A/N Hello again! As per usual, I don't own Harry Potter, or anything to do with the franchise. I wish I did. I could buy so many ponies with that kind of money. I will continue to update the first part of the series with edited versions as time allows, and I hope to have a new chapter of this part up at least once very two weeks. Let's hope real life decides not to mess that up. Either way, enjoy. This chapter will be closing a few loose ends from Year One, hopefully. If I missed something, let me know.
Albus Dumbledore sighed and set his phoenix quill down. He listened calmly to the whirling and dinging of the various bobbles and trinkets the littered his office. It was nice to take a few minutes to relax, especially after a school year like the one that ended just days before. He'd never expected to be a teacher again, but after Severus and the million other things that had gone wrong, Albus felt he had no choice but to take up the mantle as Potions Master of Hogwarts. It was stressful enough being Headmaster. He thanked his luck stars that he'd studied with Nicolas, more so now than ever before. Nicolas was a truly gifted teacher, and Albus felt he'd gained some of that and applied it to his own teaching. Alas, as much fun as the last few terms had been, Albus needed to return to his primary role as headmaster. Which meant finding a new Potions Master. He opened his eyes and studied the application in front of him. This person would never do as a potions teacher, nor was the application for said position. Albus sighed again. He only hoped Remus would understand his decision. It wasn't made lightly. A knock on the door broke him away for his musing.
"Enter."
Remus walked into the office, arms full of his future lesson plans. Next term would be a busy one for Remus, but he was fully prepared for it. He set the stacks beside the chair Dumbledore waved him to.
"Good morning, Headmaster. You needed something?" Remus's voice was it's usual upbeat tone. Albus bit back on a third sigh.
"Yes, thank you Remus. I have been reviewing applications for the new Potions Master,as you know, but my findings have been very poor. It seems Severus was hardly a teacher at all. There have been no new applicants for a potions mastery in nearly 10 years, ever since I gave him the spot. I can't help but wonder if Severus did this on purpose, to ensure his… tenure."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Headmaster, but I don't see what this has to do with me."
"Well, my boy, there is only one man with the required skill and experience to take on the role. He has the added benefit of being a teacher of many years, one that the students find in high favor." Albus gave Remus and twinkling smiles. The werewolf paled.
"Sir, I know I have a mastery, but I can hardly be the teacher you need. I am… unfit to hold that job. The ministry would never allow it. Even if they did, I could't buy many of the ingredients I would need for even the most basic potions." Remus began to stand. Albus held up one hand.
"Please, sit back down Remus. There is something you don't know." Remus slowly returned to his seat, frown lines worrying his face. Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"As Potions Master of Hogwarts, you would be exempt from the ministries laws on werewolves. As least those governing potions. Hogwarts outdates the Ministry. As does it's need for a Potions Master. Once you decide to accept my offer, you will literally be above those laws. You will have full access to any and all ingredients you will need to pass along your knowledge. Sadly, this does not include wolfsbane, as it is a master lever potion. So I shall continue to brew it for you, as I always have."
"Sir, you speak as though you have no doubts that I will accept. What of my Defense class? I have so many plans and-" Dumbledore smiled at him.
"It has all been taken care of. I have found a willing and competent replacement for that class. I need only for you to accept your place as my new potions master." Remus though of protesting, giving his stack of lessons plans a sideways glance. However, his love for Defense was only outweighed by his love for potions. He had been crushed when the werewolf laws had come into place, preventing him from ever being able to peruse his love. This was a loop hole he'd never considered.
"You're sure the board and the Ministry wont have something to say about this?" Remus wouldn't get his hopes to high, and he held his breath.
"My dear boy, they wont have any say at all. Who I hire as my professors is my responsibility and mine alone. As it was for ever headmaster before me, as it will be for everyone that come after me." Albus could win awards for the smile that he gave Remus. The one Remus returned was a very close second. They shook hands caroused the enormous desk between them, sealing the hiring with a burst of magic. Remus got to the door before his smile faltered. He turned and frowned.
"Who did you get to replace me, then?"
"Why, Gildory Lockhart, of course."
Draco stared at his father's empty journal with contempt. It was an ugly little leather thing, and looked older than something his father would have used. 'Perhaps it's a Malfoy heirloom?' Draco mused. Draco sat at his desk in his Grimwald Place bedroom, just staring at it. Many times over the week since school let out, Draco has found himself staring at it. He still felt that owning a diary was a girly thing, but something about it almost compelled him to write. He hadn't yet, but every day the urge had grown stronger. The growing distance between him and Harry left Draco with a desire to unload his thoughts on someone, but he still couldn't rationalize using a diary. He frowned and dumped the diary into a drawer with other knickknacks. Maybe the upcoming trip to Diagon Alley would ease his restless mind. In just a few hours, the Black family would venture into Magical London for potions supplies and pet food for Hedwig, Harry's much neglected owl. The winter feathered bird had spent most of her time here with Sirius while the boys had been away at school, a fact that Hedwig had expressed great displeasure over once they had returned. The beak shaped cuts over Harry's eye brought a smile to Draco's face. 'Serves him right, ignoring her like that. It's like he totally forgot she existed.'
"Draco, Harry, we leave in five minutes. Get down here." Sirius' voice echoed up the stairs from the kitchen. Draco sighed and stretched out his back as he stood. Diagon Alley was sure to lift his spirits.
Meanwhile
Harry lay across the floor in his own room, nursing a large cut over his left eye. The vicious bird to blame simple preened and clucked at him from her perch on the bed above him. He really wasn't in the mood for a grumpy bird, never mind that her attitude was his fault. Instead his focus was on the photo book his dad had given him when they'd made it home.
"Take care of this, Harry. They're the only photos I have of James and Lily." Sirius had told him, pushing the large leather book into his hands. Why Sirius had chosen now to gift such a thing was beyond Harry. Perhaps it was because of the journal Draco had received from Lucius. Perhaps not. Either way, it did little to ease the pain. Seeing them smile like they had all the time in the world for happiness. Laughing and carrying on like they had no idea a mad man was after them. He loved Sirius, the man was all Harry could ask for in a father. But looking into familiar green eyes on the page in front of him, Harry felt the pangs of loss. All his life he'd heard those around him speak how much he reminded them of her. 'You have her eyes, her mind, her drive. You have her compassion. You look like James, but you are Lily's son.' Harry sighed, closing the photo book with a snap. How could he be so much like a woman he'd never met? One he'd never meet? He shoved the album under his bed. Maybe he could convince Sirius to add a trip to Zonko's to their agenda today. Some sugar quills would certainly improve his mood.
"Draco, Harry, we leave in five minutes. Get down here." Sirius called. Harry pushed himself off the floor where he'd been laying. He dusted himself off and rushed to the kitchen to met up with his brother and father.
Harry and Draco followed their father through the streets of Diagon Alley. It wasn't a particularly busy day in the alley, what with no masses of students collecting school supplies, so the boys found the whole thing rather calm. And very boring. All hopes of excitement had been dashed as soon as Sirius had insisted they turn out their pockets at home. No dung bombs or fang frisbees to play with this time. Though, given their term at Hogwarts, perhaps calm and boring is exactly what they needed. After several grueling hours of shopping and robe fittings, and no side trips to Zonko's, Sirius led them through the streets and back to the Leaky Cauldron, where the main Apparition/portkey locations were.
"Do you want to grab a bite to eat while we're here? I'm sure Tiggly wont mind a night off cooking." Sirius asked them. Both nodded, almost in sync with each other. Finally, a reward for their good behaviour! Sirius smiled. A quick word to Tom, and the trio was sitting comfortably in a secluded booth. The Cauldron was mostly empty save themselves and a group of about 6 people, most of whom were female. The lone man in the group was smiling brightly, his teeth sparkling and wavy blonde hair so neat it was unreal. Harry and Draco exchanged a look and leaned in a bit to hear the conversations of the other group once Sirius got up to use the loo.
"But of course, I wasn't afraid. Gildory Lockhart is never afraid. I calm whipped out my wand and gave that wood nymph a good what for, if you catch my meaning." The blonde man winked at one the ladies, who swooned and fell from her chair. Draco and Harry shared a disgusted look. Gildory continued.
"Have I told you ladies how I defeated Dracula himself, when I was traveling the Transylvanian countryside?" More giggles and several of them sighed "No, tell us Gildory!" Draco looked ready to gag. This man was clearly a braggart, and quite possibly a poof. The grimace on Harry's face showed he agreed.
"Should you two be eavesdropping?" Sirius had returned, and looked rather displeased.
"No sir." They chimed together.
"And just when that old bat thought he had me down, BAM! I jumped up a staked him. No more Dracula. The celebrations the towns folk threw for me afterwards lasted a whole month." Sirius frowned.
"Did he say Dracula?" Sirius switched side of the booth, so he could lean in with his sons to hear. For the next hour, the Black trio sat listening to Gildory Lockhart tell tales a great triumph and honour. They heard him boast about defeating everything from the Bigfoot clans of Canada to the sphinxes of Egypt, regardless of the many treaties and truces in place to keep the magical creatures in line. By the time they'd all finished their meals, the Blacks were almost purple from withheld laughter. The more stories this man told, the more ridiculous the became. Any man who believed he'd out smarted a leprechaun was seriously deficient of brain cells.
"Oh, Gildory, what's next on your amazing adventures?" One of the girls fanned herself dramatically. Gildory puffed out his cheat a little further, a feat Sirius wasn't sure was possible.
"I'll be headed to Romania, to capture a dreaded Căpcăun. A fearsome Dog headed ogre, known for stealing away children a young women for it's dinner. It has four massive legs and four beady eyes and can eat a man whole. It's 30 feet long with razor sharp teeth and a howl that sends even the bravest men running. Of course, that is why I shall be bringing my special ear muffs. Wouldn't want the beast to think it has something over me." Gildory finished with a wink, sending another girl to the floor. Sirius snorted.
"I doubt that man could find a Căpcăun if it danced naked in front of him. 30 feet long indeed. Harrumph. Let's go boys. I've had enough of this fop's tall tales." The boys followed their father to the apparition point.
"Does the Căpcăun really have a terrifying howl like that?" Draco asked, skeptical. Sirius laughed.
"I very sincerely doubt it. That Lockhart fellow seems to have fired all his braincells with all the hair potions he uses. I'd be very much surprised if he even goes to Romania. He certainly wouldn't survive against half the beast he claims to have defeated. Dracula indeed." Sirius snorted, putting his arms around his sons. With a pinch and a crack, the trio returned home.
Anthony waited in his room, patiently. He bit the inside of his cheek as his father's shouts grew louder. Ever since Terry's owl had arrived with an invitation for Anthony to spend his summer with the Boot family, emotions had been high in the Goldstein house. His room, once filled wall to wall with books, was barren save for his bed and dresser. Durning his stay at Hogwarts, his parents had sold his library. They gave no explanation, but Anthony's younger brother Patrick had a new game station in his room, hooked up to a rather nice telly.
"Magic them back, if they're so important to you, wizard." His brother had sneered. Anthony didn't bother to explain that he couldn't use magic. The almost 11 year old Patrick had never shown any of the signs Anthony had learned were accidental magic, and there was little chance of the boy joining him at Hogwarts. The favoritism was thick enough to cut. The shouting ceased, and Anthony released the breath he didn't know he was holding. Quiet footsteps creaked up the stairs, and someone lightly tapped against his door.
"Yes?" Anthony said, careful to leave any emotion out of his voice. His mother pushed open the door, the letter form Terry clutched tightly in her hand.
"You may go, but your father doesn't want to see you again until next summer. You will be on your own until school begins. Stay with one of your...friends." She spat out the word friends. She was no more pleased about a magical child than her husband. The bible was clear in these circumstances. But her husband, in his infinite softness, refused to throw the child out. How an abomination could come from her womb... the idea terrified her. At least her Patty was normal. Anthony nodded to his mother, accepting the letter as she held it out to him, careful not to touch her. He wrote out his letter to Terry, flinching as his mother closed the door behind her. He attached the letter to Terry's owl, strongly suspecting that he would not be returning to this house again.
Nymphadora Tonks was fuming. Even after cornering them in the halls, her cousins had continued to ignore her. They had gone on a wild adventure, fighting monsters and solving epic puzzles, without her. Again. She paced around her small bedroom. She would not be ignore this year. She would force her way into their adventures, if she had to. Maybe she could convince Cedric Diggory to help her out. He was brilliant at Transfigurations, like she was. Between the two of fourth years, she was sure they could keep up with whatever Draco and Harry ended up mixed up in this year. She sat down and began a letter to her housemate. This year, Tonks would find a way into the Maruaders with her cousins. Or they would suffer at her hand.
A shade wandered through the thick snow covering this part of Siberia. Low on food and magic, the ethereal being struggled along. It couldn't remember exactly who it was, or what it wanted, but perhaps these answers could be found to the south. The warm, fertile south. Flashes of green light and screams of fear and pain sent a rush of pleasure through the shade. Once it found a new body, it would remember. It would find the lightening babe, and destroy it. It just needed a body. A human body. Sheep bodies were uncomfortable, and stupid. No. It would never choose a sheep host again. Maybe it could find a snake body, to make the journey easier. But never another sheep. The shade slid across the snow, the idea of being within a snake body giving it new strength. It just needed to go south. Then it could eat all the sheep.
Severus Snape paced his tiny Azkaban cell. He was growing impatient, waiting for Dumbledore to come to his aide and whisk him back to Hogwarts. Month in this dank cell had done nothing for his greasy appearance and gloomy personality. The charges against him were dire indeed, but Snape had no worries. Dumbledore would be here soon enough. The old goat had gotten off when he'd been accused of Death Eater activity, a little child endangerment wouldn't even be an itch of the Headmaster's nose. Of course, a little child endangerment in Snape's mind was a whole lot more in the eyes of his victim's mothers. Mother's Opposing Severus Snape, or MOSS, had rallied against the former potion's master, claiming his actions had lead to the deaths of at least six students. Snape hardly felt as though he were to blame. It wasn't his fault that they were all mindless dunderheads, incapable of mixing simple potions without blowing themselves up. Snape sighed. At least they hadn't found his pensive. He knew keeping trophies was wrong, but he couldn't help wanting to relive some of his more interesting detentions. The girls serving those detentions certainly wouldn't remember. He'd made sure of that. Yes, he looked forward to returning to his position. Especially with the youngest Weasley child starting this year. The only girl in seven generations. Severus always did have a thing for redheads.
Amelia Bones held one hand over her mouth, face a pale green. She glared down at the pensive sitting on her desk, sickened by it. She turned to Kingsly Shacklebot, the only Auror brave enough to sit through the memories with her. He as a pale as she was, despite his dark skin.
"Inform their parents. Set up a fund for any of them that want counseling for their daughters. Have mind healers on standby. I have to see the Minister about getting this monster Kissed." She ordered. Shacklebot was only too happy to comply. He left the office, hopes of spending a few unguarded minutes alone with the former potions master of Hogwarts dancing through his head. Shacklebot was sure his old brass knuckles needed a good polishing. What better to use than pervert blood?
Amelia sank into her chair, still glaring at the pensive. She hoped that Snape had been unwise enough to leave accounts of every one of his victims. It would make it so much easier to rid the world of his sickness forever. It made her queasy, but Amelia was glad that the bastard's interests only lay with Gryffindors and Slythrins, and that her niece had never hit his radar. She wouldn't be able to restrain herself otherwise. She wrote out a quick note to Cornelius Fudge, the minister. It would be on his desk in moments, and they would be that much closer to ending that man. Amelia reread her note, and sent it off, only pausing to empty her stomach as images flashed in her mind. She shivered.
"I hope he burns."
