Chapter 8

Dealing With It

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling

This fanfiction is not for profit

Late December 1991 London

No one slept well the night Harry got home for the Yule holiday. Death had brushed against them all, an inch away, a split second from the long dark. Giving in to the little dark of sleep was impossible.

Mad Eye sat hunched over his desk, the Grimmauld Place Map laid out before him. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see anything on it or not. The last of the Auror's had left hours ago but Moody knew procedure. They would have set monitoring wards. He was most curious what the Death Eaters would do. They might come sniffing around but most likely they would try for Goyle, try to find out what went wrong.

Luck, it was all luck and Alastor hated luck.

Harriet curled under the heavy duvet and watched Nott's head explode over and over. She would wrench her thoughts away but that instant pulled her back. Her men had nearly died. She felt the snap of the killing curse as it rushed past, inches above her. She felt the acid burn of despair as the dagger tracked away from her target. She should have done more, she should have known. I never even drew my wand, never thought of it.

Remus saw the bodies jerk and smoke as the wards fried them, one, two, smoking lumps on the street. He saw Padfoot standing in place like an idiot while pouring out the heaviest curses he could manage. He saw Moody moving like a much younger man, a man with empty eyes.

It was clear that their shields were near collapse, those last two Death Eaters. They hadn't let up though. They hadn't let up at all. Three nearly simultaneous Reductors had pulverized the dark wizards. Bones hadn't been able to determine identity, she would have to take Goyle's word for it. The wolf in him howled in triumph, those he loved lived. The enemy died. He swallowed another rush of saliva and waited for the sun.

Padfoot shivered, curled tight, tail over nose. This was not a night to be human, humans felt so many things. Dog was good, dog felt few things. Alive. Harriet was alive. Again in slow motion he saw Harriet dart away from them, then drop as the killing curse crackled over her. Again he was back to back with Moony, shields up, trying to cover the footballers, screaming at everyone to run. Again he watched as reductor after reductor pounded the shields of the last two Death Eaters and broke them at last in a blast of blood and dirt. Harriet was alive. That was enough.

Bleary and sick, they gathered in the kitchen. Harriet fussed over breakfast, making a mountain of bacon, dozens of eggs, fried potatoes, baked beans, pancakes, loaves of toast. They crowded together at the end of the table eating slowly, Harriet and her men.

Petunia slithered into the kitchen and fixed a plate for herself then poured a cup of tea. She clearly enjoyed the food but said nothing, watching them carefully. Finally, she had to know.

"What was that about yesterday? It sounded like the blitz."

Mad Eye turned his magical eye on her, "Didn't you look outside?"

"One of our windows shows a tropical beach. It's like the BBC only more boring. Why would I assume I was seeing the truth?"

It was a fair point so Moody only grunted, "Death Eater attack. Seven of the bastards."

"We're in danger? My Vernon and precious Duddykins! You force us to live here, bombs going off on the stoop, bodies everywhere! This is an outrage! We will be leaving as soon as arrangements can be made!"

"Aunt Petunia..."

"Silence you unnatural brat! I won't hear another word! Why we ever..."

Moody's wand dropped into his hand, flicked once, and disappeared up his sleeve again. Petunia's mouth continued to move without sound while Mad Eye glowered at her.

"Why do I have to repeat this to you so often? Your choices are here or a prison whose guards are demons that feed on the despair they force you to feel. You and those two vast puddles wouldn't last a fortnight. Here, you have us to protect you. Out there, you have no one."

She left in a state of high dungeon, clumped up the stairs and slammed the door to her apartment three times to make sure her displeasure was known.

"About yesterday.." Mad Eye looked around at their odd little family, "We need to discuss the fight. What went right, what went wrong, what we need to do better. We were lucky. Can't rely on luck."

He pointed at Padfoot, "Sirius, if you ever stand in one spot again, I will kill you myself. Remus, you did well lad. Good thinking using the wards. Harriet.. Harriet don't ever get in a fight with adult wizards. You're eleven. You aren't a match for a Death Eater. The best thing you can do is get clear and stay clear. Your little stunt with the dagger turned the tide, that's true, but having you in danger pins us down."

"I got behind the wards and stayed there Mad Eye! If I had a rifle I could have helped without them ever having a chance at me!"

"A riffle?"

Moony had spent considerable time in the muggle world and understood the possibilities of mundane weapons. Mad Eye recalled the clattering roar of machine guns as he coursed across Europe during the hunt for Grindelwald. The muggles were horribly efficient at killing.

Remus took the floor. "We are in a fortified position, that's an advantage. They can't determine our exact location and we can know theirs withing the boundaries of the Grimmauld map." Remus rubbed his chin in thought then continued. "We can extend the map's boundaries I suppose, the original covers all of the castle and grounds, even a bit of the forest."

Mad Eye muttered, "Needs a remote alarm for intrusion alerts."

Remus and Sirius huddled over a muggle notebook as they exchanged ideas for the Grimmauld Map Mark II.

"Now about this riffle?"

Later that day Amelia sighed as she read the note from Moody asking for an introduction to someone with access to muggle weapons. Mad Eye and MI6. There were so many reasons why that was a very dangerous combination.

"Thank you Hedwig, you needn't wait. I shall need to think on this."

Hedwig glared at the silly witch and settled in to wait for the reply. It would be a while, the Daily Prophet had blared yesterday's fight across the front page and the office was a madhouse.

A few days later, Harriet was making everyone lunch when the fireplace flared and Auntie Andy stepped through followed by Tonks.

Andromeda sailed into the kitchen and began kissing cheeks, dispensing hugs, and scolding loudly. Tonks sidled up to Mad Eye and soaked up the Master Auror radiance.

Harriet underwent her second hug, one she could reciprocate after offloading the knife and celery.

"Harriet, it is time for you to be introduced to the deeper mysteries. I will collect you tomorrow at ten for an immersion experience in high femininity. You may expect cut, clothes, facial, pedicure.. Ah.. the list is endless really.."

Behind her mum's back Tonks pointed and scoffed. Harriet snarled at her, silent, hot eyed. Andromeda marched on, oblivious, or at least not taking the bait.

"We shall enjoy my daughters company shan't we?"

Tonk's hair spiked up and flashed international orange. "We damn well shan't!"

"Did you really say shan't?"

"Shut up Harriet!"

Harriet let go of the rather delicious side issue and began dodging, "I have training in the mornings Aunt Andy, couldn't miss that."

Andromeda peered closely at those who would do anything for a dinner invitation, "Gentlemen?"

Sirius grinned, Remus nodded frantically, Mad Eye squinted his good eye, "The leg of lamb?"

Andy agreed to the menu and Harriet was promptly tossed under the bus while berating everyone loudly. Tonks began poking Mad Eye asking what it was with him and legs. He ignored her.

The next morning Harriet dressed carefully, a favorite puffy charcoal gray jumper, boot cut jeans, retro Frye boots and made her way to the kitchen. Her men were gathered around the table waiting patiently for breakfast. Harriet was home and that meant a real home cooked meal.

"I suppose you expect me to make food for you even after that disgusting display?"

They nodded, one enthusiastically, one thoughtfully, one with a smirk.

"Sorry lot you are."

She banged frying pans and clattered pots, turning to glare at them every so often. They all enjoyed themselves tremendously. Aunt Andy and Tonks flooed in just in time for the meal and Harriet put out two more plates. Soon enough the men were pushing back, belching and scratching, chasing the last morsels with toothpicks, setting Aunt Andy off.

"I despair of you all! Need I remind you, you are guardians of an impressionable young lady! Just what kind of match do you imagine she will make with you lot for role models?"

Mad Eye shrugged, "Damn fine fighter."

Remus nodded, "Superior intellect."

Padfoot gestured broadly and crooned, "Smoooth!"

Andy huffed, "Idiots!"

The three ladies Black were sprawled in a Turkish bath, the heat soaking into their bones. It started simply enough.

"How is school dear?"

"It's been a bit of a ride. Troll and the damn Slytherins."

"There was some unpleasantness about your living situation wasn't there?"

"Ah.. The dorms. Unpleasantness is a very.. pleasant way of putting it. Yes, there was. Just like we thought, it dampened down."

"And you've made a very good friend in that Granger girl haven't you?"

"Umm hmm."

"Have you attracted any notice?"

"Ahh.. Yes?"

"Well of course you would, you're famous after all. I meant notice from boys dear."

All Harriet's alarm bells began to ring.

"Boys?"

"Yes, you've heard of them I'm sure. Pestilential little creatures. Mostly interested in brooms and so on."

"Ohh... Those... No... So.. There's no point in any further discussion is there? Stop that damn cackling Tonks!"

"Harriet's getting The Talk! I knew she was up to something cousin, but I never expected a horror of this magnitude! I remember mine as if it were yesterday.." Tonks shuddered as her hair cycled from white to red to pink and back.

"I'm eleven Aunt Andy! Really, there's no need to concern yourself, no need at all. It isn't something I expect to ever have to worry about, being a special girl and all.."

Tonks whispered, "Won't work. Abandon all hope."

Aunt Andy plowed on. "Despite what you may imagine Harriet, young men will be interested in you. You have begun to bloom and boys will notice. You are a very attractive girl after all. Have you been taught how to care for yourself?"

Harriet soaked that up like a sponge. After all the negativity about her gender, to hear that she might be attractive was balm indeed. More of that would be very welcome. But the last bit, not so much.

"Care for myself? Tonks! Damn you, stop laughing! Your lovely daughter was kind enough to explain what Madame Pomfrey made obscure, so yes, I know what she knows about.. all that.. and no more need be said!"

But Andromeda the Indomitable marched on and Harriet could only hunker down and endure. Truly, she was grateful, excruciatingly embarrassed, but grateful.

Much later that day the flames changed to green and deposited a polished, styled, buffed, manicured, fully informed, terminally embarrassed and freshly togged Harriet back in Grimmauld Place.

Her men were waiting. Smirking.

"So..." Remus waggled his eyebrows. Why do they do that?

"Everything... " Mad Eye shifted uneasily and grumped a little, "Everything to specification?"

Harriet saluted Moody, "Briefing completed Auror Moody."

Sirius, the perpetual child, collapsed in giggles, "So. Glad. Not. Me!"

Harriet left the snorting, giggling fools to it.

Boxing Day 1991 Hogwarts

Madame Bones stepped through the green flames and glanced around the Headmaster's Office. Albus was behind his massive desk, spinning in his chair. Shacklebolt was slumped in a puffy chintz wing chair before the desk, shaking his head as he watched the Mugwump. Outside, snow swirled past the windows, dense and thick, a fierce storm with occasional lightning and thunder, there would be a massive accumulation before it was over. Dumbledore expertly braked his chair, stopping his spin so that he was perfectly aligned with his desk. He smiled in triumph and nodded to her.

"It's good to see you Amelia."

"Thank you Albus. Your holiday was good?"

"Quite good, quite good. Tea?"

They fixed their drinks, took fortifying sips and sat back. Dumbledore nodded to Amelia, gesturing for her to begin.

"Thank you for meeting with me. I should like to discuss Quirrell and Voldemort. My other concern is is the Defense Professorship. Shall we begin with the DADA position?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"Magical Britannia is not well served by the continual disruption in instruction. What is your solution?"

"This is not something that you have any control over Amelia. I hire my staff. I am well aware of the problem."

"And the solution?"

"I have no solution other than to fill the position as necessary. What other solution is possible?"

"I may have thought of something. I have a few questions first. Is the Defense Professorship cursed?"

"It would seem so."

"What exactly is cursed about it?"

"I don't understand your question."

"The teaching of Defense can't be cursed. If instruction in Defense was cursed, Auror training would have the same trouble. Perhaps the position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts is cursed? Do you think that is possible?"

"Ahh.. Yes, that seems possible, perhaps likely. I fail to see how this helps?"

"Have you considered changing the name of the position to something else?"

He sat still for a minute, gaping. "I hadn't considered such a course of action Amelia. How very muggle of you."

"May I rely on you to see the position retitled?"

He twinkled, "Of course. Quite an easy change to make. Kingsley, let me congratulate you on being the first Professor of You Know What!"

It was a weak attempt at humor but they appreciated it none the less. Amelia had another sip of tea, another biscuit and moved on.

"My Auror's and I have been in the castle much to frequently this year as I am sure you will agree. I know you dislike interference in your management of the school but it has been necessary. The failures of security and accountability must not continue. It is evident that you place your duty as Headmaster second to your struggle against Voldemort. Two children beaten into unconsciousness, two first year girls no less? And the attack carried out by other first years? Totally unacceptable."

"I find your holding forth somewhat less than pleasant. Let us agree that mistakes have been made." Dumbledore fiddled with his beard, looking very morose. "Often the most valuable of lessons are not taught in classrooms."

He nodded to himself, in full agreement with the wisdom of his words, then continued.

"Everyone must learn to deal with adversity. To be constantly watched would stifle the student's learning of crucial aspects of our culture. We have seen a poignant example of the consequences of such draconian disciplinary measures as I believe you espouse just days ago. The tragic deaths of those men in London stem in part from the harsh punishment of their children following the scuffle between Potter, Granger, and the Slytherins."

He shook his head sadly.

"Five souls lost and irreparable damage done to an innocent forced to witness the slaughter. Proper guardians must be found for the child and corrective measures instituted immediately!"

He smacked his desk with open palm, a sharp crack, eyes afire with conviction.

"Unbelievable."

Kingsley grunted agreement.

"What crucial aspects of our culture? What would have been suitable punishment for that 'scuffle'?"

"Come now Amelia! As I am sure you recall, point loss and detentions are standard corrective measures. Suspensions are a permanent blot on a student's record and very rarely used. If I had a free hand in that matter, without vengeful guardians watching my every move, I would have handled the situation as we normally do and all would have gone on as it normally does. Instead, those student's parents, already morally compromised, lashed out. I do worry that Lucius wasn't involved. Young Draco was most grievously injured. Lucius is not one to let such an insult go unanswered."

"Let me see if I understand you. Potter and Granger were beaten by the Slytherins for their involvement in foiling Quirrell's attempt on the Stone?"

Dumbledore nodded, "In small measure, yes. Potter was instrumental in Voldemort's first defeat and there is substantial animosity as a result. Potter has been criminally outspoken about matters that should never have been openly discussed."

Amelia looked at Shak, who just shrugged. It was before his time. Dumbledore nattered on.

"I'm sure Potter's holding forth had the greatest effect. We should also note that the dark aligned students have been much more aggressive since Halloween. I believe Miss Granger was merely a target of opportunity."

"And the London attack on Potter was in revenge for the Slytherins being punished?"

The Headmaster nodded again, "Again, in part. A trigger if you will."

"Point loss and detentions would have been more appropriate because?"

"Because such punishment would more closely mirror the reality of the wizarding world thus teaching those involved what they may expect from our society."

"You are completely disgusting."

"I did not say I approve. I do not. I have struggled for decades to ameliorate such despicable attitudes of prejudice, violence and revenge"

"Oh, but you do. You approve, passively it's true, but none the less."

They stared at one another, neither giving an inch. Shacklebolt coughed and Amelia shook her head.

"Don't press about Potter's guardians. It won't go well for you. In any event let us turn to Quirrell. What do you propose to do?"

"Could you clarify your question?"

"What are you going to do about Quirrell? You know, Quirrell? The most likely suspect to have let a troll into the castle as a distraction for an attempt on the Stone?"

"He no longer represents a threat to the school."

"Damn it Dumbledore! He must be found and stopped!"

"If you hadn't interfered I had arranged to do just that!"

"Reset the trap! We both suspect Quirrell is possessed by Voldemort. The unicorns Dumbledore! I haven't anyone able to face Voldemort in direct combat. You can! Get out of that chair and go find him! Minerva can run the school. Augusta can cover the Wizengamot. The ICW can bumble on without you. Who else has a chance in a duel with Voldemort?"

"You are speak of things you don't understand."

"You think no one understands because you hide all information then listen to no one but yourself since only you have the facts. Take a sabbatical and find Quirrell!"

"I shall consider your suggestion."

"I've a consideration for you! In battle after battle that bastard Voldemort survived and triumphed when the odds were against him. Is it possible that fate worked to protect him even before the prophecy was voiced by that daft bat in the tower? We think so. We have taken steps to remove that protection. Miss Potter has issued you a letter of marque."

His voice was low and dangerous. "You are aware of the prophecy."

Fawkes landed heavily on the Headmaster's shoulder, clenching his talons, crooning a warning. Dumbledore sighed and took his hand off of the elder wand.

"Did you think we had done nothing? Yes, we heard it! James and Lily told Sirius and Remus it existed. I guessed at it's existence. Harriet gave the sphere to Sirius and we listened to it. Harriet hasn't heard it yet but she's very bright, she knows there is a prophecy, she will suss out the gist of it given the least hint. It isn't that difficult after all."

"A letter of marque. Most interesting."

Dumbledore read the single piece of parchment Amelia handed him and snorted.

"She wants an oath from me? How very impertinent!"

He stroked his beard while thinking deep thoughts then shrugged and nodded.

"Perhaps this will work. Prophecy is never fulfilled as you expect and I certainly wouldn't have taken this path without your prodding. Perhaps this will work."

January 3rd 1992 Hogwarts

Dumbledore rose from his throne and gestured for silence. The happy rumble of children gossiping died away. He stood before them dressed in a deerstalker hat, a black leather trench coat over a stodgy tweed suit and spiffy knee high boots last seen on troops mired in the mud of Flanders.

"Welcome back, one and all! I do hope that your Yule was festive and that you have returned ready for another term of magical education. I have a two announcements that I hope interest you. I would like to introduce Professor Kingsley Shacklebolt, our first Professor of Defensive Combat Magics. Defense Against the Dark Arts is no more, in it's place you will learn Defensive Combat Magics."

Kingsley nodded and gave a short wave to a healthy round of applause. Most everyone liked him, he was firm but effective.

"I would also like to introduce Acting Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. I shall be stepping aside as I find my talents are needed elsewhere. I hope to return for our next scholastic year."

Dumbledore waved happily, gestured to McGonagall to take over the podium, and skipped out of the Great Hall whistling 'A Hunting We Will Go'.

Harriet thought that she liked Dumbledore pretty well as she watched his exit. She especially liked him leaving. The doors boomed shut behind him and McGonagall called their attention to the front.

"As I have rather more to do than I have time for, Professor Shacklebolt will stand in as Gryffindor head of house in my stead. Please get a good nights rest so that you are ready for a full days learning in the morning. You are dismissed."

Harriet and Hermione hooked arms together and strolled towards the tower. Lav and Pav flounced past with airy disdain but the girls didn't mind, a bit of fluff didn't hurt anything.

"The Slytherins." Hermione nudged Harry.

"Mmhmm.. I saw. Not a happy lot."

"How worried should we be?"

"My Padfoot thinks we should be really careful. Mad Eye would skin me if I don't keep training. Are you still in?"

"Of course. What do you know about the Professor of Defensive Combat Magics?"

"Susan's Auntie got that arranged. She tore big strips off of Dumbledore I hear."

"Speaking of.. Who is he hunting?"

"The usual suspect."

Within days of Dumbledore skipping from the Great Hall some very dodgy people began waking up without memories of significant amounts of time. Often they found themselves blinking into the face of a well informed Auror.

In the Dark, Dumbledore slid through the shadows, sniffing for the scent, giddy at the lack of paperwork.

Every morning the girls ran through the castle. It wasn't fun and it wasn't pretty. It was hard work, sweaty and painful. It was also clear they were being watched. They ran with their wands in their hands, on Shacklebolt's heels. After the run they worked in the defense classroom while Shack graded papers, dodging exercises and accuracy exercises, while Moody critiqued from the mirror.

Every time Harriet saw Nott, she saw his father die. She felt she should say something to him, to Crabbe and Goyle. She felt she should offer something like condolences, but couldn't think how to begin.

Sorry about your dad, Nott. Wish he hadn't tried to AK me.

The Dark aligned students made the mistake of taking Dumbledore's absence as permission. They set their pickets and stalked their targets. Bones, Potter, and any Weasley were primary.

January 24th 1992 Hogwarts

It was just after dinner and Susan hummed as she made her way to the Potions lab. She wanted to try the next days brew, potions class went far better with preparation.

Suddenly Rosier, a second year Slytherin, was in front of her, smirking. Susan thought of her Aunt and gathered her courage. Behind her she heard more footsteps. It would be foolish to hope the footsteps belonged to someone who would see her to safety. Susan felt a very long way from safe.

"Rosier, you do know who my Aunt is don't you?"

"Good evening Miss Bones. As to your esteemed Aunt, of course I know her. I know everyone of importance. Do you have a moment? I would like to clarify your standing on some important issues."

He was getting close, much to close. She fired a cannon blast loud enough to make her ears ring.

He tutted, "There's no need for that! Petrificus Totalus!" Her arms snapped to her sides, her legs locked together. She began to fall but someone caught her easily and propped her against the cold stone of the passage wall.

"We only require a few moments of your time. Things are changing Miss Bones. Soon all of us will be judged and those found unworthy will be purged. It would be a shame to see the end of the Bones line. So many families have been lost in futile struggle."

Rosier nodded happily, his voice cool and amused.

"If you exhibit a proper attitude I've been assured someone will be found to carry on the Bones name. A proper wizard with proper respect for their betters and an appreciation of traditional values. A lovely incentive isn't it?"

He was a horrid strutting puppet, his strings controlled by a greater malice, miming real evil. Susan's stomach lurched as he studied her.

"Don't be worried Miss Bones. You're safe here of course, we all are, we're only school children. Do you ever worry about your Aunt? She has a very dangerous job. It would be a shame if something were to happen to her, a true shame don't you think?"

He smiled as he watched tears trickle from Susan's eyes.

Behind her, at the entrance to the passageway, someone set off another cannon blast and footsteps raced towards them. Rosier wasn't phased in the least.

"It seems our time is up for now. I've quite enjoyed our little chat Miss Bones."

The Slytherins wandered away as if they hadn't a care in the world. Susan could only see a portion of the wall and the ceiling, could hear footsteps hurry up to her.

"Finite!"

She staggered and screamed, wheeled to chase Rosier and his boys, but they were gone. A firm gentle hand urged her to face her rescuer.

"Are you alright?"

It was Diggory, his warm brown eyes studying her.

"No! Yes! I need to see Sprout!"

"Let's go see her then."

Professor Sprout's office was close to the Hufflepuff dorms, low and warm, with soft cushy chairs, a small bright fire, and a vast array of delectable treats set out before them.

"Miss Bones, Mister Diggory, how can I help you?"

Cedric nodded to Susan and began to fix his tea after handing her a cup. Susan fought to control her breathing, to calm herself.

"Ma'am, I was on my way to the potions lab when I was accosted by Rosier and two Slytherin thugs. I set off a cannon blast charm and he petrified me. He offered me a consort if I should begin to show what he calls proper wizarding pride and threatened my Aunt if I didn't fall in line."

"Both pompous and disgusting. Were you harmed at all? How exactly did he threaten your Aunt?"

"No harm done ma'am. I am worried that it was so easy for them to control me. Aunt Amelia warned me of a surge in Dark activity but I didn't take her seriously enough. This time nothing happened, not like Potter and Granger. Is there anything we can do?"

"The obvious solution is to make the little cretins behave. We shall take this before our new Headmistress. Mister Diggory, please see our House is informed and thank you for your assistance to another Badger."

"Of course ma'am."

Professor Sprout threw some floo powder into the fireplace and knelt to talk. It was only a few minutes before she stood again and turned to smile as Susan.

"Come with me Susan."

Rosier was lurking in the hallways.

"Mister Rosier you will accompany me to the Headmistress' office now."

"Of course Professor. May I say you look lovely this evening?"

"Only if you feel the need to shovel dragon dung every evening for the rest of the month."

Rosier lost his beaming cheeriness.

Headmistress McGonagall was at her desk, a vast array of parchment stacked around her.

"Sit."

Three straight backed hard wood chairs were set before the desk. There was no twinkle in the Headmistress' eye, there were no lemon drops on offer and the bright fire did nothing to warm the room. Moonlight cast faint glitters on the ripples of Black Lake, just visible from the windows as Susan clenched her hands together to still the trembling. McGonagall studied them as she put her parchment in order and brought her attention fully to them.

"What brings you here Pomona?"

Professor Sprout handed off the telling to Susan while Rosier sat quietly, seemingly without a care in the world.

"Mister Rosier? Is this true?"

"Yes Headmistress."

"Why do you feel you can threaten my students?"

"But I haven't threatened anyone Headmistress. I've only spoken the truth as I know it."

"You petrified a student!"

"Yes, I suppose I did. I was frightened you see. She had already used magic and seemed upset, I was worried she might harm me. Unintentionally I'm sure, but it seemed for the best to contain the situation."

"And why did you flee the scene?"

"I think flee is a bit of a misnomer. My friends and I walked away to prevent escalation of a minor event. Cooler heads have prevailed and now I'm sure that this will all be neatly settled."

Susan glanced at Professor Sprout. Her Head of House was red faced, sweating and twitching. It was clear the little bastard was going to get away with a slap on the hand.

" Mister Rosier, I will have twenty points from Slytherin and you will have an evenings detention with Professor Sprout. Twenty points from Hufflepuff Miss Bones, as well as a detention with Professor Sprout. Magic in the corridors is forbidden, as you well know. You are dismissed."

Rosier stepped away from them at the bottom of the stairs.

"Goodnight Professor, Miss Bones."

He whistled 'A Hunting We Will Go' as he walked away.

Professor Sprout glared after him, "I am sure your Aunt has experience with the law preventing justice. I shall have to ask her how she copes."

They walked along in silence, through the flickering shadows of the torches. Finally Professor Sprout let out a long sigh.

"It is time for the Badgers to make a stand. Will you see that our house is informed of this meeting?"

"I will ma'am. Thank you for standing with me."

In the Hufflepuff common room the Badgers gathered. Alice Smithings, the seventh year girls prefect took control of the meeting after Susan finished her story.

"Right! Susan wasn't harmed but it could have been a lot different if Diggory hadn't gone after her. Things went as normal around here, and nothing was done. What should we do?"

They huddled up and began to work.

Albus wouldn't have approved at all.

They pulled ideas from their collective experience. A map of the castle. Car alarms. Harriet's shiny mirror. They decided on rings, simple rings that transmitted their location to the map when touched with a wand. Rings that also made a hellish noise and flashed a brilliant light over and over. Whoever had the watch of the Hufflepuff map would broadcast the location to all the other rings. Hufflepuff loyalty would see to the rest. It took a lot of effort to make it work but they didn't mind. It was for their friends, for their schoolmates, and a bit of hard work wasn't anything a Puff minded.

It wasn't the tools they created that were so radical. It was their rules of engagement, hammered out in long debate, that shifted the course of their world.

"But if they haven't done anything, we can't do anything to them."

Mac, a muggleborn fifth year from Brixton sighed. "You lot are mad. You were losing the last fight right? Weren't you? Death Eaters get stunned and have a nice kip while your families died. That's losing."

They shuffled a bit, nervous and sad, but couldn't disagree.

"And here, now, they act like the cock of the walk. If every time one of those supremacist bastards says mudblood they wake up looking at Madame Pomfrey they will stop saying it. It won't take long either."

"But our families! Me mum can't fight them, she's a muggle! They will go after our families right off, they did the last time."

Susan felt obligated to say, "The Auror's will respond as quickly as they can."

Mac shrugged, "Lovely. What's the number?"

"The number? What do you mean?"

"For muggles it's 999, emergency dispatch"

"There isn't a number."

Mac nodded, "Just makes my point Susan me love. The majority of us are muggleborns and half bloods and the Ministry can't be arsed to keep an ear to the blower?"

Susan snagged a bit of parchment.

"I'll suggest it to my Aunt. It's a really good idea Mac. What about something like our rings, only with a portkey function? It takes a lot of power to block a portkey and anyone can use them, they don't have to be magical. That would get our families away. They could portkey to the Auror's Office and the ready squad could port right back. If the portkeys had an alarm function, even if they are blocked, it could send an alert and a location."

The Puffs as a whole backed away from Mac's suggestion of instant violence as an educational tool. But some of them knew what Mac was about, some of them lived in tough neighborhoods, and understood about the rules of the schoolyard, and gangs, and turf. Some of them didn't back away. They found like souls in Ravenclaw and Gryffindor and made their own plans.

The Hufflepuff map had gone live at the end of the first week of February, with the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor maps a week behind. Susan had begged Harriet to convince the Marauders to help in the creation of the maps. They had been happy to assist.

February 1992 Greater London

Amelia decided on sober reflection that she hated Cornelius Fudge. Susan had forwarded a very reasonable request for a telephone line so muggleborn families could call on the DMLE in case of need. Madam Bones needed Ministerial approval so she scheduled a meeting with Fudge to discuss the matter. He categorically refused to allow it.

"Clearly a violation of the Statute of Secrecy Amelia. Absolutely not! I'm shocked! Shocked I say! How could you suggest this? The muggles would be after us night and day. This is just this kind of muddled thinking that has me wondering where your loyalties lie."

The bastard wants something.

"As ever sir, my loyalties lie with the law. Muggleborn families are aware of the magical world. An emergency dispatch line would not violate the Statute of Secrecy."

"Yes, the law." It was apparent that Fudge hadn't much faith in the law. The Minister rubbed his chin as he considered her.

Perhaps she will listen to reason. Potter would be much better off under the care of the Ministry. A Minister's firm guiding hand is what the lad needs, not this damn mollycoddling!

"The Potter boy is not being raised at all appropriately. It's clear as can be that the lad is running wild. When can we expect an end to this female foolishness? I don't understand why Albus allowed it. I've never heard of such indulgence! An honored line ended over some perverse fantasy? I lay the blame squarely at the feet of Dumbledore and those muggles that raised him!"

Amelia felt the beginning of a horrendous headache as she replied, her voice calm and reasonable.

"There is certainly plenty of blame to lay at the foot of that particular altar. Potter is the ward of Black who has been cleared as competent. Potter is also Black's heir. To attempt to remove the child would be to interfere in the succession of an Ancient and Noble House. That is surely not something the Ministry should attempt."

"Come now Amelia, that is a ridiculous argument on the face of it. Removing the child would not interfere with the succession. The catering to his every whim is of concern. No sane man would do as he has done."

"I agree. No man would. Had I suffered her misfortune of birth I would have certainly taken whatever measures were necessary to correct the problem. You will recall that she has followed her Healers direction every step of the way."

"Yes, that very same Healer who claims Black is sane despite his very apparent disability."

With that Amelia's voice lost it's detachment. Her anger was evident.

"A disability acquired while unjustly imprisoned by our Ministry! I have spoken extensively with Black. He finds vocal communication difficult. His written communication is as sharp as anyone's."

"Amelia do you truly believe that the Ministry is best served with the present arrangement?"

"I believe both Harriet and justice are best served with the present arrangement. I will do everything in my power to see that the present arrangement continues."

Cornelius puffed himself up in an effort to portray himself as intimidating. He narrowed his eyes and crumpled his stupid bowler into a wad. His voice was cold, low and fierce.

"You don't want me as an enemy Bones."

"I don't. So let us agree to put this issue aside and work together on those issues we can both support."

Yes, I really do hate him. Perhaps Mad Eye could do a bit of sleuthing for leverage?

February 1992 Hogwarts

In a dim and drafty corner of the Gryffindor common room, a spot so unwelcoming that first years could claim it, Ron inched the chess board closer to Neville.

"Come on Nev, just one game."

Neville never looked up from the pages of notes Hermione somehow managed to generate from a Potions lecture the teacher never gave.

"Can't Ron, I've that essay for Snape."

"You've days before that's due mate."

"Days as in day after tomorrow, yeah."

"Right, plenty of time mate!" Neville shrugged and kept working. Ron switched targets.

"Harriet, special girl? Fancy a chance at the chess crown?"

"Ronald, clueless git? Do you know what a bollocking I took for last terms grades? Even my Padfoot was after me!"

Ron commiserated, "Mum was pretty fierce about it as well. She locked up my broom!"

"Now there is a tragedy!" Hermione spoke from her seat beside Harriet where she was reading some massive text no teacher had assigned for reasons only she understood. She snapped a page as she turned it. Being rough with a book was a clear warning sign but Ron ignored it.

"Mum wouldn't have been so horrible if someone had given a friend some proper help!"

"Ronald Weasley! Friendship has nothing to do with schoolwork. You can do your own work or not, it's all the same to me. If you flunk out I will surely miss you and will surely wish you had put some proper effort into your studies!"

Ron stalked away, grumbling and mumbling. Hermione sniffed and glared at her book.

"Hermione?"

"I'm not a homework machine. I'm not so desperate for friends that... Never mind. Just never mind."

It had the sound of a well practiced mantra. For a long time Hermione sat staring at the same page then slowly she worked back into her rhythm.

Harriet and Nev exchanged a look and buckled down to the job at hand.

-o0o0o-

Snape hissed, "Pass your assignments forward." Parchment in increasing stacks made it's way to the front of the potions lab except for Ron who hunched over his work, scribbling furiously. Snape was not amused.

"Now Weasley!"

Ron blew over his parchment in a futile effort to dry the ink and passed his homework ahead. The class began the days brew, Hermione with Neville, Harriet with a very sulky Ron who whispered.

"You could have helped me you know!"

Harriet measured out the newt eyes and began to grind them in the mortar. The dungeon was cold, dim and damp, her fingers ached from the chill and she wished she could wear her gloves. She wished as well that Ron would get the message and stop trying to manipulate them into doing his schoolwork. She whispered back.

"It's like Hermione says isn't it? You have to do it yourself if you're going to learn it."

Ron managed to both whisper and mock, repeating her words in a high singsong, "It's like Hermione says... Everything with you is what Hermione says!"

Harriet struggled with her flush and went after him. "She does have an amazing record for being right doesn't she? Seriously Ron, do you plan on marrying her and getting her to do whatever job you won't?"

He didn't like that, not one bit. "Do you?"

Snape cuffed them both, snapping their heads forward. "Less of your inane gossip about your pathetic lives, more concentration on your work. Your abominable work ethic has cost you both ten points. I'm watching you!"

Harriet couldn't decide who to glare at so she settled for trying to incinerate the ground newt eyes with a look. She felt only marginally better after she managed to give Ron a really good elbow in the stomach while reaching for the asphodel frond.

Malfoy's sneering whisper came from behind them, "Interesting. I hadn't considered just how debased you might be Potter."

Harriet stirred counterclockwise as instructed. Malfoy was a small dog with a big bone, he wasn't letting it go.

"Are you worried you've missed your chance Weasley? You've no money and no talent, that's plain. So the mudblood isn't interested in you... The Potter perversion could fill the purses of the whole slovenly lot of you if you could snag it."

Harriet looked around. Snape was hovering a few tables away, watching, doing nothing while Draco needled. Snape stared at her and she felt the usual scratching in her mind. She jerked her head away and Malfoy kept on.

"Well Potter? Are you a witch's .. er..witch? ..plaything? ..pet? Or did you get at least something right in your pitiful existence?"

Snape didn't seem to have heard Draco, but the four Gryffindor's weren't naive enough to think he wouldn't hear the least whisper from them. Harriet gritted her teeth and struggled to brew an acceptable potion. Finally class was over. They decanted their brews, labeled them, and set them on Snape's desk.

Malfoy was hovering outside. He had landed hits, had scented blood, and more was always better. The crowd around him had shrunk a bit, as the run of the mill Slytherins learned that staying around the more virulent blood supremacists drew flocks of vengeful students at the least sign of trouble and this most surely looked to be trouble.

"So... Potter? How perverse are you?"

"You've proven you're a thief and a coward Malfoy. Now you want to complete your sweep of the prizes by perving on my sexuality? Why are you interested?"

Pansy shrank away from Draco. The boy did seem just that much too interested in the whole idea. Harriet had more to say.

"Who I might love is none of your business. Whoever I choose, they won't be a brain dead lackey of that great ass Voldemort."

Malfoy flinched at the name. Behind the fear in his eyes was something else though, some other emotion, the flash of an idea. Harriet ignored it, she was much to angry to stop now.

"What's your cunning and ambitious plan Malfoy? Are you trying to pick a fight? You might want to rethink that. The first time I put you in the infirmary. The second time I put you in St. Mungo's. Vince and Greg, you boys remember our little chat on the Express, don't you? Teddy may not have heard so I'll give him the short version. If you leave us alone, you've no need to be afraid. If you don't, you do..."

Draco snorted, "Afraid! Delusional pervert! You're finished Potter, you just don't know it. You others might survive if you mend your ways. Well.. Not the mudblood..."

Harriet pointed behind Draco, "Turn around."

The hallway was packed with people, an overwhelming number of people. While Draco had been talking someone had sent the maps a silent alert. Cedric stepped right into Malfoy's face, glaring, but it was Jimmy Stebbins, a fourth year muggleborn Puff from Tottenham who laid it out plain, his voice low and fierce.

"This is our turf now."

Snape forced his way through the crowd and towered over Jimmy, "Stebbins, twenty points from Hufflepuff for threatening a student!"

Jimmy nodded, "Right. Points? I don't care about points. Does anyone? Anyone here care about points?"

Harriet kept Hermione's hand down. Jimmy looked around then faced Snape.

"Looks like Slytherin has the Cup this year Professor. No one else cares. We're much more interested in your biased punishment unless you care to take twenty from Malfoy for the same offense?"

"I do not allow cheek Stebbins. Detention with me tonight."

"Of course Professor. What time?"

Snape was very pale, clearly furious, "Seven. Now go about your business!"

Jimmy swaggered as he walked away with his new mates, a hard eyed bunch from nearly every year and nearly every house. Without anything being said everyone knew they were the enforcement arm of the new coalition.

-o0o0o-

Lav and Pav spent dinner peeking at Harriet and Hermione. looking for the least sign of lesbianism. Harriet smiled and waved whenever she caught them while Hermione huffed and blushed. Harriet and Hermione had taken their usual seats, facing Slytherin, side by side, with Ron and Nev across. Moody would have skinned them if they put their backs to enemies. Harriet made a kissy face at Pav, who squeaked and began whispering furiously with Lav.

"Stop it Harriet! You've better things to concern yourself with!"

"What? We're almost totally innocent! Nev, doesn't she blush pretty? Fred, George! Hermione and I have been most unjustly and falsely accused of deviant behavior. You've suffered unwarranted suspicion on occasion. What's the best strategy?"

"Well, we've never been accused of anything like that, being extra manly and all."

The other twin nodded vigorously.

"Still, our overwhelming masculinity aside, we do have some experience defending ourselves against completely baseless accusations of prank like activities. One word answers Harrikins. Admit nothing, ever. Ask for proof."

"How terse. Not to mention we are innocent."

"Word to the wise little one, this is Hogwarts. Guilt or innocence has nothing at all to do with blame and punishment."

That sent a ripple through the Head table.

Soon enough the girls had finished their work for the day, trudged up to their dorm and were settling down to sleep. Pav and Lav kept peeping, prompting Harriet to slither across her covers in their direction, hot eyed and panting. They nearly ripped their curtains in their hurry to get them closed.

"Idiots!"

"Harriet! Please stop provoking them. We have to live with them for the next six years. It would be nice if this dorm wasn't a war zone the whole time."

"We don't have to live with them. There is always private tutoring. I've read good things about Beauxbatons as well. Imagine! French food and living on the Mediterranean coast instead of this constant idiocy and Scottish winters."

"We would be surrounded by the French."

"Always the negative with you, Wellington managed. Warm sun?"

Hermione loved basking in any sun warmed window seat she could find, a book and any available cat in hand.

"Yes, yes, warm sun."

Hermione stumped over to Harriet's bed and scooped her up into their nightly hug then stumped away muttering over her shoulder, "Sleep well."

Neither of them did.

-o0o0o-

For a few days it was like a game. The blood elitists would corner some hapless soul, the alarm would be sent, and a crowd would gather.

It made for interesting viewing, watching the maps. Like a school of fish, the dots would wheel and vector towards a trouble spot. Eventually they cornered Amy, a quiet third year Puff. She adored her muggle dad and her squib mum and had every hope when she arrived at Hogwarts to be sorted. She had become steadily less enamored with the magical world as she learned to control her magic. Her magic, her magic that sang in her veins, rumbled warm and strong in her heart.

Amy put her back to the wall and set her wand to her new ring. The hundred decibel cannon blast shook dust from the rafters, the brilliant lightning flash blinded Amy and the four Slytherins that had cornered her.

"What's that? What have you done mudblood?"

"You'll see inbreed."

They took her wand and started hexing. Silencing was first off, then jelly legs, boils, tickling, slug vomiting, it was all low level stuff but amusing, especially in combination. The lightning flashes lit the hallway, freeze framing the motion. They had only just gotten started when they heard yelling coming their way.

"Right lads. Let's clear off. Mudblood you'll keep your mouth shut if you know what's good for you."

The four blood elitists ducked into a nearby classroom and began practicing that weeks charm, clearing their wands. They felt a good deal of satisfaction as Amy floated past the open door on her way to the infirmary. All was progressing as it normally did. The only oddity was the number of kids who paused in the doorway to study the four of them.

"OI! What are you lot staring at? Move off if you know whats good for you!"

A mysterious fall down a flight of stairs put one of Amy's attackers in severe pain, food poisoning got another, the last two were chasers on the Slytherin Quidditch team.

Seven kids from various houses walked onto the pitch at the end of a Slytherin practice. Stebbins, a fourth year Puff bellowed out, "You snakes want a scrimmage?"

It wasn't pretty. It wasn't Quidditch. The rabble team made no effort to actually play the game, they just mobbed the two chasers and beat them into the turf. Of course the rest of the team would have piled on and straightened matters out but the stands were full suddenly, full of faces that didn't look at all friendly.

Stebbins fussed with some gauze as he wrapped his skinned knuckles. One of his mates tied the bandage off. Jimmy grinned at Flint, the Slytherin captain then turned to address the stands.

"Well lads! The snakes surely had the better of us that time! Let's go see our friend Amy yeah?"

-o0o0o-

Marcus Flint sauntered towards the Slytherin common room, ready for an early night. He had just owled a report on the new upsurge in activity among the beasts and traitors. Once instructions came back, he'd tell the others. There was no need to worry, no need for concern.

Flint woke up in a dim classroom. He was blindfolded and his hands were tied. He could hear though.

"New rules fuckhead. Talk shit, feel pain." The voice was heavily distorted, some masking spell.

Flint worked to free his hands. "You don't want to go this way. We'll find out who you are."

"No worries there mate, we're the rest of them, the ones that aren't you and your forty fucked up friends."

They were skilled. They didn't break anything, they only caused massive bruising. It was nothing that Pomfrey couldn't fix in a snap. Unfortunately Flint had to sit with the pain for hours until an elf found him during a full search of the castle the next morning.

They called themselves the Flying Squad, Stebbins and his crew. The Marauders had fought proto Death Eaters with pranks. That effort, while noble and amusing, hadn't worked worth a damn. The Flying Squad used boots and fists.

Snape went mad of course. One of his snakes beaten? It was not to be borne. He dragooned every poor sod he could think of into an interrogation. It wasn't difficult to find the guilty parties. They held two thoughts in the forefront of their minds. I did it. Fuck you.

All of those he questioned kept those same thoughts in the forefront of their minds regardless of their guilt or innocence. And they all steadfastly denied any knowledge or involvement, happily providing alibis for each other.

So Snape let slip just who actually was involved to the right sort.

The classrooms and corridors became no man's land. Shouting matches erupted at the slightest provocation. Malfoy's sneering diatribes brought immediate counter argument from more than just Harriet. If the shouting devolved into physical violence, the Flying Squad went on the hunt.

The coalition didn't send the enforcers for Malfoy's mouth.

Jimmy hated that.

At first the coalition struggled to protect the Flying Squad until the Ladies Auxiliary was formed, a combat branch of the coalition that wouldn't visit violence on the elitists unprovoked but were more than happy to mix it up at the least offer of an honest fight.

Jimmy thought them naive weaklings.

And many of the coalition struggled with the morality of the Flying Squad.

-o0o0o-

Harriet groaned in frustration, "No Hermione! I'm sorry, but you're wrong."

"Wrong? Did you say... Wrong?"

"Yes dear. It had to happen eventually. Take a deep breath, center your mind, and deal. The Dark is about using magic to cause pain or to force your will on someone. Causing pain isn't Dark. Those taken by the Dark are addicted to using magic that way. Let's ask Shack since you have your face squinched up in that way that says you don't believe me."

The girls sat front and center for Defensive Combat Magics the next day with Ron and Neville to either side. Hermione's hand shot up as soon as class started.

Professor Shacklebolt was surprised to have a question even before class had begun. He asked, "Yes Miss Granger?"

"Professor could you talk about the Dark? I'm concerned that some students may fall to the Dark in the struggle against blood elitists."

Shacklebolt nodded and began to stroll back and forth before the class.

"Some certainly shall. Perhaps some already have. Some may leave the Dark. All certainly can. You should be aware that not every blood elitist, to use your term, is Dark. Not everyone else is Light. Magic is wonderful and powerful and ultimately mysterious. Some think magic is sentient, many believe magic has a will."

He stopped and studied them for a few seconds. Some looked interested, some bored. On the whole they were fully engaged. They don't know this? How could they not? Shack resolved to have a talk with the Head later about just what skill set and knowledge base was assumed for incoming students.

"Many of you will recall your wand choosing you. Can some wood wrapped around a bit of animal choose anything? And yet those who have experienced it will swear that a partnership was formed."

"The Dark then. Magic can be used for any purpose imaginable. All those ways have a .. a cost, if you will. A cost of imagination, will, desire. Some say there is an addictive quality to magic. The more you use magic the more you want to use magic. Using magic to dominate or control, to cause pain, is Dark. The more you use Dark magic, the more you want to use Dark magic. Those fully given to the Dark, such as Voldemort and his Death Eaters, no longer resist the lure of Dark magic. They revel in it. And to leave the Dark? Remorse and reparation. Stop doing that kind of magic. Eventually the yearning goes away."

Hermione ignored the elbow nudging her. She hated it when she was the W word.

May 30th 1992 Hogwarts

Minerva sat at her desk contemplating the state of her school. In all her years, Hogwarts had never been like this. There had been a fundamental shift in the school since the Yule holiday, a shift that had made the House system a shambles. Only Slytherin had any points and mass detentions had become commonplace. The students didn't give a fig for the Cup, or detentions, nor would they tolerate any blood bigotry.

She had lost control of the school.

It had gone so fast! One day a few Puffs were plotting how to avoid a beating using magical maps and secret rings. She thought it a worthy but futile project. A few months later most of the students had formed a solid block with secure redundant communications and dispersed leadership in fierce opposition to the blood purists. And the injuries were mounting.

She heard the gargoyle shift, heard the stairs activate, heard the knock. Wonderful.

"Enter."

Amelia Bones marched into her office. Just bloody wonderful!

"Headmistress, the Board will arrive in the morning for an emergency session. I require some answers before they muddy the waters."

McGonagall pulled open a desk drawer and took out a bottle of a heavenly single malt. She poured herself a robust three fingers and took half of it on the first go.

"Wonderful."