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HRA# CHAPTER 164
🕑 Added 2025-06-20 14:23:52 +0000 UTCAs the camera flashed, the beaming faces of the Gryffindor students were captured forever.
Butterbeer doesn’t get you drunk, but somehow, it still does.
By the end of the night, many students didn’t even make it back to their dormitories. Instead, they sprawled across the common room floor in a chaotic heap, waking up the next morning with pounding headaches.
But butterbeer could never get Harry Potter tipsy—it only left him wanting more. So, later that night, Harry slipped out of the Gryffindor common room and made his way out of the castle to Hagrid’s hut. On a celebratory night like this, he wasn’t about to leave his dear friend behind.
When Harry showed up, Hagrid roasted half a pig. The two sat by the fire, eating hearty chunks of meat and drinking fine wine Harry had found in the Potter family cellar. They didn’t stir until the sky began to lighten, waking beside the smoldering embers of the fire.
Their constitutions were far too sturdy to catch a cold from a night outdoors, though Harry did sneeze when he washed up in the chilly waters of the Black Lake that morning.
A wonderful night.
At breakfast, Professor McGonagall handed Harry his new timetable. The first class of the semester for the Shamanism course—formerly known as the Shamanism Club—was scheduled for that very day.
An owl from the Ministry of Magic delivered a letter. Beyond the formal congratulations on Harry Potter’s appointment as a Hogwarts professor, it included a certificate proving he was, indeed, a professor and not some raving lunatic. The letter also outlined his rights and responsibilities, including teaching appropriate material to Hogwarts students as directed by the Ministry and providing assistance when the Ministry required it.
Harry took the letter to Professor McGonagall for clarification. She explained that Hogwarts professors essentially served as magical consultants to the Ministry. If the Ministry faced challenges in a professor’s field, they could call upon them for help—though such requests hadn’t been made in years.
Harry’s letter, however, differed significantly from the one McGonagall had received when she became a professor. Transfiguration was an ancient discipline, with clear expectations for its professors. Shamanism, on the other hand, was so new that the Ministry hadn’t yet figured out where it fit. The letter glossed over both privileges and duties with vague wording.
Following magical tradition, Harry suspected it wouldn’t be long before he’d have to work with the Ministry to draft laws related to shamanism, much like Newt Scamander had done for magical creature regulations. Experts handled their fields, which was a good thing.
Though, Harry mused, it might also let him pull a Mr. Weasley and leave a convenient loophole or two.
In the end, magical law was a bit of a mess anyway.
The dedicated classroom for the Shamanism course wasn’t ready yet, nor was Harry’s professor’s office. McGonagall had approved his request to build an office near Hagrid’s hut—after all, he wasn’t the only professor living outside the castle. Professor Kettleburn, who taught Care of Magical Creatures, had his home right on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
The first lesson of the new school year took place at the shamanic altar Harry had constructed at Hogwarts. He hadn’t yet started selecting new students, so this class was only for last year’s apprentices—though Harry privately thought that one year of study hardly made them “veteran” apprentices.
“Everyone, I hope you had a pleasant summer,” Harry greeted, dressed in his full shamanic garb.
Filch’s response was the loudest, with the others chiming in, but Terry Boot looked on the verge of tears, his face shadowed with gloom.
“I told you, Boot, don’t dwell on it,” Harry said gently, standing before the guilt-ridden apprentice. “You broke Ministry law, but you didn’t betray the shaman’s creed. I’m not kicking you out.”
After the trial, Harry had already comforted Boot, who had sobbed so hard he could barely breathe.
“Er, Mentor,” Davis said, raising a tentative hand, “I think… breaking Ministry law is already pretty serious.”
“The Ministry isn’t always right,” Harry replied, shaking his head. “That said, Boot definitely caused a lot of trouble for their staff. If he weren’t underage, a warning letter wouldn’t have been the end of it.” He turned to Boot. “If you’re feeling guilty, spend some free time with your parents visiting the Obliviators who cleaned up your mess. They’re the ones who fixed your mistake. Always think carefully about whether you can handle the consequences before acting rashly.”
“Do the right thing, Boot. Don’t squander your power.”
“I will, Mentor,” Terry Boot said, wiping his tears.
Harry didn’t have much to say about these transient apprentices. Unless their bond with him deepened, once they graduated in their seventh year, even if they caused chaos in the world, it wouldn’t reflect on him.
“Let’s move on. That’s in the past,” Harry said, patting Boot’s shoulder before addressing the group. “You may have noticed we have one extra person in class this year.”
“Yes, a Ravenclaw junior!” Penelope said with a grin, wrapping an arm around Luna’s shoulders. “I thought you hadn’t started selecting new apprentices, Mentor.”
“I haven’t,” Harry said, looking at Luna. “She’s not my apprentice—she’s my disciple. Allow me to introduce Luna Lovegood, an exceptionally gifted shaman.”
“Hello, everyone~” Luna said airily. She wasn’t dressed like a bird today, but she still wore the beast-hide cloak Harry had given her.
As Luna put it, a shaman should look the part, or the elements would be displeased.
Displeased? Harry suspected the elements rather liked this girl.
Like Hermione and the others when they first learned Luna was Harry’s disciple, the apprentices were stunned. Harry caught Filch clenching his fists, looking as if he’d love to take her place.
Well, if it motivated them to work harder, that wasn’t a bad thing.
Without further ado, Harry began reviewing the knowledge the apprentices had mastered last year.
“Overall, better than I expected,” Harry said after a moment’s thought. “You didn’t slack off over the summer.”
“I spent the whole holiday carving totems, Mentor,” Padma Patil said with a pained expression. “I got at least two blisters! And then, right before term started, I found out shamanic spells can’t be traced by the Ministry… blasted Ministry!”
Her words sparked a chorus of agreement. After a year of studying magic, being unable to use it at home was incredibly frustrating.
“At least your totems are well-crafted now—clear lines, no ambiguities,” Harry said with a smile.
“So, Mentor, can we start connecting with the next element?” Zacharias Smith asked eagerly. “Earth alone is kind of boring.”
Harry frowned at the boy, who, unlike the typical laid-back Hufflepuff, was always in a rush. From the progress check, Smith’s work was the worst. His holiday totem was shoddy, with symbols so wrong they bordered on insulting the elements.
That was bad enough, but to demand new lessons without mastering the basics? Harry decided not to bother with advice.
McGonagall, a seasoned professor, felt no obligation to force unwilling students to succeed, and Harry felt even less so. Magic was a dangerous art, and only those who truly loved it could go far.
If Smith didn’t want to learn, so be it—as long as he didn’t misuse elemental power.
“What do the rest of you think?” Harry asked, turning to the others.
“It’s a bit…” Cedric Diggory scratched his head sheepishly. “What we learned last year just needs gradual practice. You can’t rush communing with the elements.”
Cedric’s words drew nods of agreement. For fast learners like him and Hermione, who had a solid grasp of the material, they were hungry for more.
Harry nodded and looked at Luna. “How’s your progress with what I taught you? Especially the two languages.”
“Just a few phrases,” Luna said, shaking her head. Then, clearing her throat, she spoke in Taur-ahe: “Hello, have you eaten? Give me some food.”
Her pronunciation was a bit off, but it was unmistakably Taur-ahe.
“Well done,” Harry said, satisfied. There was no need to test her connection to the earth element.
“Per the plan, you’ll continue learning more earth element spells. You don’t need mastery, but you should at least be able to do this.” Harry raised his hand and swept it sideways. The earth around him stirred, rising into three shields that floated around him, slowly rotating.
“Wow!” Ron exclaimed, eyes wide.
“Earth Shield,” Harry explained. “A basic earth element spell. No totem required, but you need a strong bond with the earth element—one call, and it responds. The shield’s shape and size depend on your mental control, making the element understand your intent.”
“But that’s just the plan?” Penelope said excitedly.
“Yes, the original plan,” Harry confirmed. “You’ll also need to learn Taur-ahe and the elemental tongue to fluently use the spells I know. Of course, if you’re gifted enough, you can commune with the elements directly and create your own spells.”
He said this last part looking directly at Luna.
“Unlike the structured energy of the Arcane, which requires precise formulas, elemental magic is different,” Harry said seriously. “Elemental spells don’t have fixed incantations. The chants I taught you last year were just direct words to the elements.”
“Direct words?” Draco frowned.
“Yes, it’s not as complex as you think,” Harry said with a smile. “Just tell the elements what you want or what effect you need.”
“No fixed incantations?” Penelope said, incredulous. “I thought the chants we learned last year were… I mean, I even mimicked your tone and pronunciation!”
The unfamiliar language had seemed like proper spellwork to her.
Penelope had even studied Harry’s casting gestures and tone.
“Hahaha!” Imagining Penelope’s serious chanting, Harry couldn’t help but laugh. When he’d recovered, he continued, “Never forget the essence of a shaman. We are balancers of elements and spirits. We don’t force them to bend to our will.”
If you forced them, that would be a true incantation—but Harry wasn’t about to tell his apprentices that.
“Yes, we remember what you said,” Cho Chang said thoughtfully. “But I thought that was just… a way of doing things.”
“That’s what sets shamans apart from wizards, Cho,” Harry said firmly. “We share our intentions with the elements and spirits, and they answer our call. That’s a shaman’s spell. But the languages they accept are limited, and some are more favored than others.”
“I get it,” Hermione said, realization dawning. “So the essence of elemental magic is communication, which is why there’s no fixed incantation?”
“Sounds like it got easier,” Ron said, scratching his head, recalling his Charms classes. “At least we don’t need to learn wand movements or stress about which syllable to emphasize. Seems convenient.”
“In a way,” Harry nodded. “But that doesn’t make shamanic spells simpler or easier to cast.”
“Why not, great Mentor?” Filch asked eagerly.
“The lack of fixed incantations might be the hardest part,” Hannah Abbott said thoughtfully. “It’s like at a pub—those who say ‘whatever’ are the toughest to serve.”
“Exactly,” Harry praised. “In wizarding spells, wand movements, pronunciation, and emotions all affect the outcome. In shamanic spells, the sincerity of your words, the elements’ fondness for you, even their own personalities, influence the result.”
“Of course, shamans benefit the elements’ growth, so they don’t sabotage us. But both types of magic are challenging for beginners or those with average talent.”
For those who master the essence of elements, spirits, or wizarding magic, these aren’t issues.
“I think I get it,” Neville said, swallowing. “So the chants we used last year for shamanic spells—those words were basically things like ‘protect me’ or ‘attack’?”
“Roughly,” Harry said after a moment. “But it’s not quite that simple.”
“So if I want a fire element to burn that tree over there, I just say, ‘Burn that tree’?” Ron said excitedly. “That’s way easier than learning spells!”
“Not quite, Ron,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. “Didn’t you hear Mentor say it depends on the element’s fondness for you? There are lots of factors.”
“…Right,” Ron deflated. “The elements clearly don’t like me much. It took me ages to even see the earth element.”
“No need to be so hard on yourself,” Cedric said consolingly. “Plenty of people in the castle still can’t see the elements at all. You’re ahead of them, Ron.”
“Yeah!” Ron perked up, suddenly feeling rather accomplished.
“Hm… let’s do this,” Harry said, noticing his apprentices still seemed unclear. “I’ll give you a demonstration to show how different languages and attitudes affect shamanic spells.”
T/N: If you find any typos or incorrect names, please leave a comment. Thanks, and enjoy reading!
Comments
ZaChan
"Butterbeer doesn’t get you drunk" I don't know why most fanfics assume that butterbeer is non-alcoholic? Sure, the theme park makes a fancy mixed fizzy drink instead, due to local laws, but canonically, it's slightly alcoholic. It's directly based off of the 1580s Tudor era drink Buttered beer; made of beer, sugar, eggs, nutmeg, cloves, and butter. The bubbles come from the fermentation, like how root beer used to be, before they replaced the fermentation with carbonated water. Hogsmede butter beer still contains beer in it, one with a low percentage of alcohol, but even a low alcohol drink will eventually get you drunk if you chug a bunch or if it clashes with your medication.
![Noah Productions [NP]](https://runfaps.com/kistorage/42432.jpg)
