The morning after his nighttime venture into the Forbidden Forest, Harry awoke feeling a little stiff but energized. The events with the unicorn and his unexpected conversation with Flakes still echoed in his mind. But he had more immediate concerns—today was the first tutoring session with the students who had agreed to learn under him.
The unused classroom on the second floor had been cleaned the day before by Hermione and Neville under Harry's direction. The room was simple: a few rows of desks, a large blackboard, and a wide table stacked with spare parchment, quills, and a few borrowed textbooks. Seven students filtered in—curious, a bit nervous, but determined.
Harry stood at the front, arms crossed, calm and confident.
"Welcome. I won't waste time with long introductions. You're here to learn what you aren't taught properly in class. And I'm here because I hate wasting my time. So we respect each other's time."
He handed out parchments with diagrams of basic magical circuits and theory, elements not taught until third year.
"Magic isn't just words and wand-waving," Harry said. "It's intent, emotion, control. If your spell fizzles, it's not always your pronunciation. Sometimes, it's you."
He demonstrated the Lumos spell, then varied its brightness using intent. One by one, the students followed, and to their astonishment, several managed better results than usual.
Hermione took notes furiously. Even she had to admit—Harry explained things far more clearly than some professors.
Neville asked a question about magical feedback and how potions ingredients reacted differently under certain emotional states.
Harry smiled. "Good question. That's why angry people make terrible potion makers. Calm mind, calm hand. Remember that."
By the end of the hour, the atmosphere had shifted. The students had gone from skeptical to impressed.
Harry closed the lesson with a small assignment: "You each get one theory to research and present next week. If you want to get your Galleon's worth, earn it."
Later that evening, Harry was summoned to Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster's note was simple: A quick chat. Come alone.
The spiral staircase admitted him silently, and the door to the office opened without a sound.
Dumbledore sat behind his grand desk, Fawkes perched beside him, watching Harry intently. The old wizard gestured to the seat in front.
"Lemon drop?"
"No, thank you, sir," Harry replied as he sat.
"You've been quite active lately, Harry. Private lessons, nocturnal strolls, curious friendships. And of course... unicorns."
Harry didn't flinch. "They needed help. I helped."
"Indeed you did," Dumbledore said softly. "There are some who would have hesitated in fear. You did not. That matters."
There was a pause before the Headmaster continued. "Magic always responds to intention. It is both weapon and healer, jailer and liberator. Your choices will shape not just how you use it, but what it becomes to you."
Harry nodded slowly. "I understand."
"Good. I simply wanted to let you know I'm watching with interest. Not to control you, but to ensure you are not alone."
Fawkes gave a gentle trill, and Harry felt a warmth settle in his chest. He nodded respectfully to both the Headmaster and his phoenix companion.
"Thank you, sir."
As he left the office and descended the stairs, Harry couldn't help but smile slightly. His circle of influence was growing, his powers deepening, and for now, he had the time to shape it all just the way he wanted.