Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 89: A change of attitude and the loss of an old friend
"Mister Potter, please stay behind for a moment. " Professor McGonagall requested.
"Of course, Professor. " Harry answered politely.
"You didn't get in trouble, right?" Hermione stared at him.
"No, I don't think so." But he did have an idea of what she wanted to talk about.
Harry waited patiently until everyone exited the classroom and approached the Professor's desk.
McGonagall lifted her eyes from her papers and glanced at him.
"Olliver Wood came to me yesterday to hand me the list of applicants for the Quidditch team and I noticed your name among them. You were also one of the only two candidates for the position of seeker."
"That is correct, Professor." He could guess where she was going with this.
"I'm sure you are aware already, but your father was a superb player during his school years. One of the best chasers the Gryffindor team ever had." McGonagall explained.
"He did mention it once or twice."
The professor smiled.
"I bet he did…did James teach you how to fly properly?"
"He did." Harry nodded.
"And did you bring a good broom with you? The ones you can borrow from the school are…suboptimal to say the least."
"I brought two. My Nimbus 1900 and a prototype of the new Nimbus 2001 that my uncle Remus gave me. I wasn't sure if the school would allow me to use the prototype to fly."
"Mmm…I will need to consult this with the other professors, but I don't think there will be any problems once that broom becomes available for sale. In the meantime, use the 1900."
"Very well, that's no problem." The old one was still a good broom, and his opponents were going to be students.
"I have high hopes for you, Mister Potter. The team really needs a good seeker. What happened last year was…very unfortunate." It sounded like she wanted to use a different word to describe that.
"I'll do my best, Professor McGonagall," Harry promised her.
"There was one more thing I wanted to comment on."
The professor let out a long pause.
"Is about your performance during the first classes of this year."
"Was there a problem with my work?" He asked.
"Of course not! Your work has been perfect. Even more so than Miss Granger. I could not have done it any better. But this made me wonder, where was this Harry last year?" McGonagall questioned.
Harry considered for a moment what to say. After assessing the current situation with Voldemort, he realized that there was no more need to keep a low profile at school.
He was not planning on trying hard either, this was just the second year of Hogwarts. But he did stop holding back so much. It made attending school much more relaxing if he didn't have to carefully calculate his every move to avoid standing out more than the average student.
"I wasn't feeling very motivated last year, Professor." He decided to go with that.
"I see…I did notice that you seemed somewhat bored during our classes." The Professor recalled.
'Still am…' he thought.
"But I'm glad to see this change in attitude. And if you are feeling unmotivated again or if you think the material is too easy, I want you to talk to me, and we will figure something out." McGonagall said.
"I understand, thank you, Professor McGonagall." He could at least appreciate the passion of this woman for teaching even if her efforts were wasted on him.
There was nothing she could teach him anymore…she already did in the past. And since then, he has pushed that knowledge to another level.
"Mister Potter…I have been teaching for many years, and during this period of time, I have developed a keen eye for students. I can tell when someone has something special to them, something that others don't have. And I can tell that you will accomplish great things in the future, Mister Potter. As long as you study hard and don't give up."
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On Saturday morning, Harry was going through the contents of his suitcase.
Daphne sent him a message yesterday to meet at their usual spot.
But he was having trouble finding his invisibility cloak.
"I'm sure I put it here…" He continued to move things around.
He immediately discarded the idea that the cloak had been stolen. This suitcase was well protected against thieves. There was zero chance that a Hogwarts student and especially one of his roommates could get inside.
It was at that moment that he noticed a black piece of fabric he had previously moved out of the way.
Harry picked it up and examined it up close until he found the sigil of the Peverel family at the neck area.
"What is this?..." He could not understand it.
He analyzed it further, looking for symbols and marks on the fabric. Harry was extremely familiar with this magical artifact.
After further inspection, he had no doubt…this was the invisibility cloak he always used. But it looked completely different now.
He remembers it looking normal when he packed his things, a few days before traveling to Hogwarts.
When it was not in use, the cloak had a brilliant bluish tone with bits of silver on it. It was hard to miss it.
But now, it was all pitch black. If it wasn't for the symbols on the fabric, he would never believe it was the same cloak.
He attempted to use it and threw the cloak over his head like always. His vision became completely occluded, he could not see a thing through the black fabric.
It was clear that the cloak was not working any longer.
He placed it on top of the bed and used his wand to perform a magical scan. This was used by the Aurors to detect and find potentially illegal magical artifacts, as these ones always let out a faint magical signature.
"Nothing…" That was the result. There was not a single trace of magic on this thing. It was just a simple black cloak.
"How did this happen?"
This magical artifact that has been around for many centuries and passed down several generations of his family…has just lost its magic with no warning or explanation.