Electives like Divination (Literature), Arithmancy (Math), Care of Magical Creatures (Biology), Muggle Studies (Civics), and Ancient Runes (Classical Literature) are surprisingly essential. Some should've started in first year.
Dark Wizard in the Making
With two weeks left of summer, Harry asked Sirius about Antonin Dolohov. His whereabouts remained unknown, and The Daily Prophet increasingly criticized the Ministry's negligence and the Aurors' failure to track him, with Rita Skeeter's articles leading the charge.
"Sirius, what's Dolohov like?" Harry asked.
"Why the sudden interest?" Sirius replied.
"You fought him, right? I thought hearing about your battles might give me something to share with friends."
Harry's curiosity wasn't just from newspapers. Draco Malfoy sent a formal letter warning Harry about Zabini's dangerous mother and Zabini himself. Harry planned to dismiss this, urging Draco to respect Zabini as a Slytherin ally, but Draco's next words were chilling:
"Father's scared since Dolohov's escape. I've never seen him like this."
Draco's fear bled through:
"Be careful. Dolohov, Father says, was the Dark Lord's most loyal. He likely hates you and will target you. Burn this letter after reading to avoid burns, Potter."
If Ron read it, he'd scoff and tear it up. Draco's father, Lucius, a former Death Eater, still clung to anti-Muggle extremism, either for convenience or family ties. Harry shared that prejudice but, thanks to friends, was learning its folly and trying to change, using Lucius as a cautionary tale.
Still, Harry separated Lucius from Dolohov. Labeling Lucius dangerous risked branding Snape the same. Draco's rare warning signaled real danger—his knack for sensing trouble was unmatched, as Harry learned in years one and two.
Waiting for Sirius's reply, Harry sensed his hesitation. "It's not a fun story," Sirius said.
"That's fine," Harry replied.
"I crossed wands with him a few times. Don't know his personality—what he felt, laughed, or raged at. But he was… troublesome."
"Troublesome? Strong?" Harry asked.
"Not strong. Just a killer. A relentless nuisance."
Sirius cursed Dolohov but steadied himself. "Most Death Eaters were scum who groveled to the powerful and crushed the weak. My brother included."
Harry stayed silent, unable to respond.
"Dolohov could lead that scum," Sirius continued. "He turned petty thugs into dark wizards, disposable pawns. He'd charm them, gain trust, then force them into irredeemable crimes, trapping them."
"Dark," Harry said, trying to laugh but failing. Sirius's grim expression and the imagined fates of those pawns—perhaps killed by Sirius or Harry's parents in self-defense—stifled him. Harry didn't blame them but sensed the war's brutal scars in Sirius's words.
Observing Harry, Sirius decided, (Better to tell him now than delay. It's for his sake.)
"Under Dolohov, thugs used curses to avoid his wrath, firing dark magic by the dozen. His groups were more cohesive than others'. You'd take down his lackeys, hand them to Aurors, but new ones replaced them. He stayed untouchable, adapting faster than we could counter. A maddening organization."
"Thought he'd be stronger," Harry said.
"Stronger than you, at least," Sirius said firmly. "Don't even think about catching him."
"I'm not that reckless or arrogant," Harry protested. "You don't trust me?"
"You're like me. If you heard Dolohov was in Hogsmeade, you'd chase him. You beat a basilisk, after all."
Harry thought Sirius overestimated him. He wasn't that noble—nearly killed by the basilisk's master, he knew better than to risk his life. "I'm not forgetting how I almost died. Why risk it?"
"Even if a friend's in danger?" Sirius asked.
Harry's eyes narrowed. "You'd tell me to abandon them?"
"Sorry, cheap shot. If that happens, go to your DADA teacher, McGonagall, or… Snape. They'll contact the Ministry. If they can't help, I'm here." Sirius handed Harry an old mirror. "This two-way mirror connects to mine. Call me in a pinch, and I'll come—Floo, Apparition, anything."
"Is that legal?" Harry asked.
"Emergency exception," Sirius said.
(Total lie), Harry thought. Sirius would break into Hogwarts or kill Dolohov for him, even if it meant Azkaban. Reliable but guilt-inducing. Harry hoped it wouldn't come to that, torn between gratitude and unease.
"I'm teaching you Conjuration, and Marida's teaching Runes basics, to keep you safe and healthy," Sirius said.
"Got it," Harry replied, sealing the promise.
"Now, my turn. Know anything about the Carrow boy? Blonde, buff, Hogwarts upperclassman?" Sirius asked.
"McGillus Carrow? Bit pretentious, bad at reading the room, but nice," Harry said, hedging.
McGillus was a supportive Slytherin prefect, fair even to outsiders like Harry. But he was a pure-blood supremacist, preaching its virtues to Muggle-borns—hardly a saint. To other houses, he was a nuisance, liked only by a few prefects. Harry hid McGillus's beliefs, knowing Sirius wouldn't approve.
"Nice to you?" Sirius asked.
"Yeah, to most Slytherin underclassmen. Friends with Banach-Tarski in Dueling Club," Harry said, emphasizing positives.
"Friends across houses? A Beater? Looked fit," Sirius said.
"No, he's bad on a broom," Harry replied. "Why ask?"
"Saw him at work," Sirius said casually, sipping coffee.
"…Doing something bad?" Harry asked, dreading the answer.
Sirius, an enforcer of dark artifact laws, dealt with lethal, illegal items. "Can't say much, but he was in a shady place. No direct crime or evidence… yet."
"Must be a mistake," Harry said quickly.
"He said he was McGillus Carrow," Sirius countered.
"Just curious, probably," Harry insisted, stomach tightening. (Maybe he had reasons, like me last term.)
McGillus teetered on legality's edge. Last term, his gleeful look as Harry broke Slytherin norms hinted at a dangerous shift. "Is he a pure-blood supremacist?" Sirius asked.
"No," Harry lied outright. "He just loves his house and underclassmen. Nothing else."
"Seemed like a naive rich kid," Sirius said, reassured by Harry's half-truths. He profiled McGillus based on Harry's account of his common room behavior and friends. Harry prayed McGillus wasn't guilty.
(I might not have the right to judge), Harry thought. He hid secrets from Sirius. Farkas's letters continued, including dark magic notes written in Runes:
"Grandpa hid them in Runes. Using Arithmancy, I derived spell control methods. You could manipulate Inferi or fiendfyre. Runes need decoding—help me, Harry?"
Farkas, done with homework, prepped electives like Harry. His theories could control Inferi or burn enemies. He mentioned Fina ghosting his Muggle-style letters. Harry, relieved yet disgusted by his relief, saw they were dipping into forbidden magic.
While decoding Runes and studying Arithmancy, Harry vowed, pen in hand:
"Decoded 70% of the Runes—details on Inferi range and fiendfyre counters. Let's keep it to mental practice."
To Farkas:
"We'll use this power only to protect others. We'll do it right. Our secret promise."
This vow, both a pledge and a curse, would haunt Harry and Farkas.
Harry and Farkas are honing dark magic skills but also studying Charms, Conjuration, and theory (summer limits them to theory). Harry's brewing a scar-hiding potion, legal without magic.
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