Harry Potter: Returns Back From Game of Thrones (ASOIAF) - 29

Chapter 29: Avada Lightning Chain

Percy blinked in confusion, utterly bewildered by Harry's casual attitude. "Are you serious right now?"

When someone asks that question, it's not because they have a problem—it's because they're certain you do.

The Headmaster had just announced there was mortal danger lurking inside the school, and Harry was asking why anyone would be concerned. This wasn't normal behaviour. Harry's thought processes seemed to operate on an entirely different wavelength from everyone else's.

"Isn't this quite ordinary, though? I think this school has always been rather dangerous. Ghosts dine with us, there's a legendary sword hidden in a hat, you mentioned earlier that moving staircases can be jumped across when the gap is short—which means someone must have fallen before and discovered that limit. Before arriving, I genuinely expected magical examinations to involve duelling professors to the death or competing in some sort of elimination trial."

Harry felt Hogwarts was already considerably safer than he'd anticipated.

"You thought we had to duel professors to the death? Our school isn't some barbaric gladiatorial arena. You don't actually want to kill a professor, do you? You're only a first year!" Percy finally couldn't restrain himself any longer.

Harry remained diplomatically silent. Though he'd deliberately omitted naming Quirrell and Snape, he still felt reasonably certain he'd probably end up fighting at least one of those two professors eventually.

Especially Quirrell. After two separate encounters, he still needed to investigate Snape more thoroughly, but Quirrell was definitely dangerous—a proper Death Eater with all the telltale signs. Harry was simply biding his time with him, gathering information. Otherwise he would have dealt with the man back at the Leaky Cauldron already.

He should also find time to ask Dumbledore discreetly whether the Headmaster knew about Quirrell's suspicious behaviour.

"By the way, what exactly is this 'elimination trial' you mentioned? Doesn't sound like proper school activity." Percy's curiosity won out over his concern.

"Between students fighting until only one remains? Forget it—too bloody and disturbing. You're still young. No need to fill your head with such violence."

Percy, who greatly valued authority and hierarchical order as a prefect, heard Harry dismiss him as 'young' and surprisingly didn't refute the statement at all—showing he'd naturally begun treating Harry as somehow superior, perhaps even viewing him as an adult despite their similar ages.

Just then, Dumbledore's voice rang out cheerfully across the Great Hall.

"Now, before everyone retires for well-deserved rest, let's sing the school song together!"

Harry noticed the other teachers' smiles seemed suddenly frozen in place, their expressions suggesting this tradition was perhaps less beloved among staff.

Dumbledore flicked his wand with theatrical flourish. A long golden ribbon flew from the wand tip, twisting and coiling high above the dining tables like a shimmering serpent, forming glowing lines of text suspended in mid-air.

"Everyone choose your favourite tune," Dumbledore announced with evident delight. "Ready now—sing!"

The entire assembled company of teachers and students burst into enthusiastic song:

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please...

Everyone finished the school song at wildly different tempos, creating absolute musical chaos.

The Weasley twins sang their version to the solemn tune of a funeral march, drawing out each syllable dramatically. Harry sang his own rendition to a new battle hymn he'd recently composed for the reorganised Night's Watch forces—the rhythm felt appropriately martial.

Dumbledore conducted enthusiastically with his wand throughout the cacophony. When the last stragglers finally finished their extended versions, his applause rang out loudest of all, echoing through the Great Hall.

"Music," he declared, dabbing at his eyes with genuine emotion, "is more magical than anything else we accomplish here! Now it's well past bedtime. Everyone return to your dormitories."

The Gryffindor first years dutifully followed Percy through the noisy, chattering crowd, out of the Great Hall, and up the wide marble staircases that dominated Hogwarts' architecture.

Harry observed everything with keen interest, mentally mapping routes and noting architectural peculiarities. Percy mentioned that in previous years when new students enrolled, Peeves would invariably appear at this exact moment, causing maximum mischief and chaos. Tonight was probably unusually peaceful specifically because Harry's presence discouraged the poltergeist from his usual pranks.

Besides Harry, Peeves apparently only feared the Bloody Baron—a Slytherin ghost who, because he travelled alone rather than with the Fat Friar's group, had fortuitously escaped Harry's earlier petrification spree.

Because of the Bloody Baron's intimidating presence, Peeves restrained himself marginally when tormenting Slytherin students.

At critical moments, young wizards from other houses could threaten Peeves by claiming they'd report him to the Bloody Baron. Now there was an additional authority figure who could effectively intimidate the troublesome spirit.

While Percy explained Hogwarts politics and ghost hierarchies, they'd reached the corridor's end. A large portrait hung prominently here—depicting a very stout woman dressed entirely in vivid pink silk.

"Password?" she enquired with theatrical hauteur.

"Caput Draconis," Percy announced clearly.

The painting swung smoothly forward like a door, revealing a perfectly round hole in the stone wall behind it.

Harry privately felt this portrait security seemed rather ineffective—one determined poke would probably damage it beyond function. What actual protective value did the Fat Lady's guardianship provide? The password requirement felt somewhat theatrical and purposeless, the sort of affectation commonly associated with youthful pretension.

Beyond the portrait hole lay Gryffindor's common room—a comfortable, warmly lit circular chamber filled with squashy scarlet armchairs arranged around a crackling fireplace. The room smelt pleasantly of old parchment and woodsmoke.

Boys and girls separated here for their respective dormitories. The arrangements seemed remarkably trusting—male and female quarters were quite close, essentially like students sharing the same building or even floor. Girls disappeared through one door toward their tower, whilst boys followed Percy up a spiral staircase.

Harry would be rooming with Ron, Neville, and two other first-year boys whose names he was still learning.

Ron clearly wanted to continue their earlier conversation before sleeping, but exhaustion claimed him almost immediately. Within minutes of his head touching the pillow, he'd tumbled into deep slumber, snoring softly.

The next morning brought immediate notoriety.

"Over there—look!"

"Where exactly?"

"Next to that tall red-haired boy."

"The one wearing glasses?"

"Did you see his face properly?"

"See that lightning scar on his forehead?"

"Why does he have scars on his wrists too?"

"Never heard about those before. I know insider information though—the scar on his forehead was left by Avada Kedavra itself. The scars on both wrists look more severe—possibly from even more terrifying curses."

"There are curses more powerful than the Killing Curse?"

"My great-grandmother mentioned seeing such magic when she was young. Might have been called Avada Lightning Chain or something similar—the kind that can kill multiple people simultaneously in a chain reaction."

"You're making that up—there's no such spell."

"I heard he started killing dark wizards at age eight."

"Nonsense! Clearly age one! This is even recorded in Modern Magical History."

"Official sources all claim Voldemort died at Harry's hands that night."

"I originally didn't believe such absurd stories, but after witnessing him last night with the ghosts, I'm convinced."

"People really do differ fundamentally from one another. Insider sources say Harry was born bearing prophecy as the chosen saviour—he might genuinely not be entirely mortal."

"Perhaps decades from now, we can boast to younger generations that we were actual classmates with the legendary Harry Potter."

When Harry emerged from the dormitory the following morning, these whispered speculations constantly followed him through the corridors like persistent shadows.

Students formed long queues outside classrooms, everyone craning on tiptoes, desperately wanting to glimpse the famous boy properly.

In the corridors, they would walk directly past him, then immediately turn around to stare fixedly at his retreating back, utterly shameless in their fascination.

Harry sincerely hoped they'd abandon this behaviour soon—he'd come to Hogwarts to study magic and prepare for future challenges. Fan meetings and autograph sessions could wait until evening free time at the earliest.

More pressingly, Hogwarts' layout proved extraordinarily difficult to navigate. According to intelligence Harry had carefully collected, the castle contained precisely 142 staircases in total.

Some were wide, grand, and reassuringly solid. Others were narrow, small, and disturbingly rickety, swaying alarmingly beneath students' weight. Some led to entirely different destinations every Friday without warning or pattern. Some featured steps that would suddenly vanish halfway up—forcing students to remember exactly where to jump across the treacherous gaps.

Percy apparently still thought the school wasn't particularly dangerous. Harry privately reflected that in any ordinary non-magical school, these architectural hazards would have resulted in numerous fatal accidents and immediate lawsuits.