Chapter 59: 2nd September 1991, Monday: Part 14

The sound of George's name being called felt like a knife being stabbed into his gut. He knew at that moment he'd been too slow to leave. Could he say no? The option was there but the consequences would be disastrous. Nothing screamed 'I have something to hide' like running away. Also, his persona did what he was told, therefore, George had to comply.

George turned around and attempted to look as carefree as possible, "okay."

For all that George prided himself on his linguistic skills, one word was the best he could muster. The headache was still there and the tiredness had barely subsided, it felt like his brain was running at ten per cent efficiency. He briefly considered taking an extra dose of the calming potion before he walked over, but he decided it would only be a waste. What he needed right now was a stimulant, not an emotional suppressant. George ended up pinching his arm and biting the inside of his mouth until he almost drew blood. With a bit of luck, the self-harm would act as a home-brew invigoration potion to wake him up.

Sadly, the effects were quite underwhelming. That was mainly due to the injuries not being painful enough to get his blood pumping. His high pain tolerance threshold was coming back to bite him, who knew being numb to pain could be a bad thing? With that failure swept to one side, George walked over to McGonagall whilst trying to pretend none of the other professors existed.

McGonagall smiled whilst gesturing towards Dumbledore, "I was just telling Professor Dumbledore about your impressive Transfiguration skills you showed me earlier today. He is very interested and would like you to do a demonstration if you don't mind."

"Please Professor McGonagall, it's been a long...", George tried to refute.

Sinistra, who was seated on Dumbledore's left, chipped into the conversation as she leaned forward and looked at George.

"I've too heard of Mr Linwood's conjuration magic. I would also like to see a demonstration."

George looked back at Sinistra, "thank you, Professor Sinistra, but..."

Snape decided to put the final nail into George's coffin.

"I have also heard about Mr Linwood's proficiency in flame conjuration. I believe the headmaster would find George's natural talent... most enlightening."

George's pleading towards all the teachers appeared to have been overlooked. He was hoping that the shy act would be good enough to get him excused from performing in front of Dumbledore, how wrong he'd been. Didn't any of these professors remember his meltdown the other day, George could not understand why they would put him on the spot like this. He wondered if this was meant to be some sort of rehabilitation the teachers had organised. They must have been under the impression that this show in front of the headmaster would ease his nerves. If that was the case, then they had successfully done the exact opposite.

Then George heard Dumbledore's calm voice, "the past afternoon, I haven't had a moment of peace without Professor McGonagall or Professor Sinistra singing your praises. I would appreciate it if you could show me this innate talent I've heard so much about."

George hesitantly looked in Dumbledore's direction and saw the old man looking back with a relaxed smile. He had to hold back the urge to shiver upon meeting those glistening-all-knowing eyes. There was no scenario where he could talk his way out of this one, he had to show a least a sample of his power. George slowly raised his shaking hand, he wasn't sure if he was acting or not, towards Dumbledore and turned it so that the palm was facing up. He then brought his index and thumb together and clicked them to produce a small ordinary flame which hovered above his palm.

All the professors at the table looked impressed at George's capabilities except for two. Snape was someone who would never look impressed, even if he was, but the other more concerning individual was Dumbledore. Those eyes definitely could see something no one else had. George could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as he watched Dumbledore seemingly stare into his soul. The scariest thing was that George couldn't even feel Dumbledore attempting to read his mind. It was as if that man didn't need to check George was lying, he just somehow knew.

McGonagall leaned over to Dumbledore with a big smile, "isn't that astonishing? I would never have guessed that an eleven-year-old muggle-born could ever produce wandless magic with such ease, let alone a conjuration."

Dumbledore didn't look as convinced as McGonagall, his smile turned into a slight smirk as he addressed George.

"That was easy for you, wasn't it George?"

George was thinking internally, "God damn it, how does he know?", but his face only twitched minutely before returning to normal.

George 'acted' startled as he asked, "Headmaster, I'm not sure what you mean?"

Dumbledore didn't seem to find George's answer satisfactory, "you can't fool this old man. You are able to do much more but you're afraid to show it, I can tell that you are far from pushing your limits.

Don't be afraid George. Show me what you are truly capable of?"

You are reading story Harry Potter and the Fractured Dragon at novel35.com

The rest of the professors at the table appeared to be confused after hearing Dumbledore's words. George's demonstration must have been already exceeding their expectations. It was just a shame that the headmaster wasn't of the same mind.

McGonagall looked concerned as she whispered to Dumbledore, "are you sure about this Albus? He is only a young boy and pushing him to…"

Dumbledore raised his hand and interrupted McGonagall, "I assure you that George will be fine. I'll intervene if I sense he is losing control.

Please George, in your own time."

George was sitting on a fence, he did not know what his best course of action should be. Should he pretend to be ignorant of Dumbledore's implication and say that this was already the best he could manage? If he decided to do this, Dumbledore would know he was lying and would start questioning whether he had a reason for concealing this information outside of him just being nervous. Remus might have been on George's side, but he doubted that Dumbledore would have come away from their conversation without having at least a minuscule amount of curiosity about George's capabilities. He had to do something to release that curiosity or it would continue to grow.

Another option was to go all out and show the extent of George's power. This could make Dumbledore suspicious of why someone of George's age was so unbelievably powerful and may result in him investigating his past. The only remaining option was to show the Goldy-Locks-zone amount of power, not too much and not too little. The problem with this method was determining the right amount of power whilst being absolutely exhausted, which if it wasn't obvious, was going to be incredibly difficult. Since there was no other option, George made up his mind and nodded vaguely in Dumbledore's direction.

George moved his hands so they were directly in front of his face with the small flame sandwiched in between both of his palms. He concentrated on the flame as it spontaneously began to grow from what was originally the size of a tennis ball, to the size of a coconut. George kept on slowly separating his hands as the flame grew bigger and bigger. The flame got brighter and wilder as it grew, but he kept on making micro corrections to keep the flame hovering between his palms. It was getting progressively harder to control, but this size was still well within his capabilities.

Once the flame reach the size of a basketball, its shape and consistency started to change. The flame deformed into a sphere with a firey-watery layer on the outside. This change was as much of a surprise to the onlookers as it was for George, this had never happened before. It was almost like the spell had developed some level of automation, it was adding to his encantation as if it had a mind of its own. Droplets of plasma started to form on the outside like the orb was producing condensation. It was dripping down onto the floor leaving scorch marks on George's shoes.

Determining that magic fire gaining sentience was not good, George stopped pouring magic into the ball of fire. His situation only went from bad to worse as the ball continued to increase in size even without his input. He could feel that his incantation had become self-sustaining and wanted to keep getting bigger. George kept focusing on keeping the ball under control, but the fire's generated heat was overwhelming his senses. He could feel the sweat on his brow vaporising as the massive flame was now only six inches away from his face.

Once George's arms were over three feet apart and the flame was half his size, it began to shake violently as if it was trying to break from his hold. That little bit of sentience it had developed wasn't happy with George's restraints and was trying to fight back. Bits of plasma was now spitting out of the flame which landed on the teacher's table and George's robes. He might have been set alight if it wasn't for the enchantments protecting the expensive robes from fire damage. George was no longer able to see the professors anymore, but he could imagine that they would have been showing fearful expressions.

At this point, George was reduced to wrestling with the forces wishing to disburse the flame. If he let go, it would most likely result in an explosion. Since he didn't want to die in a blazing inferno, George tried to pull his arms back together with a great deal of force. Instead of stabilising the flame, he was going to try and crush it and hopefully snuff it out. Luckily, the ball of fire did start to shrink but it also increased in density as its mass was being forced into a smaller and smaller space. The resistance George was experiencing only increased the closer his hands got together whilst his strength only weakened as time went by.

It took nearly a full agonising minute, but George eventually clasped his cooked palms together. The powerful resistance suddenly came to an end and the sentient encantation fell silent, control had finally been restored. George slowly lifted his shaking left hand from his right and revealed a glowing marble that looked like a miniature sun floating in his palm. George then tilted his hand which caused the marble to slowly float forward until it was in the centre of the table. It stopped once it was halfway between himself and Dumbledore.

George wiped the boiling sweat from his brow and started to regulate his breathing to regain his composure. He had no idea what had happened just now, there was no way he'd just misjudged his control and allowed the flame to get bigger than he intended. Sure his tiredness was a factor, but he had accounted for that before he'd started the encantation. Something else had contributed to this mistake, he just couldn't imagine what. Regardless of what George thought of his out-of-control fire display, there was only one person's opinion that really mattered.

Whilst still panting, George looked back up to Dumbledore to see if he had done enough to finally satisfy the man. It better be enough because that was legitimately his limit, George had nothing left in the tank. He received no greeting as the entire table of professors looked equally as surprised, even Snape seemed to be in shock. The only exception was Dumbledore who was staring intensely at the glowing marble floating in front of him. He reached out with his thumb and index finger towards the marble, his fingers started glowing in blue light as he pinched it. He pulled the marble closer and readjusted his glasses to have a better look.

"How peculiar."

Dumbledore stared at the marble for a few more seconds before he started squeezing it between his fingers. The blue glow from his index finger and thumb brightened intensely as he exerted more and more pressure, but the marble matched his efforts. George could feel the sentience panicking inside the marble, the formally squshed resistance had flared back up tenfold. If George had been in Dumbledore's shoes, he wouldn't have been able to do anything besides embracing the sweet release of death. The glow from the frightened marble kept getting brighter until it was painful to look at, it was like staring directly at the sun.

After a few seconds, the blue glow from Dumbledore's fingers overtook the marble's light. Then the marble began to crack, and George could feel his connection with it becoming increasingly unstable. The sentient flame was practically screaming at George to do something, but he saw no reason to help it. Just a few seconds ago, that thing would have happily vaporised him. A faint cracking noise could be heard before the marble shattered into dust and the screaming voice came to an abrupt end. The dust formed into glowing embers that glided down onto the table leaving scorch marks behind that quickly faded away.

The glow from Dumbledore's fingers faded as he rubbed them together, he appeared to be making some sort of evaluation. Dumbledore looked to have made up his mind as he looked back at George with the same unreadable expression.

He said calmly, "you must be tired, George. Go and retire to your dormitory, and make sure you have a good night's rest."

George could finally escape, he didn't hesitate to bow his head and turn around to flee. He was doing a decent job of hiding it, but if he didn't leave right now he might collapse from exhaustion. George turned around only to quickly realise that the teachers weren't the only ones who had been paying attention to him making a mini sun. The Great Hall was full with the majority of the students and all of them were staring at George. By this point, he didn't care anymore. All he wanted to do was take Dumbledore's advice and fall asleep as soon as physically possible.

George ran out of the Great Hall, under everybody's watch, and headed straight to the Slytherin common room. On the way, he wolfed down the beef wellington he had stolen, he was back in his dormitory right as he was finishing the final piece of crust. George didn't even give Blinkie a second glance as he collapsed onto his bed face first, that bird would have to wait until tomorrow to get fed. George was so tired that he had already fallen asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

You can find story with these keywords: Harry Potter and the Fractured Dragon, Read Harry Potter and the Fractured Dragon, Harry Potter and the Fractured Dragon novel, Harry Potter and the Fractured Dragon book, Harry Potter and the Fractured Dragon story, Harry Potter and the Fractured Dragon full, Harry Potter and the Fractured Dragon Latest Chapter