13 CH13 - Demiguise Cloak

The month of September and October went by quickly, with the leaves turning brown and falling all over the Hogwarts grounds. As more time went by without another incident with the dementors, apprehension within the student population decreased, and carefree attitudes prevailed. For those more sensitive to the dementors, however, the chill within their hearts never fully melted.

Despite Dumbledore's best attempts at lobbying within the Wizengamot, it seemed he could not unify the Light to pass a bill outlawing the presence of the dark creatures at Hogwarts. Although they had a majority in the house, there were several Light members afraid enough of Black to vote against their peers. And so, things were at a political impasse.

Within the school, Edmund had garnered a bit of a reputation for himself. Contrary to past years' trends, it was a Hufflepuff topping the year's standings. Singlehandedly, Edmund had all but guaranteed the House Cup to be tied between two houses. In fact, the only reason any other house was even in the running was that Gryffindor also had its own academic juggernaut in the form of Hermione Granger.

Rather than this creating any friction between the two, an unspoken camaraderie had formed between the duo. Hermione was far too smug seeing yet another muggle-born beating out the purebloods in their own game to be upset about any perceived sense of competition.

However, while Hermione was known for being as straight-laced as they came, Edmund's constant presence in detention made it clear they were very different people indeed.

Three times so far Edmund had been caught by McGonagall camping outside the library doors in the middle of the night. The last time she had found him trying to dismantle the protections, McGonagall had dragged Edmund away by his ears, unfazed by his whines. All the while, her co-patroller and Edmund's own head of house Professor Sprout had watched on with a wry smile.

McGonagall had no idea that Edmund had access to all the books he could desire in the Room of Requirement. Nor did she know that he had one of the greatest wizarding minds only a thought away, available to address any of his doubts.

Breaking into the library served as an easy way to test Edmund's progression with wardbreaking without any serious consequences. The protections laid on the room were highly intricate, but the traps he could activate would at most stun or immobilize him. It was a good tradeoff for Edmund, to say the least.

Needless to say, McGonagall was not impressed with his initiative, becoming more and more exasperated with his blatant flaunting of the rules. Despite that, though, the stern professor kept assigning him detentions only with her, which both she and he knew were a punishment in name only.

The elderly woman had developed a soft spot for him, and Edmund couldn't lie that the old tabby was worming her way into his heart as well.

*-*-*-*

- (Scene Break) -

*-*-*-*

One after another, light red spells shot towards the location of a young boy, as he weaved and danced around them, narrowly avoiding them by paying attention to their trajectories. He was not flawless at this, evidenced by the multitude of yellowish-purple welts forming on his shirtless body. Between his dodges, the boy would use a thin wooden stick held lightly in his fingers to fire spells of his own, muttering inaudibly under his breath. His targets, ever moving behind barriers and one another, were sometimes hit or missed entirely.

A blaring alarm rang out, and with it, spells ceased being fired, and the targets stopped moving. The boy bent over double, heaving and gasping in an effort to catch his breath. Finally, several minutes later, he flipped his head up, pushing the hair that had escaped from the tie he had used out of his face.

"85% accuracy, with 7% bullseye hits," he said out happily, before looking at the board beneath where he had just finished reading. "17 hits though," he winced, realizing the extent of his injuries as the adrenaline wore off.

"Not good enough. 17 hits in five minutes means I'll be a dead man if I'm facing anyone using even a hint of lethal force. If not immediately, then from bleeding out later," Edmund berated himself as he removed the few clothes he had on.

Considering he was being shot at from five different locations, Edmund knew he was being hard on himself, but he didn't care. If he grew overconfident, he would die; that much he was certain of.

Once he was nude, he uncapped a small potion on the desk next to him, pouring it into the hot tub on his other side. The concoction roiled the hot waters, causing loud bubbling sounds to erupt from within. Without paying it any mind, Edmund climbed into the bath, content to float in the middle. Leaning against the edge would normally be pleasant, but he did not anticipate that agitating his bruises would make them feel any better.

Over the course of the next half hour, said bruises vanished completely, leaving behind freshly healed pink skin, still somewhat tender to the touch. As he pulled on his clothes, Edmund could not resist itching the aforementioned areas, scratching at them with a sigh.

Dodging and spell target practice at the range trained his evasion, his accuracy, and helped build his magic reserves. It was by far the most efficient use of his time.

'But fuck if it doesn't hurt like a bitch,' Edmund thought to himself. 'Still, I might as well get used to pain sooner rather than later,' he reminded himself as he had to after every session to keep himself motivated.

His irritated mood faded quickly, however, as it was a special day. Tonight would be the first night he would be exploring the Forbidden Forest, an event which came much sooner than he thought it would, thanks to some rather good fortune.

*-*-*-*

FLASHBACK September 1993

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Edmund had decided early on that the best way to get a better knowledge of the Forbidden Forest and even to get close to it was by becoming friends with Hagrid. A task that was easily accomplished by going up to the half-giant and asking to be friends.

No, seriously, it was that easy.

Friendship with Hagrid had brought him unexpected boons and even proven to be a lot of fun. Whether it was learning a special spell to chop off unyielding tree branches, or tanning the hide of the game that Hagrid hunted for his meals, Edmund learned new things with every single hour he spent with Hagrid.

Of course, when Hagrid demonstrated the tree-chopping spell, some branches may have fallen onto Edmund's head, toppling him over.

But that was OK. Really. He got his revenge easily enough. Hagrid was a good sport, making him even harder to dislike.

By the time the blowback with the Buckbeak incident began to hit in full force, Edmund was genuinely saddened to see Hagrid upset. With Lucius Malfoy imprisoned, Fudge was in much less of a rush to appease the wishes of the Malfoy heir. Still, the family was well-connected, and Draco was used to abusing that fact. Edmund was consoled, however, knowing that the outcome would be favourable for the friendly giant.

Other than the occasional mention of the golden trio, the first person that Hagrid introduced him to was a surprise guest: Luna Lovegood.

The ditzy blonde had meandered down the path to Hagrid's Hut one day unannounced, politely asking Hagrid for his meat.

Edmund had looked at the girl in awe, shocked by her daring.

The boy had his mind down the gutter, as Hagrid didn't hesitate a second before handing the small girl a massive woven basket of raw meat, easily twice the size of her.

Luna had nodded to Hagrid gratefully, before using her wand to levitate the supply of food behind her as she trotted down to the small clearing within the forest where Hagrid held his Care of Magical Creatures lessons.

Edmund looked towards Hagrid with confusion, who answered his unasked question.

"Luna Lovegood," he said softly, checking that the girl was out of earshot. "Good girl she is, likes feeding the thestrals. I found her a little ways into the forest last year, feeding the herd mother with some food she'd stolen from the feast."

Hagrid chuckled then.

"Tried to lecture her I did, but she just looked at me with her big blue eyes, and said that they were hungry," Hagrid laughed in remembrance. "What was I supposed to say? She comes over sometimes, offers to feed them. Beautiful creatures thestrals are, but they have a bad reputation. I'm grateful for the help," he shrugged.

Edmund wandered over a few minutes later, a little weirded out by the way the food in Luna's hands vanished into thin air. He stepped on a twig, snapping it loudly.

"Hello," Luna said airily as she turned around. "My name's Luna Lovegood, although some people call me Loony. What's yours?"

"Hello Luna Lovegood. My name's Edmund Cole. I think I'll be calling you Luna if that's alright," he replied.

The girl had beamed happily in response, and an odd friendship had formed.

Edmund learned quickly that Luna loved nature, and wandering into the Forbidden Forest was a hobby of hers she often entertained. Most times, she liked collecting ingredients she found there, storing them away, or selling them for a decent price. The girl had a good eye, and used it to make good money.

Her primary interest was unicorn hair, which she found strewn across branches and bushes, tangled up everywhere that the beasts wandered. To Edmund's jealousy, she had even convinced the unicorn Hagrid brought over for a class to donate some shavings from its horn. However, when Edmund stepped a few feet closer to it for a closer look, the creature bolted with a whinny. Luna had almost fallen over from laughter as Edmund pouted.

When she had learned of Edmund's interest in demiguise hair, they had begun searching for it in earnest on the edges of the forest.

Luna had found a friend as well, one of her first, making it all the more important for her.

END FLASHBACK

*-*-*-*

Once Edmund had collected almost enough hair to form a cloak, he realized he would have to learn how to knit it together. Performing magic on demiguise hair stripped it of its unusual inherent magic, which meant he would have to go about it the muggle way.

That was no big deal.

Or it wouldn't have been, had Cecilia not discovered him practicing his knitting skills on colourful yarn he had found in the Room of Requirement in a corner of the library.

The girl had looked at his hands, then to his face, back to his hands, before finally landing on his face once more.

Edmund had opened his mouth, intending to explain, before closing it with a clack.

"It doesn't matter what I say, does it? You're never gonna stop making fun of me for this..." he had said in a defeated tone.

Cecilia nodded seriously.

"You're damn right," she confirmed.

*-*-*-*

Edmund smiled as he thought of the memory, before shaking his head.

Last night, he had at long last finished knitting the cloak, rather pleased with the result. On its own, the cloak was a glittery grey, its gradient of colours constantly changing if you continued to look at it.

It was almost six and a half feet tall, meant to accommodate whatever his full height would end up being. Its width, when spread out, could wrap all the way around his body. Complete with a hood, the demiguise cloak would serve as adequate protection for him.

To his chagrin, any movement within the cloak would cause the air around it to shimmer, giving up his position. It would be a bigger issue for him if he knew he wouldn't just be using it at night. For now, it would have to do.

The demiguise cloak was no professionally enchanted artifact, and it certainly wasn't the perfect Deathly Hallow that Harry Potter owned.

But, it was his, and he had made it himself. He was proud of it.

'Time to do some scoping,' Edmund thought to himself as he exited the Room of Requirement silently.