After showering platonic with his brothers from other mothers, Harry split from them; Ron went to pass out, and Neville said he would pick up his studies. With that, Harry took his still rather fresh body out around the grounds, walking through them before was as usual, but now his eyes could see more. His keen senses are sharp enough to pick up on scenes or even trinkets he would have previously missed. Such a sight was a few devil root trimmings from off one of the many bridges; he had to climb some to reach it, looking a bit weird to a few others. But it seemed some students noticed what he was doing; one senior Hufflepuff even stepped forward to help, creating platforms for Harry to use.
With these platforms, it was much easier to grab a few trimmings. Once he had them in his palm, he back-flipped off the magical landing, twirling through the air to dissipate his momentum as he came down. Standing before the senior, his sharp senses took in their appearance, brown hair that looked only maintained with fingers. Sharp brown eyes, handsome, sharp features, Harry knew who it was immediately because of how sharp his senses were, but he still offered his free hand in greeting.
''Harry Potter, thank you for the assistance. Did you want a few seeds once I get them?''
''Cedric Diggory, good to finally meet you in person, Harry, and no, I only helped you because I was reminded of my own past. Scouring every corner of Hogwarts for extra ingredients, anything that would help me get a little head start in the first few years." Cedric chuckled softly as they shared a firm handshake. Once Harry learned the new acquaintance wanted no seeds, he put them away in one of the many pockets of his bag.
'Oh storage artifacts… How I miss thee!~'
"Though if you ever come across a wild-grown Snargaluff plant, please let me know, alright? I'd be happy with even just a few trimmings for my projects." With that, the usually silent student moved on, already talking more than he was known for; the hint of red blooming on his cheeks made Harry hum.
While he wasn't exactly some random cultivator in the memories, he was never 'popular' because of something; he hadn't even faced Voldemort yet, and he was already famous. He could only picture how bad it would get in the following years; the underground area alone was a whole thing he'd have to look into at some point. Heading to the library, he checked out a few herbology books until he found one with a picture of a Snargaluff pod and a description so he could identify it whenever he was traveling. Be sure to fan through the other books to save files for later review.
~"A Snargaluff is a magical plant with the appearance of a gnarled stump, but be wary, it has dangerous, hidden thorn-covered vines that will attack when provoked! This plant is best handled by two wizards, one to hold the vines at bay, the other to harvest the glowing green, softly pulsating pod! If you're moving the plant, be sure to dig up a lot of soil around the roots first, and save it for the pot you move it into."~
The picture showed an old stump, covered in moss and a bit of moisture, with a few bulbs hidden, seeming to pulse with an eerie green light. Red thorn whips seemed to move slowly with the wind, but Harry noticed a faint heartbeat in the vines, was that just the moving picture, or the plant? With much more herbology information stuffed inside his head for meditation reading, he took a quick peek at the spell books for higher years available to him right now. Madam Pince gave him a rather sharp look when he picked them out, but when he just flipped through them like a picture book, it seemed to calm her.
'No way he just casually read made it so he could remember all that just yet… Though that pesky Greengrass...' She thought to herself, which was true, of course, but not for the reason she would believe. Harry could choose to cast these magics ahead of his year, and might do so in private, but until he could master the casting and use of the first-year spells, he wouldn't push. The cultivator's mind so far was his clearest cheat; this would save him many hours of studying since he wouldn't need to 'carry' anything with him. As long as he scans it, he can review it in his mind using techniques that make it easier to memorize information anyway, currently with the memories he has…
He found no clear way to make magic follow the same principles as martial arts. While he sensed a link between cultivation and magic, he'd have to focus on strengthening himself. At least until he unlocked the next series of memories, while he was fine with teaching future lovers how to do what he could, even some trusted close friends, family. He would use the magic version for security detail, and for the personal team he would eventually have, since even now he had too much he wanted to do himself. With such thoughts placed to the back burners for now, after he finished flipping through the spell books, he put them away. Being sure to take care of books as he would as a cultivator, while he was sure the Madam wouldn't evaporate him from his reality with a flick of her wrist.
He had no plans to get on her bad side, given how often he would be sneaking into the forbidden section in the future. Best to get on her good side now, so that maybe he won't need to sneak in, or, if she catches him when he does, she will let him off with a 'light scolding'.
As he was walking the halls, he would occasionally hear a few heated whispers, mostly shared between couples, sneaky links, or just people muttering beneath their breath. It wasn't often he would hear a comment aimed towards him; he knew because of his cultivation, he'd be damned to hear many things others didn't want him to, but…
'I'd love to strip those robes away and lick every inch of you down, Lord Potter.'
The problem isn't because he was embarrassed or anything, but the voice that was said by Daphne Greengrass' voice trickles faintly near the voice, but it wasn't hers, but a friend of the Ice Princess. Pansy Parkinson was glaring daggers at him from across the great hall, where the center hall fountain was, leaning to sit against it using a spell to keep water from splashing up on her and her small group. Daphne was standing to the right, speaking down to a heavier-set woman with a look of fire in her usual icy gaze. His look over caused Pansy's eyes to focus on him, like a predator homing in, before they widened slightly as he turned to walk towards them. Harry ignored the beautifully carved, ornate fountain of multiple denizens of the magical world.
None of the group was as good at keeping their emotions in check as Daphne, so he could understand the situation at a glance as he walked up.
'Approaching now would be the death of your house.'
''My Lady." Harry kept his voice low as he bowed a bit from the group, angling his feet so it was clear who he bowed to. He could notice the anger lingering in Daphne's tone; it seemed something truly dire had happened, so he was bold enough to meet her gaze while she spoke from the side of her.
"I don't have time for a talk right now, Lord Potter. Bulstrode here was just telling me about how she found hints of a love potion in her sweets, but instead of speaking up, decided to hunt down the culprit herself."
"I'm sorry, My Lady, it's just that with work, your rese-.''
''What would have happened if you fell under an effect? A weak love potion is still quite strong, and a badly made one is considered a lethal poison in most fields. Not to talk about what could happen if they got one of my own personal frie---.''
Harry lifted to stand a bit straighter, coming to stand next to Daphne, seeing how the pale-skinned woman being scolded began to shrink. Harry took a knee before her, surprising a few around them, but Daphne's gaze seemed to soften a bit, seeing as it helped make Millicent blush softly. Distracted by the rather confident, easy smile of Harry, who held his hand up to her, unable to form words, she took his. Her fingers were a bit thicker than his, making her momentarily hesitant, but his were firm. Keeping her from a darker line of thought as he pulled her hand, making her focus once more on his emerald green eyes to catch her in the spell.
With a tight hold on her hand and the ability to hold her gaze, when Harry spoke next, his voice was lowered, like a shared secret between them. The others were only blessed to hear.
''It doesn't take a potion to make you beautiful, Frostie here is only upset because it was most likely a ploy to get closer to her, or others in your group." When his words struck home, he didn't stop; his gaze shifted to a bruise on her wrist, and Harry stood to pull their joined hands apart. Thankfully, he was still wearing only his pants and shirt from earlier. He didn't have guns to show off yet, but he was quite toned, so each movement carried a sense of stability.
"Someone in our year?" His words were met with a very cold, sharp tone from Daphne, which meant a lot.
"Draco Malfoy and his group." It spoke of two things: an inner house, which was easier to solve, thankfully, but the second problem was simply the houses they represented. While Daphne was sure that if she ever asked, her Father would spit in Lord Malfoy's face for fun, and just the pleasure of doing it. But doing so would cause a massive rift to form between the families that would affect more than a few silly school years, so she could do nothing but try and sharpen her friends' minds against such things in the future…
Harry, however, the Boy Who Lived, Orphaned Potter, extraordinary with funds to burn, friendships to make, and motivation in his bones? Deciding that was all he needed to hear to finally make up his mind about something, he gave one final bow to them before turning to the hall full of people. Stepping up onto the fountain side, he opened his arms, being able to raise his voice easily enough, praying that Malfoy would be around to hear his declaration. But just in case…? He uses his wand to silently cast Sonorus, a voice-amplifying charm, easy to cast because it mimics the whispering-broadcast technique.
"I have ten slots for a make-shift band of seniors to help me strong-arm Draco Malfoy, scared of his father? Old git won't make it past the gates before he meets the headmaster, and all it takes is one name to take all the heat off yours! Harry Potter! 100 galleons to anyone brave enough to stand behind me, all you have to do is look tough, maybe crack a few knuckles!'' Immediately, he was met with a few stepping forward, with money, with the want to put it to Malfoy, or with Daphne's determined hand tugging at his shirt, that hidden fire in her gaze again.
'The Greengrass can't piss off the Malfoys… but a Potter? They have no reason not to want to piss off an old Dark family.'
"I want in, no money needed… No, I'll even pay to be there."
Harry chuckled softly as eight boys stepped forward, two on Slytherin, one Ravenclaw, two Hufflepuff, three Gryffindor, with the last two 'spots' being taken by Daphne and Pansy, who were looking at him like a treat. It didn't take long marching around with his little group to find the Heir of Malfoy out on the fields, Hagrid's hut in the background with a column of smoke. He was with his usual flankies and two others, throwing rocks at more of the helpful fairies that surrounded Hogwarts.
"Their hurting fa-...." Daphne began, only for Harry to burst forward, pushing his body to its limit, a mixture of Qi and Mana fueling his sprint across the field. Daphne's brows momentarily raised at the sudden speed, only for the entire field to echo out with a roar that could only be classified as pure rage.
"DRACO MALFOY, I HOPE YOUR FATHER BEAT YOU ENOUGH TO PREPARE YOU FOR THIS!''
Memories mingled with his own: his Mother telling him of the helpful fairies who help them in everyday life, and Lily's voice gently whispering in his ear. 'It's alright, Harry, see? She just wants to say hello, she takes care of the lilies on your window, so be kind to her~'. Only for the memories of a cultivator to come of a similar fairy that helped in Alchemy, one that had lasted him a long time, but was tinged with sorrow.
Not needing to know the rest of the memories to know why.
He had a reason to care for the well-being of the sparkle engines.
''BECAUSE THIS WILL BE THE START OF A TRADITION, SO START ACCOUNTING FOR YOUR WRONGS NOW, FOR I WON'T STOP! NOT UNTIL YOU'VE CONFESSED--'' A pause meant to be deliberate, measured to show just how fucked the brat-boy was.
"AND BEGGED IN THE SAME BREATH!"
(A/N) If you see a point I can improve, let me know. If you have any questions about terms or items, comment, and I'll answer as soon as I can!
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Harry Potter: Limitless 4 Chapters ahead!