Percypendragon3
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Magiscape 16
🕑 Added 2023-11-05 14:54:38 +0000 UTCChapter 16. Dodging
“Gryffindor!” The Hat yelled.
Harry watched his brother scurry towards the boisterous table, looking a little overwhelmed by his housemates’ unbridled enthusiasm. The Weasley twins appeared particularly jolly with their chant of ‘We got Potter’. And that chant only got louder as more students joined in.
“We got Potter! We got Potter! We got Potter!”
Julian timidly approached the two familiar faces available at that table and sat down beside Neville and Hermione. They were quick to welcome him, distracting him from the jubilant cheers.
Harry gave them a thankful nod.
He was glad that his friend was being kind to his brother in spite of his general dislike for the Potters. Then again, Neville had learnt to tolerate Susan in the last three years, so it mustn’t be that difficult to ignore his bias and treat Julian fairly.
“Disappointed?” Tracey asked, bumping her shoulder against his and peering at him through her thick, semi-round glasses, her golden eyes looking larger than they actually were.
As he took in her appearance, he was struck by the change in her hairstyle.
Instead of her signature two braids, her golden-brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, swishing with her every head movement.
It looked great on her.
“He’ll be safer there,” he replied.
“Can’t argue with that.” She accepted with a grim nod, aware of the cult-like behaviour of the Slytherin House. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Technically, we are already talking about something.”
“Don’t be a smart arse. This will be an important talk.”
Her tone was unusually serious.
His eyes bored into hers as he tried to imagine what this conversation would entail. “Alright. We’ll have a couple of hours before curfew. We can talk in my room then.”
“Thank you.”
After dinner, he asked Tracey to go ahead, wanting to check on his brother.
It seemed Susan had a similar idea because she was walking towards the Gryffindor table too.
He jogged to catch up and took her hand momentarily to give it a squeeze.
She rewarded him with a warm smile and locked their elbows in a fond gesture. “Julian?”
“Julian.” He confirmed, leading her to their little brother.
They were glad to see him mingling with boys his own age. Apparently, he had moved away from Neville and Hermione at some point and started talking with the newbies.
As they reached the Gryffindor table, most of the students were already preparing to leave, having done with the scrumptious feast.
“Julian?” Harry came to stand behind him.
He was careful not to use the nickname ‘Julie’ in front of the first-years. It would be a dumb move to use it and risk letting it stick. He didn’t want to give others any ammunition to bully him, after all. And just because he and Susan teased him with that name didn’t mean he wanted others to do the same.
“Harry!” Julian got off the bench and collided with him.
He was shocked by the hug and almost stumbled back.
Reciprocating it just as affectionately, he asked, “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” Julian answered, but he didn’t pull away and kept clinging to him.
Not minding it in the least, he patted his head, sharing a concerned look with Susan.
Was Julian really alright?
They weren’t given much time to think about his odd behaviour.
“First Years! Follow the Prefect.”
His brother stiffened and stepped back, looking reluctant to follow after his new friends.
“Everything will be fine. We’ll see you in the morning, okay?” Susan embraced and kissed him, holding him as long as she could.
“Good night.” Julian mumbled, dragging himself from Susan’s arms and scuttling after his fellow Gryffindors.
“He must be homesick.” Susan suggested as they roamed the familiar corridors, only a few other students strolled along with them, most having gone to their rooms after finishing dinner.
“Not surprising. He’s shy, unlike us,” Harry added, remembering the first time he met him in Diagon Alley. He had to throw an insult and brawl with him to shatter the awkwardness between them. But once the awkwardness had vanished, Julian quickly became attached to him.
“I’m shy too.” The ginger stated defensively, drawing him away from his thoughts.
“You were shy. Now you’re not.”
“And whose fault is that?” She quipped.
“Yours. I seem to remember how you tried to wrestle me down before grabbing my neck and—”
She quickly elbowed him in the side, interrupting him, her cheeks flaming red at the mention of that shamelessly bold move.
There was still no regret, of course, even if that kiss had been claimed in the heat of the moment. “So, any plans on how we’ll continue our exploration?”
“You have the cloak. We’ll manage somehow. For now, it’s time to part.”
Susan bade him goodnight with a kiss on his cheek.
That was all she could spare in front of others.
Leaving her near the entrance of the Hufflepuff common room, he decided to get back to his own.
Descending the small steps after the secret sliding door, he ambled through the corridor that opened into the Slytherin common room.
The scenery was just as beautiful and eerie as the first time.
The giant chamber, which was half the size of the Great Hall, was adorned with ostentatious candelabras hanging from the high ceiling, casting much-needed light in the otherwise dark space.
The green sofas still acted as the centrepiece of this room, while the glass wall in contact with the lake allowed its shadow to fall on them, tinging the appearance of the entire common room green.
His eyes narrowed at the queue of firsties standing near the centre, where the four green sofas sat, the unnamed property of the Closed Council.
Just like his own first day here, they were asked to sign the magical contract. But unlike him, none of these firsties seemed reluctant to throw away their freedom.
They must be purebloods.
Whatever, it wasn’t his business.
He found Tracey relaxing in an armchair near the stairs that led up to the boys dormitory.
Gesturing her to follow him, he climbed the stairs.
“I’m sorry I didn’t spend much time with you on the train.”
“Don’t worry about it. You were busy with your brother,” Tracey said as they reached the landing, brushing her knuckles against his as they walked.
She wasn’t disappointed and had to hide her pleased smile when he took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers together.
“Whore.” A sixth-year boy muttered under his breath as he passed them, going in the other direction, down towards the common room.
Tracey squeezed his hand, signalling to him that it was alright.
“Wha—”
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
The sound of someone tumbling from the stairs made her wince as they continued on their way.
Harry’s lips twitched as he fought off a grin.
“You didn’t have to do that.” She groaned.
“Then why are you smiling?” He chuckled, yanking her into his room and closing the door behind them.
Her heart raced, and her face turned beet-red. She wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt, glad that they hadn’t been sweating while holding his hand. That would’ve been yucky.
She was all alone with him in his room, and her mind supplied her with enticing images that could turn into reality if she took a leap of faith.
‘Now’s not the time.’ She reprimanded herself, burying the distracting thoughts.
“Tell me, what is this important talk?” Harry asked, moving towards his bed.
He opened his trunk and waved his wand.
Books, clothes, and photos flew around in a flurry, finding their assigned positions in mere seconds.
“That’s efficient. Mind doing the same to my room?” She piped up, unable to squash the urge to compliment him.
“Sure.”
But then she realised he’d have to see her underwear flying out of her trunk, which would make her melt from shame. “You know what, I think I’d rather arrange my things myself.”
“Sure.” He repeated with an amused grin, as if knowing what she was thinking.
Giving him a pout, she began shifting her seat.
Pushing his desk chair near him, she arranged it in such a way that it was facing him. Then she promptly sat down and prepared to finally get to the topic.
“You know how I’ve been secretly meeting with Daphne since the first year?”
The playful grin vanished from his face. “Yes.”
She grimaced at the distaste in his voice. “Well, I wasn’t actually tutoring her. That was a lie. In fact, it was the other way around. She was teaching me and allowing me to learn spells from her family books.”
His eyebrows knit together in confusion, and his green eyes glowed from the anger of her betrayal. “Why? Why did you lie to me? Why is Daphne being kind and helpful to you? I can't get my head around it.”
She leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, anxiously tapping her left foot on the floor. “The thing I’ll say now must remain a secret. It took so much effort to convince Daphne to let me share it with you. I’ll lose her trust if it reaches others. Do you promise not to tell this to anyone else?”
He pressed his lips together and crossed his arms. “I do. Let’s see if this secret was worth lying to me.”
“Daphne is my sister. My half-sister.”
…
“What?”
She told him everything. About her monster father. About her sorry mother. About her flourishing relationship with Daphne. About her blissful stay at the Greengrass Manor. About Daphne’s pathological hatred for anything weak. Even about Daphne’s ‘might makes right’ philosophy. And about the many nights spent together to learn powerful spells in a bid to become strong.
She left nothing and unveiled all her secrets.
By the end of it, she was hunched over with tears in her eyes, the cloud of regret weighing her down.
The sound of Harry’s footsteps made her look up.
He offered his arm, and she readily took it.
Then he pulled her to the bed and made her sit beside him.
“I’m sorry you had to juggle between me and Daphne. If I knew, I wouldn’t be such a jerk to you,” he whispered, his tone full of remorse as he squeezed her hand.
“It’s fine. I would’ve done the same in your place.” She reassured him, leaning against his side. And that was the truth, wasn’t it? If Harry suddenly started meeting someone in secret, she too wouldn’t be able to hide her jealousy.
There was a non-verbal pact between them. That ordained they were special to each other. Only special to each other. And they had known and accepted it since the first year. So his envy of her clandestine meetings with Daphne was understandable. It was even flattering if she was being truthful.
“And I’m also sorry about your parents,” he said, not knowing how to react to the news that her father was a serial rapist.
That man was even worse than his own.
Fuck, comparatively, James Potter was a saint.
“I’ve come to terms with it. Honestly, I’m just happy. Not only do I have a family, but I got my best friend back too.”
A flash of guilt passed over his face, but he ignored it.
He hadn’t done anything wrong. Fooling around with his mum and Susan—even though he liked Tracey—wasn’t wrong. They weren’t even a couple yet; they were just friends.
“While I still dislike Daphne for bullying you, whatever her reasons might be, I’ll tolerate her and won’t be a prick.”
She laughed softly, wrapping her arms around him. “That’s all I want.”
Harry hugged her back, pressing their bodies together and nuzzling his face into the warmth of her neck. He held her tight, as if trying to merge their forms into one; his desire to be as close to her was evident in his actions.
The sweet scent of vanilla enveloped him, emanating from her. He wondered whether she had deliberately chosen this fragrance, knowing it was his favourite, or if it was merely a coincidence.
They stayed that way for a while, allowing themselves this moment of intimacy.
But sooner than he wanted, Tracey pulled back and got up. “I better go before the curfew starts.”
“Good night.”
“Good night.” She placed a light kiss on his lips and practically fled away, slamming the door shut after her.
Harry flopped onto his bed and muttered, “Shit.”
He liked Tracey.
Even now, the lingering warmth and fragrance of her presence made his chest ache. And from the way she had been acting, it was clear she liked him too.
Tracey liked him just as much as he liked her.
BUT, he also liked doing stuff with Susan and his mum.
If Tracey became his girlfriend, he’d have to stop messing around with others and become loyal to her.
…
He didn’t want that.
He wanted to keep ‘exploring’ with Susan. He wanted to keep testing his mum’s oblivious act. He wanted to keep having fun with them.
But he also wanted to be Tracey’s boyfriend.
He had wanted that for so long.
Couldn’t he have both?
~xXxXx~
Harry woke up early the following day, which was not uncommon while he stayed at Hogwarts. Because sometimes he liked to sneak back to the Slytherin dorms from his mum’s personal quarters. And the dark veil of early mornings was a must to remain unnoticed.
But today was different; he was already in his room since he didn’t spend the night with her. The last day was too tiring and heavy, and he didn’t feel like training. So he skipped his visit and simply slept in his own room for once.
Clearing the drowsy web from his mind, he focused on the task at hand.
He pushed off the blanket and got out of bed, his full bladder making him stumble towards the bathroom.
Washing his hands and face, he contemplated showering.
Deciding it would be redundant, he stepped back into his room and rummaged through his wardrobe for a proper outfit.
“Aha!” Grabbing the first pair of joggers and t-shirts, he put them on and searched for his trainers.
He found them under his bed.
Slipping into them, he went out.
The duel with Neville had shown him how physically unfit he was. And it hurt his pride that Neville—who was his own age—managed to force him to reveal his wandless ability.
He had thought he was the most powerful student in his year. That none of his fellow classmates could even dream of beating him in a straight fight, considering how easily magic came to him and the number of spells he already knew.
But that match was an eye-opener.
His prodigal skills in magic meant shit if he couldn’t stay on his feet to perform them. Even hundred powerful spells didn’t matter if he couldn’t strategically use them in combat to his advantage.
So, to strengthen his body and mind, he had begun joining Neville at Longbottom Mansion for physical exercises.
But now that they were at Hogwarts, the two boys had planned to add morning runs to their schedule to work on their stamina. After that, they’d do some light exercise before finally advancing to faux duels.
Presently, it was five thirty.
They had an hour and half until the majority of people began rousing from their beds.
Harry found him waiting at the entrance of the castle.
“You came. I must say I’m surprised,” Neville muttered, adorning a similar outfit: blue joggers and a white t-shirt.
Harry yawned, rubbing his bleary eyes. “It’s too early to bear your scepticism.”
“I wouldn’t be sceptical if you hadn’t taken a day off to recover from our first session.” Neville chuckled, walking alongside him, sauntering outside.
Thankfully, it wasn’t as pitch black as he had feared. They could still see the outline of everything.
In about thirty minutes, the sky would light up enough to make it grey.
Until then, they’d have to manage.
“Sorry that my arms were sore after those push-ups. Next time, I'd rather break them than disappoint you,” Harry grumbled, almost stumbling when he stepped on a pebble.
“You barely did twenty push-ups.” Neville mocked him as they approached the Black Lake.
“I did twenty push-ups. I dislike your tone, Neville with the long bottom,” Harry retorted, snapping his fingers and creating a sphere of light to get some visibility on the grassy path.
He didn’t want to slip on a pebble again.
Neville eyed the light with barely concealed awe, always amazed at how easily he utilised wandless magic. “I definitely haven’t heard that before. Point for originality, Harry.”
“Stretching?” He asked once they reached the bank of the lake, not giving his sardonic tone any attention.
“Yes.”
The next ten minutes were spent doing just that, getting their bodies all warmed up. Even the slight morning chill disappeared as soon as a sheen of sweat enveloped their skins.
Then they stood together, facing the same direction.
“Run as fast and as far as possible?” Harry queried, his tone full of dread, while Neville lightly bounced on his feet.
“Why ask when you already know?” Neville laughed, getting in the mood.
Harry’s smile was charmingly imploring. “I wondered whether we’d take it slow and steady since this is the first day after our return to the castle. A casual jog does sound great to me. Perhaps you think the same.”
“Jogging? What are you? An old man? We start now!” Neville barked and took off like a bullet.
Harry groaned and ran after him as fast as he could. “Motherfucker!”
In the beginning, they weren’t too far apart, but that changed afterwards.
Even when his heart tried to jump out of his throat, Harry kept sprinting. Even when a painful stitch formed in his side, he kept running, staring at an imaginary point in the sky while his legs moved relentlessly.
‘I’m a machine. I don’t get tired. I’m a fucking machine!’
The cold wind felt soothing as it washed over him.
Though he came to appreciate it less and less as his face became numb.
Still, he persevered.
But no matter how hard he tried, Neville kept increasing the gap between them.
When he couldn’t take it anymore, he gradually slowed his pace and came to a halt. ‘I’m not a machine, surprise.’
His t-shirt was damp, and whistling pants echoed in his ears as he dropped onto his knees.
It took more than a minute for the painful stitches to disappear from his sides and another two minutes for his heart rate to come down.
As Harry struggled to his feet again, Neville had changed direction and was running back towards him.
“Run!” Neville hissed as he passed by him, his face pink and his breaths coming out in white puffs. But Neville’s pace remained consistent.
Harry bit back a crude curse and sprinted after him, turning a blind eye to the worsening pain. ‘I’m a cyborg. I don’t get easily tired. I’m a fucking cyborg!’
By the time they returned to the starting point, he was sure his heart was going to burst from all this merciless abuse he had put it through.
He fell down on his butt beside Neville and laid down on his back, looking up at the dark sky. With a sluggish wave of his hand, a ball of light lit up the immediate area around them.
“If you were a girl… (pant) and had… (pant) nice arse, I’d have… (pant) liked… running… (pant) behind you.” Harry snickered between his laboured breaths.
“You’re mental. And a pervert.” Neville shook his head, looking down at him amusedly. “Though I won’t say no if you invite some hot girl to join us.”
“Who has the best arse in our… (pant) year?”
“Hannah and Padma were tied for first place if you go by the previous year’s list,” Neville said dryly, seeing where this was going.
Harry grinned shamelessly, sitting up and wiping his sweaty face with the back of his hand. “You think Hannah will be okay with becoming my motivating force?”
“She’ll laugh it off the first time. Then she will laugh again after murdering you if you remain persistent.”
“True. Let’s not risk that.” He nodded, slowly getting up.
Neville got up too, not looking as drained as him. “That’s surprisingly wise of you.”
“Keep mum, Neville with the ugly bottom. I can be wise when I want to. Don’t patronise me.”
Neville ignored the childish insult and advanced to the next task. “Fifty push-ups, two sets.”
“We will see.” Harry scrunched his nose at the number.
Both of them took their positions and began.
In the end, Harry was able to do fifty, but in two sets instead of one.
Neville was there to tease him about his failure, of course.
After that, they did various exercises, targeting their arms, legs, and core. Ranging from squats to sit-ups and everything in between.
They took a fifteen-minute rest once the physical exercises were done.
Now it was time for the duel since they could finally see each other without needing the lighting charm.
They stood opposite one another with their wands ready at their sides.
“Only stunners and no shields,” Neville yelled.
“Alright,” Harry shouted back.
This was not a new thing. They had done this before. It was meant to improve their casting speed and dodging. And Harry needed that. He had the power and the speed. But sometimes he got caught up thinking about which spell to use to look cool. And that wouldn’t do in a real fight.
“Stupefy!”
Harry turned left, letting it pass harmlessly, knowing he couldn’t jump around too much due to his exhausted body. That meant he’d have to use short movements to conserve energy and last as long as he could.
His stunner was silently cast, giving him an upper hand.
But Neville’s experience showed when he didn’t even bat an eye and simply tilted his head.
“Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!”
Harry pursed his lips and weaved through the net of spells that tried to box him in. He had to jump to avoid the last spell, and his legs made it clear they didn’t appreciate that.
His wand moved furiously in response, and he returned the courtesy, raining stunners on his friend.
Neville skillfully danced through the red jets of light, but his movements were slower and clumsier than normal. Which was to be expected since they had just put their bodies through a wringer. They should already be rewarded for sticking to their duelling schedule instead of simply giving up.
That was how the remaining time was spent—dodging and shooting stunners, trying to strike the other or make them keel over from sheer fatigue.
Harry won the round, not because he was faster or more energetic, but because magic came easier to him, and he was successful in throwing enough stunners at Neville to make him stagger and faceplant on the ground.
“We better head back,” Harry said before Neville could ask for a rematch.
The sun was fully out by now.
Although, seeing the state of their clothes, people would think that the two boys had been out in a rainstorm.
“Tomorrow is the day off for recovery, right?” Harry asked as they trudged towards the castle, doing their best to ignore the distressed cries of their tortured bodies.
Neville rolled his eyes at the expected question. “No. If you keep taking days off, you won’t be able to make this into a habit and will quickly revert back to being lazy. We will only have days off when I say we need it.”
“I hate that you’re right.” Harry sighed, climbing up the steps.
One thing he had learnt after he started exercising was that while climbing up stairs was painful, climbing down was a whole other thing.
They went their separate ways after entering the castle.
In his room, Harry took a long, relaxing shower. And his energy was almost back.
Almost.
But he knew that the weariness was simply hiding and would inconveniently show up either tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.
With his morning ablutions done, he descended to the common room, praying he wouldn’t trip on the stairs and break his neck.
Tracey was seated alone on a light-green couch and had a notebook spread open in her lap.
“Good morning.” He slumped beside her, his legs thanking him for this small mercy.
“Morning. Hungry?” She asked after pecking him on the mouth.
He blinked and murmured, “Starving.”
“Aren’t you always?” She chuckled, appearing extra chirpy as she got off the sofa and offered her arm.
He clasped her soft, warm palm and allowed her to drag him away from the Slytherin common room.
It felt nice.
Getting to hold her hand.
Receiving cute kisses from her.
But he wasn’t sure how to handle that.
Did he want her to keep doing that? Absolutely.
Did he want to officially date her? Not really.
They sat down at the Gryffindor table. Harry was happy to see that Julian wasn’t as tense as last night. And when Susan and Hannah too joined them, his nervousness altogether disappeared, and he began acting like the brat he actually was.
Harry and Susan beamed at each other.
Later that day, after their classes were done, the two older siblings found time for themselves in an abandoned classroom and revelled together, languidly making out with each other.
And that night, before curfew, Tracey came to his room. And then she almost kissed him for real before chickening out, leaving him both relieved and disappointed.
~xXxXx~
The first couple of months of his fourth year passed by in a blink.
He spent every morning with Neville and constantly bemoaned the physical purgatory that he had to go through. And no, they weren’t even able to find a hot girl to run before them to motivate them.
His training with Magiscape continued too. Now, he and his mum were trying to see how far their range was. Did they have to be in the same room to use the ethereal tendrils? Or could they do it from afar and without any line of sight?
There was no success yet, but they were hopeful.
The rest of his time was spent acting oblivious to Tracey’s antics, where she tried to ‘subtly’ inform him that they should already start dating.
It was only because she was waiting for his proposal that he didn’t have to face the intimidating question, ‘Will you go out with me?’
But as Tracey was becoming more blatant and desperate, it was clear that he didn’t have much time before that happened.
And the reason he was acting oblivious to her invitation was the same as before.
Susan and his mum.
He hadn’t stopped having fun with them. Most of his nights were spent sleeping in his mum’s bed. And he’d have to be gay to not fondle his mum’s juicy tits when she refused to cover them.
It was the same with Susan.
With the help of her Invisibility Cloak, they easily found isolated classrooms to continue exploring their passion for each other’s desirable bodies.
At this point, they were finally getting somewhere. Last night, he almost convinced her to take off her knickers and bare her entire body for his viewing pleasure.
It was the lack of time that stopped them from doing something other than just grinding their cores to climax.
“What’re you thinking?” Tracey nudged his legs with her own, pulling him away from his reverie.
The two were forced to sit at the Slytherin table because of the Halloween feast. And while he was annoyed at missing the chance to be with his family and other friends, she seemed to relish having him all to herself.
“Nothing,” he answered, wondering how cruelly she’d kill him if she knew he was having lewd thoughts about Susan and his mum.
Picking at her own food, she muttered. “You know, Pansy is dating Draco.”
“Oh? Good for them, I guess,” Harry said, trying his best not to grin at her attempt number fifty-six.
Was he really counting the number of times she had tried to cajole him to ask her out? Yes.
She nodded and looked at him with a gleam in her golden eyes. “While I don’t like them, I can respect them for living their youths. This is our time to explore new relationships, after all.”
“Like boyfriend-girlfriend thing?”
“Exactly!”
“Do you want a boyfriend?”
“I’m open to it, I guess.” She blushed.
“I guess I’m open to finding a girlfriend too.” He confessed. “But I don’t think anyone is interested in me.”
She shook her head vehemently and took his hand in hers. “You’re being self-conscious, Harry. If what I’ve heard is right, then someone very close to you wants to become your girlfriend.”
Harry hummed. “Hannah?”
“No.”
“Don’t tell me it’s Susan. While she isn’t my sister by blood, it would still feel weird dating her.” Harry mumbled bashfully, hiding his glee at her irritated look.
“No.”
“Well, I don’t know who else then.” He smiled beatifically, making her eyebrows twitch.
She shot him a knowing look, and he almost laughed, but before she could smack him in the face, Dumbledore spoke up from the head table, saving him.
“It seems I forgot to make an important announcement earlier; pardon my forgetfulness. It looks like old age is finally catching up to me.” Dumbledore began, his eyes twinkling unapologetically. “And since you all are in the middle of feasting, I’ll keep it short. The Duelling Club has been reopened. Pester Professor Black for more information. That was it, now you can go back to your feast.”
The steady murmurs of excitement grew while Professor Black sent her coldest glare at the ‘comedian’.
Harry’s eyes immediately sought Neville’s at the Gryffindor table, and the two boys shared an eager grin.
“This will be fun.”
~xXxXx~
In his room, Harry found a letter addressed to him.
To,
Mr. Evans.
Dear Mister Evans, it has come to my attention that you lack certain education. And as your professor—even though you’ve never attended a single class of mine—it behoves me to change that immediately. It is, after all, my duty to help you and stop you from making mistakes, both fatal and embarrassing.
I will be eagerly awaiting your arrival in my classroom.
Yours sincerely,
Ms. Evans.
Harry blinked at the letter. “What the fuck, mum?”
