The Hanged Man
A Harry Potter Fanfiction
by Shiloh Liddell
Author's Note: While the first chapter greatly resembles canon, and, indeed, uses passages taken directly from The Order of the Phoenix, it will diverge greatly once the story moves on. I beg you to be patient with me as I write my first fanfiction, and to forgive the usage of canon materials. If my formatting is correct, any passages taken from the books with be in italics.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
In the very last carriage they met Neville Longbottom, Harry's fellow fifth-year Gryffindor, his round face shining with the effort of pulling his trunk along and maintaining a one-handed grip on his struggling toad, Trevor.
"Hi, Harry," he panted. "Hi, Ginny. … Everywhere's full. … I can't find a seat. …"
"What are you talking about?" said Ginny, who had squeezed past Neville to peer into the compartment behind him. "There's room in this one, there's only Loony Lovegood in here —"
Neville mumbled something about not wanting to disturb anyone.
"Don't be silly," said Ginny, laughing, "she's all right."
She slid the door open and pulled her trunk inside it. Harry and Neville followed.
"Hi, Luna," said Ginny. "Is it okay if we take these seats?"
The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waist-length, dirty-blond hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. Harry knew at once why Neville had chosen to pass this compartment by. The girl gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of butterbeer caps, or that she was reading a magazine upside down. Her eyes ranged over Neville and came to rest on Harry. She nodded.
"Thanks," said Ginny, smiling at her.
Harry and Neville stowed the three trunks and Hedwig's cage in the luggage rack and sat down. The girl called Luna watched them over her upside-down magazine, which was called The Quibbler. She did not seem to need to blink as much as normal humans. She stared and stared at Harry, who had taken the seat opposite her and now wished he had not.
"Had a good summer, Luna?" Ginny asked.
"Yes," said Luna dreamily, without taking her eyes off Harry. "Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know. You're Harry Potter," she added.
"I know I am," said Harry.
Neville chuckled. Luna turned her pale eyes upon him instead.
"And I don't know who you are."
"I'm nobody," said Neville hurriedly.
"No you're not," said Ginny sharply. "Neville Longbottom — Luna Lovegood. Luna's in my year, but in Ravenclaw."
"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure," said Luna in a singsong voice.
- J. K. Rowling, The Order of the Pheonix
Harry grinned, exchanging glances with Ginny. Luna Lovegood was a strange one, alright. But he found that he rather liked her and her oddness. After all, he had learned to expect the strange and odd from the wizarding world, and he loved it, and all of the strange people in it. Well, most of them, anyway. And so his fondness for Luna Lovegood began, and he was a bit angry at his friend Neville for calling her Loony. If Ginny, who he had always known as kind, would call her names, he thought, what would the more cruel students of Hogwarts call her? Those like Draco Malfoy? He could barely imagine. And it was then that he realized - he had never noticed her before. He had never noticed any students of Hogwarts being bullied, or called cruel names before, except for himself. And why was that? he thought rather bitterly. Why, because he was too concentrated on his own life and little circle of friends to pay any attention others. No wonder the newspapers had called him arrogant. He turned to Ginny, who had referred to Luna in such a way.
"Ginny." he said quietly, so the others wouldn't hear. "Why did you call her Loony?"
She looked surprised at the question. "She's a bit odd, you know? And that's what everyone calls her."
"Well, you shouldn't. It's not very nice."
Ginny looked rather ashamed. "Yeah, I guess it is."
Satisfied, Harry nodded. The rest of the train ride was spent in peace, only being interrupted when Ron and Hermione came back from their Prefect meeting, and of course when Cho came to see him, resulting in a rather embarrassing episode with Neville's Mimbulus Mimbletonia. As embarrassing as it was, at least Harry was infatuated with the girl no longer. Seeing her boyfriend murdered in front of him had rather ruined that particular desire of Harry's.
Harry did notice that Ron also called Luna that awful name, though he refrained from saying anything about it. No doubt Ron would make a big fuss, being the stubborn person he was, and it would probably be awkward. Besides, after how Ron had reacted the previous year to his supposedly entering the Triwizard Tournament, he was a bit wary of his friend's overreactions. Ron was his best mate, and he didn't want to do anything to jeopardize that.
Arriving at Hogsmeade Station, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna departed the train, heading for the carriages that would take them to the school. Harry stopped still in his tracks, staring at them.
"What are those things?" he asked, eyes wide.
"Things? What things?" Hermione asked, concerned. Ron and Ginny were both staring at him.
"Those horse-things! Pulling the carriages."
"There isn't anything there, mate." Ron said, looking at him like he was mad.
Harry felt like he was mad. Was he hallucinating? Just as he was beginning to feel desperate, Luna spoke up.
"I can see them too. They've always been there." she said, in her dreamy, absentminded way.
Remembering her odd behavior and nickname, for a moment he wondered if he was going mad, just like her. But he shook himself. Luna was perfectly sane, and so was he. There must be some other explanation. Deciding that he would ask Hagrid about it as soon as he could, he approached a carriage with his friends, not taking his eyes of the strange beasts until he could no longer see them. It was only when they arrived at the Great Hall did Harry realize - Hagrid had not been there to greet the first years, as he always was. It was Grubbly-Plank, the woman who had substituted for him before. And Hagrid was missing from the Head Table. Even worse, Harry saw that the terribly woman from his trial, Madame Umbridge, was there.
"What's she doing here?" he asked, horrified.
"Who?" asked Ginny, as they separated from Luna and headed to the Gryffindor table.
"At the head table, in the awful pink cardigan. Umbridge. She was at my trial. One of Fudge's lackey's."
Hermione frowned. "But why would Dumbledore hire someone who is loyal to the Minister? Unless... no, it couldn't be..."
"What, Hermione?"
But before she could respond, Professor Grubbly-Plank entered the room with the first years, and the rest of the school slowly quieted down, awaiting the Sorting. The rip in the sorting had opened, and the Hat began to sing.
In times of old when I was new
And Hogwarts barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted:
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning,
To make the world's best magic school
And pass along their learning.
"Together we will build and teach!"
The four good friends decided
And never did they dream that they
Might someday be divided,
For were there such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffndor?
Unless it was the second pair
Of Huffepuff and Ravenclaw?
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there and so can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale.
Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those
Whose ancestry is purest."
Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose
Intelligence is surest."
Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those
With brave deeds to their name,"
Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,
And treat them just the same."
These differences caused little strife
When first they came to light,
For each of the four founders had
A House in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so,
For instance, Slytherin
Took only pure-blood wizards
Of great cunning, just like him,
And only those of sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw
While the bravest and the boldest
Went to daring Gryffindor.
Good Hufflepuff she took the rest,
And taught them all she knew,
Thus the Houses and their founders
Retained friendships firm and true.
So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy years,
But then discord crept among us
Feeding on our faults and fears.
The Houses that, like pillars four,
Had once held up our school,
Now turned upon each other and,
Divided, sought to rule.
And for a while it seemed the school
Must meet an early end,
What with dueling and with fighting
And the clash of friend on friend
And at last there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting then died out
He left us quite downhearted.
And never since the founders four
Were whittled down to three
Have the Houses been united
As they once were meant to be.
And now the Sorting Hat is here
And you all know the score:
I sort you into Houses
Because that is what I'm for,
But this year I'll go further,
Listen closely to my song:
Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it's wrong,
Though I must fulfill my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must unite inside her
Or we'll crumble from within.
I have told you, I have warned you. …
Let the Sorting now begin.
The hat became motionless once more; applause broke out, though it was punctured, for the first time in Harry's memory, with muttering and whispers. All across the Great Hall students were exchanging remarks with their neighbors and Harry, clapping along with everyone else, knew exactly what they were talking about.
"Branched out a bit this year, hasn't it?" said Ron, his eyebrows raised.
J. K. Rowling, The Order of the Phoenix
Harry nodded slowly. The had had clearly sang a warning, which was rather unusual to say the least. Before they could discuss it further, Professor McGonagall began to call out the names of the first years, halting any discussion of the Hat's song in it's tracks. By the time the Sorting was over, everyone but Hermione had dismissed the song. She was discussing it with Nearly-Headless Nick while Harry and Ron dove into the Feast.
Quite contently full, Harry was very ready to head up to his wonderful four-poster bed. But, of course, the time had come for the Dumbledore's speech. Just as the headmaster was beginning, he was rudely interrupted by Umbridge, who they had just discovered was their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Dumbledore took the interruption with aplomb, merely taking a seat and listening to the woman raptly.
"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends! The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wiz arding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching. Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."
"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he said, bowing to her. "Now — as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held …"
- J. K. Rowling, The Order of the Phoenix
Harry stared at Umbridge, quietly wondering what the hell was going on. If he had understood correctly, and he was fairly certain that he did, the Ministry of Magic had sent her to change things that they didn't approve of in Hogwarts. But he could tell that Ron didn't get it, so he turned to Hermione, waiting for her to explain. And she did, marvelously, as usual, until it was time for the two prefects to lead the first years to their dorms. Ron and Hermione went off, and Harry joined Ginny, making their meandering way up to Gryffindor Tower. And finally, Harry was home.
The next morning,, the subject that all of the fifth years had on their minds came up - O.W.L.'s. Of course, prior to that he had to deal with Seamus Finnigan, and his small mindedness - but never mind him. Harry certainly didn't. He couldn't care less if his peers thought he was lying, or even if the whole world did. He knew the truth, and Dumbledore did, and no one's opinion of it could change the facts. But he had more pressing issues at the moment, like school. And when Hermione threatened to not share her notes with them, he was sharply reminded of that fact - and his secret. Poor Harry Potter had grown up with the Dursleys, thought to be inferior to their son. So when he was younger, every time he got a better grade than Dudley, which was always, he was punished for it, accused of cheating. Which was how Harry learned to fake his grades for the worse, a habit he never bothered breaking. He had met Ron on his way to Hogwarts, and Ron was the last person to care about his grades. Harry, eager to fit in and not alienate his only friend. And once he was known as a lazy student, he rather found that he liked. After all, he got enough attention, being famous. There was no need to get more, and be a Gryffindor that could compete with studious Ravenclaws. So he didn't really need Hermione's notes at all - he would have done fine on his own. But Hermione didn't know that. No one did. And Harry planned to keep it that way, at least for now. Because even if he recognized that he shouldn't downplay his brains, that didn't mean he was ready to stop. Not yet.
Their first class of the day was Potions, much to Harry's displeasure. Snape had always hated him, and that meant he was much harder on him than the other students. Not only that, the man outright bullied him. Harry was used to bullies, and he knew how to handle them, or so he told himself. Don't let them know they've bothered you. He had a hard time controlling himself around Snape, however. The man was just infuriating. He was dying to do something, to show Snape that he wasn't the incompetent moron the man thought he was. Hermione too. He knew his best friend loved him, but he also knew that she thought he was in the same category as Ron. A lazy slacker.
His thoughts of proving himself churned through his mind angrily, for some reason choosing potions class to manifest their resentment rather then his usual time, which was right before he fell asleep. Harry stared angrily into his potion. He had already planned what step he was going to skip to "mess up;" adding the hellebore. And when the time came to add it... he did it perfectly. The potion, which was supposed to have a light silver vapor over it, was perfect. Just like Hermione's. As Snape passed her, he merely stared at her potion for a moment, searching for a fault and finding none. He came to Harry's cauldron, clearly ready to insult his student, but merely stared. So, for the first time in his academic career, Harry saw Snape look shocked. It was only for a split second, and he was certain no one else had noticed, but it satisfied him.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter. You are to do this assignment on your own, not copy Miss Granger."
Harry was indignant. "But I didn't copy her!
Hermione piped in. "He didn't, Professor, I would have noticed." Snape silenced her with a glare.
"Well, Mr. Potter, it seems that you've preformed a miracle."
Not too surprisingly, at the end of class Harry was informed that he was to stay behind. Ron and Hermione gave him pitying looks, Harry rolled his eyes. It's not like Snape was going to kill him. The man may be a Death Eater, but he was in Hogwarts. Not to mention the fact that he was a spy for the Order. No, the only thing Harry had to worry about was being lectured and insulted, and he could handle that.
When he and Snape were alone, he looked up at the man, waiting patiently for it to begin. But much to his surprise, Snape merely said, "I'm taking you to see the Headmaster."
Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Feedback and constructive criticism is most welcome, but do keep your flames to yourself. After all, they won't affect me one way or the other.