Apprentice Potter
Party Time
By Draco664
Party time
Hermione's room was almost exactly as I imagined. Two out of four walls were lined with tightly packed shelves of books. A massive desk sat along another wall, placed below a rather large window looking over the back garden.
I looked around, taking in the various photos containing Hermione's family members. At least two photos adorned every shelf. Everyone was smiling in them.
This was the most loving room I'd ever been in.
Hermione silently sat down on her desk chair, which was obviously of orthopaedic design. It bounced down for a second, until it settled so that the arm rests were just below the level of the desk top. With Hermione sitting on the chair, it would slide under the desk quite neatly. That alone told me that it was my friend who had adjusted it.
"Well? Talk," she snapped almost aggressively.
I swallowed and cleared my throat. Now that I was in here, I had no idea what to say.
"Um, that mirror will let you talk to me. Just say my name and I'll be able to see and hear you," I said, more to delay talking about the wall between us than believing that she couldn't work out how to use the mirror herself.
She looked down at the mirror in her hands. "I know. I've read about them."
Of course you have. "I should have guessed," I said with a small smile.
"Can I call you after you've gone home today?"
"Ye-, no! No. Not just yet."
Her eyes hardened instantly. Oh-oh. Note to self; Never piss this girl off. My life expectancy is short enough as it is.
I held up my hand in a vague attempt to stop her exploding. "It's just that, I sort of have to fix my one."
She frowned faintly, but was obviously still angry at my answer. "Your... one... what?"
"My mirror. I tried to call Sirius after he, well, you know," I said, my voice failing.
Hermione's shoulders slumped. "Oh, Harry!" she said, sounding exasperated. "You broke it, didn't you."
I nodded glumly. "I hoped that I could talk to him. I hoped that if he had the mirror on him as he fell through the veil then..."
Hermione's eyes filled with sympathy. "Oh, Harry. These mirrors don't work that way."
"Yeah, I figured that out for myself. To tell you the truth, I forgot about it until Remus gave me Sirius' mirror."
"You talked with Remus? He said he wanted to."
I nodded. "Yeah. He wanted to go over Sirius' will." I looked up at her. "Did you ask Remus or Dumbledore to organise the security for my party?"
Hermione blinked. "Um, neither. I asked Remus and Tonks to come, and they arrived early to set some wards. I should have thought of that myself, since I invited the twins."
"Only one of them showed up."
Hermione nodded. "Yes, and he won't tell anyone which twin he is."
I took a shuddering breath, and let it out slowly. Finally, I took the plunge.
"What brought all this on? Downstairs, I mean," I asked her.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her chair, staring down at her clasped hands. "Well, you know. You kissed Blaise."
"No." I shook my head. "Blaise kissed me."
Hermione shifted again, but didn't look up. "Same thing."
"No, it's not."
Hermione looked up at me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Did you enjoy it?"
I looked intently at her for a moment or two. Honesty is by far the best way to go here. I refuse to make the same mistakes that Dumbledore made. If it makes it more difficult in the short term, so be it. "Yes, I guess I did. You know I haven't been kissed by so many people that I can tell if it was good or bad."
"It hurt me to see it, Harry."
"Hurt? Hermione, I kissed Cho a few months ago and you didn't react like this. You even comforted me when Ron teased me about being a bad kisser."
"But in your letter, you said the potential was there for her to be something more."
I nodded. "And I haven't seen or spoken to her in the meantime. Nothing has changed since I wrote that."
Hermione was quiet for a few moments. "Do you think your feelings for someone can change?"
I frowned at her question. "Of course. It happens all the time. You're hardly in love with someone you just met, even if you end up marrying them."
"What about if you've been friends with someone for a long time. What then?"
"Yes. Of course."
She gave a little sigh of frustration. "What about changing so suddenly that it surprises yourself?"
This surprised me itself. "What do you mean?"
"Harry, I've been your friend ever since you saved me from being eaten by that troll. I've watched you go through so much. I've seen you hurt, happy, sad and angry." Hermione took a deep breath. "But I've never loved you like anything other than a brother."
I stayed silent. One of the things that Zab's habit of not answering questions encouraged was an almost intuitive understanding of when saying anything would be a bad idea.
She continued. "I love the way you think of others before yourself. I love the way you care for me. I love your determination and will. But I was always exasperated with the way you didn't take your studies seriously. The way you never applied yourself to what you were doing."
I raised an eyebrow. "You were impressed with the amount of effort I put into learning spells before the third task. You even convinced me to lead the DA because of it."
Hermione nodded. "Yes, but you learned all those spells and curses because you had to, not because you wanted to. Harry, I have never seen us together in my mind's eye, just because I didn't think... I didn't think that..."
"Yes?" I asked softly.
"I didn't think that I could ever be with someone who didn't use his mind to its full potential," she blurted.
I blinked at that. "Oh," I pouted.
She reached out and took one of my hands. "Oh Harry, please don't be offended. It sounds worse when I say it like that."
I gave her a self-depreciating grin. "I'm not offended. I know I didn't usually use my mind. To its full potential or otherwise."
Relief flooded across her face. "Thank you."
"And now?"
"What?"
I chuckled softly. "And now? You just said that you didn't think you could ever see yourself with someone who didn't use his mind. Now can you?"
Hermione bit her lip, then shook her head.
I opened my mouth, but she covered my lips with her fingertips. "Harry, the day you received that letter from the Ministry, I was very angry with you. At least, I was angry after I found out that you were safe. But the way you spoke once you woke..."
I tilted my head back slightly, so her fingers couldn't reach my lips. "You can't mean the way I yelled at McGonagall!"
"No!" she said, blushing at the memory. "No, not that."
"Then you mean... when I was talking about what was wrong with the Ministry?"
Hermione nodded. "You thought your way through everything. You challenged what was written and accepted in the media; you made me think about my own perceptions. You debated and argued, and I realised that you were thinking so much more clearly that I'd ever seen you do. You were so passionate, so persuasive, so... so..."
"So?" I asked, not sure where she was going with this.
Hermione looked directly into my eyes. "So sexy."
My heartbeat jumped. "Um, OK. I've never been called that before," I offered, a little dazed.
Hermione smiled at me. "I know, but when you think like that, you are! It was weird the way you just changed my perception of you. And the letter you wrote to me since then was amazing. I honestly thought that Professor Dumbledore thought that it was you who incapacitated him at the Burrow, but you convinced me that I was wrong; that he was attempting to manipulate you into trusting him again!"
Hermione's tears had just about dried up, and her voice was getting more and more enthusiastic.
"Don't you see?" she asked, waving her hands around, threatening to accidentally break the other mirror too. "Have you got any idea what it is like to have your notions challenged absolutely by someone you didn't think capable of it? Harry, I've been so impatient to talk to you again, I've almost been driving my parents crazy."
She was almost bouncing in her chair. I reached out and put my hands on her shoulders, gently holding her steady. She smiled, and took the opportunity to put the mirror down safely on her desk.
"And then, the next time we saw each other, Blaise kissed me."
She stiffened momentarily, but relaxed and nodded. "Even though you'd said in your letter that she wasn't your girlfriend..."
"I know. I'm sorry she did that, but you didn't make it easy to explain you know."
Hermione covered her face with her hands. "I know. I'm so embarrassed. I just didn't know how to handle it."
With a small sigh, I took my hands off her shoulders and gently took hold of her own hands. "Hermione, listen to me. You are one of the two most important people in my universe. You alone have stood by me every single step I've taken. I have not doubt that I would have been dead several times over if it wasn't for you and your help."
I took a deep breath. "Do you know what memory I used to create the patronus that drove away the dementors from Sirius in our third year?"
She nodded her head. "The memory of Sirius asking if you wanted to live with him."
I smiled. "But I didn't use that memory to fight off the dementors last summer."
"What memory did you use?"
"You and Ron." I said simply.
She blushed lightly, but looked at me with a slightly worried expression. "What about now? What would you use to make a patronus?"
I gave a little snort. "Probably the memory of Umbridge getting the sack. That's what I used during my OWL."
Hermione's silvery laugh made my spine tingle. "Oh, Harry. That is just so, so... so you!"
Though I was still sitting, I gave her a mock bow. "Thank you. Now, are you going to come out and join my party?"
She hesitated, but gave me a quick nod and stood up. "Are you going to tell Blaise what we spoke about today?"
"Nope, no need."
"Why not?" she asked, sounding pleased, but clearly surprised.
I shrugged and tilted my head nonchalantly towards the door. "Because she is listening at the door right now."
I was rewarded with a confused expression on Hermione's face and a muffled gasp from behind the bedroom door. Rapid steps on the polished wooden hallway floor indicated the retreat of my Slytherin friend. I couldn't stop a satisfied grin from forming.
Hermione's expression turned hard as she realised that I had been correct. "Did you tell her to listen in on us?" she demanded.
I shook my head. "Of course not!"
Her eyes narrowed again. This was getting to be a habit. "Did you tell her to wait outside the door?"
I shook my head.
"Then how did you know she was there?"
I let a slow grin slide over my face. "Because she's a Slytherin."
Hermione blinked, obviously trying to decide whether or not to be angry or amused. Finally, she appeared unable to stop a smile forming. "I can't decide whether or not this is a good thing."
"What is?"
"You being able to figure out what people will or will not do. I'm vaguely alarmed that you might do it to me."
I just couldn't help myself. "You've made the decision to come down to my party haven't you?"
Hermione blinked, and looked uncertain for a second or two. Her eyes flittered around as though she was looking for something, before she settled for glaring at me. "If you've lied to me to get me to come down..."
I shook my head again, as serious as I've ever been in my life. "No Hermione. I will never lie to you. I've been lied to for too long to believe that it can ever be justified. What I wrote to you in my letter was the truth, what I said to you today was the truth. Even if it hurts now, it won't tear our friendship apart later."
She frowned and tilted her head to one side. "Is that what this is all about? Is that why you are so angry?"
I nodded slowly. "Dumbledore has been lying to me ever since I got to Hogwarts."
She reached out and touched my arm. "He's worried about you, Harry."
I shrugged. "Yes, he is, but not in the way you think."
"Oh? And just how do I think?"
I narrowed my eyes and looked at her appraisingly. "That he's worried about me like he worries about all the students. Or that he is worried about me like the son he never had," I said sourly.
Hermione shook her head. "No. I thought that. Not any longer."
"Oh. Why?"
"Because of what you said that day you yelled at Professor McGonagall. That he was worried about losing his secret weapon."
I closed my eyes. I knew she'd pick up on that. "What do you think now?"
"That Professor Dumbledore knows what the prophecy said, even though it was destroyed. And that he told you. And that it has to do with both you and Voldemort."
I opened my eyes and nodded very slowly. "Yes," I said simply.
"Can you tell me how the prophecy ends?"
I shook my head. "It's not that sort of prophecy. Anyway, I shouldn't tell you here."
"It is safe here."
"Not safe enough."
"Then where?"
I frowned slightly in thought. "Go to the Room of Requirement. Make sure you think about the most secure room you can. Take your mirror with you. I'll tell you then."
Hermione took a little while to agree, but she finally nodded her acceptance. "Ok."
I held out an arm. "But for now, let's go and join my party."
With a smile, she slipped her arm through mine. "Sounds like fun."
Blaise's innocent expression turned sickly when she spotted Hermione and I coming down the stairs arm in arm. Either Fred or George must have noticed too, since a burst of whistles and cat-calls greeted our arrival back to the party proper.
Hermione turned a familiar shade of red and gently disengaged herself from my arm. "Sod off, you prat," she said to the vocal Weasley twin.
"Oooooh!" came the typically juvenile response. "Little Hermione swore!" I think it was Fred, since he was all over Angelina earlier.
"Drop it, Fred," I said.
Fred blinked. "You can tell us apart!" he said, surprise evident in his voice. "Mum would be so jealous!"
Hermione was still glowering at him as I led her away from Fred, despite his attempts to provoke her. I glanced around and located Blaise. It didn't take much; all I really needed to do was work out where the icy silence that was making the hairs on the back of my neck rise up was coming from. I crooked a finger at her and slipped my hand back into Hermione's.
I led the pair into the library, to more than a few cheers from the rest of the group.
Once they were both in the room, I firmly closed the door behind me and turned to face them.
Not that either of them was paying me any attention whatsoever. Once more, they had locked glares and appeared to be attempting to set the other on fire using nothing but their emotions.
Fair odds, I'd say.
"Enough, both of you."
This didn't seem to have any obvious affect.
After a second's thought, I said, "Perhaps I should go out there and kiss Neville."
Both witches gave a startled squawk and turned to face me with very similar expressions of both horror and dismay. I rolled my eyes. "Why me?" I asked the ceiling. They both started with the same words.
"Harry, tell her that-"
"Potter, tell her that-"
I snorted as they looked at each other in horror. "Yes," I said, "you are both more similar than you would care to admit."
Both girls blurted in tandem, "I'm nothing like her!"
"Riiiiiiight, you're channelling the Weasley twins for fun. Both of you, sit down."
They sat.
I remained standing, but I leant forward and shifted my gaze over both of them. "Look. I don't have so many friends that I can afford to lose one. Blaise, I've been close friends with Hermione since first year, and I love her dearly. You will have to deal with that fact yourself. Hermione, Blaise has made my life a hell of a lot easier recently. You know how angry I've been; she has helped me cope with it. So much so that I've found myself missing her terribly ever since Ron tried to get a tune out of the old man's skull by using it as a drum set. Both of you are very important to me. You don't have to like it, but both of you do have to accept it."
I stood up straight and crossed my arms. "So what do we do from here? Which of you is going to offer the olive branch first?"
Blaise looked confused. "Olive branch?"
Hermione gave her a superior expression. "It means to-"
"'Mione!" I snapped before she could finish. "Have you been listening? I don't want you to fight. I don't want you to insult each other. I don't want you to continue this ridiculous spat. I need you both, and I sure as hell can't keep apologising to one of you for the actions of the other.
"Now, I'm going out there to enjoy my party, and I don't want to see either of you out there until you are at least at the point where you can stand to be in each other's presence without picking a fight."
They gave each other wary, distrustful looks. This wasn't going well.
I walked over to the door. "Well, if you keep this up, it seems like I won't be seeing you again today. If not, thanks for the party, Hermione. Blaise, it was good to see you again. Bye."
And I walked out the door, and shut it firmly behind me.
The rest of my party was fun, if not exciting, until my early exit a few hours later. I spent a great deal of time telling everyone repeatedly that I didn't have a girlfriend, that both Hermione and Blaise were friends (with me only, obviously not with each other) and that I was not returning to Hogwarts.
Oddly, Fred was the only person that seemed to take that announcement in his stride. Though I suppose he thought for a second that I may be coming to work for him sooner rather than later.
It was Ron who came to my rescue more often than not, telling various people badgering me to either change the topic or bugger off. The pair of us sat together, laughing at the results of Fred's pranks on the other party goers.
The conversation flowing around me suddenly reduced in both volume and intensity. More than one person in the room was now staring at someone behind me. The sudden sobriety that my friends showed indicated the new arrival was more than likely a teacher.
"Well, well, well. Mr. Potter. Fancy meeting you here."
Well, someone who holds a professorship at Hogwarts anyway, even if he cannot be classified as a teacher. "Snivellus," I said, not turning around, but gently erecting my shields. Almost instantly, I felt a tiny flicker of a presence. Nothing like Snape's touch, more like...
"I don't believe you were invited. Oh, tell the old man to keep out of my mind," I said as both Ron and I stood up and turned around.
Surprise barely registered in Snape's eyes, and only briefly. His wand was in his hand already; he was not even pretending that he was only facing a student. I suppose even a Slytherin could figure out eventually not to underestimate someone. I felt rather than saw Ron draw his own wand.
Pity for me. It did not escape my notice that nearly everyone in the room was backing away, leaving Snape, Ron and myself in the middle of a ring of onlookers. I took note of the people behind the slimy git. Ah, yes. I reached out and placed my hand on Ron's arm, gently pushing it down, lowering his wand. "Thanks, but that won't be necessary, Ron."
I casually rolled my head around and stretched my arms out in front of me, making a few subtle gestures. "Your wand isn't aimed at me. That's a mistake, Snape. You should have it pointed straight at my heart if you want to use it. I can take you down right now so fast it may as well be a stick." I rolled my wrist, then theatrically pointed my hand towards Snape, two fingers extended. "You should probably know that if I don't stun you, Weasley will do it."
This time, uncertainty did show on Snape's oily face. He looked from Ron to me, then snapped his wand up and began to mouth a spell.
Before slumping down, eyes rolling in his head.
"Stupefy," I said, belatedly, as I watched Snape's face bounce gently off the thick carpet.
I looked up from Snape's incumbent form and winked at Fred, who grinned back at me as he put his wand away. Ron let out an explosion of breath and swallowed loudly. Almost as soon as he'd let it out, the rest of the room followed suit, everyone to a man running forward to congratulate me.
As satisfying as it was to trick Snape, I knew that Dumbledore was in the next room. I turned to Ron, who was being soundly kissed on the cheek by Susan Bones. It seemed that it wasn't only Snape who was tricked. "Ron, thanks for the back up. I have to go." The majority of the people there vocally disagreed. I ignored them. "Tell Hermione and Blaise that I said bye, and thank Fred for me. I'm glad he still recognises our Quidditch hand signals."
"Do you have to go?" he asked while blushing a typical Weasley red, his attention obviously somewhere else. Probably on a well endowed Hufflepuff.
I nodded sadly. "Ask Hermione about talking to me. I should be in touch in a couple of days."
I pushed my way through the crowd to the fireplace before I heard the unwelcome tones of the headmaster. "Harry! No, please wait!"
The next second, I was spinning through the floo, on the first of several legs of my journey back to Zabini Manor.
I leaned back in my chair and stretched, feeling my vertebrae creak satisfyingly. I cupped the back of my neck and massaged it, feeling the tension ease slightly.
The day after my birthday dawned cloudy and wet again. The unseasonable weather confined me to my studies, and I made considerable progress at deciphering the ancient text's recipe ingredients. Zab had agreed to help me repair my mirror, but since it would take a few days for the materials to be gathered by his contacts in the wizarding world, he had me work even harder on the obscure potion. He sat opposite me at the large desk as I worked, his own notes and calculations forming a pile to his right.
"I think I've figured out the last ingredient," I said, catching my Master's attention.
Zab looked up from his own studies. "Excellent. May I?" he asked, holding out a hand.
I nodded, picking up my notes and passing them to him. He ran his eye over my work. "I think it's Shrivelfig. There was only a short note on it in your reference guides, since it isn't really a modern ingredient. Most of its effects can be mimicked or improved in nearly all potions by using other, more common ingredients."
Zab nodded absently, still reading. "Yes, that would make sense. And since it was commonly used when this text was written, yes, I believe you are correct. Good work, Harry," he said, his nose buried deep in my notes.
"Thank you, Master. We still don't know the correct amounts of some of the ingredients, so we'll probably have to recreate the original potion first before we try and improve it with modern replacement ingredients."
Zab gave me a smile. "Yes. That had been my intention. Come, let us examine the contents of my storeroom."
We rose, myself with more than a little excitement. So far, Zab's potion storeroom had been out of bounds.
The storeroom was located in Zab's study, cunningly hidden within the grain of the wood in one wall. Zab opened the door with a short, muttered incantation. A faint, sickly green glow emanated from a roughly door-shaped area of the wall, before a loud click signalled the release of the magical lock. Silently, the door swung inwards and I felt the cool dry air from the room within on my face.
As Zab stepped in, the room slowly lit up, several crystal globes positioned at various places glowing softly. Shelves lined all four walls, filled with containers, books and artefacts. A large, utilitarian workbench occupied the center of the room. Zab placed our shopping list down on the table and began reading out the ingredients, pointing to various shelves.
With a silent shrug, I followed his directions, collecting the various ingredients. The majority were selected from two walls, seemingly filled with benign, common or inexpensive reagents. It was only when Zab directed me to collect the giant's blood from the far wall that things went wrong.
As my fingers grasped the large glass container filled with the surprisingly viscous liquid, a magical trap sent a shock up my arms so quickly that I didn't recognise that I'd been zapped until after I woke up.
I really should be used to the universe crapping in the box labelled 'Harry Potter's karma' by now. I had subconsciously assumed that after I took control of my life I would have, in some minor way, stopped every bad thing from happening to me. Or at least reduced in number the incidents that require me to have medical attention.
Colour me surprised.
The light above me was blinding as I tugged my eyelids open. Blinking rapidly, I took stock of my situation.
At least two house elves were busy, quietly buzzing around the bed. I tried to sit up, only to find that I had absolutely no control of my body.
"Ah, welcome back, Harry. I must apologise, I had no idea the shelves at the back of my store were warded in such a way. I have since discovered that they are trapped against those not of Zabini blood."
"Oops," I managed, trying for withering sarcasm, but getting only uncontrolled dribbling. I tried to sit up, but found it impossible.
"Don't strain yourself unduly. Sensation and motor control will return in due course. I'd estimate that within the hour you will have full control back."
"Goo' 'rap."
Zab frowned momentarily, before nodded. "Yes, I believe my paternal grandmother placed the original wards. She was a powerful, though particularly paranoid, witch."
I tried my hardest to give him an incredulous stare, but I'm not sure I managed anything like it.
Zab patted my shoulder. "Again, I'm sorry. I've collected the rest of the reagents required, sparing you further inconvenience. I must apologise again."
He actually seemed quite upset. Not surprising really. "'k," I offered.
He nodded, looking abashed, and left me in peace.
It didn't take an hour for me to get most of my bodily control back, but I was still a little twitchy a few hours later. Because of that, Zab wordlessly manipulated the assembled ingredients on the potion workbench himself.
"While the majority of the reagents are still potent and usable, we are missing a few. One of which is, unfortunately, giant's blood."
I frowned. "Um, no. I quite clearly remember selecting giant's blood from the shelf at the back. It was rather embedded in my memory. Shockingly so, as a matter of fact."
Zab sighed softly. "Again, I'm sorry, Harry. There is little more I can do or say. I hope you can put this behind you, letting an accident-"
I held up my hand. "No, I'm sorry for my tone." He really was sorry. I needed to grow up. "I will not bring it up again. I just seem to have been behind the door when the universe was handing out good luck."
Zab nodded, a small smile on his lips. "Quite. In all honesty, I cannot quite gauge the hardships you have had to endure in your life. I have always been privileged, born to both wealth and power. However, I refuse to apologise for that which was outside of my control."
I tilted my head to one side. "You apologised to me, yet you said that you didn't know the shelf was warded."
Zab nodded. "But I should have. I placed you in a situation where I had not taken all possible steps to ensure your safety. It is for that that I apologise."
I nodded. "Accepted, and thank you. Now, about this supposedly non-existent giant's blood."
Zab chuckled softly. "I'm afraid there is no dispute as to the current whereabouts of the blood. The entire container is now currently residing, in pieces, mind, in the rubbish. The contents of said container were cleaned off both the storeroom floor and your clothes."
"Ah."
"Indeed."
A pause. "And? Why would that be unfortunate?"
Zab rolled his eyes. "Think, Harry. I can't imagine that the trap scrambled your brains. Not unless the old bat was far more vindictive that I remember."
I ran a hand down my face. "Ok. Since I was out I imagine you were busy getting the ingredients you don't have."
Zab nodded encouragingly.
I frowned. "Right, so since you said it was unfortunate that there was no giant's blood, I'm assuming you mean usable giant's blood, unless it can be wrung out of a mop."
"Go on," Zab said with a trace of laughter in his voice.
I paused, before figuring it out. "There isn't any giant's blood available right now. All the apothecaries are sold out."
Zab tilted his head to one side. "And?"
I blinked. What? Was there a problem? A supply issue?
Realisation dawned. Oh, bugger.
"The giants have joined Voldemort," I blurted. "There won't be any available in the near future."
Zab nodded. "Yes. Giant's blood is particularly difficult to collect at the best of times. Most giants are notoriously unwilling to part with any, you understand. My supplier estimates a three month delay on being able to fulfil my order."
"Three months?"
"Unfortunately."
"Why can't you harvest some yourself?"
Zab lowered his head, looking at me from under his eyebrows. "Surely you have noticed that I don't have a giant farm listed under my assets."
I nodded. "I know."
Zab didn't let up. "You are also aware that there are no living giants in the British Isles. They were routed and expelled during Grindlewald's reign."
I winced. "That's not entirely correct."
Zab breathed in and out twice before speaking. "You had better have intimate knowledge of a giant's location somewhere in the British Isles."
I nodded slowly. "I do."
Again, Zab took his time in responding. "If we collect the necessary tools, we can floo to Hogsmeade within the hour. That will allow us to enter the Forbidden Forest under the cover of darkness."
My mouth dropped open, but I snapped it shut after a second. Thinking through an idea was becoming a habit. "The forest is the only place I've been, or at least know of, that a giant could live undetected."
Zab smiled and nodded. "You know Harry, logic and reasoning are rare traits in a wizard. It is good to see them in such a talented individual. Even better is to see you cultivate them. Right now, however, you will explain to me in minutly intimate detail exactly how you know that a giant is living in the Forbidden Forest."