Harry finally relaxed enough to smile back.
“I’ll be sure to consult you if I need it, Professor. Professor Babbling offered her help as well.”
“Yes, I imagine she would. We don’t often get two rune prodigies in such quick succession!”
“Er… she said I was actually a savant, sir.”
“Even better!” Flitwick practically squeaked.
He seemed to vibrate with excitement.
“I, for one, greatly look forward to whatever you produce, Mr Potter!”
Harry blushed and rubbed the back of his neck.
“For the moment I’m trying not to get too complicated. Hermione’s already helping me with the Charms work I’ve been struggling with, so I probably won’t need to trouble you about that either.”
“Excellent. Miss Granger should make a first-rate tutor.”
“Professor… you mentioned my mum. I have a notebook of hers that she left with a note saying you might be interested. If you’d like to look at it…”
“I’d be delighted.” A shadow of sadness crossed the little man’s face.
“I am so very sorry about their passing.”
“Did you know them well, sir?” Harry asked quietly.
“Your mother, yes. Your father rather less so. We got along well enough, and I always enjoyed the pranks he and his friends devised, but your mother was my star pupil. She spent a great deal of time trying to keep young James in line, and later, while she was preparing for her Mastery, she complained to me quite often about his antics.”
“Do you know if she ever changed her mind about my Aunt Petunia?”
Flitwick tilted his head.
“What do you mean, Mr Potter?”
“One of her notes was very clear that my aunt was never to have anything to do with me. Since I’m living with them, I was curious what happened.”
“I’m afraid she never mentioned it to me. We had little chance to speak after you were born. I know Minerva—Professor McGonagall—visited a few times afterwards. You might try asking her.” Follow the newest chapters on NovelPing.
“I will, sir. Thank you.”
Flitwick clapped his hands together, a fresh grin splitting his face.
“Now—about the Duelling Circuit. Would you be interested? It leans more heavily on wand-work than runes, unfortunately, though if the incident a few days ago is any indication, your tactical instincts are already sharp enough to take you far.”
Harry bit his lip.
Runes were easy; designing defensive or offensive clusters would take time, but not much difficulty.
Spells, however, were another matter entirely.
Hermione, Neville, even Lavender could probably best him with basic charms.
“Everything is still fairly new to me, Professor. Perhaps I could learn a few spells from you over the course of the year, and we could talk about the Circuit again next year?”
Flitwick sighed theatrically.
“Damn. Can’t blame a man for trying.” He chuckled.
“One day I’ll be able to claim I trained the youngest World Champion—just you watch!” Harry laughed.
“Of course, Mr Potter. I’ll gladly teach you some of the more useful basics, and we can revisit the idea of competitions whenever you feel ready.”
“Thank you, Professor.”
“Not at all, not at all. Now, I believe it’s nearly time for your detention, so I won’t keep you. Shall we say our first lesson next Wednesday evening?”
“Sounds good, sir. May I bring Neville and Hermione as well?”
“Who knows—perhaps one of them will develop an interest in the Circuit… youngest Champion, here I come!”
Harry entered Professor McGonagall’s classroom with a nervous shuffle.
“Hello, Professor.”
“Mr Potter. Take a seat.” She finished marking the essay in front of her before looking up.
“Let me begin by saying how extremely glad I am that none of you were injured last week. Thank you for going after Miss Granger. In future, however—should Merlin forbid another emergency arise—please make every effort to inform a member of staff or a prefect.”
“Yes, Professor.”
Her expression hardened into a glare that made Harry wilt.
“Now… just what were you thinking? Keeping an item that volatile inside your pack? You could have been killed!”
“But, ma’am, it wasn’t volatile,” he protested.
“It would do nothing unless activated, and the only way to activate it was by channelling power directly into the Primer rune.”
“And if a stray spell from a classmate had struck it during class? Or while you were walking down a corridor?”
Harry’s mouth went dry.
His eyes widened as images of smoking fragments of himself raining across a hallway flashed through his mind.
“I… I hadn’t thought of that.”
McGonagall sighed and rubbed her forehead.
“I appreciate that you tried to keep others safe by not leaving the cluster lying about, but simply throwing dangerous experiments into your bag is not an adequate precaution. I will not forbid you from experimenting—Merlin knows how well that ever works.” She muttered the last part under her breath.
“I will, however, insist that any unfinished work either remains locked in your trunk or is carried in a spell-resistant lockbox.”
Harry nodded.