The wind grazed his pale cheeks, biting into his unprotected skin. He didn't flinch, uncaring of it's sharp sting. A simple warming charm later, and the cold vanished. Motionless, he sat upon one of the higher battlements of the castle, his feet dangling dangerously under him as he watched the sun rise over the school grounds. He liked to come up here in the early mornings to sort through his thoughts in a place where he could be truly alone, away from everything.
Winter had come to the highlands of Scotland, and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was covered in a fresh dusting of snow. As the sun crested the horizon in the distance and bathed the sprawling school grounds a beautiful golden hue, Harry Potter sighed. Even his solitary getaway - beautiful as it was - brought neither solace nor peace of mind. His thoughts were a chaotic mess, his emotions in turmoil, his body exhausted.
He hadn't been sleeping. Nightmares plagued him. Dreams filled with horrific images of people he knew, people he loved, being hurt. Sometimes it was at the end of a mysterious long corridor, other times it was back in the graveyard of Little Haggleton. Occasionally he was even the one being hurt, memories of the end of the third task. Rarer still, it was him doing the hurting. The latter were the dreams that plagued him the most, that caused him to awaken in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, unable to shake the horrible feeling growing in his chest.
In all of them, Voldemort was present in some form, his laugh high and cruel and filled with inequivalent malice.
Taunting. Chastising.
Utterly terrifying.
These dreams plagued him constantly, but they weren't the cause of his current escape to the roof. School was almost out for the term, this week being the last few days of classes before the holiday break, and yet Harry couldn't help but feel as though something strange was afoot; a weird shift in the winds. Something different. He'd gone to bed the night previous with this growing uncertainty, very much expecting yet another nightmare (as he'd been having them more often and with increasing intensity), but instead of a nightmare what he got was altogether…. odd.
Broken fragments of it remained, though not the whole picture. Images of a phoenix, great and snow white with tips and eyes of azure, swooping down upon him. A dusty series of seven dusty tomes appearing before a broken man. A beautiful woman's laugh, infectious and timeless. An older version of himself, looking weary but strikingly determined. Pain, lots of pain, which was nothing new for his dreams, but there was almost a meaning behind it. Less physical, more like heartbreak - if he had to guess.
He remembered these things and none of them made sense in the slightest. He wanted to dismiss it as just another dream, a normal one this time that normal people have, and count his blessings that it wasn't yet another nightmare and move on… But he couldn't. It had felt too real, and while the details of it eluded him, he couldn't shake the sense that it was somehow important.
This strange development was simply the icing on the cake that was Harry's growing list of concerns and responsibilities. Umbridge. Fudge and the Ministry. Dumbledore and the Order. His friends and the DA.
'Sirius,' he thought especially.
Even Cho, of late, had developed into something that consumed his thoughts. And Tracey.. Katie too.. Then there was Herm- 'No.' he scolded himself. 'Don't go there.' Girls in general, for that matter, were becoming a growing point of interest for him, which he certainly didn't need - even now he pictures bubblegum pink hair and a lilting French accent - and he once more cursed his fluctuating teenage hormones.
This is all to say nothing of a newly resurrected Dark Lord and the coming of a second great wizarding war. School should hardly have amounted to much in the face of all these concerns, but with the help of the homework eager professors and the stress of the inevitable O.W.L.s exams, it managed to find its way onto the list as well.
Harry had no one to talk to about any of this. No one save his godfather, who was miles away and under heavy surveillance by the Order. Harry wouldn't dare risk his godfather's safety by causing him to worry, nor would he ever burden his best friends - Hermione and Ron - with his own insignificant issues. He'd been hard enough on them this past year. As it was, he already felt alone without ever having to escape to the school's roof.
All in all, fifteen year old Harry Potter was tired. So very, very tired. So he did what came natural, and closed his eyes...
"Harry!" Ron cried. The redheads shout woke his friend with a start and he cursed his lack of forethought when said friend keeled over in surprise, nearly falling off the roof completely.
Natural seeker-like reflexes honed by years of use allowed Harry to grip the wall of the old castle just a second before he plummeted to his painful and - in his humble opinion - rather anti-climatic demise. The best friends, one now sitting safely upon the battlements once more, the other hovering above him on a broom with a pale, horror stricken face, shook their heads in sync.
"Bloody hell, Harry! Are you alright?"
The raven haired teen took a few breaths, before letting loose a shaky grin and a nod of assurance.
"Blimey! How the hell did you fall asleep up here? For that matter, what're you doing out here in the first place?" Ron's eyes hadn't shrunk in the least, his heart still beating a mile a minute as he realized he'd almost killed his best friend with a mere greeting.
Harry leaned back and scratched his chin, absentmindedly acknowledging the stubble growing there. "Just admiring the view is all."
"The view?" Ron squeaked out. "It's freezing cold out here, mate. You can see the view well enough from inside the castle, can't you?" He looked at his friend as though he'd grown a second head.
Harry shrugged, the excitement having passed for him. "I'm fine, really. Sorry to scare you."
Ron didn't know how to respond to his friends prolifically far-too-casual dismissal of his own safety - he never did - let alone the fact that it should be he who was apologizing to Harry. He simply shook his head in bewildered fondness for his brother in all but blood, before recalling what it was he'd braved the morning cold in search of Harry for in the first place.
"Bloody hell… Ha. I reckon this solves the question of where you've been this morning. Well, come on. Everyone's waiting for you."
Harry, still gathering his bearings, was understandably confused. "All morning? It's hardly been a few hours, Ron! And… wait, waiting for me? Who is?"
His lanky friend shrugged, swaying here and there on the broom he was mounted on. "Search me. Some big meeting in the Great Hall. Very hush-hush, but I expect it has something to do with you if the whole school's been gathered - on a Sunday morning of all things!"
While tempted to smirk at the lazy ginger and his bemoaning of his lack of beauty sleep, Harry was much more occupied with what exactly could be going on. A meeting of the whole school? Surely his friend exaggerated. Aside from the opening and closing feasts, there was never a time where the whole school was present at once, not even during the Halloween feast. It was all so strange. And did he say they were waiting for him? But why? He couldn't help the feeling in the pit of his stomach coming back with tremendous force.
Is this the development he'd been feeling for a while now?
Did it have anything to do with his strange dream the night prior?
And why would the drea-
He absently noticed exactly what Ron was hovering on and his thoughts derailed.
"Ron! Is that my firebolt?!"
His best friend grinned guiltily. "I was sent to find you and figured I could get around and search the grounds better on a broom. McGonagall wanted to just send a patronus message - whatever that is - to find you, but the Headmaster felt you needed a more personal touch. Said he didn't want to alarm you, though I reckon he knew I just wanted to fly around myself a bit." Ron shrugged sheepishly. "Even went far enough to summon your broom from the toads office for me to use. You should have seen the look on Umbridge's face!"
Harry grinned along with his friend this time. He would've loved to have witnessed her reaction to Dumbledore all but undermining her authority.
"A bit of a special one, that Dumbledore," Ron finished needlessly. Harry nodded absently, his mind awhirl with thoughts about the mysterious meeting, though his eyes stayed locked on his broom. His first gift from his godfather and one of his most prized possessions.
Ron followed his gaze and mistook his silence for disapproval. "Bunch over, Harry. Let me land and then you can ride it down to the Hall."
Harry stopped his friend from landing on the roof. "Nonsense, Ron! You flew it up here, I reckon you should ride it back as well. It's only fair since you had to search for me in the first place." Ron shrugged at this. "I'd like to walk down the way I came anyhow. Gives me some time to think."
The youngest male Weasley searched his friend for any sign of deception, and finding none he smiled brightly. "A'right then, Harry. Meet you in the Great Hall! Don't dally though. The minister and the other guests have already been waiting for an hour; they're looking a bit miffed."
That brought Harry up short. The Minister? Guests? What was Fudge doing here...
Before Harry could pry further, his best friend began floating away with a shake of his head, his ginger hair flopping about. "Don't bother mate, I honestly haven't a clue. Like I said, it's all a secret." Ron said, causing Harry to frown but not push further. "Just hurry up, okay?" Harry nodded and turned but was stopped again. "By the way, just how did you get up here anyhow?"
Harry smiled back, the wind blowing his unruly jet black hair every which way as snowflakes fell around them. "It's a secret."
The Great Hall hadn't been this filled with people since the Tri-Wizard Tournament and yet it seemed far from full. It was the work of fantastic magic, Hermione knew, but she doubted she'd ever cease to be amazed by it. The entire school (some odd 500 students, as well as the full staff and faculty) and now over a dozen guests as well all fit rather comfortably in the expanded hall. The Gryffindor table in particular, on the far side of the entrance doors, had been extended by quite a margin. Then there was the addition of another table entirely in front of the head table, this one of a similar length, but only slightly raised, while the dais that the head table sat upon was raised further. Curious charm work aside, why the need for an expansion at all - and why the school had been summoned on a Sunday morning - alluded her.
All Hermione knew is that a couple of hours ago, the entire school had been woken up by their respective Heads of House and ordered to march to the Great Hall for a meeting. As it was the weekend, there were no classes, but most of the students certainly had plans, so the order was understandably met with some groans of disapproval and token resistance, both of which stopped in the Gryffindor Common Room under the stern gaze of Professor McGonagall. Hermione had no doubt similar scenarios had played out with the other three houses.
So they arrived, bleary-eyed and grumpy, but also incredibly curious. As the students sat and waited, taking in the changes to the Great Hall, murmurs and rumors flew from friend to friend, peer to peer. Noise began building the longer they waited, some disinterested altogether, but most began to sit in anticipation. All questions directed at a member of the staff on the matter were promptly rebuffed, though by the looks on their increasingly worried and impatient faces, they too were left out of the loop. That plus the fact that every student in the school was present except for Harry, something others were beginning to pick up on as well, caused Hermione to look at Ron in worry.
Then the doors to the Great Hall had opened and the Headmaster himself lead a party of over a dozen people - many of whom she recognized, a few she didn't - into the Hall and had them sit either at the new table just below the staff's or at the expanded Gryffindor table, while Dumbledore himself set in the center of the head table. The group of individuals, each more different than the next, seemed to be just as confused as the students and staff, but the guests took their preferred seats nonetheless.
So here they were. Sitting in relative silence, waiting for Ron to return with Harry - how her best friend always managed to get himself into these awkward situations, she'd never know - and mulling over the possibilities of what such a meeting could entail if it included Dumbledore, Fudge, and the Head of the DMLE.
Seated at the staff table, from left to right (Slytherin table and entrance to Gryffindor table and far wall) was the ever-scowling Severus Snape, who looked more dour than usual; Dolores Umbridge, sneering at the hall in general and sending scathing looks to the Headmaster, no doubt for being left out of the loop; the beautiful Septima Vector and exotic Aurora Sinistra, conversing in quiet tones with one another; her wonderful Runes professor, Bathsheda Babbling; Filius Flitwick, eagerly looking around the hall just as Hermione was; a stoic Albus Dumbledore, though with a surprisingly bright twinkle in his eye; a frowning Minerva McGonagall, speaking with the plump Head of Hufflepuff Pomona Sprout and Poppy Pomfrey,;just as next to them Irma Pince and Charity Burbage were doing the same, rounded out by a wide awake Rolanda Hooch and a flummoxed Rubeus Hagrid who kept shooting bashful looks down at the other end of the guests table.
That brought Hermione to look down the guests table where she saw Madame Olympe Maxine seated just below Professor Snape, almost blocking his view of the Hall despite the head table being raised significantly more than the guest table, which was in turn raised over the rest of the hall. Next to her sat a beautiful woman that Hermione had never seen before. She looked to be in her thirties, with platinum blonde hair and flawless skin, and a subtle but warm smile played across her face - in fact, she was the only one smiling in the entire hall. 'Curious,' Hermione thought.
Next to the mysterious guest was someone that made Hermione frown. The aristocratic and admittedly beautiful form of Narcissa Malfoy, looking at the hall in a cold disinterest, but unable to hide her discomfort being around so many people who no doubt hated her husband. She sat next to a witch Hermione scarcely remembered seeing at Grimmauld Place, one Emmeline Vance, who was also blonde and pretty, but unlike the calmly smiling mysterious woman and the cornered looking Narcissa, Emmeline showed… apathy? Regardless of their differences, the three blondes were very attractive, as evidenced by much of the male members of the student body staring their way, the other half looking at her table for similar reasons…
Next to Ms. Vance sat a pompous looking Percy Weasley, though his eyes turned sad, she noted, when they gazed upon her parents. He was followed by Cornelius Fudge, the Minister looking perturbed at having to wait so long for the very boy he'd been discrediting for over half a year. Hermione barely withheld a contempt filled glare from the bowler wearing man. He was followed by a formidable looking witch that she hadn't recognized at first but now knew was Amelia Bones thanks to her yearmate Susan Bones gushing as much when the two had hugged. 'How do they get so big so fast?' Hermione thought, staring at the buxom redhead's chest in envy before shaking her head of such thoughts.
Amelia Bones was flanked by Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, the real one this time, she reminded herself, though the man acted no less paranoid that his impersonator had last year. His eye swiveled to and fro, looking for enemies amongst friends. On his left side was the imposing auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, followed by a for-once healthy looking Remus Lupin. That brought an authentic smile to her face, though the great black dog sitting at his heels caused her to frown in worry.
'Harry won't like that,' Hermione mused, knowing he would likely lose it when he saw his godfather exposing himself so recklessly. Once again, she wondered what could be so important that the Headmaster would demand Sirius attend in such a fashion.
Next to Remus sat first a woman and then a man, neither of whom she'd met but had since learned upon their entrance that they were Andromeda Tonks and her husband Ted Tonks, parents of the charismatic Nymphadora Tonks, whom all of them - particularly Harry and Ginny - had taken a liking to over the summer. Ted sat talking excitedly with Arthur Weasley on his left, no doubt about something muggle related, and the guest table ended with a fretting Molly Weasley, closest to the Gryffindor table.
All in all, it was an impressive lineup of guests. A Beauxbatons Headmistress, the British Minister of Magic, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and several aurors, plus the parents of some of the more… notorious of Hogwarts students.
Thinking of students, Hermione turned her penetrating eyes back to her own table, scanning her seatmates in an attempt to distract her from her mounting concern over the whole ordeal.
'Harry, where are you? What's going on?'
At the Gryffindor table, which had been expanded to fit even more guests, she took stock of how everyone seemed to be growing either impatient or concerned with how long they were having to wait for the missing Potter heir.
Seated at the end closest to the Guest and Staff tables, on the left side closest to the Hufflepuff Table were - in descending order towards the entrance (and across from, closest to the well): an excitable Colin Creevey (across from his equally frantic younger brother Dennis), fourth year quidditch fanatic Andrew Kirke (across from best friend Jack Sloper), everyone's favorite commentator and Weasley Twin partner in crime Lee Jordan (across from returning captain Oliver Wood), the athletic Angelina Johnson (across from Fred Weasley), the cream-colored Alicia Spinnet (across from George Weasley), the Irish beauty Katie Bell (across from where Ron had been seated minutes before), the one of a kind auror Tonks who's highlights were changing color in front of Hermione's roving eyes (and who sat across from the vacant chair meant for Harry), followed by a confused but very pretty Penelope Clearwater (across from Hermione herself), an ethereal Fleur Delacour (across from a frowning Ginny Weasley), Fleur's not so little sister Gabrielle (across from the ever half-lucid Luna Lovegood whom Dumbledore had insisted sit with her 'friends'), a slightly put out Bill Weasley separated from his apparent girlfriend by both of their sisters (across from a meek looking Neville Longbottom), his good natured brother Charlie (across from Dean Thomas), shy tomboy Fay Dunbar (across from loudmouth Seamus Finnegan), house gossip Parvati Patil (across from Ginny's friend Demelza Robbins), and finally Gryffindor's supposed poster girl Lavendar Brown (sitting across from notorious flirt Romilda Vane).
Needless to say, it was a full table, and the rest of the Gryffindors, even the seventh years, kindly accommodated the group by spacing themselves out elsewhere. What Hermione couldn't piece together, however, was why they were all there. There were students of different years in their house, a couple of foreigners, several Hogwarts alumni, and even people from other houses. It was about as random as things got and yet… what little they had in common could perhaps be traced to one person in particular.
As her eyes drifted back to the two empty seats on her right, Hermione absently noted how it left the trio, Harry especially, staring out at the entirety of the Hall. Yet Harry always faced that way, she acknowledged, never daunted by the things others said or thought of him. He was strong, and it was one of the many traits Hermione loved about her best friend. Her very first friend, admittedly.
'Strong and firm, and smart. And so brave, and strong, and noble, and strong, and unendingly kind, and his muscl-'
As her mind began to wonder to less appropriate places, the Great Hall's doors opened with a bang and a disheveled Ron Weasley came jogging into the room, rapidly blushing under the expectant stares of the entire hall. He roughly plopped down next to her, in her left side and across from Luna, breathing heavily, as though he'd been out jogging...
Immediately noticing a distinct lack of Harry, Hermione narrowed her eyes at her ginger haired friend and Ron smiled sheepishly back while pulling Harry's firebolt further under the table and out of sight. He'd been gone for quite a while…
"Enjoy yourself, did we?"
"Oh, yeah. It was brilliant."
The twins and Ron's dorm mates all guffawed at his lack of a denial, while Hermione felt her ire spike.
"And..." she dragged the word out, expectantly.
"Aaaannddd Harry's on his way." At seeing her eye twitch, Ron hurried on. "He insisted! Said it's only fair I fly back, while he takes his time to digest whatever. So… yeah, mission accomplished."
"Oh, honestly," she growled in exasperation, the people around her chuckling at their familiar communication issues.
The doors to the Great Hall slid open and there stood the person on everyone's minds. Harry Potter, his messy hair looking a little more windswept than usual, a bit of color dusting his cheeks from the cold, strode neutrally into the hall as though he weren't running late for some secret meeting or being stared at by hundreds of eyes. It was admirable, or at least it was to most of the people present.
Katie Bell, sitting at the Gryffindor table, took his appearance in and bit her lip to contain herself. Her longtime secret crush was looking particularly good today, fittingly dressed all in black: sporting a pair of slim-cut, dark jeans, a thin long-sleeved sweater under a stylish overcoat, both of which were form fitting and hugged his lean, athletic build. The coat's collars were flipped up to shield him from the cold, with a hunter green scarf - the only color in his attire - wrapped around his neck and covering part of his face
His outfit, the color of his jet-black hair and dazzling eyes, would have appeared out of place on him only a couple of years prior, but something had occurred during Harry's third year - Katie's fourth - and by the following year he had discarded his large and rather dated clothes (why he wore them in the first place was beyond her) in lieu of far more fashionable wear.
Also during her fifth year and his fourth, Harry had shot up like a weed, now standing over everyone in his year, Dean Thomas included, with the exception of the high but lanky Ron Weasley. Tall, fit, well dressed, and positively mysterious; in that moment - and many others - Harry Potter was everything.
With a quick glance around the hall, Katie could see that many of the girls - even Alicia, who sat next to her and tried to hide from her not-so-secret boyfriend's affronted look - seemed to be drinking in Harry's tall, dark form as he walked comfortably towards their table. Even some of the guests, like the veela and the strange auror woman, seemed to be looking at him with more than just curiosity.
The boys of the hall, however, let out groans. If not at his unknowing effect on the girls of the hall - Harry's obliviousness being the stuff of legend - then at the fact that he was, quite frankly, rather late. Breakfast had only appeased the teenagers for so long, after all. Even the likes of Fred and George's younger brother Ron, bottomless though he was, had eventually grown tired of eating and volunteered to search for his wayward friend.
Harry's eyes swept across the table, registering each of the new faces present as well as the changes to the hall. He admirably did not falter in his path, though he did narrow his eyes when he spotted the large black dog at the head table, and didn't stop until he was across from the the unlikely trio of older women sitting across from him - this Auror Tonks woman Katie had just met, the former Ravenclaw Head Girl Penelope Clearwater, and his fellow Triwizard Champion, Fleur Delacour - wherein he audibly gulped for reasons unknown, but it made the boys around him laugh pleasantly all the same.
He exchanged greetings with everyone present - strangers, guests, Weasley's and all - not pompously so, but warm and friendly, save for Seamus Finnegan whom he simply nodded at with a neutral expression said boy nodding back hesitantly. When his gaze finally turned to her, Katie couldn't help but blush and he cocked his head ever so slightly in concern, which only caused her to smile and blush further.
"Alright there, Bell?"
His tone was amused but his eyes looked a little worried and it made her feel special, even if Katie knew he would hold the same concern for almost anyone at their table.
"Yeah, though maybe not as good as you. What, get lost on the way?"
She teased him, and the worry vanished from his eyes, replaced with a sly look. He opened his mouth to answer her - unaware of the way the girls across from him, and even Ginny Weasley, stared at her with varying looks causing her to fidget - when he was rudely cut off by a snide voice.
"Yes, Potter. Do regale us with your adventures this morning."
It was Snape. No one had seen the man approach, seemingly appearing from the shadows of the far wall to pounce upon the unfortunate Potter scion.
"Clearly they must have been of the utmost importance if they led you to keep the rest of us waiting here and twiddling our thumbs like a bunch of dunderheads," the potions master drawled though there was indeed venom in his voice.
No one seemed to appreciate being referred to as a dunderhead, though Katie noted that the Longbottom kid in particular seemed to shrink on himself. Harry, in direct contrast, seemed completely unfazed if a little annoyed that he'd interrupted their banter.
"Good morning to you too, sir."
Dean Thomas and Ron Weasley snorted and Snape's eyes narrowed. By now, the entire hall was focused on the greasy haired man and the aberrant Boy-Who-Lived.
"Arrogant, Potter, just like your father. He too had little appreciation for the time and efforts of others." Harry opened his mouth to retort but Snape bullied on. "You may not have anything of interest in your fame-filled days, but the rest of us actually have work to do."
"Writing instructions on a board can't be that hard," George muttered to Fred, and Katie stared at them in horror, glad that Snape had been too busy glaring at an oddly silent Harry to hear them. The large black dog at the guest table had its teeth bared and it was growling, and Harry stared at it with an unreadable expression causing Snape to continue.
"Well!? What have you been doing? Or, more importantly, why are we all here?"
Harry turned steadily back to the man. "I haven't the faintest."
Snape's lips curled, clearly not believing Harry, but at a gentle cough from the Headmaster the Head of Slytherin House stepped back with a final parting word at his least favorite student. "Have it your way, Potter."
"Alright." The word couldn't have been said any more disinterestedly, Katie felt, trying to fight a smirk. A few of the boys had no such reservations.
Once again the professor stopped and turned to Harry. "Alright, sir." Snape emphasized the word 'sir' rather audibly, causing a few of the guests and professors to frown at his blatant harassing of their friend or student.
"Oh, there's no need to call me sir, professor."
Harry's innocent comment was met with sudden laughs from everyone except Umbridge, the Minister, and a few of the more composed adults; barking from the large black dog sitting next to an amused Professor Lupin, loud peels of laughter and shy giggles from across the entire student body, loud guffaws from the twins and oddly enough Mad-Eye Moody, and even spit-out pumpkin juice from Charlie Weasley and Dean Thomas, who were both in the middle of drinking when Harry fired back.
Snape, for his part, was looking murderous. His eyes bulged out almost dangerously so and he made to open his mouth when he was interrupted once more, this time by something far less amicable than the Headmaster's cough.
"Hem-hem."
A shiver of revulsion rippled through the hall that the guests caught on to, no doubt bewildered as to why such a small woman had such a profound effect, even as Umbridge stood from her seat at the staff table and spoke.
"Ten points from Gryffindor for talking back to your betters." No one seemed particularly keen on the way the woman said betters, and the Gryffindor table in particular - as well as members of the DA around the hall - glared at the horrible woman. "Now, if Professor Snape would return to his seat, we may begin the reading."
"What reading?" came the thickly accented voice of Seamus Finnegan, mirrored by others across the hall.
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore almost let out a sigh of relief as Dolores opened her mouth and spilled the beans to the entirety of the hall, sparing him from having to do so.
"You've all been hearing rumors and stories - lies, all of it - about the return of a certain You-Know-Who." As one the students turned to look at Harry who stared stonily at Umbridge. Dumbledore could feel the wheels turning in the boy's head, wondering where his so-called Defense Professor was headed with this. "Well now… now it's time to prove it."
The students and this time the staff and guests all looked puzzled at that. No one knew of what had transpired two nights ago, except for himself and Perenelle, who seemed to be watching the proceedings with much amusement. No doubt she solved for herself that Albus had given Umbridge just enough information for her to not only not derail this meeting, but to progress it even further, with vigor, while simultaneously taking all of the credit (read: blame) for herself in front of the Minister.
He could almost smile, but that would have contrasted far too much with the frowns of uncertainty on everyone else's face.
"We've come upon a series of books detailing the life of Mister Potter. Every thought, every action, every lie."
She seemed incredibly excited, but her reveal was met by looks of dumbfoundment and even a few laughs, as no one took the woman seriously. Some figured she was referring to books found on his early life, Harry no doubt among them as Albus saw the boy snort in exasperation, his friends consoling him with smiles of their own. Even the students and adults who actively disliked Mister Potter, and Albus was glad to see they were surprisingly few, felt Umbridge's claims were delusional ravings. The sight seemed to infuriate Umbridge, now embarrassed in front of a thoroughly confused Fudge, causing her to turn to the Headmaster with a look of utmost loathing, as though to say "A little help?"
Albus, with painstakingly slow movements, rose from his chair and raised his wand. He felt conflicted at the moment. Happy - joyous even - that the truth was finally going to come out and at the end of the day the world would be better for it, and Harry…. Well, he could only hope the boy whom he'd taken such a fond liking to would be better than alright as well. He also felt sad that such an invasion of privacy needed to come to pass in order to better secure the future, and sorrowful that it was once more at the expense of the orphaned child who'd never asked for any of this to happen and deserved so much better. He felt shame at the ways in which he'd manipulated everything, even Umbridge in this particular case. Lastly, he felt conviction and a flow of courage to shoulder the hate he would undoubtedly receive before the reading was through.
'For a better future… for the greater good.'
"It's true," he said at last into the growing buzz of noise in the hall. Silence followed his statement. "I'm afraid that by ways of a -truly- miraculous feat of magic, assisted by this lovely creature here...," At this there was a flash of light and a giant phoenix, twice the size of Fawkes, erupted into being above the staff table. It's wingspan a couple of meters long, it hovered as the entire hall stared at it in unfiltered awe, it's body white as snow, its feathers and crown trimmed with a vibrant azure, the same color as its intelligent eyes. In its claws was a package which it dropped onto the head table in front of Albus, which began unfurling itself to reveal seven floating leatherbound tomes to the hall. "...we now have seven books, one for each year at Hogwarts you might say, chronicling the life and times of Mister Potter. His thoughts, his deeds, his truths." Albus emphasized the counterpoint to Umbridge's claims, causing said woman to narrow her eyes.
Around the hall, reactions differed. The truth was said by Albus Dumbledore, arguably the greatest living magical mind, but even the aged wizard couldn't conjure up something so ridiculous, could he? Even so, the mere thought caused excited or anxious murmuring to break out. The Gryffindor table, particularly the guests there, seemed baffled - surely such an obviously ridiculous thing was fake. They looked to the subject in question for his reaction, but he remained silent, his gaze on the Headmaster who for once returned it longer than a few seconds this year, and this brought Harry up short before he shook his head, not able to believe such an outlandish thing.
Even Albus' own staff was looking at him as though he'd gone loopy. It was only when the Minister of Magic began to rise, citing this was a waste of time, did the Headmaster shoot a loud set of sparks into the air to quiet the rabble and make his point known to all.
"I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, do hereby upon my magic and my life, swear that these books - the contents therein and their arrival from the future - are not a fabrication but indeed the unabashed truth of the matter. These are the thoughts and feats of Harry James Potter, with no embellishment, filtering, or tampering, sent back to us in the hopes of avoiding unspeakable loss in the dark years to come. So mote it be."
Silence reigned.
The hall sat stunned. Even those who had never heard of the esoteric form of vow the Headmaster had just used - the Solemn Swear, a variant of the Unbreakable Vow - were aware that something drastic had just occurred. Amelia Bones' monocle fell out of her eye, Fudge looked to have wet himself, McGonagall and the rest of the staff paled as they looked to their leader in abject disbelief. Worst of all was Umbridge's reaction, a long, wide, nasty smile spreading across her face.
Every student, teacher, and guest felt the tendrils of magic take root upon them as Dumbledore's vow connected to every one of their cores. This required an almost ungodly amount of power, and the mystery phoenix had to facilitate the aged Headmaster, even as he used the ambient magic the school fed him to bolster his reserves, Hogwarts almost eager in its aid, as though it wanted the reading to be done as well. The mere drain and the insane risk necessary to take the Solemn Swear is why it's not largely used in trials, let alone casually. It's hard magic, esoteric as well and paid for dearly at the slightest of errors, but in some cases… it was worth it.
As everyone felt the sustained connection to the Headmaster, who then waved his wand and conjured a gentle snowfall to descend on the hall, the words spoken took hold in each of them - even those too young to understand - and ingrained themselves as absolute truth.
Then the hall exploded all at once.
Amidst the cacophony of noise battering around in the Great Hall, the world was oddly silent to him. He could see tankards and goblets being flipped, see spit flying as people yelled and screamed their throats hoarse. But none of it really registered, so shocked was he. After all, how does one cope knowing that somehow, someway, a series of books capturing your times at the school you currently attend, were sent back and were about to be read out to hundreds of people. Your friends, your enemies, your secret crushes (oh bugger!), people you see in the halls and in classes and during meals, even complete strangers - they would all find out about your deepest darkest secrets.
Harry Potter tried to wake up from this nightmare, truly tried clearing his mind, pinching himself, anything - but to no avail.
"That's horrible!" cried Susan Bones, standing from her seat along with most of the hall.
Long had she watched Harry Potter, her childhood crush, as she attended Hogwarts alongside him and his friends. While the crush for the Boy-Who-Lived had faded in time, her affection for Harry Potter the person - Harry Potter the seeker, the Triwizard champion, the leader of the DA, the same Harry Potter who always smiled at her in class and waved innocently in the halls… well, it had blossomed, to say the least. While she'd be lying if she'd said she wasn't curious about some of the rumors she'd heard about him, she didn't want to learn the truth at the cost of losing all of his privacy. It was barbaric, and looking around, Susan noted that over half of the student body were firmly against it - an unsurprising amount of them witches.
Her friend Hannah was standing as well, no longer the shy Hufflepuff, but instead a fierce debater, as she got into it with their friend Justin Finch-Fletchley and housemate Zacharias Smith.
"But we'll finally find out the truth of what happened the night of the Third Task!"
"Harry already told us what happened. Are you saying you don't believe him?!" Hannah's startling blue eyes, a shade lighter than Susan's own cerulean ones, were narrowed into slits at their muggleborn friend.
"No, not at all! I trust him. Hell, I like the guy! I just need to know."
"Why?"
"Because Potter could just as well be lying, Abbott," drawled the imperious voice of Zacharias Smith.
Now Susan joined in. "Funny, you don't seem to be all too vocal about him being a liar in the DA, Smith."
"I'm there for the tutoring," he sneered. "Not to be his friend and pretend he's some saint. The blokes got way too many secrets."
"He is a saint compared to the likes of you, Smith!" snarled Hannah, surprising everyone in their vicinity. Ernie Macmillan stopped his own debate with Ravenclaw Anthony Goldstein to look at her with wide eyes. "And he's entitled to his privacy. Harry is a good person and he doesn't deserve this. Not after everything he's been through. Imagine how you would feel, your life being read out like this."
Now Justin looked down, as did others who had been all for the reading, but he spoke in a quiet voice all the same, "I need to know what happened in my second year, Hannah."
Susan turned on him, heedless of his hunched stance. "It wasn't Harry!"
"I know that!" Justin yelled back, as defensive as anyone had seen him. "As much as I can 'know' anything, I can see the truth in his eyes. But… But he knows who petrified me, or rather what petrified me. And he won't say, not outright anyway. I need closure and this may be the only way to get it."
Some nodded morosely at that, but others were undeterred.
"You could have asked him at any time, Justin. You were just too much of a coward." Hannah scoffed, now joined by fellow 'Puffs Megan Jones and Leanne Thompson who nodded with her.
Susan was taken aback by how ardently her friend defended Harry, though she shouldn't have been surprised. After the fiasco of their second year, wherein most of them had assumed the worst about Harry, something had happened that caused the normally timid blonde to come out of her shell a bit more, not to mention grow hopelessly infatuated with Harry and incredibly apologetic all at once. She was one of the few Hufflepuffs who didn't join the Harry-hate train when his name came out of the goblet.
A small part of Susan felt Hannah was projecting her own cowardness onto Justin, having wanted to ask her crush out to a Hogsmeade weekend many a night and backing out each time.
Regardless, Justin hung his head in an admission of guilt and shame, and the rest of their fellow fifth year 'Puffs quieted down, seemingly all in agreement on the matter. That is, with the exception of Smith who merely sneered, and his timid girlfriend Sally-Anne, who seemed mixed on the issue.
For a brief second, Susan evaluated her friend. Hannah was pretty, there was no denying that. Tall for her age, standing a fair 172cm, she had a thin if not athletic build, long pale blonde hair, and a pretty face with beautiful blue eyes. She was also smart and loyal and fun, most things a boy would want in a girl. Susan then compared herself to her friend, looking over her own assets.
She was even taller, standing at a disconcerting 176cm, taller and broader in shoulders than most of the boys in her year. Despite this she was in fit shape, curvy, with wide hips and admittedly troublesome breasts. Her own blue eyes were sought after by many boys, and her deep red hair made her stand out in a crowd. Yes, Susan could admit she was rather beautiful, but not for the first time she wondered if it would be enough for her crush.
Looking around the hall and spotting all the looks of sympathy and longing being sent towards Harry, who still looked to be thoroughly shell-shocked, she had quite a bit of competition, and most of them were no slouches in the looks department.
She shook her head to rid herself of these tasteless thoughts as the image of a broken Harry registered in her mind. 'Damn you, Umbridge.'
Surely, there must be something her aunt could do…
There wasn't. Tracey Davis tried searched for a single part of her that wasn't remotely curious about the last living Potter - and the source of her secret affection - and she just couldn't find a shred of dignity to say otherwise. She wanted to know more about the mysterious Gryffindor and here, finally, was her chance.
Then she saw the shocked, broken look on his face from across the hall, and her bleeding heart kicked in and she sighed knowing she had decided.
"This is wrong."
Her fellow housemates didn't seem to share the sentiment, a few exceptions aside. Blaise looked curious, but who didn't. Astoria Greengrass looked neutral on the matter, but Tracey could never really place what the younger Greengrass sibling was thinking. 'A dangerous snake, that one.'
Seated across from her and to Tracey's side was Astoria's older and far more easy to read sister, Daphne. The beautiful blonde bombshell looked intently at Harry, but she didn't look pleased with what they were about to do either. It was a poor secret that the party girl of Slytherin harbored feelings for the Golden Boy, which kept her from dating anyone for longer than a few weeks.
The same could be said about the comparatively less social Lily Moon, seated on her other side. The exotic part Korean bit her lip in worry over the development, yet Tracey also noted with equal parts amusement and exasperation that the reserved girl still brought out a little notepad from god knows where, as though to take notes. How her fellow half-blood hadn't ended up in Ravenclaw, Tracey still didn't know.
Daphne and Lily were her best friends, and aside from Blaise, they were the only Slytherin year mates who never cared about her blood status and saw her for what she knew she was - an intelligent, ambitious, clever, and admittedly attractive girl. They didn't see her as beneath them, like a lot of her male housemates, nor did they see her as a slimy snake, unworthy to approach and dangerous to trust, like the rest of the school did based off of the color of her robes.
Only one other person befriended her in spite of appearances, and that was none other than the source of her crush, and her friend's as well. Harry James Potter. A bloody Gryffindor, not that she had cared after second year. He had been kind to her. Wary at first, but not offensively so.
He'd even been her first kiss, a moment she always dwelled on and one she would never forget. It was also one she could never share with her friends, or anyone else for that matter. She wasn't sure if she was his first kiss, but even so, the amount of envy she'd receive…
'Wait - what if the books include the kiss?'
Tracey glanced at her friends. Daphne may have been socially outgoing, but she was incredibly studious as well, and knew more than a few colorful spells passed down from her formidable mother. Lily was one of the smartest witches in Slytherin, and arguably the second best of their year, bested only by Harry's friend Hermione Granger and Ravenclaw's Padma Patil. If they found out she'd snagged a kiss from their mutual crush, let alone kept it secret...
Tracey groaned internally, even as a part of her was hoping the reading would bring to light Harry's own feelings on their strange relationship.
'This reading is going to suck.'
"This reading is going to be amazing," Terry Boot all but shouted to his friends.
"Amazing? You mean invasive, intrusive, unethical?" countered an upset Su Li.
"Or do you mean horrifying, saddenning, and plain wrong?" added an equally irate Padma Patil, who also spoke as Harry's date to the Yule Ball and felt the need to defend her crush.
"Horrifying? Saddenning? What are you lot on about?" Michael Corner spoke up in defense of his friend, Terry Boot, who seemed to have realized what the girls were talking about.
Anthony Goldstein shook his head as an annoyed Kevin Entwhistle answered for his housemates. "Seriously, Corner? The bloke went through hell in the Tournament. Not to mention the rumors about his first and second year? If even a fraction of it is true, I doubt it's going to be pleasant reading for the first years."
A few of the first years down the table paled as they began asking second and third years what Kevin meant, said fifth year sending them an apologetic look when the ire of the girls was turned towards him.
"Get off it. You really believe what Harry says happened?"
"You're saying you don't?" Padma's eyes were narrowed to slits. "Why do you think he knows so much about defense if he hasn't had to learn about it the hard way?"
It went without saying that they were all referring to Dumbeldore's Army, the Defense class that Harry and his friends had started a few months ago. Practically everyone in their year, even a few of the Slytherins, were a part of it.
"Yeah," defended Anthony. "Harry's brilliant at it, and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he's telling the truth, ya know? That he's really seen some things." Kevin and Lisa nodded along with their friend, but Su Li and Padma Patil kept their glare on Michael who remained unconvinced.
Watching all of this intently was Mandy Brocklehurst. Heralded by some as the most beautiful girl in their year, possibly the school, she was also a famous recluse. She wasn't cold or frigid towards others, nor did she shy away from confrontation. Rather the opposite, in fact. She was always cordial and polite, and while she may not have volunteered in class, she always answered when called upon. She was friends with the girls in her year, even if she didn't talk much when they all hung out. The few who'd ever take the time to get to know her, and admittedly there weren't many whom she allowed to get close, would find a mischievous, almost bubbly personality, with a sharp mean streak and a surprisingly dry sense of humor.
As her body began to develop, however, and her looks became apparent to the opposite sex, Mandy grew weary of the leers and stares and envious glances sent her way. She been raised by her father, an underachieving half-blood with a fun sense of humor but little in the way of responsibility, and had long since come to care for herself. Through that struggle, she'd developed a bit of a complex where she found the average male wizard her age beneath her attention. She wasn't high and mighty about it, but she simply felt that few of them were mature or complex enough to understand her, and she trusted none of them not to pursue her just for her looks. Well, with perhaps one exception…
She was brought back by the familiar drawling of an imperious voice.
"Well, are you lot in Ravenclaw or not. We seek knowledge, and knowledge is power. This reading is nothing if not knowledge waiting to be taken."
Ravenclaw's Quidditch Captain and known playboy Roger Davies looked impassioned as he made his own opinion known, and Mandy was sad to see quite a few people nodding along with the seventh year, many of them boys - further solidifying her stance on them. She wasn't one to feel inclined to share her two cents, but she was willing to make an exception for the boy who may very well be her exception.
But she was beaten to the punch, as a thick scottish accent reverberated down the table.
"Enough, Davies." Cho Chang, Ravenclaw's seeker, stared her captain down with something akin to fierce annoyance, a first for the normally placid girl. "I won't stand for anyone badmouthing Harry, nor anyone who approves of this horrible reading. Just because you don't like him on the field, and… you don't even know him! He's kind, and honest, and strong, and he doesn't deserve to have his life spilled. Especially not behind some veneer of knowledge. Your words are hollow, Davies, just like your heart."
The rumors regarding his poor performance with the breathtaking Fleur Delacour last Christmas were widely known.
Roger looked furious with his team's seeker but she turned from him to Michael Corner, who shrunk under the petite girl's fierce glare. "And you're even worse, Corner! After all Harry's done for us, you're going to put his character in question? Do you even like the DA, or are you just going so you can hook up with Ginny Weasley?"
Her accusation was whispered so as not to be heard by the other houses, but it made Michael blush beet red regardless, all but confirming his intentions to the table. Terry, Anthony, Kevin, Lisa, Padma, Su, and Mandy herself shook their heads in disapproval and disgust at their housemate. Only Morag seemed unbothered by the whole thing, but Mandy considered her apathetic to just about everything not involving quidditch or Herbology.
Cho sneered in disgust at Corner and promptly ignored Roger Davis prodding question of what she meant by all the things Harry had done for them, causing the womanizer to grit his teeth, and his friends Jason Samuels and Duncan Inglebee to laugh at his misfortune.
Mandy gave Cho a scrutinizing look. The petite chinese girl was gorgeous, with long black hair, plump lips, and a rather perky set of assets for her size, not to mention her perfect apple bottom. Objectively, Mandy felt Cho may have been more attractive than she was, and the older girl certainly was a lot more experienced and significantly closer to Harry Potter than most others were. It was no secret that he had asked her out for a date for last years Yule Ball, and only her previous acceptance of Cedric Diggory's offer had rebuffed the Gryffindor seeker. Now that she was a free agent, however…
Mandy narrowed her eyes at the scottish native, and she wasn't the only one, with Padma Patil - Harry's actual date to the Yule Ball - joining her. Apparently it had been more than just a one night stand as far as the caramel colored girl was concerned.
Scoping the hall out, Mandy's discerning eye picked out the likes of Bones, Abbott, Davis, Greengrass, Moon, and even Hermione Granger among those in their year who likely had eyes on the same guy, all of whom were also in his secret Defense class. She had no clue as to how many others liked the last Potter, younger and older, but she felt it was warranted.
There was something special about Harry Potter, and she felt that despite her own disposition towards the reading, they were soon going to find out just how special he was. And if he proved her right, then Mandy would do whatever she had to in order to make him hers, the other witches be damned.
Tonks gazed sadly at the boy - not that she thought of him as a mere boy - across from her.
His jaw, that oh-so-perfect jaw that she was tempted to gently cup in her hand to get him to look at her, his jaw that now had a bit of stubble on it - was set firmly. A vein pulsed in his throat, visible beneath his pale skin. His windswept hair still held bits of snow on it from wherever he'd been before he had walking into the Great Hall, further peppered by Dumbledore's spell to prove the vow can worked successfully.
Harry's eyes, normally a startling shade of emerald, were now stormy green, clouded over with so much emotion - emotion that he ardently refused to show on his face but failed to keep from his eyes. His gaze was locked heavenward, towards the magically transparent roof of the hall, and Tonks only then realized that the sun that had previously been out was now hidden behind thick layers of grey clouds.
The storm, it seemed, had finally arrived.
"Harry?" Hermione questioned at the same time as Tonks, the two of them sparing the other an odd glance.
The bushy haired witch had just given up on screaming about the indignities of the situation, not ever bothering to scold a much less couth Ron Weasley from showing his own displeasure at the disregard being shown for his best friend. The whole Weasley bunch was rather mob like in their verbal assault upon Umbridge and the Headmaster and anyone else in favor of the reading. Molly attempted to reprimand her children for their language as often as she herself scowled her disapproval at the toad-like woman.
Harry didn't respond to either her or Hermione's words, which caused Tonks to frown further. She'd gotten to know all of them over the summer, but none so much as Harry, whom she'd taken an immediate liking to. He was modest, gentlemanly, unexpectedly witty, and seemed fascinated that she was an auror more so than the fact that she was a metamorphmagus. He was also admittedly easy on the eyes. Had she only be a few years younger…
Despite being the perfect package, and having quite a few intimate run ins at headquarters, Tonks know it could never be. He was seven years younger than her, not that she looked it or he acted it, and even in the wizarding world that could be seen as taboo too early on. Add in the fact that she liked Remus, who came with his own issues, and that the girl she'd grown so fond of over the summer, little Ginny Weasley, housed a crush the size of the whomping willow on the boy, and she knew it was an impossibility.
And yet, the thought persisted in the oddest of moments. Like now, for example.
She was brought out of her musings as Hermione continued to try to snap Harry out of his daze, but to no avail. By now the poor girl looked close to tears, her eyes watery. Ron and the other housemates had stopped their ravings and looked at their fellow Lion with growing concern. Soon after the rest of the table did as well, and silence rippled out from across the Gryffindor table as the students began to take stock of the silent Boy-Who-Lived.
Only the guest and staff tables remained unaware of the increasing tension in the hall, too busy arguing amongst themselves on the merits of the reading. Tonks idly noted that her boss Amelia, her fellow aurors, and most of the staff - including a pair of younger witches who must have been new additions since Tonks had attended Hogwarts - were adamantly against the reading.
Turning back to Harry, she found he was still staring up at the ceiling but something thick began to coat the air. Alarm bells ringing in her head, she soon realized it was his presence - his magical aura was flaring out. It was practically corporeal at this point, causing the table to groan and the goblets and plates to rattle.
Tonks stared wide-eyed at the wizard in front of her, never having felt such magical power from an individual before, though she'd admittedly never seen Dumbledore upset. The other occupants of the table soon reeled back as though slapped, and the arguing from the staff and guest tables ceased as everyone bore witness to the strange event. Only Hermione and Ron refused to pull back, hesitant to leave their friend in his time of need. Loyalty that a Hufflepuff like her could understand.
Gathering her courage, she reached across the table, her arm shaking from the pressure being placed upon the entire area, and gripped Harry's hand gently. She noted with some amusement that his other hand had already been gripped by a rather dainty one. Not by Ginny Weasley or even the veela or the Gryffindor chaser (Tonks had seen the way both of them gazed at Harry, though she was likely the only one), but by an equally wide-eyed Penelope Clearwater. Rolling with the punches, Tonks shared a wink with the younger witch that wasn't returned save for a grimace that the auror was sure the blonde ex-Ravenclaw meant to be a smile.
"Harry!" Tonks once more screamed into the rushing roar in their ears at the pressure from Harry's magic. Between Hermione's fierce hug around his waist, Ron's firm hand on his shoulder, and his two hands being held by concerned witches, Harry blinked, as though awakening from a dream, and the pressure stopped almost immediately. In its absence sat a defeated looking boy.
"This is my life…"
The voice was soft, but it echoed in the relative silence of the Great Hall. No one spoke, all still reeling from the display of accidental(?) magic they'd just witnessed. Those who had long thought the boy powerful felt vindicated in their convictions while others were beginning to catch on. In the quiet of the hall, Harry repeated himself.
"This is my life!"
Tonks gulped almost audibly. The words were laced with anger, bitterness, but above all else – vulnerability. The look in his eyes when he finally looked up at the Headmaster spoke volumes about how he felt on the situation, and it nearly broke the hearts of everyone present. It was a look that never belonged on the face of a child; a look of absolute loneliness and fear.
"I don't have a lot of things in this life, I accepted that long ago." This statement puzzled some, but no one challenged it. "But one of the things I do have - am entitled to, as are the rest of us - is my privacy. Or at least what's left of it. I've been famous since before I could walk. There are dozens of false books about me, the Daily Prophet hounds be around the clock, and the infamous Hogwarts rumor mill is dead set on featuring me every other week. But my thoughts… my deeds, my very emotions - you say they're all written down in that series of books there. And by reading them to these people, many of whom I don't even know… it's like you're flailing me and stripping me naked for all to see."
Many people, particularly the older and younger witches, had tears in their eyes. The adult males, with the exception of Snape, looked stricken and most of the boys looked uncomfortable.
"You're not just invading my privacy," Harry added, his voice now a whisper. "But those of my friends, many of you in fact. Anything we ever discussed or did may be in that book." This brought a few people up short. Even Malfoy paled and cast a superstitious glance at his mother near the Slytherin end of the guest table. By now Tonks could tell by the hundreds of faces present, that almost no one was in favor of reading the books.
"I'm begging you not to do this."
Harry's emotional outburst nearly broke Dumbledore's reserve at that moment, as well as most of the people who were looking to get some form of closure or dirt from the readings.
Unfortunately - or not, in the long run - Dolores Umbridge was not one of these people. She'd long since forgotten such emotions as regret and had done away with empathy as well, and she saw this as nothing more than a means to an end. It was a chance to find something on the lying Potter brat, the old fool, and all of their half-breed friends, and deal with them in one fell swoop.
"Hem, hem," came the toad women's sickly sweet voice. The younger students and some of the guests felt queasy when they saw the smile playing across her face. It was a smile that spoke doom for Harry, they all knew it. "Unfortunately, that is not for you to decide Mister Potter. Since it has been proven that these books are indeed the complete truth, and you seem rather defensive of them, as a Ministry employee, I can't help but feel as though you may be hiding something… incriminating, perhaps?"
Before Harry or anyone else could respond to the blatant accusation, she turned to the Minister.
"Minister, I think now is the perfect opportunity for us to get to the bottom of these preposterous lies the boy keeps sprouting. We will finally know what happened the night of the third task, as well as any other dark secrets the usurpers might have." The word usurpers had a profound effect on the formerly shaky Minister. His eyes seemed to darken and his face became set in troubled determination.
"Yes… yes, you're right Dolores. We'll get to the bottom of these events once and for all," the Minister spoke with a finality that told others that he would not budge on this. With the Minister backing the idea, they had little choice in the matter, though that didn't stop some of the guests and staff from protesting weakly. The majority of them simply stared at the Minister in incredulity; was he THAT easily swayed. With a mere mention of getting anyone who might threaten his power, he was willing to cross ethical lines in front hundreds in attendance. Not for the first time, Dumbledore noticed Amelia Bones narrow her eyes at the Minister and his Undersecretary.
Harry was struggling to reign in his emotions. He knew that an outburst right now would do him no good, already upset with himself for losing control earlier. Instead he tried to breathe as he felt more disheartened than he had been since the night of the third task.
"Oh, Harry…" Hermione hadn't let go of him since his magic had been loosed, and he was grateful for her steadfast presence. Both her and Ron were his foundation in times like this, but he had nothing he could say to either of them in that moment. Instead he simply freed his hands from Penelope and Tonks, still somewhat baffled as to why they had supported him physically but thankful and a little bashful nonetheless, and wrapped his one arm around Hermione to support her through this. She would soon be at the readers mercy a well, he knew, for all the rules they broke and things they said over the years.
He was surprised when Snuffles bounded towards him, disregarding Remus' cry for him to stay put at the guest table. So very-like Sirius to risk his neck for his godson. Harry could cry with how loved he felt by his amazing godfather and at the same time how frustrated he was with the man and his recklessness. Choosing to confront Sirius at a better time, he simply used his free hand to pet the softly rumbling great black dog, drawing comfort from the proximity with what was left of his family.
It was as he breathed and petted Sirius, and tried to block out the condescending smile on the toad's face that silver-lining of the situation finally hit him. People would finally everything he'd been saying from the start. They would know that Sirius was innocent, that Voldemort was in fact back, everything!
And then a glimpse of a future… he could use that to his advantage, to say the least. The only real concern was that everyone would see through his personal life in order to get to the things that mattered, but he thought about how Sirius was unjustly imprisoned for twelve years and was still being hunted by the wizarding world at large, and he thought about how Voldemort had murdered his parents and now worked from the shadows virtually unopposed. If he wanted to avenge their deaths and offer a new lease on life to his godfather, then he didn't have much of a choice in the matter.
Tightening his jaw and opening his eyes, Harry saw a few people staring at him in concern. He didn't bother giving a smile, knowing it'd come out more as a grimace if he tried. He didn't feel great about this, not remotely, but the thought of getting his godfather pardoned was enough to propel him into action. He stood up and talked over the voice of the hall. "Okay." People quieted down and turned to look at him. He took a deep breath and continued. "Okay… let's do this. Let's read about my life."
"Harry," came the concerned voice of his best friend Hermione. The worry and sympathy for him was evident in her watery eyes. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah…" He turned to the staff table with a face of pained determination. "Yeah, I'm sure. If it means finding out the truth once and for all… it seems like a worthy sacrifice; a crime of necessity, am I right Headmaster?"
The Headmaster seemed to recoil slightly, but nodded gravely. "Yes, Harry… that's right."
Harry took a deep breathe, sat back down, and tried to meet the eyes of everyone around him in a sign of thanks for their support. A part of him felt they all wanted to know his story too, and he couldn't blame them. What mattered was that their actions said otherwise, choosing to defend him. He was in their debt. He only hoped they still felt the same way about him when all was said and done.
"Very well, we will be reading the first of seven books now, titled Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone." Dumbledore's voice sounded out, and mutterings spread out across the hall in response to the title. Harry, Ron, and Hermione shared a look. "I will read first, and then we will pass the book around for each chapter to whomever would like to read next. If time is with us, which I believe it is, we'll finish the first three of these books by the end of each day, though the fourth and following books may take a little more time."
That caused even the staff to look up in surprise. "End of each day, Albus?"
"Indeed, Minerva. These books contain confidential information that we can't risk slipping out before the appropriate time. The guests have already been told they should come prepared to stay the whole week if not longer. A time displacement charm has been activated upon Mr. Potter's entry, over the entirety of this Great Hall of ours, giving us far more time in the day than we'd normally have. Also, before we get started, I'd like to say that everything spoken of and revealed in this hall will be gradually sealed away into our minds. We will all be unable to tell anyone outside of this reading about the happenings in this story without the approval of Mr. Potter. I apologize if that puts a dent in any of your plans for the future."
The old wizard had his twinkle back to full blast and those who knew him could hear the amusement dripping from his voice. Dumbledore smiled serenely at Harry, which Harry actually returned with a shocked smile of his own. He'd forgotten about the likelihood of people reporting what they might find in the reading to Voldemort or anyone else out to get him. He was thankful for the Headmasters thoughtfulness, and while he still wasn't pleased with the man, he knew that the old man really did care for him in his own way. Harry had to hold back a laugh at the look on Malfoy's face which was identical to the one on several other upper year Slytherins faces. Fudge looked particularly put out, much to Harry's inner glee.
"But Albus," sounded the accented and deep voice of Madame Maxine. "Where shall we sleep? Or use the privy?"
Few people seemed to have thought of that if their horrified looks were anything to go by. "We shall sleep here at the end of each day. Magical beds and blankets shall be made available for all of you. To the more observant wizard or witch, you'll note that bathrooms have been installed at the ends of the hall to facilitate all of your daily needs. Meals will continue to be served by our admirable Hogwarts elves. It may not be the most comfortable of circumstances, but I dare say we'll manage."
The adults looked miffed at not being able to return home each night, but most of the students seemed excited at the prospect of a mass sleepover, not unlike the one they had in Harry's third year. Katie caught his eye and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, causing him to flush, which the girls at the table caught, some of them - like Ginny and surprisingly Hermione - scowling, and others like Tonks laughing.
"Enough delaying, Headmaster. Let's get on with it," came the impatient voice of Dolores Umbridge. She seemed to have missed the part about not being able to share what they learned with anyone else, as they could clearly see the desire to discredit Harry shining in her malevolent eyes.
"Yes, alright. The first chapter of the book is called, "The Boy Who Lived."
Harry took a deep breath and readied himself for what was to come.
Everything was going to be okay…
AN: Making another go of this long-since adopted, and abandoned story. Fingers crossed that it manages to stay alive longer than a few chapters this time.
