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HRA# Chapter 90: The Next Stage of the Shaman Club
🕑 Added 2025-04-06 21:16:28 +0000 UTC“I get it, Professor,” Zacharias Smith interrupted. “The sleeping elements are like sleepwalkers—they don’t even try to control their own power. If we approach them recklessly without experience or protection, we might end up burned to ashes—or worse.”
“A solid grasp, Smith,” Harry nodded. “That’s exactly it. But you’ve already spent some time with the earth element. While you’re far from mastering or fully understanding it, you’re at least ready for the next step.”
“What I’m going to teach you today is something no shaman can do without—totem crafting.”
In an instant, the handful of apprentices buzzed with excitement.
“Professor!” Penelope Clearwater exclaimed, her face lighting up. “You mean like the totem you carry on your back?”
Truth be told, they’d all been dying to roam the castle with totems slung over their shoulders like Harry, especially after they’d managed to cobble together wolfhide outfits that made them feel the part. Unfortunately, their grand plan had barely begun—they hadn’t even chopped down a single tree in the Forbidden Forest before Hagrid caught them red-handed and hauled them straight to Harry.
Naturally, Harry wasn’t about to let them whip up totem poles based solely on their wild imaginations.
No longer a stranger to the wizarding world, Harry knew all too well the boundless and bizarre creativity Hogwarts students possessed—and he trusted it completely. By which he meant he was absolutely certain they’d go off the rails if left unchecked.
If he loosened the reins in the morning and let them craft totems to their hearts’ content, by evening they’d show up with something—or a pile of somethings—utterly bizarre. They might flatten a pole into a pancake, roll it into a lump, or slap on incomprehensible decorations like glowing bits or noisemakers. A Christmas hat on a totem? Entirely possible. Their imaginations knew no bounds.
Or worse, they might invent some outlandish tauren tribal custom Harry hadn’t even dreamed of, then spread it around with deadpan sincerity.
Just thinking about it gave Harry a nightmare-like shiver.
“This one on my back?” Harry said, unhooking the totem and planting it on the ground, resting a hand on it. “Totems are a unique art. Each one has its own purpose. This one, for instance, represents my past—a tribute to what I’ve been through, and my honor.”
“You mean those carvings?” Penelope asked, curiosity piqued. “I saw people with bull horns, and a bunch of creatures that don’t match any known magical beasts… Sorry, I was curious, so I looked them up earlier.”
“And the writing on your totem, Professor—it’s nothing I’ve ever seen in the wizarding world,” Cedric Diggory added, ducking his head shyly as everyone turned to him. “Sorry, I looked it up too.”
In truth, this was what fascinated the apprentices most. If the totem on Harry’s back chronicled his past, then those vivid carvings—scenes of fierce battles—didn’t align with the life they knew he’d led.
“No need to apologize,” Harry shook his head. “I’ll teach you that script in time. As for the carvings… they’re my secret.”
A secret.
Since Harry had flat-out called it a secret, his sensible apprentices sensibly dropped the subject.
“Anyway, this is my personal totem,” Harry continued. “It’s just a record of my past experiences. Beyond that, there are combat totems—you remember what I did in our first lesson, right?”
“I do, Professor!” Hannah Abbott chirped eagerly. “It was so cool! You just raised your hand, and the dirt shot up. In a blink, it turned into a stone pillar, and when you slammed it into the ground, those huge things appeared!”
The events of the Shaman Club’s first lesson had been dissected and recounted by the students so many times that every detail was etched into their memories.
“Exactly, that was a totem too,” Harry nodded. “If you’d been sitting closer, you might’ve noticed the carvings on those totems.”
As he spoke, Harry raised a hand. The soil beside him stirred, flowing upward into the air—though much slower than it had during that first lesson.
“I see it, Professor!” Padma Patil gasped suddenly. “So this is what it looks like after forming a bond with the elements!”
“The flow of the earth element, right?” Harry said with a smile. “The first time I saw an element move matter, I reacted about the same way. Pretty fascinating, isn’t it?”
The apprentices nodded eagerly.
As they watched, the totem beside Harry took shape. This time, his students could study it up close. The once-black soil had hardened into gray stone—despite them witnessing it form from the dirt at their feet.
There were carvings, but unlike Harry’s personal totem, these didn’t tell a specific story. They depicted a simple image—mountains or hills, instantly recognizable at a glance. Truthfully, though, the carvings were sparse compared to Harry’s totem. They circled only the top, while the rest was covered in unfamiliar script.
The apprentices were no longer complete novices to shamanism. They couldn’t yet decipher the meanings, but they recognized some of the text as elemental script, and the rest matched the mysterious writing from Harry’s totem.
Rather than planting it, Harry kept this totem hovering beside him.
“This is the kind of totem a shaman uses in battle,” he said. “After all, no one’s going to whip out a chunk of wood and start carving in the middle of a fight.” He cracked a joke, sparking a wave of laughter.
The mere thought of shouting, “Hold on, enemies, let me carve a totem first!” mid-battle had the apprentices clutching their sides.
Even Hermione, stifling a grin, shot Harry a playful look. She remembered all too well the night he’d saved her from those dark wizards and trolls—before they’d left, she’d spotted a thick wooden totem on the castle corridor floor, surrounded by floating wood chips and splinters.
Ignoring her gaze, Harry pressed on. “Whether you carve a totem from wood or stone by hand, the process demands total focus. You have to connect with the corresponding element through your spirit.”
He nearly added “and the ancestors” but held back—his students weren’t ready for that yet.
“Do you understand what that means?” Following Professor McGonagall’s later advice, Harry didn’t spoon-feed them the answer, instead nudging them to think.
“It means… uh, we can’t get distracted?” Terry Boot ventured, raising a hand tentatively.
It was a statement so obvious it barely counted.
“It means once we start crafting a functional totem, we can’t stop halfway,” Hermione said quickly. “We can’t break our connection to the element.”
“It also means we can’t pre-make a bunch of totems and just plant them when we need them,” Penelope added thoughtfully. “I was hoping we could carve them up to the last step, carry them around, and finish them on the spot.”
A very Ravenclaw idea—if there was a loophole, a Ravenclaw would find it. The ones who made loopholes where none existed ended up in Azkaban—a little Ravenclaw humor.
“That’s about right,” Harry said with a grin. “For combat totems, you can’t interrupt the process. Their purpose is to summon the elements to fight alongside you.”
“And never toy with the elements.”
“Got it, Professor,” Cedric Diggory said, straining as if in pain. “But isn’t shaping a totem from the earth element all at once a bit… too hard?”
Under the others’ watchful eyes, Cedric stood with arms raised, fingers splayed, every muscle from fingertips to toes taut with effort. He was trying—hard enough that the others tensed just watching him.
Before him, the earth element swirled dirt into a pillar. He was clearly attempting to etch something onto it, but the result…
“What’s that?” Ron asked, squinting. “A boar?”
“Er, I was going for a cat,” Cedric admitted, dropping his arms and wiping sweat from his brow. “But it’s really tough.”
“It doesn’t look remotely like a cat,” Roger Davies quipped. “Honestly, I thought it was some shapeless monster.”
Cedric’s totem resembled—well, a lumpy stick slathered in nutty chocolate sauce, or maybe a melted candle. Hideous, in short. Compared to Harry’s sleek, intricately carved totem, it was night and day.
“Good effort, Cedric,” Harry praised. “You need to refine your mastery and control over the earth element—and practice more, of course.”
“That reminds me,” Harry’s tone grew serious. “Never—ever—summon the earth element inside the castle, your homes, or anyone else’s. Not even for combat totems.”
“Why not?” Cho Chang asked.
“The earth element draws on the nearest material to form its body in the real world,” Harry warned. “You don’t want your house reduced to rubble, do you? Professor McGonagall wouldn’t be thrilled if you wrecked the castle either. And outside, if you ruin someone’s home, the Aurors will haul you off. So be careful.”
To these young wizards yet to enter the wider world, this was the stuff of nightmares.
“Wait a second,” Zacharias Smith piped up. “That article before term started! In the Daily Prophet! The one about you, Professor!”
He didn’t need to elaborate—everyone remembered the story, and the photo: Harry standing amid ruins, facing Dumbledore, a towering figure of assembled debris at his side.
“Yes,” Harry said, expressionless. “That’s my personal lesson, now shared with you. Don’t repeat my mistakes.”
The silence wasn’t awkward—it was the kind where everyone wanted to laugh but didn’t dare.
“Anyway, combat totems are still a bit advanced for you,” Harry shifted gears. “As apprentices, you should start with the basics: hand-carving a totem to summon elemental power.”
“But first, a warning,” he said, growing solemn again. “This is a rule you’d best not break—a tenet of every shaman.”
Seeing Harry’s gravity, the apprentices sobered up, listening intently.
“Using the earth element to shape totems directly is reserved for combat totems,” Harry said firmly. “In earlier lessons, I’ve told you how vital elements and ancestors are to shamanic tradition.”
“So when crafting ancestral totems or ones for rituals honoring elements or ancestors, you should carve them by hand. That’s what gives them their unique meaning and power.”
Of all the apprentices, perhaps only Hermione, Ron, and one other grasped the weight of this rule—they’d seen Harry summon his parents’ spirits.
Ancestors—they were real!
“I understand, great Professor,” Filch said gravely. “If I catch anyone carving totems outside of combat carelessly, they’ll pay for it!”
Some nuances might elude Filch, but no matter—he’d figure it out through enforcement.
“No, no, it’s not that strict,” Harry waved his hands, struggling to keep a straight face. “Just take it seriously. Special cases can be handled specially.”
Filch’s zeal was a tad overboard—Harry worried he might actually stir up trouble.
“Come on, I’ve got materials ready,” Harry beckoned, leading them to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A dozen wooden logs, sized just right, awaited. “Don’t worry about the forest—every log you use, I’ll plant two trees back. Thanks to Professor Snape’s growth potion.”
“We’re carving all of these?” Zacharias Smith’s face paled as he eyed the pile. “By hand? No spells? We’re wizards!”
“When you’re proper shamans, you can use wands to speed things up,” Harry replied. “But for now, you need to feel the process and understand its meaning—with your hands. Got it? Wizard or not.”
Behind him, Filch glared menacingly at Zacharias.
“Yes, Professor Harry,” Zacharias sighed dramatically.
“Since you’ve only bonded with the earth element so far, I’ll teach you to craft an Earth Totem,” Harry said, handing each a log matched to their size. “It’s not just a symbol—it holds great power.”
“Can we summon something as huge as you did in the first lesson?” Cho Chang asked excitedly.
“That’ll take time,” Harry chuckled. “Master the elemental path, keep a calm heart, and you’ll get there. Once you craft a proper Earth Totem, summoning an earth element about two adults tall should be no problem.”
“Two adults tall?!” Ron blurted out.
Not just him—the others drifted into daydreams. An earth element that size trailing them around Hogwarts? They’d be the talk of the school.
“Back to the Earth Totem,” Harry said, pleased with their focus. “One key use of totems is channeling our spells’ energy—spells tied to the earth.”
“And as you grow wiser, more earth-linked abilities will open to you.”
“For now, start with your first totem.”
Comments
Samuel S.
Hmm shouldnt they start by empowering a weapon, IT Looks more easy compared to totem creating.
