Paying the Piper

The voice sounded like a whisper, yet it was easily heard by him. The door separating them didn't dampen the sound in the slightest. George reached for the handle, which happened to be in the shape of a gryphon, and pushed the door open. It weightlessly swung open and revealed the magnificent interior of the headmaster's office.

The room was divided into three spherical halves separated by an archway and half a dozen steps. The third George walked into was surrounded by dark brown glass cabinets filled with all sorts of brass, silver and gold oddities. Above the cabinets was a series of living portrait paintings of presumably famous individuals such as former headmasters of Hogwarts, they were mostly haggard old men dressed in expensive-looking robes.

On George's left was a grand roaring fireplace with two statues of stone eagles on either side. The pleasant warmth struck him the moment the door had been opened. In front of him were three tables, two of which had similar shiny oddities to what could be seen in the cabinets. Considering this was a school, George thought there were relatively high odds of these being instruments of magical learning.

The last table had the one thing George could identify on display, it was a percussion mechanical solar system. Encased inside a large brass shell was a series of concentric golden rings continuously spinning at variable rates. Each one of the rings suspended a tiny model of a planet. In the centre was a miniature version of the sun shining bright, the little ball of light wasn't too dissimilar from his own solidified fire.

Although George dreaded it, he looked over towards the next third of the room. Instead of cabinets lining the walls, there were shelves packed with perfectly conditioned books, scrolls and parchments. There were two staircases on either side of the room which lead up to the last third which was an observatory that overlooked the entire castle. Besides the stairwells were six granite plinths adorned with metal spheres which continuously revolved.

There was also a large brass perch for a phoenix that was not present, Fawkes must have been busy ripping out serpents' eyes. George's attention wasn't stolen by anything other than the large beautifully carved desk in the centre of the room with Dumbledore seated behind it. Dumbledore was calmly seated in his large oak chair with his arms resting on the desk. He was patiently watching George observe the room with a twinkle in his eye.

Once Dumbledore noticed he had George's attention, he raised one hand and gestured for George to come over. George slowly ambled over to Dumbledore's desk with a mixture of artificial and real hesitation. There was a sense of magnetic negative attraction emanating from Dumbledore making every step harder to take. George stopped once he was a few feet from the desk and chose to remain silent.

Dumbledore adjusted his glasses, "I trust that Miss Farley accompanied you to my office."

George timidly nodded, "yes she did, professor."

Dumbledore's gentle smile grew minutely, "that's very good to hear. You must have left a good impression with her, Miss Farley has shown a great fondness for you. She volunteered to escort you here the moment the Slytherin Prefects were notified."

"Indeed, professor. Although, I'm not sure what I've done to deserve it", George said whilst scratching the back of his head with a slight blush.

There was a brief pause before Dumbledore got on to the main topic, "well, we aren't here to talk about Miss Farley now, are we? I assume that you are already aware of why you are here."

George averted his eyes from Dumbledore to look at the well-varnish floor, "it's because I'm the one who exploded the girl's bathroom, Professor. I am here to accept my punishment."

He heard Dumbledore's voice turn a little sullen, "indeed that is the case. I'm afraid incidents like these can't be overlooked. The practice of dangerous magical arts at Hogwarts is taken very seriously. Now, I have spoken with Mr Potter, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger to get their accounts of yesterday's accident and I, along with the other Professors, have concluded…"

George kept his head firmly tucked against his chest like a dog that had peed on the rug.

"Mr Linwood", Dumbledore said authoritatively.

George glanced back up through watery eyes.

Dumbledore spoke with a warm smile, "you have done a great service to the school and its students, both the professors and I wish to offer our deepest thanks. Our negligence allowed a troll to wander the corridors and put every student's life at risk. Miss Granger seemed convinced that if it hadn't been for your intervention, she would have most likely died. The fact you put yourself in harm's way to save another is the mark of a brave and noble wizard."

The big twist came, and George wasn't surprised in the slightest.

George acted flustered, "please professor, don't confuse impulsive logic as bravery. I was hardly thinking of the consequences of my actions before committing to them. The fact I almost killed myself with my magic should be more than enough proof of that."

One of Dumbledore's eyebrows raised, "that may be true, but I find that the decisions one makes under pressure reflect their true motivations. Stupidity and bravery can be confused for one another, but I find you are nothing short of the latter."

George allowed a subtle smile to form on his face.

Dumbledore continued, "that being said, it's undeniable that you exposed your fellow students to unacceptable danger when you fought against the troll. But do not worry, I know that your actions were not deliberate. By the sounds of it, you barely made it out by the skin of your teeth. Whilst we're on that topic, could you care to tell me if the magic you demonstrated in the Great Hall happened to be the same as what you used against the troll?"

"You would be correct yet again, professor. It is indeed the same magic", George confirmed.

All magic, if substantial enough, left traces. To someone who had personally felt George's solidified fire between his fingers, Dumbledore would have noticed the striking similarities straight away. The question would have been nothing more than a test to see how honest George was willing to be.

"Creating an explosion of that magnitude would have required much more than what you had demonstrated to me in September. May I know what had changed between then and now?", Dumbledore calmly inquired.

George nodded excitedly and enthusiastically explained, "it's been something of an obsession of mine since my first talk with Professor Flitwick. He encouraged me to push myself and test my limits, just like you did professor. So I kept practising that fire magic in my own time and I've been improving over the past two months."

George's enthusiasm began to trail off, "I didn't know what to do to defend myself against the troll, so I used the only spell I felt most comfortable with. I'm not sure exactly when it all went wrong, but I just remember feeling my connection to the fire disintegrating and I had to get out of there right away. If I had known how… devastating it could be then I would have never used that magic in the first place. I can't see myself ever wanting to use that magic ever again."

George thought that his harrowing story should serve as a good recap of yesterday's events without needing to bring up any unnecessary details. If there was one benefit of the explosion to be found, it would be the fact his and the troll's blood was vaporised. The evidence of his little near-death experience and the subsequent rage-filled fight would have been destroyed as well.

Dumbledore shook his head before saying, "it shouldn't be the responsibility of a student your age to worry about these issues. But alas, here we are. After what happened yesterday, it is with great sadness that I ask you not to practise this magic privately again until myself and the other professors feel you have obtained adequate mastery."

George acted disheartened, "but, professor. How can I master something without practising it?".

At that exact moment, George heard the headmaster's door open again. He turned around and saw McGonagall entering the room. She appeared to be out of breath, her face was red and her chest was quickly bobbing up and down. She looked briefly at George with a hint of concern before returning to her neutral and unreadable expression.

"What excellent timing. I was just about to explain to Mr Linwood here about the arrangements we have made to help him better control his gift", Dumbledore said while standing up to greet McGonagall.

McGonagall caught her breath and recomposed herself before walking over to Dumbledore. She passed George without sparing him a glance and spoke quietly into Dumbledore's ear. Within a few seconds, the two of them finished mumbling to each other and turned to face George.

McGonagall formed a gentle smile similar to Dumbledore's, "it's nice to see you have recovered Mr Linwood."

"It's all thanks to Madam Pomfrey. I intend to visit the hospital later this afternoon to share my gratitude with her", George humbly said whilst bowing his head.

There was a flinch in McGonagall's thin smile, "there's no need to trouble yourself. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey is already aware of your appreciation."

Dumbledore chipped back into the conversation, "Professor McGonagall is highly adept in the field of Transfiguration. Few in this world can rival her comprehension. We have agreed she would be the most appropriate tutor to guide you on your path to mastery."

"Tutor me? Does that mean I'll be receiving private lessons, professor?", George asked Dumbledore whilst stealing glances at McGonagall.

Dumbledore went on to say, "how very astute of you, that is indeed the case. Professor McGonagall has very kindly offered to dedicate one hour a week to help you better control your affinity for fire."

McGonagall continued from where Dumbledore left off, "I believe your next Transfiguration lesson is first thing on Monday morning. Would it be possible for you to come to my class one hour earlier?"

George took a minute to act indecisive before saying, "unequivocally, professor."

Then Dumbledore abruptly clapped his hands and declared, "excellent. Shall we conclude this meeting here?"

George's surprise was hard to suppress as he questioned whether he just heard Dumbledore correctly.

"But professor, what about my punishment? I destroyed Hogwarts' property and endangered the lives of students. Surely there should be some accountability", George enquired apprehensively.

Dumbledore smiled mysteriously, "the girl's bathroom has been restored and the injured students have been treated. It's as the saying goes, 'no harm, no foul'. Unless your motives weren't pure, I don't see how I could in good faith punish you."

George stared into Dumbledore's shimmering eyes whilst desperately trying to work out what was going through that man's head, but it was to no avail.

"Thank you professor for your understanding. I will strive to live up to your expectations", George said while bowing at Dumbledore.

Then he turned to McGonagall and bowed in her direction, "I'll thank you in advance professor for donating your valuable time to me. I will strive to make sure that I do not waste it."

"You may be excused Mr Linwood", Dumbledore said whilst gesturing towards the door.

George simply bowed one last time in Dumbledore and McGonagall's general direction before turning around to leave. He focused on maintaining a measured pace so he didn't leave the room faster than he had entered it. He did hear more faint mumbling behind him but that didn't cause him to hesitate to open the door and leave the headmaster's office.

Whilst George was walking away from the office, he thought about the next main complication he was encountering. His body was failing to function properly, even now he was struggling to walk without a limp. These mobility problems were not related to his injuries from the troll or the explosion. He'd finished recovering moments after leaving Madam Pomfrey's hospital yesterday.

As of this morning, his muscles were becoming brittle as any movement that used a modicum of strength resulted in them tearing. Even his bones creaked like they were about to snap. It was as if the strength his body was exerting was overwhelming his biological capabilities. Judging by his appearance, George should be strong for an eleven-year-old, but his physical output could only be matched by an adult athlete.

After George had transformed for the third time at the Shrieking Shack, he was accomplishing superhuman feats of physical exertion. He could lift several times his body weight and run one hundred yards in under ten seconds. He didn't so much as walk up the moving staircases anymore but instead bounded up them in a couple of strides.

George could see with hindsight that an eleven-year-old shouldn't be able to accomplish these feet without irreparable consequences. His constantly excelling prowess must have been pushing his body to the point of complete collapse which unfortunately happened during his fight with the troll. He predicted every transformation from now on would slowly make his human body less compatible with his real and much larger form.

There was only one solution George could think of which was to try and reduce the discrepancy, he needed to make his human form much stronger. Since he was already pushing himself to the point of blacking out during his exercise routine, he could only think of one way he could increase his performance further, artificially with magic.

If there were steroids in the muggle world then there had to be an even better equivalent in the Wizarding world. Since chemistry and potion mastery was one of the same, he had no other choice than to return to the Library. George arrived at the entrance of the Library and miserably looked at the tens of thousands of books on display.

A few hours later, George was currently sitting down in the potion section of the Library. He was surrounded by a mountain of books he deemed potentially relevant to improving one's body physically through potion administration. None of the other students who sat at the table could see him behind his paper fortress. Occasionally his hand would take one book off the top and replace it with another he had just finished.

There were thousands of potential books related to 'getting stronger' and most of them were very poorly named. 'Wimpy To Worthy; A Guide To Getting Your Ideal Physique' was the name of the first book that got George's hopes up but once he started reading it, he realised it was only about altering the body aesthetically without having any real improvements.

Another book called 'The Strength Of Champions And How You Can Obtain It' had an exceptional amount of promise from the first few pages, but George felt like setting the book on fire after realising that the referenced strength was only psychological. It was a book in the potion section and it didn't have a single potions recipe in it, what was the world coming to?

There was even a book called 'Herculean Power' and that didn't reference anything to do with getting stronger. The book was actually about maximising the stirring technique when brewing potion so you could avoid straining your wrists. Apparently, some mixtures can get very thick and gloopy. George wondered what was the point of the name of the book if it had no bearing on the content.

After a few hours of sieving through dozens of books, he did come across some potions with potential, but all of them had fatal flaws. The most common problem was most beneficial potions don't have permanent effects, they only offered temporary increases in strength and endurance. Even if he were to hypothetically drink enough of these potions to be constantly under their effects, George would eventually run into the problem where his body would develop a natural immunity just like the Calming Draught.

George closed yet another useless book and placed it to one side, the pain of sieving through endless pages of dribble from early September was coming back again. Even under the effect of the Calming Draught, George felt like he was losing his bearing on reality. He was never a born academic and recently his patients for this mind-numbing monotony was getting worse.

Perhaps it was for the best if George took a break to do something else like have a snack, he was starting to feel a little hungry and he had missed his breakfast. Just as George was sliding his chair back from under the desk, he heard a familiar pompous voice coming from his left.

"What are you doing here?", asked Hermione in a somewhat forceful manner.

George looked over to his left and saw Hermione standing there whilst hugging half a dozen books to her chest. She looked down at the mountain of books he had been trawling through with raised eyebrows.

"I'll give you three guesses. But don't get your hopes up, there are no prizes for winning", George said sarcastically whilst rising to his feet.

The sarcasm appeared to go right over Hermione's head as she took a few steps forward and inspected the pile of books.

She scanned the covers and quickly concluded, "you want to get stronger. Why would you want that?"

"Why are you suddenly curious about my reading habits?", George asked whilst avoiding the question.

Hermione looked back at George and pursed her lips, "I happen to be walking by and you caught my eye. It's not that implausible, is it?"

"Well that's the thing, it really isn't. So much so that I would argue you've seen me in the Library on an almost weekly basis. The question is, why now?", George inquired whilst taking a step towards her.

Hermione took a step back and appeared to be at a loss for words.

"I was being rhetorical, I know exactly why you're here. First of all, I want to say that what I did yesterday regarding the troll was irresponsible, stupid and above all, extremely dangerous. My actions should be condemned and not rewarded, and I certainly don't deserve gratification. So if you've come here to thank me then don't, you're wasting your breath on me", George explained matter-of-factly.

"My thoughts exactly", Hermione concurred.

George paused for a second to process her unexpected response, "excuse me, what did you just say?"

A cocky expression appeared on Hermione's face as she brushed her frizzy hair to one side, "it's like you said, you acted like an idiot. Isolating yourself as some act of heroism was a foolish idea and needlessly put yourself in danger. On top of that, whatever spell you used to kill that troll nearly got all of us blown up which would have rendered your moronic sacrifice pointless. It's a miracle that you weren't expelled from Hogwarts."

"Then, why did you decide to talk to me?", George said whilst subconsciously taking another step forward.

Hermione took another step back in turn and looked a little embarrassed, "well you weren't completely wrong. I have come to thank you, but not for the troll. You knew that I was upset and you came looking for me when no one else did. Oh, and the flowers. You were right, they did cheer me up. Even after all that mess you'd made."

A bout of realisation came into George's head all at once, the answer to why Hermione had decided to approach him became clear. The horrendous execution of the weapons test completely overshadowed the most important part of Halloween which was to garner a positive opinion from Hermione. Learning the main part of the plan had gone successfully did put a smile on George's face and this one wasn't fake.

"Which was your favourite?", George asked cheerfully.

Hermione's eyes went toward the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, "I think the roses were the best, the smell of dark chocolate was uncanny."

"Can't say I agree with you, I've never been a big fan of chocolate myself. I like the delphiniums, they reminded me of Bonfire Night ", George offered his opinion.

Hermione looked back at George suspiciously, "you really are a muggle-born."

George looked back at Hermione incredulously, "not you as well. Just because I'm in Slytherin doesn't mean I'm some backwards pureblood maniac with a weird obsession with snakes."

Hermione just tutted with a smirk in response leaving George at a loss for words. She took another glance at the pile of books behind George and frowned.

"Well anyway, you're going to be looking for an awfully long time before you find something as niche as indefinite strength training potions in this part of the Library. If I were you, I would go to the 'Sports and Recreational' section and have a look at the potions sub-category. There should be plenty of books related to potions that help with physical training for quidditch athletes. It's just a thought ", Hermione said nonchalantly before turning around and leaving the way she came.

George was left stunned after realising that her suggestion made a whole lot of sense. Why didn't he associate the potion he was looking for with relevant occupations and their accompanying literature? Where there's a sport, there are physically enhancing drugs. George found his motivation to read was reinvigorated, he no longer felt like taking a break. Instead, he was going to head straight over to the one place in the Library he'd never thought he would go, the sports section.