at this point that I have a reward for this amazing extra-curricular project. I already discussed it with the rest of the staff, what should be done in case you succeed in your endeavour, and what should be done in case you don't," he said, catching Harry's attention.

"What would have happened had I not succeeded?" he asked curiously.

"Well, you would have been awarded 50 points, I shan't say the name of your house, or else it will actually happen," he chuckled. " In addition, you would have automatically passed your Charms exam with an O, no test required. The amount of magical theory knowledge and the rest of the charms work I have seen you do, are at such a level that I don't doubt that you would be able to pass next year's exam as well if left with the spell list for a few weeks. Last but not least, although most of our pupils, unfortunately, wouldn't consider this a reward: You would have gotten more lee-way in class and be assigned more advanced and personalised instruction in the context of staying within the classroom. Of course, this would only happen in classes where you aren't being challenged, so likely not in Potions."

Harry tilted his head at the deluge of information. "Seeing as it worked, did I pass the Charms exam?" he asked somewhat stupidly. It was irrelevant anyway, seeing as how he'd been keeping up in all classes and even doing more in some of them. He wouldn't have to study for the exams anyway.

"Yes, with an O, even. Funnily enough, this wasn't something that would have changed depending on success or failure, you can still sit them of course, if you want." Flitwick said.

"I might not want to stick out too much, but also I can still aim for an O+. What's the difference in the reward then, if that part is the same?"

"Well, you won't be getting points for one. You'd deserve about 150, but it was decided that this would destabilise the entire point system."

"If one good project could swing the whole battle between houses, nobody would avoid committing misdemeanours just to avoid losing points. I never wanted them anyway," Harry agreed.

"Would you rather have an acknowledgement in the trophy room then? If you allow your spell to be taught by me, then you will definitely deserve at least a plaque. Students get those for being the youngest seeker in a hundred years, I think your achievement is more impressive," Flitwick sniffed, causing Harry to raise an eyebrow.

"The spell is not done yet, we have to see if extending the-" he began to retort, at which point Flitwick shrugged and interrupted him.

"It's already developing to be extremely useful and thus, I'd love to teach it along with the other charms in the curriculum."

Harry mulled it over. There wasn't really any reason to keep the spell a secret, it would even benefit him if it wasn't. What if one day a researcher created something only because he'd found the necessary literature fast enough to catch their deadline? He'd been a proponent of open science even in his last life, and he didn't see a reason to stop now.

"Sod the award," Harry said. "I want everyone who wants to learn the spell to be able to do so, teach it, expand on it, change it. I don't care." He shrugged, teasing an approving small from his teacher.

"Releasing the spell, but refusing an award. How…" he trailed off, seemingly lost for words, "refreshing. It could be a great advantage over the other students, you know?" he asked, causing Harry to give him a confused look.

"Is there a competition I wasn't aware of?"

Flitwick seemed to consider his answer for a moment. "I guess not unless having the highest grades in the year means something to you. I imagine it doesn't, since creating a spell means more in life and to any potential employer down the road than being the valedictorian."

"And the last factor you mentioned, being given more lee-way in class?" Harry asked, causing Flitwick to beam.

"Well, seeing you now showed that you can follow such a heavy extra-curricular load while keeping your grades in other subjects at an acceptable level, it's quite clear that you are perhaps one of the students who doesn't need to be forced to learn. I imagine that if you would approach Professor Slughorn for a way to improve your potions grade in some extracurricular manner he would be much more willing to compromise than he would with a student who'd never shown any initiative."

"Makes sense," Harry said, before pausing. "Could I then technically approach the arithmancy professor to do some course-work in the summer?" he asked, "Now that I've created the spell I don't see myself using arithmancy much and I don't want the skill to rust."

"You'll have to discuss it with Professor Vector personally. I would recommend you do it fast, while she remains impressed with your creation. I'd bring the calculations you needed for the project to showcase what level you're at. But what's this about not creating any more spells?" Flitwick asked with a raised eyebrow and a somehow disappointed voice, as he conjured himself a chair to sit on now that it seemed that the conversation would drag on for a bit longer.

Harry scratched the back of his head awkwardly. He didn't want to admit that he'd only made the spell out of sheer frustration and a wish to find material on the Mind Arts. On the other hand, maybe he could trust Flitwick enough to tell him that spell-creation wasn't really what he'd set out to do when he came to Hogwarts. "Well, I only made the spell because I hated how hard it was to find anything in the library and while the project was fun it's not really something I'm planning on repeating unless there is once again a need for a spell that doesn't exist yet. There is so much interesting magic out there that I don't need to create first to learn. Spell-creation seems sort of inefficient considering how long it takes to create something like what I just did," he admitted, causing Flitwick to grumble.

"And here I was thinking that your interest in Charms was what drove you to take up this project," the man said sadly. Harry couldn't help but snort, causing the man to frown, at which Harry defensively raised his arms.

"You misunderstand, professor!" he exclaimed, "Charms are awesome! They're the magic I've been working on the most. I particularly like the hygiene and cleaning part of the whole business, it just saves me so much time that I decided to master the household branch first."

Flitwick laughed. "What pragmatism, I bet many adults tell you that they wish they'd been as smart as you when they were your age, huh?" he teased, causing Harry to blush.

"Anyway, I also want to learn the Patronus charm at some point, it seems like a really awesome spell and I'd be really curious what my animal guardian would be," Harry admitted.

Flitwick rubbed at his chin. "You sure have a knowledge of many obscure spells for a first-year who claims to have issues finding things in the library," he said suspiciously.

"It's because it's hard to find anything that I keep randomly stumbling on interesting books."

"You really would have fit into Ravenclaw," Flitwick said while casting a silent tempus and humming. "There was one more experiment I wanted to suggest before you have to turn in for the night, so I'd suggest we shelve the conversation for the moment and turn to that, no matter how fascinating it's been."

"What's the experiment?" Harry asked.

Flitwick smirked and flicked his wand, revealing that on the stone floor, behind the initial paper that had 'the book' written on it, there were many more. They'd just been made invisible. "The experiment is already done, we just have to repeat i-" Harry cut the man off by jumping off and scrabbling for the pieces of paper, seeing that they all had the same words in the same writing.

"Why didn't I think of that!" Harry cursed loudly. "Of course, we should test if sight is necessary for the spell to work."

"Not sight, but awareness," Flitwick interrupted. "How about you turn around so you're not looking at the notes and cast the spell." The short man suggested, causing Harry to spin around towards the door, hold up his piece of parchment and quickly wave his wand. Nothing happened and it was only when he turned around to look that he saw that the papers were all glowing, even the ones far away on the other side of the room. It seemed he was getting better at the spell.

"This is interesting, homunem revelio is not sight-based, but lets one know where people are hiding, no matter the sight. Why are they not behaving in the same manner?'' Harry wondered.

"Perhaps because written words are a purely visual medium, whereas someone's life force can be experienced in a multitude of ways," Flitwick suggested.

"I see that we have a lot of limit-testing to do before I can even understand the spell I created," Harry said with a sigh, before clapping his hands. "Let's get to it."