The Secret Society Ch. 2.2 (Harry Potter)

Read Chapter 2.1 here

Harry felt some fatigue after he felt the new contract take place.

One of the significant downsides of the ‘Pactmaker’s Grasp’ happened to be the strain it put on the one creating the contract. Harry thought of himself as a reasonably powerful wizard. Still, he had found through experience that if he made more than two contracts within a span of a day, there was a decent chance he would be occupying a bed in the hospital wing.

There was hope that the number would increase as Harry grew older, but there had been no change so far.

However, that was a minor tradeoff, in Harry’s opinion, since the spell was remarkably similar to the Unbreakable Vow. While the Vow needed a witness and a focus to form a binding contract, all the Grasp required was a simple handshake.

That was a gross understatement of what was involved with the Grasp, but that was how it seemed to the ones signing Harry’s contracts. All they had to do was shake his hand, and the terms miraculously appeared in their mind. After they accepted, either mentally or verbally, it was enforced by their magic.

That was because all the work was done on Harry’s side. The Pactmaker’s Grasp needed the caster to be competent with legilimency and have enough skill to cast the spell wandlessly. That was without mentioning the magical power required to form a contract successfully.

When Harry bought the spell in his third year, the most complex contract he could create was with a single term. It was generally the payment for the service rendered. As Harry became more competent with the spell, he could add more terms to the contract, which was a godsend since he started to sell information that could be detrimental to his health by his fourth year.

No matter how confident Harry was in his skills, if he were to get ganged up by multiple older students, it would end in his tragedy. These days, the secrecy clause was a staple in any agreement Harry would do, no matter which Tier the service belonged to.

The contract would require the signer to keep the details and their dealings confidential, even under the threat of magical interrogation or other forms of magical influence. The only exception was when Harry modified the clause to allow for referrals.

“Try not to break this one, Anthony. The punishment this time won’t be those minor skin rashes you had to deal with.”

“MINOR?” Anthony exploded in rage, “I-I couldn’t wear any clothes for a week! And every time I thought about going to Madame Pomfrey, it got even worse!”

“Well, obviously,” Harry said with a roll of his eyes, “If you went to the hospital, there was a small chance it could be linked back to me. And yes, Anthony, I would call that minor. The next level of punishment would have been far more debilitating.”

Harry saw that Goldstein looked as if he wanted to possibly murder him. He didn’t want to pay that any mind, but having someone this angry was never good for business.

“I feel there’s some sort of misunderstanding between us, Anthony. I’d like to fix that.”

Harry wasn’t phased by the murderous glare that was on him. If Goldstein had any ideas about him, he would be writhing on the floor in pain.

“I saw in your memories that you were concerned about Ms. Patel.”

“Leave her out of this,” Anthony growled as he clenched his fist.

“You’re telling me that?” Harry raised his eyebrows, “Did you forget that you were the one that wanted to use the love potion on her?”

“And that was a mistake. I shouldn’t have done that,” Anthony defended himself, “But you were the one that agreed! If you were going to do it for me, how many others have you dosed?”

“Really?” Harry scoffed, “All this anger because of a love potion you can buy in prank shops? Stop pretending that I was going to use Amortentia.”

Harry left out that Amortentia was a possible request for clients with access to Tier III services. After all, as long as Harry was willing, everything had a price.

“As a wizard that strives to satisfy my clients, how about we reach a new agreement? Your idea of using a love potion on Ms. Patel was foolish from the start. If you want to get her attention, I can help make that happen.”

Harry could see that Goldstein was tempted, greatly. From what Lisa Turpin told him, Padma Patel was utterly oblivious to anything other than her studies. Goldstein’s attempts to get her attention always fell flat on its face.

Harry felt the carriage slow and pointed his wand at the door to unseal it. “Think about it, Anthony. I can help you get the girl, for a price, of course. And this time, it’ll be completely natural without silly things like potions.”

When the carriage came to a stop, Harry left Goldstein behind without waiting for an answer. It would be seen as pushy if Harry said any more on the subject. Even worse, he was afraid Goldstein might actually agree. Having already created two contracts for the day, Harry would have had to delay his own proposition, which would have been a massive embarrassment.

Harry smiled at a couple of Hufflepuffs as he passed them, noting the girl next to them. It looked like Emma Thompson was searching out new targets. With her attachment to choosing purebloods, there were only so many available in Ravenclaw, so it would have happened eventually.

Harry looked away from the poor bastards and continued to the castle while smiling at the occasional student that greeted him. It was tiring, having to act so friendly to people Harry couldn’t care less about. Even if getting sorted into Slytherin was a mistake for his social relationships, it was a boon for Harry when he wanted to relax.

There was no need to act overly friendly to his housemates. Slytherin was a house that would ruthlessly destroy anyone that was ‘nice’ with its internal competition. Harry has had to fight like a cornered animal since his first year, and after the things he had done to protect himself, only a fool would believe that he was ‘friendly.’

If not for Snape harshly enforcing the rule of the internal competition restricted to the same year, Harry wasn’t sure he would still be in Hogwarts. He could see from the start that the older years hated him for who his parents were and would have loved to take a shot at him if possible.

In Harry’s opinion, they were sore losers with pathetic family members. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t have been slain by his parents when they went on a killing spree against the Death Eaters at the war’s end.

Sometimes Harry imagined what his life would have been like if the Lestranges hadn’t ambushed them. He imagined that he would be in Gryffindor with how often he was told that Lily and James Potter were the embodiments of that house.

However, that was obviously a hypothetical scenario. Not much use in thinking of what-ifs.

“Supremacy.” Even as the word left Harry’s lips, his eyes were rolling at the ridiculous passwords chosen to get into the Slytherin common room. It was so blatantly pro-pureblood that Harry wondered why people claimed Dumbledore was a muggle-lover.

Surely, as the headmaster, he must know the inner goings of each house. Everything the Slytherin House did served as a promotion of the most extreme of pureblood culture. If Harry didn’t have the power to protect himself, there was no doubt that he would have fallen in line with the pureblood views to save his own skin.

The smile on Harry’s face dropped off the second he stepped into the crowded common room. He didn’t stop to greet any of the acquaintances he could see and continued to his assigned room. As a self-imposed rule, Harry always secured his room for the year before doing anything else.

He walked to the boy’s wing and paused in front of his door. Theodore Nott was his neighbor. It looked like Harry had to sleep with silencing charms this year.

When he arrived at Hogwarts, Harry was filled with quite a bit of self-pity for how he had grown up. Having come across Nott’s room in one of the rare times the boy had forgotten to put up silencing charms, Harry quickly came to realize that he was blessed.

The Dursleys might have been unloving and somewhat overbearing at times. Still, they gave him food to eat and a roof over his head without any physical abuse. Nott hadn’t been so lucky.

The things the boy screamed out in his sleep made Harry wonder if the Dursleys were the most loving family in existence.

With a shake of his head, Harry opened the door to his room and stepped inside.

Read Chapter 3.1 here