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HRA# Chapter 76: The Mark of the Club and Passing the Test
🕑 Added 2025-03-23 19:38:35 +0000 UTC“The connection you’ve forged with the earth element is like an unexpected gift. I won’t demand anything from you because of it, and the professors here can bear witness to that.”
“But if you’re thinking of mastering the true power of the elements and the spirits in the future, only to turn around and say, ‘Sorry, I’m not planning to follow your boring rules or taboos,’ then you’d better quit now,” Harry said softly. “I don’t care if you just leave the club, but the taboos of a shaman priest are something no one is allowed to violate.”
Among the twelve who remained, Hermione, Neville, and Penelope were Harry’s friends, while Katie Bell could be considered an acquaintance. She’d once excitedly rambled to Harry about her favorite Quidditch team during a celebration in the common room. Wood had his eye on her to become Gryffindor’s next Chaser.
Oh, and almost forgot—Draco Malfoy could also count as an acquaintance.
To Hermione and the others, who were used to seeing Harry’s gentle side day in and day out, the Harry standing before them now seemed like a different person entirely. His gaze swept over all twelve of them equally, devoid of any personal familiarity, and the words he spoke carried a harsh edge.
No trace of personal connection, just cold, brutal honesty.
Truth be told, when Harry saw that even Malfoy had managed to connect with the earth element, he’d half-expected the boy to be the one to challenge him or raise objections. But, surprisingly, it was a Hufflepuff student who spoke up in the end.
“So… what happens if someone does break a shaman priest’s taboo?” Zacharias Smith couldn’t help but ask in a small voice.
“I’ll make them regret ever being born,” Harry replied calmly.
Smith immediately glanced toward Dumbledore on the other side, but to his surprise, the headmaster didn’t intervene as he had earlier.
It was as if Dumbledore hadn’t heard a thing—he simply watched, and in a corner no one could see, there was even a faint hint of satisfaction in his expression.
Because, in that moment, he realized something: at least Harry knew where to draw the line, understood that some boundaries couldn’t be crossed. Wasn’t that a good thing?
In some ways, he even reminded Dumbledore of himself… Ha, Dumbledore shook his head imperceptibly.
Being able to exercise restraint within limits was a virtue.
“I won’t break them!” Before Smith could say more, Malfoy suddenly burst out with a fervor, pledging, “Whether it’s what you said this afternoon about not forcing or twisting the will of the elements, or anything else—I won’t violate them!”
“Thank you,” Harry said, turning to Malfoy. “I’m glad you truly listened to every word I said.”
“We will too, Harry,” Hermione and Neville chimed in, nodding earnestly.
The group seemed to trip over themselves in their eagerness to assure him, each afraid of being left behind. Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, even tried to swear a grand oath to prove his resolve, though Harry quickly stopped him.
For them, establishing a connection with the elements in an era when such forces lay dormant was proof of their exceptional talent—something far beyond the reach of others. They could see it in the envious, even jealous, looks from the over two hundred students who’d been filtered out earlier as they left.
Honestly, under the weight of so many eyes, even the quietest or most reserved among them couldn’t help but stand a little taller.
Whether it was the power of elemental magic or the prospect of summoning ancestral spirits as Harry had described, it filled them with an intense longing. Having finally seized this opportunity, how could they possibly walk away?
Not to mention, the taboos Harry had briefly mentioned that afternoon weren’t about committing crimes or anything sinister. If anything, they were principles that anyone with a sense of justice, kindness, or a decent moral compass would naturally uphold.
“So what about you, Smith?” Harry asked, turning to Zacharias Smith. “If you don’t agree, you can leave now. That earth element connection can just be my gift to you—keep it as a companion.”
“Oh… I think… I mean—of course I’m fine with it,” Smith said slowly, ultimately choosing not to back out.
“Good.” Harry nodded. With everyone on board, he didn’t linger on the point. “Then I suppose I have a few more gifts for you all… Hmm, let’s call them the unique emblem of our Shaman Priests’ Club.”
Finally slipping back into his usual warm demeanor, Harry broke into a smile—and when the others saw what he pulled out of his dragonhide pouch, they couldn’t help but laugh too.
A pile of horns—rune horns, to be precise.
Each horn was etched with cryptic symbols whose meanings were unknown to them, the language of the elements. These markings formed four distinct chains across the surface, faintly glowing in the dimming twilight with hues of red, blue, white, and brown.
“They’re adjustable,” Harry said with a shrug after the laughter died down. “The runes on them will help you sense the presence of the four elements and make your connection to them a bit easier. Don’t worry—Fred and George won’t be able to replicate these.”
“Hahahahahaha!”
This time, even the professors joined in the laughter.
Starting with the first person, Harry solemnly handed over a horn. Truth be told, he’d already decided these would serve as a symbol for the future organization he envisioned—The Circle of the Earth—strengthening its members’ sense of belonging.
It was actually pretty significant.
“Looks like the horn I got from Percy won’t be of much use now,” Penelope joked when her turn came. “That cost me a Galleon—can I wear both?”
“Best not,” Harry said, keeping a straight face. “What cow grows two pairs of horns?”
What nearly broke Harry’s composure was the sight of all twelve of them sporting the twin horns from Fred and George’s prank shop—even Zacharias Smith, who’d seemed reluctant earlier.
Even Malfoy!
“Fine,” Penelope sighed dramatically, feigning regret. “Shame, though. Do these horns have any other tricks?”
“Nope,” Harry replied dryly. “They don’t moo or roar like a lion, and they won’t shoot streamers. You can give up on that hope.”
“But they glow,” Cedric Diggory piped up. “They’re pretty bright at night—twinkling and all.”
“That’s not glowing!” Harry countered seriously, determined to defend the horns’ dignity. “It’s an external enchantment—surface light! It’s not the same as the horn itself glowing. Don’t get it twisted!”
No one laughed out loud, but it felt like everyone was laughing on the inside.
Harry Potter’s obsession with horns was hardly a secret at Hogwarts by now.
There weren’t many of them, so Harry handed them out quickly. He even had extras in his pouch, prepared in case more students had made the cut.
“Here,” Harry said, passing a pair to Malfoy before adding earnestly, “Keep a humble and calm heart. Approach the world around you with equality, and you’ll become a fine shaman.”
“Thank you.” Malfoy was visibly nervous, the dim light unable to hide his flushed face. Harry even caught a glimmer of tears in the boy’s eyes.
Pausing before moving on, Harry looked at Malfoy and thought for a moment.
“Of course, I’m not saying you should stay calm if someone’s bullying you,” he continued, clapping Malfoy on the shoulder. “Don’t let ignorant prejudice blind you. Kindness and peace don’t mean you have to be a saint. As long as you’re human, you’ll have emotions—you’ll get angry, you’ll act rashly.”
“Save your kindness for your friends and punish your enemies. Make them fear you. That’s enough… Honestly, some people have weird expectations of shaman priests. We’re not those holy-light types, and we’re a far cry from druids.”
“Like what you did to me before?” Malfoy blurted out, locking eyes with Harry. The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted it, instinctively stepping back half a pace.
But Harry didn’t react much, just kept smiling at him.
“Yeah, just like that.”
“I get it.” Taking a few deep breaths, Draco Malfoy stepped forward again.
It didn’t take long for Harry to finish distributing the horns. The last was Cedric Diggory—a bit of a Hufflepuff celebrity. A third-year, friendly, well-liked across year groups, and a top student to boot.
“Thank you, Mentor Harry,” Cedric said sincerely as he took the horns, then added with a touch of nervous excitement, “I, uh, have a pretty bold request, Mentor.”
“No need to be nervous, Cedric. Just say it,” Harry encouraged.
“Well, uh—could I touch the totem on your back?” Cedric asked, rubbing his hands together anxiously, his eyes practically sparkling. “It’s just so cool! Mentor! And your outfit—could I—er, could I buy it off you? Mentor Harry!!”
“…You can touch the totem,” Harry said, his expression a little odd. “But the clothes… I thought you’d all find my getup today pretty weird.”
“No way!!” Cedric exclaimed almost desperately. “It couldn’t be cooler, Mentor!! I’d love a badger-skin version—can I?!”
“You’d have to ask Professor McGonagall,” Harry said, deftly passing the buck. “Hogwarts has its own rules, and I can’t change them.”
“I’m afraid I can’t grant that request, Mr. Diggory,” Professor McGonagall replied crisply. “Little wizards must wear their robes inside the castle during the week, at the very least.”
“Such a pity,” Cedric sighed deeply.
But his disappointment didn’t last long. Harry unstrapped the totem from his back and set it on the ground for the kids to inspect. Truth be told, Cedric wasn’t the only curious one.
Meanwhile, Harry stepped over to Ron, who’d been waiting nearby. Honestly, Ron looked like some lonely old man left behind—far too forlorn for his age.
“Here, my friend, this is for you,” Harry said, holding out a hand.
“Me?” Ron blinked, caught off guard. He radiated a listless, defeated air, staring at the faintly glowing horn in Harry’s hand. “But I didn’t even connect with the earth element. Even Malfoy managed it.”
“I don’t have the talent to be a shaman, and I’m not part of the club. Wearing this would just embarrass you, Harry,” Ron muttered, head hanging low. “So forget it.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, mate,” Harry said, pulling Ron into a tight hug that made him wince. He yanked off the prank horns from Ron’s head and replaced them with the rune horn he’d made himself. “Do you think I’m the type to care about that? Trust me, you’ll be a shaman priest someday—and whether you are or not, it won’t change a thing between us. That’s what matters most.”
“Don’t miss the forest for the trees.”
Seeing the grin on Harry’s face, Ron couldn’t help but reach up and touch the horn on his head. Truth be told, it was a lot heavier than Fred and George’s version, and he could feel the rough, uneven rune carvings under his fingers.
“Yeah?” Ron mumbled, his body visibly relaxing. He didn’t look quite so weighed down anymore.
“Mentor? Mentor Harry!” Cedric’s voice called from the other side.
“Just don’t overthink it, Ron,” Harry said, giving him another quick hug. “Keep it on—the runes will help you connect with the elements better.”
“Right, got it,” Ron said, breaking into a grin as he rubbed the horn. “Go on, Harry.”
Harry wouldn’t neglect his friend’s feelings. After cheering Ron up, he turned and caught Dumbledore watching them, the old man smiling—quite cheerfully, too.
Ignoring the professors’ murmured discussions off to the side, Harry walked toward the handful of apprentices gathered around the totem pole, poking and prodding it.
“Mentor Harry, why’s there blood on your totem?” Cedric’s curious voice rang out before Harry even got close.
“Let me see,” Harry said as he approached.
Sure enough, there were bloodstains—faint red marks from top to bottom, even on some of the carvings in between. Centaur blood.
That day’s skirmish hadn’t ended in casualties, but blood had definitely been spilled. Harry had cleaned the totem, but some stains had seeped into the wood.
“Oh, this totem doubles as my weapon,” Harry said casually. “Don’t worry about it—it’s normal.”
“N-Normal?” Cho Chang stammered.
“Of course it’s normal,” Harry said with a smile. “Right now, you’re all just apprentices stepping onto the path of the shaman. I’ve got to congratulate you for successfully connecting with the earth element, but don’t get cocky. That’s only the beginning. There are still three more elements waiting for you.”
“Though I doubt it’ll happen to any of you, it’s true that some shaman priests only ever earn the approval of one or two elements in their lifetime, limiting them to just those powers,” Harry added, instantly making his apprentices tense up and forget about the blood on the totem.
“Anyway, becoming a shaman priest requires a strong body too. We’re not pure spellcasters, so you’ll probably need to start morning exercises and carve out time to train,” Harry said, patting his own arm.
“Muscles like yours, Mentor?” Padma Patil asked, her brows knitting together.
Padma Patil had been sorted into Ravenclaw, while her sister Parvati Patil was in Gryffindor. Parvati had once stuck up for Neville and even spoken up for Harry in front of McGonagall.
“Oh, girls can train however they like,” Harry added, considering how some might not find muscles attractive. “Natural training builds streamlined muscles anyway—they’ve got their own beauty. Up to you.”
After giving his twelve apprentices some warnings—urging them to exercise, avoid damaging the castle with elemental powers, and not harm other students—Harry’s first lesson came to an end.
Including Ron, the students would head back to the castle, while Harry stayed behind with the professors. Whether the Shaman Priests’ Club could continue depended on Dumbledore and McGonagall’s judgment.
Honestly, Harry was curious about what the professors thought of his lesson. Maybe their perspectives could inspire him in new ways.
“Did my Shaman Priests’ Club pass the test?” Harry asked, standing before Dumbledore.
“Of course,” Dumbledore said with a smile, exchanging a glance with McGonagall. “Whether it’s me, Professor McGonagall, or the other professors, we all agree it’s a profound and meaningful course.”
“I almost wish our school governors could come listen in. We might just end up with a new elective,” Dumbledore added with a playful tone, though his words were earnest.
“You’ll make a fine professor someday, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, nodding approvingly. “If you ever consider staying on at the school.”
“I’ve thought about becoming a professor,” Harry said honestly. “I’m still preparing for it.”
Though the timeline he had in mind might not align with McGonagall’s expectations.
Truth be told, Harry was pretty eager to see the look on her face when that day came.
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T/N: If you find any typos or incorrect names, please leave a comment. Thanks, and enjoy reading!
