Harry had thought long and hard about the events that had transpired that fateful night a few days ago. He'd come to the conclusion that he wasn't all that bothered by the whole thing. He'd survived with all his limbs and his mind intact and the perpetrator was dead. He had made himself the promise to not get too involved in dangerous events and what he regretted the most about the year was that he'd followed Twix to the forest's edge all those months ago. Her snapping him up as she broke into the castle hadn't been anything he could have controlled, although he definitely was planning on going out less late in the evening in the future. A study session in the room of requirement, which then creating direct access to the Hufflepuff common room would do. The only reason he hadn't gone back like that on the particular night in question had been because he had wanted to get some fresh air after the draining practice session with the hat.
He was surprised how blasé he was about the whole thing, but the biggest fuck up really hadn't been his fault. Also, it might have helped that for all the horribleness and terror he'd experienced that night, it had just been one night. His rebirth had heralded a time of terror much longer and much more existential than just one life-and-death scare. He propped himself up on an elbow and glanced to the left side of the great hall, in which the first years were currently writing their charms exam. A frustrated Montague stared down at his exam paper, obviously not even having picked up the anti-cheat quill. A lot of the first-year Slytherins, mostly the boys and mostly Montague, had been having memory problems throughout the week. Which was very unfortunate, as this was the week that all the exams had taken place. While it had surely been understood by the faculty that the boys were being sabotaged, there was nothing they could do but keep letting them take the exams in the hopes that for this day they would get to keep their memories. What it would all culminate into would be the fact that all of them would likely have to redo the exams in the summer, when Harry wouldn't have access to the boys anymore.
Sucked to be them, he thought as one of them angrily crushed the quill in his fist. He hadn't dosed them with a lot, which was also the reason nobody had figured out his method yet, but just a bit of the memory potion would hinder one from actively recalling information in a high-stress environment. Harry sincerely hoped that all the boys would get the shit beaten out of them by their fathers when they came home, due to the delay on the exams. Maybe it would teach them to study instead of putting their noses in other people's business.
It was scary what one could do with an invisibility spell and access to a person's food. Harry had honestly almost scared himself with how easy it had been to poison the boys at mealtime. A combination of being invisible, unhearable and his hydromancy had made sure that the potion had basically jumped into the boy's throat in the morning.
And once they'd stopped coming to breakfast, he'd simply started smearing a bit of the potion on their clothes, so that they were perpetually inhaling the fumes. The whole thing had even made him a bit paranoid, so he'd made sure to learn the bubblehead charm and a potion-detecting spell. He'd taught the former to Penny as well, trying to give her a moment of victory to surpass any trauma, but like him, she didn't seem to hung up on her stay in the hospital wing. It seemed that accidents just happened in the Wizarding World and people were used to getting over them.
It was a weird mindset for Harry, but he understood where it was coming from. Healthcare in the wizarding world was, well, magical. Even the worst injuries could be fixed in a week. Which is why quidditch was a thing, he mused as he went to hand in his exam and left the examination hall. There were still thirty minutes left, but he didn't feel like sitting there any longer. He'd already solved the sheet in the first ten minutes. He simply hadn't wanted to discourage the other students too much and had thus waited a bit more. He wondered if he could learn Legilimency for next year and bother the Slytherins that way? He shook his head. No initiation if it ain't retaliation was a good motto to go by in this case.
"Mr. Evans?" a voice asked from his left and Harry whipped his head around to look at the headmaster and Professor Flitwick, who seemed to have been idly chatting with the headmaster outside the examination hall.
"hullo, professor, hullo, headmaster," Harry said as he steered towards the two men, who were looking at him curiously.
"Already done with the exam?" Flitwick asked and received a nod. The short man shrugged, "want to just get the practical over with? Might as well turn in early today if we can get students done sooner."
"Sounds like a good idea professor, it's the last exam after all," Harry said as he followed Flitwick, who'd started walking towards the hall in which the practical examinations occurred. Dumbledore joined them and completed the trio in which no one was closer than 30 years to each other in age. Harry watched Flitwick shrug as he wordlessly opened the practice hall and went to sit behind the table in the middle, joined by the headmaster on the right.
"I have to invigilate the runes exam tomorrow, still," the short professor said, "Professor Babbling has fallen sick, unfortunately, but I'm free afterwards." Harry was about to reply but Dumbledore cleared his throat and thus ended the conversation.
"Shall we begin?" he asked the two of them and received nods. The old man steepled his fingers and leaned forward on the table, before chuckling, "Haven't been in this position in a while," he commented before returning to the topic. "Now Mr. Evans, I heard from Minerva that in addition to a very well-done organic transfiguration, you also showcased the water-making spell in your practical. Since it also qualifies as a charm, would you care to demonstrate it?"
Harry looked around the hall, which was done in the same style as the rest of the castle, all flat surfaces and gleaming gothic edges. "Where should I aim, sir?" he asked, at which point Dumbledore twitched a sleeve and a wooden basin appeared to Harry's left, the boy, for his part, nodded, pulled up his wand and concentrated. He didn't want to use too much energy as he might need it to showcase other spells, but first-year charms really didn't take that much effort, so he could go a bit wild. Scrunching his brows and closing his eyes he imaged clearly the desired result and incantated slowly as he thrust his wand forward like a fencer, towards the basin, "Aguamenti!" he cast and a pressurised stream of water escaped his wand and started filling the basin. If he had to compare it to anything it would have been a particularly powerful garden hose. He watched for a few seconds as the water level rose, before cutting off the spell when it reached the middle point of the basin, not having enough power to continue.
"The incantation and the wand movement were not quite perfect, as expected from something self-taught," Flitwick critiqued, as he noted something down on a piece of parchment while adjusting his glasses.
"The execution was near flawless, a high understanding of the theory and a good visualisation must have been present for the spell to work so well despite the small errors, I'd almost say that a smaller version could have been achieved wordlessly," Dumbledore argued, before turning to Harry. "Your understanding of theory and willpower is obviously sufficient, you should be able to cast the spell without an incantation, if not without the wand movement, can you show us?" he asked, causing Harry to stare at the man in bafflement.
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Albus Dumbledore, was a meddler, a schemer and sometimes a moron. Harry looked into the man's twinkling blue eyes and suddenly realised why some people also considered him one of the greatest wizards of the current age. To realise that he was capable of silent casting just by noticing the weakness in his form and realising the success must have been supplemented by a high amount of willpower and knowledge…
Scary.
"Well, theory really shouldn't be an issue for someone already making spells in their first year, so I understand your reasoning. Why don't you give silent casting a go, Harry, take as much time as you need,"
Flitwick added and under the watchful gazes of two people highly competent in their fields, Harry sighed and closed his eyes. Without thinking too much about it he centred himself via meditation and thrust his wand again at the basin, chanting aguamenti in his mind. A weak stream, reminiscent of a slightly powerful water gun escaped his wand and he cut it off before it could embarrass him too much. Clapping resounded through the hall and Harry looked up to see that he was receiving applause.
"Remarkable," Dumbledore commented, "I assume it is not your first time casting silently?" the man asked and Harry couldn't do anything but nod.
"I came upon the technique and thought it useful, I've experimented with it before," he admitted and received a smile for his honesty. "I could probably do better with a spell that's not part transfiguration, Charms are my much stronger suit."
"Still, what grade would this aguamenti receive if the person being tested was the intended audience, a fifth or sixth year?" Flitwick wondered aloud, continuing to scratch on his parchment.
"An Acceptable, shoddy incantation and wand-work, but it seems to be functioning. Plus points for silent casting, but not many due to the difference in results," Dumbledore said off-handedly.
Ouch, Harry thought and grimaced.
"Outstanding work for a first-year, of course. In addition to the spell creation and the doubtlessly perfect score Harry will receive on the exam, this edges the grade beyond O+ territory." Flitwick again.
Harry stayed silent throughout the exchange, not wanting to reveal more of his secrets. Dumbledore seemed to sense his hesitation and dropped a bombshell, "It hasn't happened in a while. But Harry," the man said and turned to the first-year. "Your charmswork is teetering on the edge between an O+ and extreme measures such as class advancement being taken, would you like to tip the scales?"
"You have expressed an interest in skipping ahead in your schooling, Vector came and talked to me recently about your wish to start arithmancy a year early and to discuss that part of your paper with me," Flitwick added.
"That would be pretty cool…" Harry mumbled and squirmed, trying to hide from the two intense men analysing his young nubile body. He was crying on the inside. What fucking first-year exam, this was way too hard-core. He really shouldn't have shown off a conjuration in transfiguration.
"Go on then, my boy," Dumbledore said reassuringly and Harry wracked his head for what he could show off. He decided to start small by whipping out his wand again and casting a Lumos. The examiners didn't seem disappointed by the simple spell and watched closely to see what he would do with it. Harry began cycling the light through the colours that he'd practised in his free time. Pink, red, green, brown, yellow, blue, purple and then extinguished the spell.
"Will-based spell modification, seven colours," Flitwick murmured as his pen scratched the parchment.
"Can you make it gold?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry lit the light at the tip of his wand again and tried to create gold, but it didn't seem to work, he willed more, but all he got for his efforts was a dark yellow, bordering on orange. He shook his head and dropped the spell.
"I see," was all Dumbledore deigned to comment, "continue," he said.
Harry shook his head and brought his wand up to his face. "Bulla," he cast as he moved his wand in a hoof-like pattern. A fragile bubble of oxygen formed around his head and Harry demonstratively walked around with it. It wasn't the most stable construction, yet, but it was functional.
"Another sixth-year charm, although it leaves much to be desired in comparison to the water-making charm" Flitwick commented.
Harry's pride was hurt a bit, to be honest, he was an adult, not an eleven-year-old moron. He practised seriously, and often. He guessed it was time to let the cat out of the bag and secure himself a spot in the third-year charms class. "I saved the best for last," he muttered and cast the examiners a dark look, before tapping his wand on his head and turning himself invisible.
He walked around and observed the two men, both who seemed to be able to follow him despite his camouflage.
"Remarkable!" Dumbledore exclaimed and stood up, he walked to Harry, who'd stopped moving and examined him from up close. "Wouldn't this merit a sixth year an outstanding grade?" the old man asked Flitwick, who was leaning back in his chair and tapping his quill on his nose.
"Wordless, near-perfect camouflage, no blurriness, just a faint outline against the background, I'd say it exceeds expectations," he critiqued and Harry dropped the spell, feeling himself become dizzy. He sat down on the ground as Dumbledore went back to sit on the table, thus towering over Flitwick who had remained seated.
"That's all I can do," Harry said. "I'm spent," he complained and received a set of nods before the two men exchanged a look.
"Honestly," Flitwick began. "It would be a waste to have you sit in second-year charms, likely bored out of your mind."
"I don't want to miss any theory," Harry retorted, "I want a strong foundation by the time I leave Hogwarts."
Flitwick shook his head, "You already asked Vector to send you the relevant theory so that you can study it during the summer, I don't see an issue for you to add charms to that. Two months is really too much free time anyway."
"And the practical side? I can't really do much with the trace on."
"How about I visit you in the last week of summer and walk you through it, I could disable the trace for a bit. If you succeed you skip the second year, if not then not and we keep our current arrangement of you being given more lee-way in class," Flitwick suggested. All the meanwhile Dumbledore was nodding along as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Harry had never heard of anyone skipping grades before at Hogwarts. He considered the pros and cons of keeping a low profile and then realised that he was planning on leaving Wizarding Britain to their Dark Lord problem after the seventh year anyway. It wouldn't really matter, would it, if he excelled a bit too much?
"Transfiguration, I thought my showing was quite strong?" Harry prodded, causing Dumbledore to chuckle.
"Even if your showing had been as strong as your showing in Charms, the staff wouldn't want to overburden you with a third subject you'd be taking beyond your years. And while the aquamenti was well-executed, the rest of your practical work was within the range of normal excellency, as far as that exists," the headmaster remarked.
"I'll be sure to focus on transfiguration next year then," Harry said.
"I'd suggest perfecting your aquamenti and learning some vanishing as well, it's tricky, but you should be able to. If you add some organic transfiguration on top of that I'm sure you'd impress Minerva."
"I'll be looking forward to the theory material for Charms, then," Harry said and made to leave.
"Mr. Evans," Dumbledore said, halting him in his tracks. "Horace told me you made an excellent boil-cure potion for your potions practical, I'm glad to see you're shoring up weaknesses and not only working on your strengths. He also said to raid the cupboard, whatever that may mean," the man finished and Harry could literally hear the twinkling in his voice.
Harry couldn't help but laugh. "It's one of the only potions I know how to make, I just got lucky," he threw into the room before leaving the hall. The second the doors slammed shut behind him he started shaking, he gripped his arm with a hand hard enough to leave a bruise. "Fuck," he muttered, realizing that he'd just gotten the attention of the headmaster. From what he knew the man hadn't been present for any other exam. He tried to think of what this meant, but the only conclusion he could come to was that the man was genuinely interested in his skills as a magic user. It couldn't be that the events in the chamber of the mind, how Harry had decided to call that chamber in the forbidden section of the library, had been noted. If they had been, Harry would have undergone a much stricter interrogation. He looked at the hall in which the students were still sitting their theoretical exams and shook his head. Penny and Cedric would do fine without him, now it was time to go to Slughorn and pick up the promised ingredients, afterwards, he could maybe squeeze in a few hours of Occlumency practice with the hat.
One good thing that had come from the chamber of the mind was that there was nothing better for one's training than a real life or death situation, his skills had improved immensely after the event, something that the hat had picked up on and complimented him for. It had said that he was starting to become passable, which was a good improvement from the incompetent he'd surely been when he'd entered the school for the first time last year. Overall, he was satisfied with how the year had gone. He'd even come to an important realisation. Just because he didn't seek out trouble, didn't mean that it wouldn't seek out him. Thus, the priority for next year was to learn some of the more aggressive aspects of magic.