cywscross | Sun and Moon (Pt.2)

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: When Harry Potter is due to start Hogwarts, everyone expects the Boy-Who-Lived. No one is prepared for who they actually get.

“Name two potions that require the use of stinging nettles,” Snape demands.

“Fresh nettles for the Boil-Cure Potion,” Harry volleys back. “And dried nettles for the Herbicide Potion.”

Snape’s lip curls into a sneer. “I asked only for the two potions, Potter. I have no wish to listen to you brag. Five points from Ravenclaw.”

He turns away, snapping out orders for them to pair up and begin the Boil-Cure Potion, shooting a vicious glare at Ron and Seamus when they both snigger at Harry’s misfortune. Harry rolls his eyes before reaching for his cauldron. If he only named the two potions, the potions master would no doubt have docked points for not specifying. Merlin give him strength to deal with the man’s long-time grudge.

Still, at least it’s only five points. The last time Harry was ‘too general’, Snape docked ten points.

“Potter.”

Harry blinks and glances up to meet Terry Boot’s slightly nervous gaze. It’s easy to know what the boy wants. Harry shrugs and inclines his head at the front of the classroom. “I’ll set up here and you get the ingredients?”

Terry brightens, quickly nodding before scooting off to collect the necessary ingredients. Harry goes back to lighting a fire under his cauldron. This is the first time Snape’s told them to pair up for a potion, and while Harry is on polite terms with his roommates, they aren’t what anyone would call friends. Terry never participated in the war, or at the very least, he didn’t play a particularly significant part in it – Harry doesn’t even know how many of his old yearmates who weren’t active in the war managed to escape the British Isles before floos were shut down or monitored and apparition wards were raised – so Harry doesn’t have any latent problems with the other Ravenclaw.

Harry can brew this potion in his sleep but Terry’s noticeably read up on it too, rarely needing to refer to the textbook, and he pulls his own weight well enough. Harry only needs to cut in twice to prevent the boy from crushing the snake fangs into a rough powder instead of a fine powder, and ensuring that he heated the mixture for ten seconds instead of any more than that, and Terry never seems annoyed; if anything, he always looks relieved, glancing fervently around for Snape right after a near blunder before whispering a thank-you and continuing his work. The potion is divided into two parts so they each do one, and by the end of class, they have a perfect cure for boils in front of them.

“You’re really good at Potions,” Terry remarks after they turn in their vial to a sour-looking Snape. The boy falls into step beside Harry as they leave the dungeons. “I mean, you didn’t fumble a step at all. Then again, I can say that for all our classes. You must study a lot.”

Harry hums noncommittally as they climb a set of stairs, clumps of other Ravenclaws and Gryffindors all doing the same. “It just takes practice. You did pretty well today too.”

“I would’ve melted your cauldron if you didn’t stop me with the snake fangs,” Terry points out dryly.

“It’s your first time,” Harry waves a hand. “You’ll remember from now on, and that’s what matters most.”

Terry nods thoughtfully, and then he cocks his head in puzzlement when they reach an intersection and Harry turns to face the left corridor instead of the right. “We have History of Magic next, don’t we? Or am I forgetting something?”

Harry shrugs, adjusting the strap of his bag when it slips a bit. “I don’t go to History of Magic anymore.”

The scandalized expression on Terry’s face is rather amusing. “What? But you can’t skip!”

“I’ve been skipping for over a month now,” Harry reveals, wondering why this is news.

“You have?” Terry frowns. “I always assumed you were sitting behind me or something. But… you can’t just skip!”

Harry sighs. “Binns doesn’t care. He doesn’t even notice whether or not you’re sleeping, and he certainly doesn’t notice whether or not you’re actually there. And the only thing he drones on about is the goblin rebellions. I bet he’ll still be lecturing that come June, and we actually do need to know more than that for finals, you realize. I’d rather just self-study. I definitely learn more that way.”

Terry makes a face but he’s stubborn enough to persist, “Well, what about essays?”

“He’s a ghost,” Harry reminds the boy in wry tones. “How is he supposed to mark them?”

Terry looks horrified. “You mean he doesn’t-”

“Nope,” Harry chirps. “They’re basically meant for practice. And if you compare the final exams every year, the questions have been the same since Binns died. The essay topics too.”

“Then who marks the finals?” Terry sqawks, looking increasingly dismayed.

“Our Heads of House,” Harry replies briskly. “They don’t have time to mark essays and homework on a regular basis but they’ll grade the finals for Binns.”

Terry stares from Harry to the corridor leading to the History of Magic classroom and then back to Harry. “…He really won’t notice if we don’t attend?”

“He hasn’t said anything about my absence, has he?” Harry enquires.

“No,” Terry admits. “Right, well, there’s no point going then.” He dithers for a moment. “Are you going to the library now?”

Harry nods. “I want to finish that Transfiguration essay McGonagall assigned us.”

Terry blinks. “She assigned that yesterday. It’s not due until the end of October.”

“Yes,” Harry nods. “And I have the conclusion to wrap up.”

Terry stares some more. “…Can I come with you?”

Harry sighs again, turning in the general direction of the library. “Feel free, Boot. You better not be a talker though.”

“It’s the library,” Terry says like that explains everything.

Harry rolls his eyes. Ravenclaws.

~0~0~0~

Dear Harry,

You have fingers in more pies than I do at least. Daddy is away on one of his trips again and he won’t be back until January so I’m only working on my garden and muddling through court procedures and the records you owled me for the case we’re building up for Sirius. There really isn’t much; I guess your parents didn’t want too many details on record just in case someone managed to get into your family vaults. So I won’t need Wormtail just yet, although I’ve always been more partial to Pin the Tail on the Rat. Or darts. Or maybe a game of Cat and Mouse. I’ll even buy a kneazle for the occasion.

I am more surprised you haven’t deliberately pranked Weasley and even Granger. Possibly even Dumbles. Would you like some ideas? I’m sure I can contribute something suitably entertaining for both of us, and then you can show me a memory of it over winter break. As much as I miss you too, sneaking out might draw Dumbles’ attention, however unlikely, so it’s better to wait. You can make it up to me over the holidays by creating a heliopath for me. And you can take me to Paris in the winter if you insist on an overly romantic gesture (but I really do prefer a heliopath, Harry; you’d best remember this).

As for the Slytherins, perhaps you should continue to wait and see for a while. There isn’t too much of a rush at this point, and it would be more strategically advantageous for us later on if they approached you first because they want an alliance or even a friendship with you, and you’ll have no Weasel to offend them and chase them away. Your instincts are always right though, so if you think you see some sort of opportunity, don’t hesitate to take it.

I do not like being apart from you. The thought of you at Hogwarts so close to Dumbles without backup doesn’t sit well with me. You will write if you even suspect anything, right? This isn’t an option, and you better not keep quiet because of something silly like worrying me or thinking you’re being paranoid. I’ll be very cross if you do.

Miss you,

Luna

~0~0~0~

Terry becomes something a friend, although sometimes mentor and borderline older brother figure might be more fitting. It helps that the boy isn’t a chatterbox, though he does talk more than Harry. They study together, and every few days, Harry spares a couple hours to tutor Terry in whatever the Ravenclaw wants. The boy is hardworking without being overzealous, much to Harry’s relief.

And when he sees Harry scribbling out several Arithmancy equations, Terry instantly begs Harry to teach him, persisting until Harry capitulates.

“This is much more interesting than first-year courses,” Terry mumbles during dinner one night, Numerology and Grammatica in one hand and a fork in the other. “It’s like muggle math. Why can’t they teach this instead of Defence or something? Is math not important? It isn’t as if we can understand much of anything Quirrell says anyway.”

“DADA is a core subject,” Harry murmurs after swallowing some mashed potatoes, feeling mildly amused. “And Quirrell isn’t the best teacher for the job.”

“I’ll say,” Terry huffs. “I don’t know why the Headmaster hired him to teach a subject that he’s terrified of.”

Harry says nothing, focusing on his dinner. He tips a casual glance up at the Head Table. Dumbledore looks as grandfatherly as ever, twinkling genially at everyone as he surveys the students sitting before him.

Harry shifts his gaze back to his food. He doesn’t have much of an appetite anymore.

~0~0~0~

My lovely Moon,

You can be singularly devious and wonderfully spiteful when you have a mind to. I quite like a round of darts myself. A few of the pranks I have in mind might be somewhat overboard though. They are still children in this time, remember?

As always, your advice is both welcomed and reassuring. I shall bide my time with the Slytherins for now.

And if it is a heliopath you want, then a heliopath you shall have as soon as I see you again.

Love,

Harry