XII: Preparations and Calculations
Track Twelve: Phoenix, Big Red Machine
When Circe walked into the classroom the first thing she saw was a tower of precariously stacked books sitting on one of the empty desks in the corner. She seemed to have reached the abandoned room first, so she took the time to observe. The ceiling was covered in cobwebs and each of the desks' sat covered with a thick layer of dust, the room had obviously been in disuse for a number of years. She had just started making her way over to the large stack of books in the corner when a noise caught her attention.
"You're here early." Hermione cleared her throat, lifting herself out of her chair and her nose out of the book she was currently studying. Her large brown mass of hair was particularly frizzy today, Circe secretly admired her eccentric look. Her thick brown curls laid in disarray, framing her pale freckled face that speckled her skin. Her frazzled appearence was a direct contrast to her mind, which seemed to be neatly organized with the knowledge of hundreds of different topics.
"You know, I'm surprised you actually decided to show up, after the whole ordeal with Malfoy this morning."
Obviously, Circe knew what happened with Draco earlier that day, apparently, Potter had turned him into a ferret. Knowing Draco, he probably deserved it. Although, Circe did not appreciate the insinuation that she would ever side with Draco on a matter so trivial. She'd rarely had contact with him in their years since starting Hogwarts. The thought of being associated with his astronomically sized ego and bigotry made her feel repulsed.
"Ah and I didn't think you'd show up either, after the whole ordeal in the library earlier this week."
Hermione flushed and looked embarrassed at that, she hadn't realized Circe overheard her and Harry's spat. "Oh I hadn't realized you heard that" She looked down and began rearranging some of the books on the table, placing them in her arms.
"I brought some books for us to use, they may be helpful considering that the other champions have all had three more years of defense study than Harry. Most of them cover fifth-year spells and theory, which is good since they hold the most useful and common jinxes and hexes." She hauled several large books into Circe's hands, whose eyes widened in surprise at the weight of the books. Hermione continued lifting up new books, sorting them into piles and loading them into Circe's waiting arms as she talked "If you haven't been able to tell yet, Harry is being awfully stubborn with all of this. He keeps insisting he can do it himself, but his head is too thick to acknowledge that the odds are all stacked against him." She sighed, shaking her head as she leaned against the desk nearest to them.
Hermione stood up suddenly, eyes lighting up. Circe quickly turned her head and noticed Harry standing in the doorway. Hermione immediately took charge and took one of the book stacks and plopped it quite harshly in Harry's arms.
"While you've been taking your time getting down here I have been informing Circe of what we will be working on. I'm hoping to use the next few weeks to help you with fifth-year Defense theory and spells, since I've already skimmed most of the coursework over the summer I have a pretty solid idea of what we will be using. I also recall Circe not being abysmal at Defense so she'll be a good sparring partner as well."
Harry, after being bombarded by Hermione, had yet to notice Circe in the room. His eyes found hers and he looked mildly surprised that she had actually followed through and shown up. Hermione continued bombarding them with tasks and orders, never mind the fact that Circe had suggested the meeting. She didn't mind though, in truth Hermione was extremely helpful and knew what she was doing, unlike Circe.
After all three of them had been sitting for nearly forty-five minutes, going through pages upon pages of instructions on various defense spells. And by the time they finally decided to spar, they were already exhausted. All three of them worked to vanish the desks in order to clear the room for use. Hermione asserted herself as referee, as she didn't care for hand-to-hand combat.
Circe was used to this, as Nymphadora had been training her in basic self-defense for the last few years since she decided to undertake training to be an Auror. She assumed her dueling position, keeping her wand close to her chest and pushing a number of familiar jinxes, protection spells, and hexes to the forefront of her mind for easy access. Harry stared her down, his piercing green eyes looked vibrant and sharp as he mentally took note of her stature and the technique in which she held herself.
Hermione counted down and it seemed to take a painstakingly long time to get down to zero. Once she did, Circe immediately through an experimental hex she had read about only moments before. Harry dodged it but only by a hair, he immediately threw jelly legs jinx back at her.
"Come on Potter, you can do better than that!" She grinned, dueling hadn't been this fun since she stunned Vincent Crabbe in her second year. Despite her love for transfiguration, Circe always had an affinity for dueling, which was surprising considering she was extremely clumsy and ungraceful in almost every other area in her life.
Harry grimaced as his own jinx rebounded onto him, sending him straight to the ground. Circe nearly shouted in glee, her competitive side was showing and she enjoyed winning more than anything. She almost forgot the purpose of the duel, which was to help Harry learn new spells to defend himself with, not to send him flying to the ground. As this thought was running through her head, she was momentarily distracted and failed to react in time to a jinx flying her way which sent her flying up against the wall behind her. The impact was harsh and she fell against the wall, rubbing the back of her head. She felt her cheeks begin to warm in embarrassment. Grimacing, she lifted herself back up while massaging the bump she felt forming on her skull.
"Well, Potter it's good to know that if a dragon swipes you off your feet and sends you plummeting down a few hundred meters you'll still be able to partially stun it."
Harry scoffed and turned away, looking annoyed.
Circe gave him a sharp look and huffed as she straightened the cuffs on her sleeves. When Hermione cleared her throat from the corner, Circe and Harry were reminded that she was there.
"Circe's not wrong, Harry. Casting a spell when you're already down won't do you much good in the arena in a few weeks."
Harry looked frustrated and he tugged his fingers through his hair "I know that, Hermione. I was just distracted, she just got lucky that one time. I doubt it'll happen again." He shot her a glare.
Circe thought it was ironic he said this with such a cocky look in his eye right after being struck down, but she choose to keep her mouth shut. Hermione continued on but Circe had stopped listening and she was sure Harry had stopped listening too. After a bit, the three began to pack up the books and their belongings.
Hermione left before them both, claiming she had to find Professor Flitchwick to ask him a question about a charms assignment. Harry and Circe both put the desks back in the room in silence, working in tandem to restore the room back to its original state.
Since their first day back at Hogwarts, Harry had always seemed uncomfortable and on edge around Circe, his eyes never quite met hers for more than a few moments. She suspected it had something to do with her uncle but she choose not to pry.
She couldn't shake the guilt she felt each time she spoke to him, she felt as though the last name she bore had laid the burden of her family's atrocities onto her. She felt as though she had to be the one to balance the scales of the Black family and hopefully, helping keep Harry Potter alive would account for some of that.
It was Harry who broke the silence first. He turned to look at Circe properly for the first time since he'd first entered the room. "Er, I'm sorry about earlier. I mean, I never said thank you after you offered to help. As you saw earlier, I need all the help I can get." He let out an awkward sort of chuckle and looked hopefully toward Circe.
"It was no problem, really. I figured it was the least I could do, considering last year and all."
Harry looked confused, his eyes were squinted as if he was trying to remember something far from his reach, buried in the back of his mind. "Last year?" He asked, with genuine confusion painted on his face. Circe was baffled, she had heard Harry could be dense but she didn't expect him to be this thick-skulled.
"You do know, my last name is Black, right?" She said with a grimace.
His expression showed that it had finally registered what Circe was getting at. This boy was awful at picking up context clues, Circe thought.
Harry looked down and rubbed the back of his head, looking awfully guilty about something. "Oh, right." His expression reminded Circe of a toddler who had poorly hidden a broken piece of china. Which was odd considering that Circe should be the one feeling guilty, it's not as though his family was full of mass murderers. The two fell into an awkward but bearable silence again, adjusting their bags as they walked to the end of the corridor. When Circe glanced at Harry from the corner of her eye, he looked as though he was about to say something.
"Right. Well, I'll see you tomorrow then." Harry looked as though he wears internally debating on saying something more, but he seemed to have decided against it as he was already turning the corner.
Circe led herself to the stairs down to the dungeons, uttering a "Goodbye Potter" before parting ways to head towards their own separate common rooms.
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The next day seemed to drag. The mundanity of her classes tugged at her eyelids, they drooped further towards her desk with each passing hour, and by the second hour of potions, she was practically asleep in their cauldron.
"Alright there, Black?" Theo said, smirking as he stirred their potion and looking rather amused at Circe's state of exhaustion. She rolled her eyes and laid her head on her arm, observing as he added beetroot to the concoction. "Tired after your little rendezvous with Potter last night?" He said with a mischievous glint in his eye.
Circe shot up from her spot on their table, her senses becoming more alert and her cheeks heating up at his insinuation. "Who told you that? Potter and I are barely friends."
Nott grinned "Draco told me he saw you and Potter coming out of an abandoned classroom looking rather flushed yesterday evening. It's hard to believe you could manage to tarnish the sacred Black family name more than your uncle already has." He let out a breathy laugh as he continued to work on the potion.
Circe scowled back at him. She was too exhausted to argue, she had spent the whole of last night pouring over the books Hermione had sent her back with, and all she wanted to do now was sleep.
"We were dueling, Nott." She said with a tired sigh. "Be sure to tell that cousin of mine to stay quiet until I get my dress for the Yule Ball. I don't need him writing to mummy and ruining my chances of getting it through the mail on time."
Nott snorted "Is that really what you're worried about? Not that he'll tell the whole school?"
"He wouldn't do that, no one would believe him anyways. Harry and I have barely spoken two words to each other in public and besides, the only thing it would do would paint him as a gossip."
Theodore sat back down next to her, apparently finished with their potion. "Ah. I see, have you a date for the ball yet?" He looked at her with an inquisitive stare.
If the abrupt switch of topics shocked Circe, she didn't let it show. She shook her head, pushing herself off the desk as she reclined back into her seat.
"No plans as of yet. I'll probably end up going with Emrys, though."
She couldn't lie, she had been thinking about the ball a lot as of late. The topic of the Yule Ball had been buzzing about Hogwarts for the last few weeks and the anticipation was getting at her.
"What about you? You know, I've seen Millicent making eyes at you from the back of the room for the last half hour." Circe had a cheeky grin on her face, half laughing as she said it.
Theodore turned around abruptly, with a terrified look on his face as soon as the words left Circe's mouth. When his eyes scanned the back of the classroom without finding Millicent, he rolled his eyes "Very funny, Circe".
In their second year, Millicent Bulstrode had a raging crush on Theodore Nott which resulted in a very terrified twelve-year-old Theo, taking alternate routes to the common room very late at night, trying to avoid Millicent. Eventually, the prefects gave up on chastising the boy for wandering around late at night, they couldn't help but sympathize with him. Circe thought this was hilarious and relished in the look of terror painted on his face. She let out a loud laugh, turning heads from around the potions class and earning her a scowl from Snape.
Nott shook his head, attempting to hide a smile. "No plans for me as of yet either". Circe nodded, gathering her belongings as the hand on the clock reached closer to the top of the hour. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Nott had begun to look at her oddly as if he was internally debating something. She opted to remain quiet and finished gathering her things.
The pair followed the remaining students out the door, trying not to bump into each other as they were pushed into the halls. Nott broke the silence first "Well, I'll make sure to tell your cousin that you weren't snogging Potter in the Transfiguration classroom yesterday. I'm sure Draco will be relieved that he won't have to send that letter to his mother." Nott smirked when Circe's face tinged pink before she bade the Slytherin goodbye.
She had barely reached Defense when the bell tower signaled the start of class. She quickly scurried to her usual spot by Kat, who raised her eyebrows at Circe's chaotic appearance. She had just sat down when the door to Professor Moody's office slammed open. The noise ricocheted off the walls and startled Seamus Finnegan who had been sleeping on the desk in front of her.
Professor Moody scanned the room from his podium, his fake eye swirling up and down. His eyes met hers and lingered, she glimpsed a small sparkle of remembrance in his eyes. A shiver went down her spine as Circe looked away, she gathered that Moody was merely recognizing her as the niece of the man he had arrested for the murder of 13 muggles, 14 years earlier.
She often noted his peculiar behavior, he was known to be an odd man but she couldn't help but feel as though there was something sinister lurking underneath. Circe's feeling of suspicion was amplified each time she watched him drink from his flask, her senses were heightened, sharp, and crafted. Thus, she couldn't help but shake the feeling that something was off. She ignored this nagging feeling in her chest, dragging out a piece of parchment to take notes on. She then spent the remainder of class plotting and scheming for the training session, later that afternoon.
Moody was quickly forgotten when Circe entered the training room that afternoon. She saw that it had already been converted into a practice space and that Hermione had dozens of books strewn about. She barely looked up when Circe came into the room, uttering a brief "Hello Circe" before continuing to scan her books, making small and hurried notes in the margins.
Hermione looked frazzled and her voice climbed higher and higher in pitch when she talked, it was obvious that the realization that the first task was mere days away was starting to set in. Circe couldn't deny that the stress was starting to reach her as well. Despite being well assured that no one would be maimed or killed, she couldn't help but think about the thousands of different ways that a fire-breathing dragon could easily kill a fourteen-year-old boy.
Circe joined her on the floor, circling and folding down pages that looked as though they could be useful. She found several notable spells such as a mouth-binding charm, which bound the target's mouth and prevented them from talking, or in this case, breathing lethal fire. Circe quickly jotted down the hand movements and practiced speaking the spell aloud.
She hadn't realized that she had unintentionally cast it on Hermione until the witch began incessantly tapping her, trying to signal that she could no longer talk. Circe apologized profusely as she cast the counter curse and continued to look guilty even after Hermione repeatedly assured her that it was an innocent mistake.
Circe would've kept apologizing, had Harry not come in. Circe noticed he looked rather pale and sickly, his under-eyes looked just as swollen as Circe and Hermiones. It was obvious none of them had been getting much sleep as of late.
He immediately joined them on the floor and the trio worked in silence for several minutes until Circe suggested they share any spells they thought were useful. Hermione's eyes crinkled with laughter when Circe brought up the mouth-binding spell, quickly noting it down in her book. Harry nodded in agreement that it would be useful, but the group quickly settled into silence again. The feeling of resignation settled heavily around the room, all three of them somberly realized that there was little they could do to help Harry days before the tournament. The trio left early that day.
Circe decided to linger behind for another moment after Hermione had left for dinner. She waited at the door as Harry gathered some of the books they gathered. When he joined her at the door, Circe noticed his eyes sat downcasted and tired.
"Are you headed to dinner?"
Harry shook his head no as they started out of the classroom, they mostly walked in silence down the staircases. They'd never explicitly said that they would head to the kitchens, but both their legs marched in sync, bringing them to the portrait of the pear.
Circe tickled the cheerful fruit and hoisted herself into the portrait, taking one of the larger books from Harry and setting it down on a table. Both of them requested a plate of tarts to share and they began diligently studying.
After an hour passed, Circe's head began to feel fuzzy and the letters seemed to cramp up and blur together on the page. She sensed that Harry might be feeling similarly and when she looked up her suspicions were confirmed, as his head was slumped against his hand, trying to stay awake. Circe shut her book, causing Harry to startle slightly. Circe chewed her lip, debating on whether or not to bring up an idea that had struck her somewhere along the way during their hours of studying.
She turned to face him, "Have you thought about flying?"
His eyebrow raised slightly "Flying?"
Circe nodded and showed him some notes she had made on the napkin, that lay next to their treacle tart "Yes, I think flying may give you the advantage you need against the dragon. Something to make up for your lack of advanced spellwork. You're an awfully skilled Quidditch player, so you could possibly utilize that in your strategy." Circe looked expectantly at Harry, his face was frozen in contemplation, weighing the idea that she had presented.
"That could work. Though, we'd have to use a summoning spell, wouldn't we? I don't recall anything written explicitly in the rules against using a summoning spell for a broom." He was silent for a moment, internally plotting.
"I think this could really work."
His eyes glittered hopefully and a smile slowly crawled across his face, he looked as though he was feeling hopeful for the first time since the tournament began. "I could ask Hermione to pull some literature on the summoning charm later tonight."
Circe nodded in agreement, she felt a weight lifted off of her conscious. "I think that you may have a shot at staying alive now" she mused with a smile dancing on her lips.
Harry laughed and smiled back at her, they both relished in their newfound hopefulness. The pair felt both giddy and delirious, dissolving into a fit of giggles from the absurdity of it all.
It seemed more and more ridiculous the more Circe thought about it, that Harry had been chosen to fight a dragon at school, in an utterly binding contract. The two continued cackling, as sleep deprivation gnawed at their skulls.
They descended out of the portrait hole, Harry grabbed a giggling Circe's hand and grinned as they walked together to the end of the hallway. Harry didn't realize how addicting her laugh was until he bade Circe goodbye and ascended the stairs.
As Circe walked back to the Hufflepuff common room she couldn't wipe the smile from off her face. She decided that Harry may not have been the bad omen she thought he was, but an enigma she had yet to figure out. She slept deeply until the next morning, awaking with a smile gracing her lips.
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authors note:
sorry for the late update!! hope you all enjoyed! don't forget to leave a vote & comment :)