"It was completely crazy," Harry said to Penny as they watched blurs of red and yellow spatially overpower the Quidditch pitch in a mad scramble for points and glory. "Professor Potter just broke the window with a punch before jumping out, and then he flew off on a broom. Couldn't believe my eyes for a second there."

Penny nodded several times at the story, wide-eyed. It had been some time since the events of the party, but while other students had chatted about how awesome Professor Potter was, Harry and Tonks, who'd actually been close enough to witness everything, had remained tight-lipped.

Harry because he didn't like perpetuating rumours, or gossip and Tonks because she'd apparently been too busy dating the Gryffindor seeker, Charlie Weasley. Or so at least, gossip claimed. Not that Harry was listening, or interested. What Tonks did in her free time was completely her own choice and had nothing to do with him. As long as she was available for the duel she'd promised, or rather, insisted on for tonight, he couldn't care less.

Anyway, neither of the two people at school who'd really witnessed the incident had been saying anything and none of the adults really felt like divulging anything to the children, so Penny had been badgering Harry for a while now to spill the tea. Which he just had.

Not much had actually happened from his perspective of course. The professor had been back by Monday, giving lessons like nothing had changed, even if his face was a bit more pinched and his shoulders more hunched than before. Harry would be able to assess the man later today when they would have their first tutoring session in return for essay correction. The whole thing had gotten a bit delayed through the fact that Professor Potter now had to also leave occasionally for what was presumably his auror duties.

"Is that it?" Penny asked.

Harry just shrugged. "I told you it wasn't much. Well, there was one thing he told me, but it's not really connected to what happened that night."

A cheer arose and they both paused their conversation to watch with bated breath, as Cedric, who was flying for the first time, made a daring dive. Charlie, the Gryffindor seeker, didn't bother following, which was the correct decision as there was apparently no snitch to be caught. Cedric rose back up empty-handed, and the two seekers resumed their hawkish circling.

"Well, what is it?" Penny asked impatiently, returning back on topic.

"Professor Potter said that he didn't actually kill Greyback. Only that he managed to finagle with a portkey he was wearing and send him off, place unknown."

Penny shuddered and looked around anxiously. "No way! Does that mean he could still be out there, somewhere?"

"More than half the earth is water, he probably drowned if the randomised effect was global," Harry reassured the girl, who grimaced at his words.

"Let's hope so," Penny said reluctantly, fixing her gaze back on the game. Hufflepuff was leading 100-60, but considering Gryffindor had the more experienced seeker they could still swing the whole thing around. As if reading their thoughts Charlie Weasley suddenly dove towards the goals of his team, despite the quaffle action currently going down at the Hufflepuff gates. He seemed to have spotted something.

Cedric, who hadn't been too far off, followed, but simply couldn't keep up. It seemed that in the case of a straight-up downward race like this, the heavier seeker had the speed advantage.

Harry groaned as Charlie's outstretched arm closed around a golden glimmer and the boy started to do a victory lap, holding up the snitch. He heard some curses from around him, along with one light and short-lived cheer, while the entire Gryffindor stands imploded. A wave of red and gold acting like they'd just won the World Cup. They were probably going to have a party tonight, Harry deduced. Everyone's motivation for schoolwork had been progressively reaching the dumps as the Christmas break neared. The Gryffindors were probably glad for an excuse to forget about the whole thing for a while, especially the older years, who were being crushed by exams and pressure from all sides.

Penny and he stood up, along with the rest of the house to leave, and perhaps to console Cedric on his first game, and his first loss. Harry threw an eye at the professor's stand, where James and McGonagall seemed engrossed in a conversation. He'd made out to meet the man after the game, so he decided to dawdle around a bit, before making his way towards the DADA classroom.

"See you later today, kid," Tonks said as she squished past him on the stairs and hopped over the railing once they'd descended enough for her not to break her legs doing so, thus skipping the rush of students going back to the castle to avoid the chilly onset of winter.

"You're duelling her again?" Penny asked as they waded through the grass towards the Hufflepuff player's tent.

Harry shushed his friend and looked around suspiciously. "Not so loud," he said. "I just recently found out that duelling isn't allowed at Hogwarts."

"You're such a delinquent," Penny said while she rolled her eyes. "Honestly, disregarding your grades, you should never have been allowed to skip classes just because of your attitude towards curfew."

Harry shot her an offended look as they set up watch by the player's tent to wait for their friend. He sniffed. "I don't think genius should be repressed just because it doesn't conform to societal conventions. Nobody gets on Dumbledore's ass for his clear disregard of common fashion sense."

"Can someone who got only an EE on the most recent arithmancy quiz really be referred to as a genius?" a voice suddenly said from behind them. Harry turned around to see Justin, a brown-haired beef-cake who was one of the beaters on the Hufflepuff team, and also in fourth year arithmancy.

"I remember you having an A," Harry retorted.

"It's part of the image, if I was good at sports and had good grades none of the girls would believe I'm a bad boy," The fourteen-year-old said, causing Harry, Penny and the entire Quidditch team who'd heard the claim to snort and laugh. Justin blushed, muttered something about haters and rushed off. Hopefully to study Arithmancy.

"Good flying," Harry said to Cedric, once the other players, all older, had spread out in their own directions. He quickly glanced to check these directions and noted that worryingly few of them were going towards a shower.

"I'll do better next time," Cedric replied with a sigh and started trudging off towards the castle. Harry and Penny joined the march and walked for a bit in silence.

"Weasley is in his last year?" Penny eventually asked.

"Or second to last, I'm not sure," Harry replied.

"It's his last year. All the other houses don't have very good seekers, or they're also leaving. This is just practice, next year Hufflepuff gets the cup," Cedric promised confidently as they entered the castle and halted at an intersection.

"Well, this is where we part ways, I'm going to go check in with Professor Potter," Harry said.

"I'm going to shower and lay in bed."

"I'll come with you to the dorms, Ced," Penny finished. They split one there, having grown comfortable enough as friends that there was no point in an extended goodbye sequence.

Harry noted how the castle was bustling with activity since there had just been a game going on, but it was much better in comparison to the suffering he'd experienced in the stands during the actual match. He really needed to figure out how to localise the muffling charm on his ears and invert the effect so that incoming, rather than outgoing sound would be muffled. He sighed as he considered all the projects he was working on.

Occlumency might have reached a sufficient level, but it didn't mean he'd stopped practising religiously with the hat. At the same time, he'd been busting his ass off against the duelling dummy, who had also been handing him his ass unchanged. He'd even learned bombarda, one of the most difficult spells he'd practised since the disillusionment charm. It was hard to just let go and explode after so long working on finesse, but he'd managed. Hopefully, he could show Professor Potter today and impress him.

The only thing that had been moving at a frustratingly glacial pace had been magic sensing, not helped along by the fact that it was the most mentally challenging skill to practise. He was getting somewhere, but much too slowly. He would consider asking for help after Christmas break if he still didn't make any progress, he had some things to accomplish during that time. Like reverting the negative public image the Daily Prophet had smeared him with, possibly at the behest of the ministry. It hadn't impacted the relationships with people who already knew him, and even his new classmates had warmed up to the idea of someone younger being present. But he'd noticed in his first interactions with people, that there was a small negative reputation he had to pass before getting anywhere. It wasn't that all the students in Hogwarts were avid readers of the daily prophet, but only one person had to read it to spread gossip. The whole thing really wasn't something he appreciated.

He knocked on the door of the DADA classroom, which he'd reached during his ruminations. He wasn't really expecting anyone to be there yet. Last he'd seen James Potter, the man had still been merrily chatting away with McGonagall. That was why he was so surprised to find the door opening in front of him, revealing the professor grading papers at his desk.

Some secret passage that shortened the journey? Harry wondered as he stepped in. It wouldn't be unlikely for a former marauder to have such knowledge of the castle. He sometimes felt like he was discovering something new on every outing and he wasn't even that adventurous. To have been in Hogwarts for seven years, alongside three close friends, sneaking about and committing mischief. One would likely get to know the place quite well under such circumstances.

"Professor," Harry said, making the man look up at him and smile, dark rings under his eyes.

"Why don't we just drop the pleasantries, Mr. Evans. I've never cared much for them and in the capacity that we are meeting in it seems a bit odd to upkeep them."

Harry nodded, "James, then?" he asked stiltedly. The man nodded and leaned back on his chair, arms up, to stretch. Some uncomfortable-sounding cracks were heard.

James chuckled at the second-year's disquieted expression, "No one warns you about this part of your thirties," he joked, before turning serious again. "So, how do we want to do this? You do the first-year grading and then we do some practice?"

Harry considered the question and thought about his imminent duel with Tonks; it was probably better to get whatever practice there was out of the way so that he could recover by the afternoon.

"Maybe we could go over the physical and magical part of this agreement first, and then I can recuperate and grade some essays," he suggested.

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James raised an eyebrow, "You think you'll need recuperation?"

Harry considered if he should mention the stereotype that came with being trained by someone from what was essentially the military arm of the government. The words that came to mind, when considering what he knew of army training from around the world, were, gruelling, physically demanding, mentally demanding and gruelling. He wasn't really opposed to that, one of the best things about his magical endeavours was that they were all completely self-motivated and thus, he wasn't afraid of working hard to fulfil his goals. He decided to not mention such complex reasoning, however, and simply settled on.

"You've been an amazing teacher," which was true, "and from what I've heard you're also a very good auror," also true, "so I thought your standards might be quite high."

"You're only in your second year, I can't push you as hard as an auror trainee," James retorted.

Harry looked at the man critically, "I don't mind hard work. If possible, perhaps you should push me harder."

James took off his round golden-rimmed glasses to wipe them down with a small piece of cloth and considered him with eyes that were just as focused without the seeing aid as they were with. Were the glasses cosmetic only? Harry wondered.

"You're certainly ambitious," the man acquiesced with a sigh and stood up. A sweep of his wand cleared space in the middle of the classroom, all of the desks moving aside. "Let's see if your conviction is similarly strong," he muttered and walked to one side of the room.

Harry noted that the man was moving in a tightly controlled step that radiated a readiness and threat that had, up till now, not been apparent in the professor's character, or actions. Although considering how James had nearly screwed Harry over through Twix last year, the man could definitely be considered a threat.

"So, you've been working on reparifargo?" James asked.

"Yes, but due to your advice, I've also learned the explosion charm."

The professor raised an eyebrow. "That's a fourth-year spell," he muttered, but nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Why don't you show it to me then," he said and raised his wand, a small twitch of the magical tool creating a large black dog at his feet. Before Harry knew it the animal was baring its teeth at him and jumping for his throat. Harry, for his part, entered his duelling stance and jumped back, thanking the duelling dummy in his heart for instilling in him a good reaction speed. He brought up his wand, which was almost swallowed by the gaping maw of the dog before he managed to shoot off his spell. He didn't have time to incantate, so he did it silently by instinct. A ball of force left his wand and exploded on the dog's face, viscera, blood, gore, bones and all kinds of chunks sprayed away from Harry and in the direction of his attacker before they disappeared into thin air. The dog had been a conjuration, after all, not a transfiguration based on anything.

That left him and the professor standing warily, facing each other.

"Silently as well?" James said. "Well, it doesn't matter. Can you guess what I wanted to show you by conjuring the dog?"

"That exploding only makes sense if it was transfigured out of something, not if it was a conjuration," Harry guessed.

James nodded, "Yes, what I told you about blasting transfigured animated attackers only makes sense if they were transfigured out of something. It's better to use reparifargo on conjurations since it takes less energy. I've been thinking about what specifically I can help you with if you really plan on entering the duelling circuit and I've come to the conclusion that our time would be best used if we worked on transfiguration, it's my field of choice and I'm sure professor Flitwick will be able to help you more with Charms."

Harry nodded. "Makes sense to me."

"Good, in that sense, I'll lead you to a very specific drill now, until you run out of energy," James said as he waved his wand and summoned a bunch of objects to rest on the floor before him. Quills, pieces of parchment and chairs. "It goes without saying naturally, that blasting something of which the origins are unsuited for doing damage or for blinding is also a waste of energy. To train your decision-making and your speed I'll be sending different animated attackers at you. Your job will be to hit them with the appropriate spell. I'll start slow, then get faster, alright?"

Harry repressed a grin at the fact that James wanted to do the drill until he got tired. The professor would soon find out that stamina and stubbornness were some of his most developed qualities. "All clear," he said.

Without preamble, James pointed his wand at one of the pieces of parchments on the floor and transfigured it into a feral-looking orange cat, which didn't hesitate in running at Harry full speed. Taking quick, but careful aim, Harry reverted the cat back into parchment but didn't get enough time to watch it flutter to the ground as a black dog was already almost biting at his heels. He cursed, mentally, as he realised that he'd been so distracted by the cat that he hadn't paid attention to the origin of the dog. Playing it safe he decided to blast it, and, having learned his lesson he looked to James after he'd taken aim, firing the explosion charm as he watched the man turn a chair into a lion. The dog had been a quill, which meant that he'd wasted his energy and now he needed to replicate the charm again quickly against his new foe. James was already conjuring something, waving his wand in the air and pulling a hawk out of thin air by its sharp orange beak.

The lion pounced, its mane fluttering in the air. Harry almost browned his pants at the sight of the gigantic predator roaring at him but had just enough time to blast it to pieces. The shards of the chair being sent were harmlessly repelled by a translucent shield that James erected. However, due to the fact that the lion had come at him from a medium elevation and the hawk was now flying at him from above, Harry didn't have enough time to mark it with reparifargo. Similarly unable to bring up a shield charm he could only jump back and cover his eyes with an arm as the Hawk impacted against his head, but turned back into air just as it did so.

Harry fell on his ass from the momentum of the impact and groaned. However, his inelegance didn't last long and he was able to get back up on his feet in less than three seconds. He needn't have rushed, as James was apparently willing to give him a short break to catch the breath that he hadn't even noticed he was short of.

"You understand the general gist of the exercise now?" James asked as he idly repaired the objects Harry had broken and arrayed them before him.

Harry wiped his mouth of a little spittle that had been drawn out of it during his fall and nodded. "Again," was all he had to say to that.

The exercise continued for approximately an hour. During this time Harry had likely the entirety of the animal kingdom sent against him. From hyenas to eagles, to a colony of ants. Absolutely everything. Quite frankly, he couldn't be happier and by the dumbfounded look that grew on James' face as the exercise progressed, the professor couldn't be more surprised.

In the end, Harry was lying on the floor, unable to get up and staring at the ceiling with dilated pupils and aching lungs. He thanked the heavens for the duelling dummy and how it had been kicking his ass for the past weeks. Without the practice, he wouldn't have even had the minimal prerequisites necessary to alternate spells along with his physical movements. A slightly sweaty and red face appeared in his field of vision, blocking out the grey ceiling shared by almost every Hogwarts classroom.

"You alright?" James asked and offered a hand, which Harry treated as a necessary lifeline to get himself back on his feet, before promptly wobbling in the direction of a chair and sitting down.

"I feel great," he began, "I feel like I've progressed more in this one hour than I have since I came to Hogwarts last year. What's the next exercise going to be? Maybe I can prepare in advance so we can move forward faster."

James sat down in a chair on his own, as he threw a disbelieving look at Harry, "I can either make the animals harder to dispel by conjuring chimaeras, or I could go faster," he eventually offered.

"Let's do both, I'll work on the speed at which I can cast the two spells. Should I try to upgrade to bombarda maxima?" Harry asked. "The shards I was sending your way didn't seem to impact your speed at all."

James shook his head. "No, let's leave it at that. I'm very good at dodging, anyone you'll face in the U17 championship would have a much harder time. It would just be inefficient, stamina-wise."

"Will I face a lot of transfiguration in the tournaments?" Harry asked curiously, to which he just received a shrug.

"I wouldn't know, I think that's a question for Professor Flitwick. I have to ask, however," James began, tone growing suspicious. "What sort of instruction have you been receiving? Your stance isn't perfect yet, but you're much too habituated to its use to be a complete beginner. Similarly, your reaction speed is too high for an amateur."

Harry wondered what he should say and decided that at the end of the day, he didn't really need to say anything. "Well, considering duelling is forbidden in Hogwarts, I feel that giving names of who I've practised against to a professor wouldn't be a good idea."

James snorted in a very un-professor-like manner. "I understand. You don't have to think I was some sort of model student during my time either. That would have been your mother, really," he said, but going by his facial expression immediately regretted it.

"I've heard mostly good things about her, from everyone who's met here, but no one is interested in going into any sort of detail," Harry said lightly as he slumped further together in his chair.

"There isn't much anyone has to say about the matter. One day she was a brilliant witch astounding everyone at Hogwarts with her sheer talent and force of personality, then she left the school and the next thing anyone heard was that she was dead," James said with a bitterness that perhaps would have fit better with Harry.

"The world isn't fair, and pearls often end up getting eaten by swine," was all Harry had to say to that. James didn't seem like he wanted to deepen the topic and Harry would have more luck asking him for details once their relationship had developed a bit. He stood up, hands on his knees and went to get the papers that he was supposed to grade. "I'll get these to you tomorrow, professor. I'm looking forward to our session next week," He said as he left the room.

James Potter was left sitting alone with a grim look on his face, not staring at anything in particular and surrounded by empty chairs and desks.