Harry Potter's revenge

A few minutes later, a tiny wooden spoon lay in front of her. She beamed and fought not to look to Harry for praise. She looked to Daphne instead. Another tiny wooden spoon, identical to hers, lay in front of the blonde witch. She caught Daphne's eye and got a courteous nod in return.

She pouted and looked around the classroom. Except for Harry and his Gryffindor brother, no one else was even close to the two of them. It was amazing to think that, in the second timeline, she'd still been at the top of the class, even without Harry's advanced occlumency training and while hanging around with… with…. She looked over at the red-headed boy next to Harry's brother, who gave his nail an unsuccessful, half-hearted poke and then complained about being bored…. With that.

…

As it was, this felt like child's play.

She let out a short breath through her nose. "Daphne," she started.

Daphne turned.

"Has our lord ever shown you that trick where he transfigures many different objects, builds something with them, and then times the magic to run out at the exact same time, leaving all the objects still standing?" Daphne looked between the two spoons on their respective desks. "Yes…"

"Do you think we could do it?" Daphne snorted. "Holding a transfiguration on 100g takes two milliflamels. These nails weight, what? Maybe 10g?"

"Well, okay, I know we won't get it exactly, but wouldn't it be interesting to try and get close? It's not as though we're doing any else useful at the moment."

Daphne looked around. "What would we use to measure the time? The tempus spell isn't exactly good for this, is it? And we don't have one of those hour glasses."

She paused. It was a good question. She thought for a few moments. "Iron can only hold a certain amount of magic, right?"

"Yes, one Merlin per 100g. We just did that in charms." "Right, so the longest time for a transfiguration on iron is?" The question hung in the air.

Daphne's eyes sharpened. The witch pulled her parchment towards her and scribbled on it for a few moments.

She glanced over at the parchment and saw arithmetic of the type Harry had practised with her years ago.

"Seven minutes, blonde announced.

twenty

seconds,"

the

"So we could use a piece of transfigured iron as our clock, and then practise on something else, something that can hold more magic. We could try to only pump in enough magic to match the iron's transfiguration time.

Daphne nodded slowly. "That sounds… like it would work." The pretty witch frowned. "But isn't waiting over seven minutes a bit long? Wouldn't it be better to use something with a lower maximum capacity?"

"…I guess."

"Miss Greengrass? Miss Granger?"

She looked up. The surprised form of professor McGonagall loomed over them.

"Did you both do these?" McGonagall picked up one of the tiny spoons.

"Yes, Professor," Daphne answered.

McGonagall put the spoon down and took a deep breath. "Very well done, the both of you. Two points to Slytherin each." She glanced down at them. "Please do slow down a bit though. I do want Gryffindor to have some chance at the cup this year."

The corner of her lips tugged upward. It wasn't Harry praise, but it was something.

"Professor?" Daphne interjected. "Could you tell us what the lowest capacity material known is?"

The professor's eyebrows raised. "Why do you want to know, Miss Greengrass?"

"We were thinking of practising precision in the amount of magic we use, but we don't have a measurement device."

McGonagall hesitated. "Oh. I see what you were thinking of doing. There's really no need for that. I'll lend you the hourglass, just let me get it." And with that, the professor left to fetch it. "Well, that's convenient," she said.

Daphne nodded.

Tracey landed between them. "You two are finally talking!"

Albus Dumbledore was led into a well appointed goblin office.

"Greetings, Clan Leader Goldtooth."

A large, well dressed goblin wearing a sword by his side, stood up from behind his equally large mahogany desk, and smiled a twenty-four carat smile. The Goldtooths were well named."

"Greetings, Chief Warlock. Please. Sit."

He did so. There were few formalities between those who spoke the underground warrior tongue.

"I assume you are here about the"—the goblin dropped his voice in a show of mock secrecy—"You-know-what in vault 713?"

He smiled. "Indeed. I hope there haven't been any problems?"

Goldtooth grinned again. "None what so ever. A few goblins expressed an interest, but as soon as they learned that the immortal alchemist had provided his own special brand of defence, they didn't even bother to enquire further. And it's not as though Gringotts needs another one."

"Good good." It had taken a lot of work to persuade Nicholas to entrust him his most prized possession. But even then, his mentor and teacher had insisted on adding his own final defence.

The goblin shuffled a stack of papers. "I'm surprised you are picking it up this late."

"Yes, we had to upgrade security. I decided the previous plans were not fit for purpose."

The goblin fidgeted. "You know I've said before that Gringotts security is more than sufficient for holding items like this?"

His eyes twinkled. "Ah, yes, but not for the type of purpose I have in mind, Clan Leader."

Goldtooth sighed. "Very well, Chief Warlock, you know your own business best, I'm sure."

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