Summary: Ah yes, bored Harry is going to take over the world. But first, movies!

Chapter 8: Runes

Harry was bored.

Again.

Things had gotten better for a while. The introduction of Quidditch to his schedule had helped a lot. Not only did practices take up time, but so did actually interacting with his teammates. Katie was even becoming an actual friend! Despite being in different years, they'd bonded over being the two new players to the team this year. Not to mention that the slightly older girl had a vibrant, snarky personality that Harry enjoyed.

The fact that Katie's year was just as small as Harry's, having all been born at the height of the Blood War, also helped. There was only a single other Gryffindor girl in Katie's year, and the two didn't get along all that well. Before Harry, Katie had hung out almost exclusively with Angelina and Alicia. Who weren't on the same schedule as her. In fact, since the two were now third years, they now had electives that made that even more true. It was, however, good for Harry. He was free at a lot of the times that the other two chasers were not, which had resulted in Katie cheerfully inviting herself to hang out with him. The fact that Harry was honestly ahead of Katie in magical theory, despite the year gap, only made it easier, since they could do homework together without any issues.

That, plus the excitement around Halloween, had broken up Harry's boredom and social isolation. The following couple of weeks had been fine, too. The news that Quirrell had fled the school and he himself had defeated a fully grown mountain troll, had made the following few days interesting. And the rotating members of staff temporarily filling in as Defense instructors had been a nice change of pace as well. Harry was far less versed on dark creatures and household pests than he was on dueling magic, leaving many of the first year Defense classes actually informative now, instead of the half-assed nightmare they'd been under Quirrell.

Unfortunately, it was now nearing the end of November, and the various distractions and new experiences were starting to become routine or irrelevant. Gryffindor had thoroughly flattened Slytherin in their first Quidditch game, Harry having advanced so far in Seeker tactics that he could break up the occasional opposing play, while still performing just fine as a Seeker. He easily accredited that fact to a combination of naturally good situational awareness and flying talent…and secretly having the best possible training aid in Pandora. He had specifically not gotten any aid from her during the actual match, feeling that doing so would definitely be cheating. But they'd worked together liberally during practice to refine Harry's awareness and precision to a level far beyond what any first year really ought to be capable of.

The result, unfortunately, was that Quidditch practice was becoming rather rote for Harry. Drills, physical conditioning, and a bit of practice with the chasers. That was about all he could do, since the team wasn't big enough to actively run an opposing side to practice against. Nor did they have someone else that was a good enough Seeker for him to really practice against. This left him mostly unable to advance farther outside of actual games, even if he still loved the flight time it gave him.

The same issue was true for the Defense classes, though thankfully to a lesser extent. Harry had read right through not only the textbook, but several of the various professors' preferred reference works, and now had a solid handle on the creature portion of the year's material. Though in-class demonstrations were still useful, as virtually all of the temporary rotation of teachers were willing to bring in or conjure the minor monsters that were most of the year's bread and butter. Combined with Flitwick and McGonagall continuing to give him a bit of extra work for their classes, Harry wasn't going insane yet. But…

He was still bored.

And today he was planning to do something about it. Hopefully.

Which is why he was knocking on Professor Bathsheda Babbling's office door.

The door swung open a few seconds after this polite three raps, with a call of 'Come in' coming from inside. He stepped through into the office…but didn't see the Professor at her desk. Blinking, he swept the room and noted a side-room. Tentatively stepping forward so he could see into it, he spotted her the moment he did. The side room was fairly large, and more of a lab style space than a simple room, he realized quickly. There were bookshelves of reference work, stands of enchanted items, chalkboards with various runic schematica on every wall, and a pair of sand-tables like those used to mockup runes before carving. It was at those last that the professor was standing, concentrating on something she was drawing in the sand. Curious as he was, Harry refrained from saying anything, letting her finish whatever she was working on.

A minute or two passed, before she turned to him.

"Sorry about—," the professor paused as she spotted him, blinking in confusion. "Mr. Potter? What are you doing here? Is there some problem?"

Harry shook his head, giving her his best, most charming lopsided smile.

"Not unless you count boredom as a problem, professor. I know it's probably a bit unusual for a first year to come find you during office hours, but I do have a bit of a conundrum, if not an actual problem. Can you spare a few minutes?"

The professor's expression was blatantly curious as she nodded and waved him to her desk. She took a seat behind it even as he sat in the surprisingly comfy charge opposite her.

"So long as whatever it is doesn't prove a waste of my time, Mr. Potter. I don't mind. I trust it isn't?"

Harry shrugged a bit uncomfortably. He'd only been able to find a little bit out about her, since only Alicia had her as a teacher among his older friends.

"I don't think so? But, I suppose that's up to interpretation, isn't it?"

Thankfully, the professor seemed to find his response amusing, from the way her lips twitched. She nodded and gestured for him to go on.

"Well, to get right to the point, my conundrum is that I'm extremely interested in enchanting. To the point that I've actually already learned the three common runic languages used in European runes…and most of two others besides." He paused to let that sink in, noting that the professor straightened with obvious interest. A good sign. "I'd done that before I even came to Hogwarts, what with it being one of the few bits of magic I could study in depth without a wand. But that leaves me with the conundrum. I'm at the point where I've got both the arithmancy and runes down to start working with projects, but I'm not nearly insane enough to try carving them without someone to guide me through the startup process."

Babbling's eyebrows had risen high at this point. They flattened as she leaned forward with a serious look on her face.

"The fact that someone warned you and you took it seriously is a good sign for your interest, Mr. Potter. I assume, from your comment, that you are aware of why it's a bad idea to just start carving willy-nilly, no matter how well you know the runes? Or even the theory of how to use runic arrays?"

Harry sighed, letting the frustration both he and Pandora had about the topic show on his face.

"Yes, professor. My grandmother was an enchanter and I have her notes."

He did actually have those, the notebooks having been recovered from Godric's Hollow and stored in his parents' vault. But they were too advanced to actually talk about the issue he was having. They'd serve as an excuse, either way. Even if his knowledge of the issue was actually via Pandora's archive of knowledge.

"She made it very clear that the first alignment of your magic to work with runes was…finicky. And dangerous. That even those with exceptional magical control would be ill-advised to attempt it without a Master's magic guiding theirs. That trying it without the guide was a good way to not just potentially get yourself killed…but also to potentially ruin any chance of you using the language in question for runes."

The Professor say back again, expression neutral but considering.

"A comprehensive answer. And not just a word for word quote either, I think. Meaning you do understand the issue. At least enough for me to take seriously. Yes, Mr. Potter. Those wanting to actually use runic script, rather than just decipher it, all need to have a Master guide their first alignment to any language. It's a transference of the Master's understanding of the underlying principles from their magic to yours. An imprint that gives your magic the guidelines for what each rune is suppose to do."

Harry nodded, fully understanding the problem. Pandora had gone over it with him over and over for years. Runes, by themselves, were nothing more than a language. They held no more power than any other language did. They weren't useful for anything but translating old books or carvings, in and of themselves. What gave them power was, as was the case for virtually all magic, intent. Only in this case, it was imprinted intent. The original runes had been formed in ancient days as single sigils by individual mages, who had used a specific pattern over and over and over and over, until their very magic 'imprinted' with the pattern.

After that, when they'd drawn the pattern and infused their thus imprinted magic into it, their magic had known what they wanted it to do…even once the magi had stopped focusing on it. Once someone had figured out how to make a rune whose whole purpose was to draw in ambient magic and feed that to other runes, the first truly 'permanent' magics had been born. It was completely possible to make long-lasting enchantments, or even short-term wards, by simply putting enough power into a spell. But without a rune to anchor the concept of the spell, such an enchantment would fade sooner or later. Only with the jumpstart of a rune, properly infused by someone with the right 'imprint,' would a bit of magic keep going essentially forever. Or, at least, until it was overwhelmed, dispelled, or the anchoring rune in question destroyed.

The problem, of course, Harry's problem, was that it took years to create a single personal rune. Witches and Wizards had eventually overcome this problem by figuring out how to transfer 'imprints' from one person's magic to another. They'd chosen existing ideographic languages, such as futhark, and began working together to create 'imprints' of concepts that were universal. They'd then shared their work on single runic letters with each other, systematically creating a collective 'imprint' of an entire language. An imprint that could be shared via a transference ritual, to give a new apprentice (or student in the case of NEWT level Hogwarts work) a basic language of concepts to work from. Without the apprentice needing to spend literal years on each individual rune. Without the transference ritual that gave your magic those 'imprints' to work with, runes were so many useless scribbles.

This was something Harry fully understood the implications of. Something which he proved over the next twenty minutes as the professor quizzed him on the subject. Quizzing which rapidly expanded to include his understanding of the languages he knew as well. When she was finally satisfied, she leaned back in her chair with a conflicted expression.

"Well, Mr. Potter, I see what you meant. You do have a conundrum. And, unfortunately, so now do I."

Babblings fingers tapped an erratic pattern on the arm of her chair as she thought, expression shifting repeatedly as she did.

"I refuse to let someone with the amount of understanding and talent you're showing simply go untaught. Yet, if you're as far along in your language comprehension as I think you are, I suspect you've already covered the entirety of the material I cover through OWLs. OWL level runes is intended to teach comprehension. Actually using them for magic isn't started until NEWT level. With only serious students, usually no more than two dozen or so these days, being accepted into the NEWT program. Some of whom then spend most of a year gaining the magical control necessary to make the transfer ritual safe."

She pinned him with a sharp frown.

"You might have worked hard to get the knowledge you have, but the control is still an issue. Normally, less than a dozen students manage it. And you're still barely past the initial magical stabilization period. I know some of the other professors have remarked on the oddity of your ability to silently cast as a first year. But the chances that you have enough control…"

Harry held up a hand, rather rudely interrupting. But it was time to play one of his trump cards. He'd known this would be an issue coming into the discussion, if she even entertained him this far. But his magic was…different. He wasn't about to explain they 'why' of that to her. Pandora's existence was something he had no intention of revealing for a long, long time. But for simple proof of control, he had plenty of options.

"Professor. If I show you something that will convince you I might have the control required, will you keep it a secret? Given who I am, it might save my life someday, so I'd really rather it not get around."

And that was completely true. But it was a far smaller secret than Pandora. One that would be potentially problematic if it got out, but which he had never intended to hide forever. It would suck if it was revealed this soon. But it wouldn't be crippling.

The professor's eyes had narrowed, her expression nearly a glare as she frowned at him. Clearly, she wasn't at all used to a thirteen-year-old being so…presumptuous. Still, there was clear curiosity in her eyes as well. Finally, after leaving him hanging for nearly a minute, she answered.

"So long as it won't hurt you or others, I will not share whatever you show me. Rune Masters certainly understand the need for secrets."

Harry nodded, drew his wand, then put it on her desk. Out of his reach. The confusion in her face at the action was extremely amusing, but Harry didn't let it distract him. Instead, he raised one hand, pointed a finger at a quill on her desk…and reached out to wandlessly levitate it. Her expression of confusion turned rapidly to shock as she looked from the levitating quill to his wand and back.

"I'm sure you're aware, professor, that wandless magic requires two things. Power…and control. Lots of control. And the more delicate the thing you're doing is, the more it is the control, not power, that matters."

Slowly, Professor Babblings expression of utter disbelief morphed into unbridled curiosity. Her wand came out and Harry carefully didn't let himself waver as she ran it before her eyes, murmuring what he expected was a magic-sight spell. She stared from the floating quill to Harry, then to his wand, doubtlessly confirming that he wasn't using it or any other wand on the quill. Shaking her head, some of the disbelief returned as she canceled her own spell.

"Okay, Mr. Potter. I can't believe I'm saying this…but I think it's time we test you on your magical control. As well as get you a practice OWL exam for Ancient Runes. You might just be the youngest student, or perhaps apprentice, that I've ever even considered taking on…"

...

Albus Dumbledore had concerns.

This was not a new thing. Indeed, given his many roles, having concerns was a depressingly normal state of affairs. It was a rare day indeed, when he felt he could get away with having no concerns, even for an hour, let alone the entire day. Concerns about laws, politicians, or students. Concerns about the castle, dark lords, or reporters. Albus Dumbledore was used to having concerns.

He admitted, however, that his newest concern that more concerning than usual. He stared at the results of a mock OWL exam and a bevvy of magical control tests with a puzzled frown, stroking his beard in some unholy mixed of concern, bemusement, and utter confusion. Harry Potter had already been an outlier, even before an equally confused but rather excited Bathsheda had brought him the results he was now puzzling over.

He'd been happy to see Harry arrive looking so well and well taken care of as he had. Given the repeated complete failure of the Blood Wards around Privet Drive, Albus had been extremely worried about his safety there. Not just from outward sources, but also from his own family. Worried enough, in fact, that he'd had more than just Arabella Figg assigned to keep an eye on him. Others, such as Alastor, had not spent very much time looking in on Harry. But they had spent enough time to make sure that nothing too horrible was happening to the young lad. There had certainly been signs of Harry and his relatives not being very friendly to each other. But, thankfully, they had seemed more stand-offish than actively antagonistic to each other. Not ideal, but actually somewhat better than he'd feared even before the Blood Wards repeatedly failed.

With the additional checks on him, Albus hadn't been overly surprised that Harry had arrived more healthy and happy than a worst-case scenario. And, indeed, he had been quite pleased. Initially, at least. It wasn't until Harry had been brought up, repeatedly, by his staff, that Albus had felt any alarm. Even then, it had been odd that the boy had been able to non-verbally cast right from the start, but both of his parents had been brilliant with magic. And Albus himself was sensitive enough to magic to feel just how ridiculously strong Harry was for his age. He easily felt more like a seventh year than a first…and that actually might be underselling things a bit.

That level of power, combined with his poorly-hidden ability to cast wandlessly, had gotten Albus's attention. The longer he'd looked at the matter, however, the less concerned he'd become. The boy was fantastically talented, yes. But not unnaturally so. Careful observation had reveled that the lad spent hours upon hours working hard on the spells he knew, visibly getting better with them as he practiced them relentlessly. But he hadn't shown a single spell beyond the simpler second year material until after his duel with young Mister Malfoy. And even then, it was only the spells that Filius or Minerva had shown him or recommended he study. The most powerful of which had been the banisher spell that Harry clearly had a natural affinity for, given his use of a crude version of the spell to end the aforementioned duel.

Albus had almost relaxed completely when the incident with the troll happened. And, truth be told, that incident had only very briefly raised new concerns. Harry had used nothing more potent than the banisher spell, simply overpowering it to a great degree. And he'd suffered the side effects of using such powerful magic without building up to it, proving that he hadn't been secretly doing such things where Albus wasn't watching. The Troll's death had been unfortunate…but accidental. And Albus had found most of his attention from the incident focused on Quirrell. Who had fled after being confronted by Severus, showing far more competence as a duelist than anyone had expected. The fact that the wards were still picking up indications the ex-professor might not have left entirely was, in fact, still one of the concerns that Albus had.

None of that, however, changed the results of the odd report Professor Babbling had handed him. Nor the even more unbelievable request. In some ways, it…fit. The advanced magical control, not quite up to snuff for the runic transference ritual but remarkably close, actually made sense of Harry's ability to cast silently. It also matched with Lily's own magical expertise. Which, given that young Mr. Potter acted a great deal more like Lily than he did James...

Well, suffice it to say that natural talent at magical control would make sense. It was more than a bit odd in a powerhouse, but it fit what he was seeing…almost. The truly baffling issue was actually the practice OWL, which had shown a genuinely perfect score in runes. In fact, it was a bit more than perfect, with Harry having gone farther than needed with many of the translations. The boy could likely sit his OWL tomorrow and pass it with an O. Which didn't fit with Harry having been kept ignorant of his place in the magical world. Come to that, many other things didn't fit with that supposed lack either. He'd shown entirely too much general knowledge of magic. And hadn't needed to be taken to Diagon Alley. Albus had half-expected he would need that help, but had dismissed it when he didn't. Petunia had been to the Alley before, with her sister, and could theoretically have taken Harry there.

He supposed that actually could be the answer to the puzzle. If Petunia had given him the knowledge early, and he'd made trips to the alley to buy books…it could still all fit. But how had he not heard of Harry Potter turning up in the Alley? That surely would have caused a stir. The day he'd appeared there to get his school things certainly had, even if it was surprising that he'd managed to ultimately give the crowd the slip…

Albus had concerns. But those concerns were not justification to hold Mr. Potter's talents back. He would need to keep a closer eye on him, to see if he could determine if there was some sort of outside influence on the boy. Bu, for now…he signed the paper giving approval for Bathsheda Babbling to take Mr. Potter as a personal student with a sigh.

At least Tom had never really been any good with runes. And actually rather crude with his magical control. So this wasn't a truly worst case scenario…

...

A/N: There is more to this story on my Patreon Page, though only another 5k words or so currently. This isn't currently one of my Primary Stories, and as such will generally only receive updates when it wins the monthly poll for voters there. It...hasn't managed to do that yet. That said, it's been long enough that I'm going to be trying to sneak an update in for it soon one way or another, even if it's only a small one...