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Assistant: Title: Scion
        Author: BitKahuna BitKahuna 
        Chapter: 1/45 
        Summary: A world with no Dursleys was a world Harry Potter was bound and determined to stay in. To do that, Harry Potter wanted to be great. To have every opportunity the wizarding world could offer. So, he used the Restricted Section. He learned. He studied with Hermione, made friends, and did his best to have a normal, happy childhood. Anything so he would never have to go back.But when a troll was released his first year, when he was betrayed in the Chamber of Secrets by Lockhart, and when every adult in his life failed him, that was when Harry and his friends knew the adults couldn't be trusted. They'd been burned one too many times. Then, when Voldemort returned, they had no reason to believe that would change. Harry and his friends would survive.History was filled with great wizards of distinct moral alignment: Voldemort, Grindelwald, Herpo the Foul; even Merlin walked a dubious line. No one with purely good intentions would expand their power so outrageously. Harry hoped he could be the first. Because he knew if he was going to stop Voldemort and protect his friends, he needed to inherit that legacy of power.Harry Potter was hungry for control.
        Contents: Chapter 1: Unrestricted
    

    


      
        
          The first seven chapters are ROUGH and mostly just a recapping of what happens in canon and setting up the differences for when things go wildly off the rails. So it's a little rushed. We already know what happens lolAlso, some of the tags, like Creature Harry Potter or Remus and Sirius raising Harry, don’t occur until laterFic updates every Saturday evening/night
      
  

  
  
    
    
  ‘A spell is a specific incantation or wand motion that focuses one’s magic to complete a task. Attempting to cast without using a spell can have unpredictable results.’
Harry wondered why Professor Flitwick didn't just tell him that, instead of Harry having to muffle the growls of books from the Restricted Section as he read the information for himself.He’d noticed Dumbledore performing silent magic quite a few times and was curious. But when he asked Professor Flitwick about it, he received a vague answer about Dumbledore being an experienced wizard. The non-answer felt very familiar to Harry. It was the same excuse he had been given by his aunt, uncle, and many other adults throughout his life. But it bothered him more than it used to now that he was at Hogwarts. Initially, he couldn’t say why he cared so much. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he’d finally escaped. He was finally free from the Dursleys. There was a level of freedom that came with that. Now that he was seeing boundaries, he wanted to push.The library didn’t have much information on wandless or silent magic. It also didn’t have much information on why incantations or wand motions were even required to cast magic. The very nature of it was unknown to him. It was as if someone purposely erased any information about the nature of magic from the library, and the more he searched, the more he couldn't help but take it personally.As his frustration grew, his eyes occasionally flicked towards the Restricted Section. He’d never actually seen anyone go in or out of it, but surely it couldn’t be that hard. He knew students could only enter with special permission from professors and staff, usually seventh-year students. He knew there was no way he could get in without breaking quite a few rules.It would take a few days for him to build up the courage to try. One night, shuffling through the halls in his pajamas and carrying his school bag, he stood at the entrance to the Restricted Section. He’d never seen something so eerie and haunted. The towering bookshelves seemed to stretch up into darkness. Old, leather-bound books with fragile pages and faded titles packed into every nook and cranny, some teetering on the edge of the shelves as if ready to tumble down at the slightest touch. Standing there, Harry suddenly knew what made him a Gryffindor instead of a Slytherin, as the Sorting Hat was so slow to determine. He wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.Harry took a deep breath and held it, steeling himself as he stepped inside. He expected something to go wrong the moment he walked in. But nothing happened. He released his breath, and it felt so terribly loud in the cold darkness. Looking around, he took a few more steps, still convinced something bad would happen. But once he passed the first set of bookshelves, he relaxed. Maybe it was all in his head.He couldn't be so lucky.In fact, Harry would soon find that this was only the beginning. Some tomes screamed; others had teeth. Some were bound in flesh, and others threatened to swallow you whole. They didn’t scare him. Though he really couldn’t imagine why they were in the school in the first place. They seemed far too dangerous for children to read or even be around. Still, the information he found was invaluable. Magical theory, notes on wandless and silent magic, animagus, occulems, curses, magical patrons of pagan and demonic origins; there was an entire world out there that Hogwarts was never going to introduce him to.Knowledge, he realized, was power. The power to choose one's place in the world rather than be told. If he mastered magic, he could choose. Choose to never go back to the Dursleys ever again. He could stay in the wizarding world forever. He’d never have to go back. The Dursleys could be nothing more to him than a bad dream.He eventually found his answer to the nature of magic and why wands and incantations are required. To put it simply, it makes magic easier. It’s far easier to shape raw magic to one's will if one uses a spell to help focus on a specific goal. A “spell” defined as an incantation and/or wand motion.Harry rolled his eyes at how simple the answer was.But why was this restricted?Those who practiced wandless and silent magic were often older and more powerful spellcasters. One book bemoaned this, saying children should never be taught premade spells but instead should be forced to learn to channel raw magic lest they be ousted from society, in order to create a new race of highly powerful wizards to take over the world, both magical and muggle.Oh.That’s why it’s restricted.But it also spoke of the consequences of wandless and silent magic. The first hurdle was unpredictable results and a lack of control over the intensity of the spell. Most people would never surpass this for one simple reason: they learned to cast magic with spells rather than through their willpower. As children are taught spells, their magic is trained to respond to words and wand movements, making it harder to learn wandless and silent magic later in life. So Harry figured if he started now, it wouldn’t be as hard, in theory. The next hurdle was the issue of exhaustion and burnout from repeatedly enacting forces of will. He couldn't find any mention of someone having overcome it. But he wasn't too worried about it.From then on, when he practiced magic outside of class, he didn’t use spells. He sat there and focused until it happened. It became a lot easier when one book said that magic is not a force he has to wrestle with. Rather, it is a well inside of himself that ‘must be befriended through meditations to foster the merging of wills.’Success varied greatly as he tried to feel the magic inside himself. A never-ending pool of power sat in his chest. When he cast a spell, he could feel the pressure building in his fingertips before it was released, changing the world around him. That was where he learned that magic wasn't an object. It wasn't an unknown force in the air. It was an extension of himself. He'd never felt so powerful in his life.When he released, his desired spell was cast: Lumos. One of the simplest spells. It took him a full week.Perhaps this would be harder than he thought.By mid-October, Harry was given a perfect opportunity to show off the newest spell he was working on. His improved understanding of magic allowed him to practice spells that were weeks ahead of their curriculum. Setting his intentions in magic became easier and easier each week.It was their first flying lesson and Draco made an ass of himself, as per usual, flying off with some trinket of Neville’s. So Harry pulled out his wand and decided to help.“Accio Draco Malfoy!”Harry’s solution worked out as well as could be expected.Draco flew through the air, slamming into Harry at full force. It was a miracle they retained consciousness. After he got his bearings, Draco set his sights on Harry, furious. “Are you mad, Potter?! You can’t just Accio someone in the sky! Merlin, you shouldn’t even know that spell yet. Who taught you? Someone must be giving the Boy Who Lived special treatment.”Growing up in a strict house had made Harry a quick and convincing liar. “I've seen a few professors use the spell, Malfoy.” But he couldn’t just leave it at that. “‘Course, if you weren’t so dense, you might not have done something so stupid in the first place.”“Tw@t!”Harry looked unimpressed. His family had him used to so much worse. He was used to pulling punches and sharp words that cut deep. “That’s the best you have?" There was amusement in his voice.“Are you testing me, Potter?” The words came through gritted teeth.Harry fought back a smile. “Come find out." He swung a leg over his broomstick and felt it jerk as he took to the sky. His lift-off was rough and shaky, but he managed to even himself out, grinning when he sensed someone behind him.The chase was more enjoyable than Harry expected. He laughed and cheered as he flew through the air, making rough and awkward maneuvers. His turns were sharp and sudden and he wasn't great at slowing down, clipping his shoulders on quite a few tree branches. But it was amazing. He nearly forgot he was being chased.Draco, who was trailing behind, suddenly stopped to gain Harry's attention, dropping the Remembrall that was still in his hand. He waited for Harry to dive towards it and quickly followed, narrowing in on Harry. But he soon found they were getting far too close to the ground, far too quickly. He rushed to stop while Harry shot away from the ground, clutching the tiny ball.From then on, the two boys were inseparable in the worst way.At least, that was the case from Draco’s perspective. Then and there, he considered Harry his greatest enemy.But for Harry, he hardly noticed.As the days went on and Harry had to start juggling Quidditch with his schedule, there was less time to spend in the Restricted Section or practicing magic. Until one Friday night, when he got a bit ambitious in his research.The tome his fingers brushed across was bound in purple leather with the teeth of various animals attached to the ends of the front and back cover, interlacing as a closed jaw to prevent the book from being opened.Naturally, he tried to open it.It didn’t work.His fingers pried against the book’s teeth until he let out a hiss, having accidentally cut himself. The book seemed to awaken at the taste of Harry’s blood, now yielding to his hands as he opened the tome.
  The Grimoire of Ashterah Acar
The parchment was brittle and yellowed; the ink faded, but it was still legible. The grimoire was the private writings of some long-dead witch. It was filled with forgotten spells and theories on magic that contradicted much of what he had once believed. The chapters were written in a sequence, starting from basic magics to advanced arts.First, there were foundations of magic, rooted in intuition and inner strength rather than the memorization of spells. As he delved deeper, the content became more abstract, with chapters on astral projection, elemental bending, various creatures, magical conditions, and transfigurations that seemed far beyond his current capabilities. Towards the end of the book were sections on magics considered dark or impossible by modern wizarding standards. But the moment he tried to flip past the carefully written list of subjects and inquiries, the book grew ferocious and growled as it tried to protect the writings of its old master.Blood trickled down his fingers as he gripped the many-toothed book that threatened to bite his hands off. He let out a soft cry that he almost failed to keep subdued as he tried to keep the book from injuring him. The grimoire was a snarling beast, snapping its jaws as Harry’s heart pounded. He clutched the book to his chest as it snapped shut, hoping it would calm down, but the grimoire had other plans. It bucked and snarled, each page lashing out like a whip, their edges sharp as daggers. Again and again, they struck, cutting his skin.He let out a soft whimper of pain as his widened eyes shifted around in a panic, trying to find a solution.“Immobulus!” He shouted, feeling the magic swell in his hands and sink into the book. His voice echoed slightly off the stone walls and dusty shelves. But the spell merely bounced off the grimoire like rain off a window.In response to his spell, the book thrashed more violently than before. Its teeth gnashed together menacingly, its pages flapping with a sound akin to a flock of distressed birds.Harry was on the verge of tears. He knew if he tried to put the book on a shelf, it would snap his fingers off. Keeping it closed was his only hope. But he could hear the dripping of blood on the stone floor as the pages cut deeper and deeper into him. He couldn’t drop it and run. If he left evidence, he was screwed.A cry left him that carried some deep desperation; he needed help. He needed it badly.Magic spread from him once more and from the pool of blood below, a quite large water snake slithered out. It turned at the commotion and seemed to almost blanch at the sight of the bloodied boy and thrashing book."Help!"The water snake hissed, slithering rapidly up Harry’s body before coiling around the thrashing tome. Harry watched in horror as the snake thrashed and cried, weaving itself between the grimoire and Harry’s battered hands. Slowly, Harry managed to get a hand free as the tome was forced shut by the strength of the snake, twisting itself further and further until he could free his other hand, the book clattering to the floor as the snake let go.Harry looked down at the accidentally conjured animal and saw that it seemed perfectly fine. As if it hadn’t just been struggling with a toothy tome.“Thank you.” His voice was a whisper, somewhat raspy. He panted softly, falling to the floor and sitting before the pool of his own blood while the snake wrapped itself around Harry’s hands as if trying to comfort the boy.“Blood magic is not easy. I am impressed.”Harry blinked, realizing the voice came from the snake.It continued, “A parselmouth, no less. Very rare.”The confusion Harry wore was evident, but soon he understood. He had spoken to a snake at the zoo once when he accidentally trapped his cousin. “Blood magic?”The snake nodded to the small pool of blood. “You summoned me.”“Who are you?”"Ianthe.”“I’m Harry.”“I shall heed your call, Harry.”With that, the snake slithered back into the pool of blood, and Harry found his hands healed. The blood on the floor began to rapidly evaporate, disappearing into nothing.Of all things, Harry smiled. He was exhilarated, but still, questions lingered. “Can I only summon her with blood, then?” He muttered to himself as he moved to stand, but froze instantly when he saw the tome open.He swallowed as he slowly approached, still on all fours as if ready to run or pounce at any moment. Looking down, he saw the tome had opened to a page on blood magic. The teeth retracted into sheaths that Harry had not noticed before. Hesitantly, he reached out a single finger, poking the page. Nothing.He touched it once more, the parchment rough and brittle with words slightly raised. The texture was odd, and he didn’t like how warm it felt. The smell of copper and iron wafted up to him as he peered over the page. Black ink shifted and swirled across the page as it translated itself into a language Harry could read, with symbols and sigils placing themselves on intricate diagrams. Lastly, a pair of purple illusory eyes manifested onto the page, peering up at Harry just as he peered at them.“You heard me.”Despite their previous fight, he couldn’t help but be intrigued. The tome heard him and granted him what he sought. Why? Had he placated it?He decided not to tempt fate and read over the page.Harry’s dive into wandless and silent magic, something the book called “natural magic,” allowed his magic to become more fluid, no longer restricted to spells. So, as a fear response, his magic bolstered itself with his blood and allowed Harry a great feat of magic. Like an adrenaline rush. He not only summoned an animalia spirit but bound it as his familiar, if the book was to be believed.His eyebrows furrowed as he thought back to Hedwig.Familiars, as he understood them, don’t exist. The animals they brought with them were more akin to pets. But this was a literal, actual, familiar.Hardly two months into his time at Hogwarts and already, he knew this wouldn’t be a normal year.Collecting himself, Harry gathered the grimoire in his arms. It felt like holding a venomous snake that had been politely asked not to bite. A shudder ran down his spine as the grimoire's seemingly sentient pages rustled against his chest. He didn’t fully trust the book, hands still aching from the lacerations that once coated them.The grimoire seemed to grow heavier as he stepped towards the bookshelf. Harry could feel its resistance increasing as he neared the shelf he'd originally pulled it from. His muscles strained as he lifted it to its rightful place, but as he released his hold, the grimoire flung itself from the shelf with the force of a bludger, landing on the stone floor with a noise that echoed.“Really!” Harry exclaimed, bending down to retrieve it once again. He just wanted to go to bed and process everything that had happened. The grimoire felt warmer in his hands, almost comfortable.At once, it dawned on him that the book did not want to be returned. Rather than languishing on a dusty shelf, this grimoire wanted to reveal its knowledge.It had chosen Harry.Or, at the very least, accepted him.“Fine.” He muttered, tucking the grimoire under his arms and creeping back to his room, soon sliding the tome into his trunk, hidden under robes and sweaters.But with his better understanding of the very nature of magic, magic became a lot easier for Harry. Soon enough, he was becoming one of the best students in Transfigurations and Charms. But given how early it was in the year, no one questioned it. It was normal for muggleborns, or those otherwise raised apart from magic, to take to magic slowly, and, after a few weeks, have everything suddenly click for them.But one student was still skeptical.“How did you do it?”Harry jumped and turned to the voice that addressed him in the late-night hours. “Do what?”He’d been caught red-handed, only a few steps into the Restricted Section as he was about to begin another night of interest.It was Hermione. There was a frown on her face and something curious in her tone. “How did you get into the Restricted Section?” She asked from where she stood, only a few steps from the entrance. She hadn’t crossed the threshold. Her hair was in braids in her bonnet, and her nightgown and robe kept her warm against the cool air of the still library.Harry hurried over to her, speaking in a hushed tone. “You cannot tell anyone.”“I know. But how did you do it?” She had a glimmer in her eye.“What do you mean how? I just walked in.”“But I heard there was a magical barrier that stopped anyone from sneaking in.” She furrowed her eyebrows. “Suppose I should have found out for myself, but I’d hate to be injured or, worse, expelled.”Harry almost wanted to laugh, if not for his uncertainty about how this would end for him. “Is that really worse?”“I’m the only wizard in my family. No other way to learn magic.”Harry blinked at the familiarity, a smile spreading across his face. “So am I.” He could work with this. He’s talked himself out of trouble before. Harry knew very well how to appeal to Dudley. But Hermione was his friend, and now they had something in common. Surely, appealing to a friend would be far easier than appealing to his bully. “How did you know I was here?”“I couldn’t sleep a few nights ago and went to sit in the common room. I saw you sneaking out. Then again the next night, and the night after that. It was actually quite easy to follow you here. You hardly noticed a thing.”Harry squirmed slightly. “I guess if I was going to get caught, it makes sense it would be you.” He hoped the compliment would smooth things over.Hermione grinned at this. “Why have you been going in there?”His eyes shifted, “Well, there were some questions I’d been asking in class. Professors won’t answer. I tried the regular library, but there wasn’t anything there, so I checked the Restricted Section.”“Did you find your answers?” She asked as she glanced behind him, peering in. The Restricted Section seemed somehow darker than the rest of the library.“Yes, actually.”A glare came into her eyes, but it wasn’t angry, it was determined as her eyes flicked to stare him down. “Is that how you got so good at Charms and Transfigurations?”He nodded, cracking a smile. “I could show you the books if you wanted.”She stepped back. “Oh … oh no. I don’t … I couldn’t go in there.”Harry knew he had her. He let a nervous smile play on his face, uncertainty lightly gracing his features. “Well, I could get it for you.” He offered. “You could read it out here and then just leave it outside the entrance. They fly back to their places on the shelf. You’d never have to go inside.”She watched him warily, wondering if she could trust the boy before her. “Really?”“Of course. We’re friends, after all. Besides, I really like when Malfoy gets upset he’s being corrected in class by a muggleborn.”A proud smile grew on Hermione’s face. “The little prat does deserve it.” She agreed in a mumble, wanting more and more to accept his offer.“He’s had years of tutors anyway. We ought to have our fair shot, too.”Hermione wavered slightly as if testing the waters before she dove in. Ultimately, she liked what she was hearing. “Okay.” She nodded. “I think that’ll work.”The two would come to an agreement. Harry would get the books and Hermione would return them. Though he never told Hermione about his book, the Grimoire of Ashterah Acar. It was like his own little secret. And frankly, he didn’t think the grimoire would be very happy being shown to others.From then on, twice a week, Harry and Hermione would take trips to the Restricted Section in the middle of the night. Harry pulled back from going nearly every night due to Hermione’s discovery of his activities, which made him want to take better precautions.Overall, their system worked well. He caught her up a lot on what he had discovered on the nature of magic, and soon enough, they were both practicing “natural magic” rather than spells. Even Hermione would eventually admit that it felt better to cast that way. “Like breathing fresh country air instead of city air.”Harry had never thought of it that way before, but it made a lot of sense to him, and he agreed. He hadn’t even noticed how odd it felt to have his magic funnel itself through a wand rather than flow from his body.In class, Hermione showed great improvement over the next few days, much to Draco’s chagrin. Harry was almost impressed by just how many times the blond could scoff or roll his eyes in one sitting.Sure enough, the peaceful rhythm of Harry's late-night library visits couldn't last forever. One night, as he headed through the halls on a solo visit, he almost bumped into Filch. In his escape, he darted through hallways and up staircases until he found himself on the third floor. That alone made him hesitate, knowing the third floor was forbidden.“Someone there?”Harry’s eyes widened as he heard Filch following with quiet haste, so he unlocked the first door he came across and slipped inside for cover. It was dark, and he pressed his ear to the door as his eyes adjusted. He heard footsteps, a soft meow, and then the sound of a man and cat moving down the hall.Harry let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he turned to see the rest of the room. He would likely be stuck there for the next while until Filch goes to bed.Fluffy was a gigantic, three-headed dog that lived on the third floor of Hogwarts. Harry couldn’t conceive of why someone would let the dog live in the school. There were a lot of things he didn't understand in the school. But he didn’t have much time to think about it as he turned and saw the gigantic sleeping dog.He pressed himself back onto the door and looked around with panic-stricken eyes. There wasn’t much in there besides a harp and some boxes. He didn’t want to leave, as the idea of running into Filch was just as terrifying. Thankfully, the dog was out cold. He settled for hiding behind some old boxes by the door, sitting on the floor.It ended up being a very quiet spot. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, listening to the dog’s slow breathing. But once his fear faded, he figured now was as good a time as any to work on his magic. He probably should have been more concerned with getting back to his dorm, but the spot was just so peaceful, and frankly, he might as well use the night to practice rather than make an extra library trip.Harry would end up sitting there and practicing for a few hours, falling deeper and deeper into his focus as he listened to the soothing breaths of the beast. Suddenly, he woke up, realizing he had fallen asleep. Figuring Filch must have turned in for the night, he left the safety of the room and slogged off to bed at nearly two in the morning. But Harry would return semi-regularly, finding the room and the dog’s breathing to be peaceful.Of course, he eventually told Hermione about it as well. She declined to see for herself and adamantly warned Harry to be careful.He only laughed.After a week of occasionally sitting with the sleeping dog, Harry Potter decided to bring a gift. He entered the familiar room and pulled a few pieces of meat from breakfast out of his bag, setting them before the dog. The dog, roused by the scent, was skeptical of Harry. But after a week of occasionally being able to smell the boy in his sleep, Harry seemed somewhat familiar to him. The meat was also good, though there wasn't very much. So Fluffy decided not to say anything and to let the boy sit in his room.Harry felt like he was on top of the world. He excelled in his classes, visited the Restricted Section once or twice a week with Hermione, and hung out with a giant dog to practice his magic. The grimoire in his trunk was put on the back burner as Harry flitted between fancies, doing as he pleased, when he pleased. All while improving his skills in Quidditch as he practiced and played. It was a brand of freedom that Harry didn’t understand. He’d never had anything close to it before. Even though he only got it because he was sneaking around, he still felt free. Like he could do anything. He wondered if this was how the popular students in muggle films must feel.But a second beast on Hogwarts grounds would quickly humble the boy before he got too comfortable.A mountain troll came into the school while they all sat at supper, causing everyone to rush off in a panic as Dumbledore directed the Prefects to lead their houses back to their rooms, all while the professors searched the castle for the beast.As Ron and Harry hurried towards their dorms, they realized Hermione was missing. Exchanging worried glances, they were immediately on the same page. They broke from the group and frantically searched for Hermione’s familiar bushy brown hair.“Granger? Granger! Hermione!” They shouted as they hurried through the halls, their bodies soon crashing into a wall as they slid to a stop.The mountain troll entered a girl’s bathroom.A few seconds of silence.A scream.Harry would never forget the sight of the bathroom door. He stared at it, frozen, far longer than he thought he should have. His heart pounded. But Harry knew they had to go in there. They couldn't leave her behind, especially not with the troll.The two boys stormed in, watching as a stall was smashed through by the troll’s club as it searched for Hermione. Harry’s heart dropped, unsure if she had just been crushed.Harry had already been in unsafe situations this year, but a snarling book and a sleepy dog were nothing compared to the danger of a mountain troll. He stared while Ron tried to steel himself. Snapping himself from his shock, he copied the redhead, soon raising his wand. Now wasn’t the time for natural magic. He needed a spell. A real spell.He flicked his wand and choked out an incantation as Hermione screamed once more, the troll’s club barely missing her leg. He flinched as if he had been slapped. Never in his life had he heard a person scream in such terror before. It made his skin crawl. He wanted to run.Harry tried again, nearly shouting the jinx between his own gasping breath that seemed only one step away from sobbing.But it didn’t work.He held his wand in a death grip, trying twice to cast a simple protective charm, but he could hardly get the words out past his hyperventilating.Nothing happened.Hermione’s scream pierced the air as another stall was smashed, and she crawled to the next one. The troll was gaining on her. Harry trembled as his mind went blank. He had to do something. They were running out of stalls.Tears rolled down his cheeks as he threw his wand at the troll like a dart, a soft gasp leaving him when it pierced the troll’s leg, angering it and taking its attention from Hermione.Ron cast a levitation spell and began to wrestle with the troll, trying to take away its club. Harry helped the only way he knew would work. Grabbing pieces of rubble from the ground, he began pelting the beast with whatever he could find but there wasn’t much he could pick up. Debris rapidly flew through the air as he flung them at the troll, distracting it further so Ron was able to rip the club from its grip.With the troll distracted, Hermione ran out from one of the last few stalls.“Find a professor!” Ron shouted to her and she nodded, hurrying out of the bathroom.Harry was out of things to throw. He tried a few larger pieces of rubble but was only able to knock himself over lugging a broken piece of a sink at it. The troll looked down at them and roared, picking up the piece of sink with a single hand and tossing it at Harry when he got back on his feet, sending him flying back into the wall.The redhead gulped as the troll quickly approached. In a moment of panic, he tossed the levitated club at him, flinching at the sickening thud that echoed from the force of the troll’s head being bludgeoned. The troll stumbled slightly before crumpling to the ground, unconscious.Hermione, with nearly half of all of the Hogwarts professors in tow, burst into the bathroom to find Ron struggling to free Harry from where he was pinned to the wall. It was a piece of a broken sink that Harry had lugged at the troll. When it was thrown back at him, the jagged edges had slightly embedded itself in his stomach and the wall behind him.The professors only stared a moment before splitting off, Hagrid freeing Harry and McGonagall checking over Ron for injuries while the rest looked over the mountain troll, making sure it was subdued.Despite a perceived victory, as Ron and Hermione wrapped their arms around him, Harry felt awful.Even with all the spells, charms, and jinxes he’d learned, when it came down to it, he was powerless. A scared little kid, just like he’d always been. Only now, instead of fearing his family, he feared a troll. And now he learned just how useless the fear could make him. It stole weeks of hard work. It stole his power.“Is this yours?” Snape slowly asked, plucking the wand from the troll’s thigh and handing it to Harry.He silently accepted his wand. It was coated in troll blood. He wished it had broken. Not like it was of any use to him, anyway. Harry despised himself.In the immediate aftermath, McGonagall wanted to be upset at the two boys for putting themselves in danger. But when she saw them hugging Hermione, all three on the verge of tears, any indignation died there. Instead, she offered to talk about what happened, should they ever need it.Madame Pomfrey would clean Harry’s wounds and bandage them. Thankfully, the sink didn’t embed itself more than a centimeter or so into his flesh. The bruising on his stomach and back would be pretty awful, but nothing a few days of rest couldn’t fix.Unfortunately, the healing process wouldn’t complete itself until closer to a week due to Harry’s neglect. He didn’t eat for three days after the troll.Quidditch was a chore and he didn’t go to the Restricted Section in the week after. The moment the adrenaline wore off, the boy became even more useless than when he was failing to fight off the troll. Harry stumbled through his week entirely unfocused but it was nothing compared to the exhaustion. The first night, he had a dreamless sleep. After that, it all went downhill.His nights were restless, plagued by the echo of Hermione’s screams and the heavy thud of the troll’s club. Harry tossed in his bed, the sheets twisted around him as his mind replayed the scene over and over. Each time, his spell failed more spectacularly, each time he froze longer, Hermione’s screams grew louder. His flesh was pierced deeper and deeper. By the sixth night, he didn’t bother trying to sleep. He didn’t want another nightmare.Classes began to blend in his haze and Hermione started locking arms with him after class to make sure he ended up where he was supposed to be. She’d seen him wander off in the wrong direction a few times in the last week and she was getting sick of chasing him down as he grew less and less responsive.By the end of the week, however, Hermione and Ron both lugged him around the halls and made sure to sit with him in class as they tried to help their friend. But on day four of hardly eating anything, Hermione had enough.“Where are we going?”“Just trust me.” Hermione insisted as Ron hesitantly helped her lead Harry away from the school.Harry trudged on, only somewhat aware that he was being taken somewhere. His feet marched from stone to grass to wood. The air was a bit more humid, a bit heavier. He was sitting down, and his legs hung off the dock at the Great Lake. He furrowed his eyebrows, unsure of when he got there or when his shoes and socks were removed. Hermione and Ron were talking to him or maybe just each other, but he didn’t pay attention. His eyes were caught by the water. For the first time since the Mountain Troll, he could focus.Harry had never been in the water before. He’s been in pools and knows how to swim; his cousin once pushed him off of a boat in a small lake they spent one summer at. But it wasn’t nearly as big as the Great Lake. Not as clean either. It was touched in a way that this was not. Sure, students hung out by the lake, but this wasn’t a tourist attraction. No one vacationed here. No one left trash or overfished. It was different than any water he’d seen before. It looked so dark and deep.His skin pricked, and his hair stood as the chilly November air brushed over him. The lake water felt like music. Never in his life had Harry ever wanted so badly to fall. The occasional ripples and bubbles pushed a smile onto his face as he listened to it mingle with the rustle of trees and the song of birds. His own body swayed slightly as he took in the smell of algae and rain. To be consumed. His limbs felt heavier. The water looked like a silky blanket. It was so inviting. There was no real reason to resist. Shaky hands set his glasses to the side.Ron grumbled something behind him, but he paid it no mind until there were two hands on his back, shoving him into the water.The first thing he felt was the shock of cold as he stared down into the murky depths. His body twisted, looking at the surface. He could swim. He could make it no problem. Yet, as he sank deeper, the panic faded. Certainly, Harry wanted to rise to the surface, but at the same time, there was something liberating about sinking. His body was free from gravity, swaying with the gentle rhythm of the water. He didn’t feel cold anymore. He wanted to surrender.So, he did. He didn’t sink deeper, nor did he rise. He floated there, right where he wanted to be. A smile overtook his face as he laid back even further, listening to the low murmur of the underwater currents. He had no idea it was so loud underwater. The high-pitched whistles of aquatic life occasionally sounded around him. It felt like music.Harry had never felt so relaxed in his life. He felt as if all exhaustion had been taken from him, and yet, if he wasn’t careful, he swore he could fall asleep at any moment. The water around him was a warm embrace that pushed and pulled him with the currents. He felt golden.Opening his eyes, there was a slight sting before they adjusted. At first, it was dark, just as dark as it had seemed from the surface. But as his eyes adjusted, he realized there was plenty of light under the water. Looking deeper down, he saw flora and fauna, all going about their daily lives. In the distance, he could also see the civilization of merpeople. Some of their guards met his eyes. They just stared at him, until they realized he could also see them.Harry waved.One hesitantly waved back.Everything felt so natural and right. He felt energized. He felt like he was back to himself.Looking back at the surface, Harry realized he hadn’t felt the need to breathe in a while. He couldn’t be too sure how long it had been, though. Part of him didn’t want to leave. But just as he wondered about air, a slight burn began in his lungs. He pushed the air out of his nose and kicked up, reaching for the surface. Looking around, he wasn’t at the dock anymore. Perhaps he’d let himself drift for too long.He couldn’t see anything resembling the docks in his now-blurry world. Somehow, it was far easier to see underwater. But feeling the rippling of the water, he felt the currents pushing him still. So, he decided to swim against the currents, figuring that should take him back to where he belonged.Being back on the surface, there was no desperate intake of breath, as if he had been drowning. He felt fine, besides the brightness. His eyes were still adjusted to the dim waters of the lake, and now that he was above the surface, it was brighter than usual. Squinting, he swam along. Despite having very little experience in the act, his body, it seemed, was very easily able to adjust to swimming. There was no ache or strain. It felt natural. Like walking.Eventually, he did find the docks and began to swim towards them, his eyes having adjusted to the brightness above the water.“There he is!” A voice nearly screamed, making Harry swim faster. Arms pulled him onto the dock and he was wrapped in three different towels. It wasn’t until he was out of the water that he started to shiver.“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for you to drown, I just thought the cold would shock you back to normal!” A girl’s voice sobbed out the words as a pair of arms wrapped around him. “I didn’t know how to wake you up!”He only smiled. “I didn’t drown, ‘Mione.” He said as he hugged her back and someone slipped his glasses onto his face.That’s when he saw that Ron and Hermione had gone to get Hagrid when Harry didn’t resurface.They all walked to Hagrid’s Hut to warm up while Harry recounted what happened with a calm smile.“Yur sure ye could hear things in tha wa’er?” Hagrid asked, seeming unusually serious.“Yes.”“Mm. And did yer eyes really adjus’ so quickly?”“It was easier to see underwater than it is on land.”Hagrid only nodded again as he continued to help dry off Harry’s clothes with a wind charm he knew.“I’d say ye best not go ‘round tellin’ nobody wha’ ‘appened.” He advised.The three of them agreed, promptly returning to the school once Harry was dried off. But in the end, he’d still thank Hermione for what she did. Though she would always feel bad about it.“I’m so sorry, Harry. I just didn’t know what to do, but I had to do something because it was all my fault!”Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “What was your fault?”“You’ve hardly been here the last week. Sure, you’ve been here but not … present. It was all because you hurt yourself saving me.”“That’s not fair.” He shook his head. “If I can’t blame myself for being too scared to get a proper spell out, you can’t blame yourself for not being able to fight off a troll on your own. Besides, I couldn’t fight it either. Ron had to save the both of us.”Ron couldn’t help but smile.“Can we be normal again?” Hermione asked.Harry nodded. “I think we can.”'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
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