Harry Potter:blood legacy

"Why isn't it working?" Daphne wondered after three failed attempts.

"I don't know, Harry?" Tracy redirected the question to her classmate, who had yet to try.

"Let me try. Wingardium Leviosa," the boy calmly said, pointing his wand at the feather. In seconds, it floated into the air, expertly controlled by Potter.

"Excellent, Mr. Potter," Flitwick exclaimed happily. "Very good, five points to Slytherin."

"Thank you, sir."

"How did you do that?" Daphne whispered as soon as the professor turned his attention to the other students.

"You guys are mispronouncing the spell. You need to stretch the 'gar' part a bit," he was interrupted by a Gryffindor girl's voice.

"You're saying it wrong," Hermione addressed Ron condescendingly. "Wing-gar-di-um Levi-o-sa. Make the 'gar' longer. And remember, it's Levi-o-sa, not Levio-sah."

"Then do it yourself if you're so smart," Ron snapped irritably.

"Gladly." The girl huffed, pointing her wand at the feather. "Wingardium Leviosa!" At her words, the feather obediently floated into the air.

"Well done, Miss Granger. You're the first Gryffindor to succeed," Flitwick acknowledged her success. "Five points to Gryffindor."

"Thank you, Professor," she beamed, though her smile wasn't as bright as usual when receiving points.

"Looks like someone's jealous," Blaise whispered to the others. Harry didn't respond but thought it was probably true. He hadn't interacted much with the girl, but she seemed obsessed with raising her hand in class. Merlin forbid a teacher ignore her; Granger would start waving her hand like a windmill. She did it every lesson without fail when teachers began asking the class questions.

"Look at Weasley," Malfoy sneered. "He's so pathetic that even the Muggle-borns are bett—"

"Ahem," Harry coughed, cutting off the blond and narrowing his eyes with a clear unspoken warning: Choose your next words carefully.

"Er…even Muggle-borns are better than him," Draco quickly corrected himself. Angela had explained to Potter that the term "Mudblood" was an insult, referring to dirty blood, used for Muggle-borns. Harry, knowing his mother had been Muggle-born, didn't appreciate it. The last time someone used the word in his presence, snakes had hoisted the fourth-year student upside down in the common room until he nearly passed out before dropping him to the floor, only to lift him again a minute later. Since then, no one in Slytherin dared to use the term around Potter.

"Careful, Draco," Harry warned. "Weasley's an idiot, but blood has nothing to do with others being better than him. My theory is he's just fallen on his head too many times."

"Okay, so the Disarming Charm forces a person's wand out of their hand, but it's also like a Knockback Jinx?" Harry summarized. He, Jet, and Angela were in an abandoned classroom. It was Halloween, and most students were gathering in the Great Hall. Harry, despite his friends' protests, decided not to attend. Why? Because it was the day his parents had died, and he didn't feel like celebrating or spending the evening feasting.

His friends tried to convince him to join, and when that failed, they offered to stay with him. He refused, arguing they shouldn't miss out because of his issues. Reluctantly, they left him alone in the Slytherin common room. At least, that was until Angela showed up and offered to teach him a few more spells.

"Yes, but not always," the girl confirmed. "It's easy to use to knock the wand out of someone's hand, but you need to put more force into it if you want to knock them over. A good Disarming Charm ensures the opponent's wand flies out of their hand. A great one might even send them flying."

"Got it. So if I want someone to go flying, I should stick to Flipendo," Harry remarked.

"Yes, but personally, I always prefer disarming them over knocking them down."

"One doesn't exclude the other," Harry smirked.

"True," Angela chuckled. "Alright, let's try one last time for today."

"Okay." Potter took a deep breath before aiming his wand at Zabini. "Expelliarmus!" A white flash shot out, and the third-year's wand flew from her hand into Harry's.

"Good job," Angela smiled proudly at his success.

"Thanks," the boy said, slightly embarrassed, still unused to compliments, and returned the wand to its owner. "Did I do it right, or do I need more practice to improve?"

"You did great, and the fact that the spell worked makes you better than most first-years," the third-year assured him as they left the classroom together. "A bit more practice wouldn't hurt, though, to increase speed and power. Then you'll be disarming people with ease."

"Awesome," Harry grinned for a moment before his face grew thoughtful. "Angela, if you don't mind me asking, why didn't you go to the feast with everyone else?"

"Before I answer, let me ask you: why didn't you?"

"Well, today's the day my parents died. I don't know why, I just didn't feel like celebrating and planned to spend the evening reading a book."

"Well, Harry, in my case, it's simple," she began as they turned a corner. "I just wa—" The girl fell silent, as did her companion, as they came face-to-face with an unexpected obstacle.

"Bloody hell," Angela swore.

Standing before them was a twelve-foot gray troll, a massive club in its right hand. It wore nothing but a loincloth and a small unbuttoned brown vest that barely covered its shoulders and upper back. It had hair under its nose resembling sideburns, a small bald head with long ears, large two-toed feet, and a protruding belly.

"Uncle Vernon?" Jet muttered in disbelief.

"Bloody hell, do you know anything about trolls?" Harry asked, trying to stay calm as they both drew their wands.

"They have thick skin, they're very strong, but they're stupid," the girl provided a brief summary as the troll began to advance. "Stupefy!" she shouted, sending a Stunning Spell at the troll. It didn't knock the monster out but at least distracted it. "Obscuro!" she followed up, and a black blindfold shot out of her wand, wrapping around the troll's eyes.

"Nice," Harry commented before making his move. "Incendio!" The sudden flames set the blindfold alight, causing the troll to howl and claw at its face in pain.

"Oh, how cruel," Angela nodded approvingly at his actions.

"I'm not done yet," Harry snorted before pointing his wand at the floor. "Serpensortia!" A black mamba appeared. "Attack the troll!" The snake nodded and slithered to obey.

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