The Hogwarts Challenge: Evolving Magic

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me. This is just fanfiction, written to amuse myself and (hopefully) others and not for any profit or material gain.

A/N: No, it\'s not the promised HG/SS chapter yet. I\'m really really sorry, that one is mostly written and will be posted in a couple of days. This chapter just sort of grew past the intended two paragraphs, hopefully everybody will like it and it clears up a few things. The reviews so far have been lovely, please keep it up.

Harry walked quickly through the corridors towards the entrance to Gryffindor’s common room. Maybe it was just him, but it seemed like everybody was looking at him strangely. Had someone found out about him and Draco? Was it all over the school? Surely someone had seen them, after all, they had been doing it in front of the entire school, Harry thought, flushing. Whatever it was. He still wasn’t sure exactly what to call what they’d been doing.

He brushed past Seamus coming out of the Gryffindor main room, the other boy saw him, smirked and quickly looked away, walking briskly past him. Harry sighed, eying the fat lady with trepidation. She had an odd look on her face. It must be out. Everybody knew.

“Hello dear, you’re looking . . . well” she greeted him, raising a hand to pat her powdered curls and biting her lip. Did she just giggle? “Password?” She prompted him; he must be imagining things.

“Tamarix pentandra” he muttered, hastily stepping through. He felt himself relax, it was difficult totenstense in this sort of room. It was deserted, except for one figure sprawled in one of the overstuffed chairs beside the fireplace. Harry stepped forward; he was in luck, not that he was eager to have this conversation. But best to get it over with.

Ron stared moodily into the mug of butterbeer he was holding. Seamus had just left in disgust. Wouldn’t hurt the man to show a little sympathy, he thought admiring the way the firelight reflected through the amber depths of his drink. He heard footsteps, but ignored them, feeling rather disgusted with his peers at the moment.

Ron wasn’t looking at him. This was bad. Clearing his throat nervously, Harry stuttered, “Ron, I can explain, I”

“So can I,” Ron muttered savagely, still not looking up. “The sorting hat explained it all very clearly! I” he looked up, despairingly into Harry’s eyes, and choked sending butterbeer spraying across the table.

Harry quickly ran over to his friend and pounded helpfully on his back. What had the sorting hat told Ron? But his friend just waved him off and gasped, “mirror” pointing to the mirror that hung between the two dormitory staircases. Frowning in confusion, Harry approached it, stopping suddenly as he caught sight of himself. The mirror, for once, appeared to be dumbstruck.

Harry winced, so many things made sense now. His hair, normally messy, had become something akin to an animate life form. A sea anemone was the closest comparison. The strands had thickened and lengthened, standing out from his head and probing the air around them, he raised a hand to his hair and they wrapped around it eagerly, curling tightly around his wrist and fingers.

“You really shouldn’t tick Hermione off Harry,” Ron had recovered and was wiping his mouth with the back of his jumper, “she’s been getting a lot better with her hexes. Did you walk through the whole school like that?” he eyed Harry’s hair with a mixture of awe and fear, wondering if she’d show him how to do that, Fred and George would pay good money for that beauty.

“Yes,” Harry replied, trying to free his hand. It was stuck!

“Not that it matters” Ron said, morosely, digging around in his robes for the other butter beer. “Nothing really matters anymore, my life is over.” He gave up the search and flopped back in the chair, staring listlessly up at the ceiling.

“Come on,” Harry consoled his friend, using his left hand to pull as hard as he could on the wrist of his right hand, trying to free it from his hair, “it can’t be that bad. Doesn’t our friendship mean anything?”

“Our friendship doesn’t change the fact that I’m slipping!” Ron wailed. “I’ve become slower, stupider, fuzzier!”

“Fuzzier?” Harry echoed, confused.

“Yes, fuzzier! If you were a real friend you would have said something.” Ron cried, slamming a hand down on the table in frustration.

“What does this have to do with Draco Malfoy putting the moves on me?”

“I’ve been sorted into Hufflepuff!”

Harry and Ron shouted at the same time, and then broke off, staring at each other in horror.

Harry stopped trying to free his hand and concentrated on trying to stifle his laughter. Hufflepuff. He snickered. Well, that was pretty bad, although Ron obviously had the wrong idea about what it meant.

“Draco Malfoy is hitting on you?!?” Ron echoed, screwing up his face in disgust and inching away from Harry as if he’d just confessed to having some sort of horrible communicable disease.

“Yeah well, I’m still not really sure what’s going on,” Harry shrugged and settled into the chair next to Ron, resuming his struggle to free his right hand, maybe if he used his wand as a wedge? He’d already had this conversation with Hermione, and he suddenly felt very tired of it. “Stop staring and help me get my hand out, it’s starting to go numb,” he growled at Ron, who was still gaping at him, repeating hinounnouncement.

“Yes. Right” Ron scrambled up and braced his feet against the chair as he tried to get a good grasp on Harry’s stuck hand. Malfoy hadn’t touched him there had he? Touch by association, gross, he shuddered. “Don’t worry Harry, Hermione will help us with defense spells, and repellence spells, and-and purification charms,” he added, trying to sound comforting, but the other boy’s hair was waving towards him alarmingly.

“Don’t worry about it Ron,” Harry sighed, “I’ve already talked to Hermione about it, we can discuss it more later. She wants to get together and talk about the challenge too. Lets just drop the subject for now.” Ron nodded and yanked as hard as he could on Harry’s wrist, lifting Harry bodily out of the chair by his wrist, he hastily dropped him again, hoping he hadn’t dislocated his shoulder. “Stop,” Harry growled, scooting away from Ron, somehow they always managed to make things worse between the two of them.

“I can’t,” Ron whispered, his face pale, “my hand’s stuck too now!” he started yanking at it frantically, jerking Harry’s head back and forth. His other hand was creeping towards his wand.

“Hold still, you’ll just make it worse!”

“Control your hair then.” Ron exclaimed, his wand out, trying to think of something appropriate. “Relaxo” he commanded, uttering the first spell that came to mind, and Harry flopped, bonelessly back into the chair, his hair going limp and releasing both their hands.

Harry relaxed into the chair, feeling very mellow. Now that his wand hand was free, he should probably cast finite incantum on himself, but it just didn’t seem very important. Ron dropped into the chair beside him, cradling his wrist.

“What a bloody awful day, first Hufflepuff, now this!” Ron said, a hint of hysteria creeping into his voice.

“Relax,” Harry drawled, “the houses are just for the challenge event, it’s not a reflection of your character or anything. You should talk to Hermione, she can tell you allllllll about it.” He smiled and enjoyed the warm glow of the fire next to him.

“Oh,” Ron blinked and seemed to calm down a bit. “I wondered why my stuff hadn’t been moved to Hufflepuff. It’ll be weird not having you or Hermione in a class with me though.”

“Don’t worry,” Harry patted his friends shoulder consolingly, “you’re welcome to come visit me in Slytherin.”

“Slytherin?!?” Ron squeaked, jumping from his chair to stare at Harry.

Harry frowned slightly, he’d been trying to make his friend less tense, but it seemed to have the opposite fact. It was very difficult to relax when your best friend was squeaking and jumping around. “Relax, it’s not so bad, I think we’re supposed to be promoting . . .” what was it Hermione had said? Oh yeah, “inter-house relations.”

Next Chapter: Dungeon Crawling

A/N: Completely HG/SS. It\'s almost finished, should be up very soon. Lots of action in every sense of the word.