'Oh fuck me,' he mentally shouted as he rolled to one side, the door rocketing past his head and going through the supposedly unbreakable castle window, missing him by mere centimetres, the heat wave burning his face as the fire reached the first desk.
...
He frantically got to his feet to combat this next threat to his life and heard a voice seeming to come from the very walls, "All students please return to your common rooms immediately," the Deputy Headmistress' voice being heard throughout the entire school. "Prefects, please escort the younger students." He paid little attention to this as he was desperately conjuring water with several complex twists of his wand, remembering the wand movements from a 3rd year charms book, while mentally forming the image of a large ball of water within his mind and focusing on his desire for water. Not exactly hard in this situation. "Aqua Pila!" he exclaimed, his wand protesting a bit as only a small ball of water left the tip of his wand, impacting the table and pushing back the flames for a moment.
Whilst naturally ecstatic at successfully casting the third-year spell on his first attempt, the spell had little noticeable effect on the spreading fire. As smoke grew and gathered in the room, making breathing difficult, he repeated the spell, channelling more power this time yet still feeling the same resistance from his wand. This time a football-sized ball of water launched itself at the flames.
Realising that he was losing the battle with the magical fire, he looked towards his only remaining means of escape, the windows. Quickly conjuring another ball of water, the large orb grew on his wand, growing bigger the longer he held the spell and focused on his desire, feeling the subtle pull on his magical core, before unleashing the overpowered spell at the fire to buy a little bit of time.
Sweeping his wand, he sent a quick banishing charm at the window, pushing it open and causing a billow of smoke to erupt out into the winter air.
He launched himself forward towards the open window, 'far better a broken leg or two than being burnt alive,' he mentally told himself as he leapt out the window, putting his faith in surviving the short fall.
Instantly feeling the biting cold on his burned face, gravity took control, pulling him down to the snow-covered ground below. He pulled his legs in tight, trying to ensure that he landed legs first rather than face first, just as he remembered the levitation charm. Flicking his wand again, he easily cast the first-year charm on himself, but it was too little too late as he crashed into the ground going much too fast. He heard the all-too-familiar 'snapping' sound he easily recognised as bones breaking and an intense pain in his leg.
With every iota of knowledge on how to fall with minimal injury running through his occlumency-enhanced mind, he bent his knees and rolled forward in the snow, tucking his chin tightly against his chest to prevent a neck injury and slapping the ground to bleed off his momentum. He finally came to a stop, lying on his back, entirely still, looking up into the empty grey sky as he focused on blocking out the nearly unbearable pain.
Looking down at his leg he saw that the bone had broken through his flesh, looking like polished ivory painted with wet crimson, a seedling reaching for the sky, and his blood tainting the fairy-tale white snow, turning it a sickly pink.
"Mr. Potter!" Professor Sprout exclaimed, the head of Hufflepuff House rushing over to him from the direction of the greenhouses, as a group of students followed behind her. "What happened here?!"
Remembering Professor McGonagall's announcement, he realised that his student audience was probably being escorted by the professor. "Pettigrew just tried to kill me again," he said bitterly, thinking it was rather easy to tell all things considered, since he wouldn't have jumped out of a multi-story window without a damn good reason. 'At least now I've had my two per year,' trying to stay positive, 'but the year ends in just over three weeks.'
"We should get you to the hospital wing immediately," Professor Sprout said, recovering her wits.
'No shit,' he mentally retorted.
...
(Hospital Wing)
Gagging at the sour taste of the bone regrowth potion, Tonks took the empty glass away as the matron brought out several more potions. "Mr. Potter, drink these," the nurse instructed, first handing him another numbing draught to dull the intense pain before giving him another blood-replenishing potion, which he recognised from when Penny was being treated last year.
"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall greeted stiffly, entering the hospital wing.
"Good afternoon," he responded with fake cheer and a good measure of sarcasm. "Have the Aurors found out how Pettigrew got into the school and halls? How he was able to bewitch the decorations outside the potions lab I've used all year long to explode without being detected?" he fired off in a quick volley. "After all, I'm starting to question why I pay Ministry taxes and why the Aurors are even here in the first place if they can't do their job," he said in earshot of the two Aurors standing outside the medical wing.
"Be nice, Harry," Tonks chided gently from his bedside, whilst the Deputy Headmistress seemed to be wrestling with similar questions herself.
"So Harry, can you tell me exactly what happened?" the Deputy Headmistress enquired.
"Shouldn't Madam Bones be here?" he asked, wondering where the head of Magical Law Enforcement was so he could voice his complaints properly.
"Madam Bones is in a meeting with the Headmaster and with your godfather. They should be here soon. I just want to get the key details of what happened so I can start securing the school," the Deputy Headmistress explained.
He recounted his memory of the events, how he was effectively backed into the potions lab by the fire and being forced to jump out the window as a last resort.
"That was very brave of you, Mr. Potter. It's a shame you're not in my own house," Professor McGonagall stated, almost with a sigh.
"Not really," he said, getting a curious glance from the Deputy Headmistress and the matron. "It was the only logical option, and gave me the best chance of surviving as I couldn't defeat the flames. The window was the only option, there was nothing brave about it, it was simply do or die," he explained, before his curiosity got the better of him. "Why was the fire so resistant to water? I know it was magical fire, but I would have thought water spells would have been more effective."
"And that's why my cousin is a Ravenclaw, even after almost getting burnt alive, he's asking questions about the magic involved," Tonks said affectionately, before messing up his hair.
"Hey!" he protested, trying to stop his cousin's antics.
"Miss Tonks, please restrain yourself or I'll be forced to ask you to leave," the matron warned, giving the 7th year a serious look.
"To answer your question, Mr. Potter, there is an herb, commonly known as Firegrass or Dragon's Tongue, and it is the ingredient most often used to make most anti-fire potions. When it's processed, broken down, and added to several other magical substances, it makes a tar. This tar is called Wetsbreath. The name is rather misleading and unassuming since it was named after its creator, but it can be used to protect objects from water damage. The polish you use on your Quidditch broom to protect it actually contains Wetsbreath as one of its base components.
Of course, there are also spells on your brooms offering the same type of protection, but spells fade if not maintained. What is less known about this tar is that when it is exposed to fire, it changes the properties of magical fire, making it resistant to water until it is fully consumed by the fire it's exposed to. We believe Peter placed this tar within each decoration," the Deputy Headmistress remarked.
"Interesting," he admitted, finding a bit more respect for Pettigrew after using such a clever attack. If the man had been waiting in the lab instead, he would have been dead, which was rather sobering.
"Peter was always good at potions, Mr. Potter. He was surprisingly third place in your father's year in potions, behind both your mother and Professor Snape. If Peter desired, he could have probably studied and received a mastery in potions."
"I didn't know that," he admitted reluctantly, feeling a bit foolish for not knowing more about the man who was repeatedly attempting to kill him.
"I'm not surprised, everyone overlooked him, even myself," the Gryffindor head of house offered. "In my defence, it was easy to do when you placed him with your father and godfather, who were always causing trouble and chaos. Peter was never extraordinary at magic, and struggled at NEWT Level in both Charms and DADA. But he was very good at the secondary fields of magic, like runes and potions, because they don't rely on active magic usage, just understanding, precision, and patience."
"I'll send around a note to the staff that you are excused from lessons until Thursday," the Deputy Headmistress said. "However, you still have to do your homework," she added with a half-hearted stern look.
Smiling at the remark, "Madam, I always do my homework, and it has never been less than Outstanding when it's been marked fairly and without personal bias," he reminded her of Snape's past actions.
"Indeed, your homework has always been up to a good standard, just like your mother's was," the Deputy Headmistress said fondly. "Your father's homework was always rushed and looked like it was written in code. That boy was too busy pranking, playing Quidditch, and chasing girls to focus on work."
"Oh, I know," he offered with a mischievous smile which easily caught her attention. "Sirius has been trying to get me to take up the marauder code," he said in good humour, watching as the Deputy Headmistress seemed to pale at the remark. "He said something about a cat bowl and the 'Gemino Curse'."
"I can teach you that if you want?" Tonks said, hiding her grin from the Deputy Headmistress.
"That man!" the cat animagus screeched.
"Talking about me?" Sirius enquired with a smirk as he entered the hospital wing. "I know you've missed me."
...
AN :
I just want to take a moment to thank all of you for the support. Your words really lifted me up, and to those who joined the Patreon you honestly didn't have to, but I appreciate it more than I can say. It genuinely made me happy.
As you've probably noticed, I don't usually put a lot of author's notes. I've never been great at expressing myself directly I let the writing do that for me. So for me to write this, it really does mean a lot.
I also want to reassure you that I'll do my best to keep up with the current schedule. I'm not dropping the story. In fact, there's still a lot planned ahead we're not even halfway through what I want to share with you.
So, truly, thank you again for being here. Your support means more than I can put into words.
...
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