Chapter XX

On Valentine's Day Harry and Tom walked into Hogsmeade around noon. It was easy to find Hermione, Blaise, and Cedric sitting in a booth, but Harry stopped in shock when he saw who they were sitting with: Luna Lovegood and none other than Rita Skeeter, ex-journalist on the Daily Prophet and one of Hermione's least favorite people in the world.

"You're early!" Hermione said, moving along to give Harry and Tom room to sit down. "I though you two were going to spend some alone time."

"Do not worry," Tom chuckled. "Harry and I spend more than enough long time."

"How you doing Harry?" Blaise Zabini asked. "Think this is going to be long? I have this plan for Hermione see—"

"I don't know, what are we doing here, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Little Miss Perfect was just about to tell me when you arrived," Rita said, taking a large slurp of her drink. "I suppose I'm allowed to talk to him, am I?" she shot at Hermione.

"Yes, I suppose you are," Hermione said coldly.

Unemployment did not suit Rita. The hair that had once been set in elaborate curls now hung lank and unkempt around her face. The scarlet paint on her two-inch talons was chipped and there were a couple of false jewels missing from her winged glasses. She took another great gulp at her drink.

Tom leaned towards Harry, "I believe I know what is going on," he whispered.

"Yeah, Hermione is going to want Cedric and I to speak about the night in the graveyard," Harry whispered. "And I believe that it is going to be published on Lovegood's father's newspaper, what was it called?"

"The Quibbler, I believe," Tom whispered. "Will you need my help?"

"No, no you relax yourself," Harry said. He sat up straighter in his chair and relaxed against his seat. "In fact," he said a bit louder, "why don't you get us a drink Tom? I'm kind of parched."

Tom smirked and patted Harry's shoulder, "Yes, my prince," he said before sliding out of the seat and walked towards the crowded front. Harry turned to Hermione and said, "I assume that you would like me and Cedric to talk about the night when Voldemort came out? And as well as the smear campaign the Ministry has ran against Dumbledore and me?"

"Y-yeah…"

"So you actually stick to it, do you, that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back?" Rita said, lowering her glass and subjecting Harry in a piercing stare while her finger stayed longingly to the clasp of the crocodile bag. "You stand by all this garbage Dumbledore's been telling everybody about You-Know-Who returning and you being the sole witness—?"

"But I wasn't the sole witness," Harry said calmly. "There were his Death Eaters as well, would you like me to tell you their names?"

"I'd love them," Rita breathed, now fumbling in her bag once more and gazing at him as though he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. "A great bold headline: 'Potter Accuses …' A subheading: 'Harry Potter Names Death Eaters Still Among Us.' And then, beneath a nice big photograph of you… maybe Cedric can be in it too: 'Disturbed teenage survivor of You-Know-Who's attack, Harry Potter, 15, caused outrage yesterday by accusing respectable and prominent members of the Wizarding community for being Death Eaters. …"

The Quick-Quotes Quill was actually in her hand and halfway to her mouth when the rapturous expression died on her face.

"But of course," she said, lowering the quill and looking daggers at Hermione, "Little Miss Perfect wouldn't want the story out there, would she?"

"Actually, I believe that is her plan," Harry said, looking at Hermione as well. "She will want Cedric and I to give you the facts, all the facts, and you to write down what we say, exactly as I say it. Is that right, Hermione?" he cocked his head a little, giving her an innocent look.

Hermione looked at Harry, shocked, but nodded. "Yeah… I do."

Rita blotted the front of her grubby raincoat, still staring at Hermione. Then she said baldly, "The Prophet wouldn't print it. In case you haven't noticed, nobody believes his cock-and-bull story. Everyone thinks he's delusional. Now, if you let me write the story from that angle—"

"That would be useless," Harry sighed. "We've no need of another story speaking of my insanity, no matter how pretty you write it. Most likely Fudge is leaning on the Prophet—no actually, he is leaning against it, how else can it be so idiotic lately—oh thank you Tom," Harry smiled as Tom returned, placing a mug full of butterbeer in front of him. Harry took a sip and looked at Luna. "Which is where you come in, I believe," he said. "Instead of The Prophet, the interview will be on The Quibbler."

Rita snorted so loudly that people at a nearby table looked around in alarm.

"I could manure my garden with the contents of that rag," she said. "You think that people will take him seriously if he's published in The Quibbler?"

"So—

"Of course not," Harry interrupted Hermione. "There will be those who don't, but then again the Prophet's version of the Azkaban breakout had a lot of holes that left people… wanting. There will be people left wondering and wanting for a better version, a more filled version of the events, and in their search they will find The Quibbler, an ….unusual magazine of questionable quality, no offense Luna, where they will see the interview with me and be a bit keen to read it."

Rita did not say anything for a while. Hermione and Blaise stared at Harry, shocked, while Luna looked around dreamily.

"All right, let's say for a moment I'll do it," Rita said abruptly. "What kind of fee am I going to get?"

"I don't think Daddy exactly pays people to write for the magazine," Luna said dreamily. "They do it because it's an honor, and, of course, to see their names in print."

Rita Skeeter looked as though the taste of Stinksap was strong in her mouth as she rounded on Hermione. "I'm supposed to do this for free?"

"Well, yes," Hermione said calmly, taking a sip of her drink. "Otherwise, as you very well know, I will inform the authorities that you are an unregistered Animagus. Of course, the Prophet might give you a rather lot for an insider's account of life in Azkaban…"

Harry noticed that Blaise was staring at Hermione with complete awe, a huge smile on his face as he gently placed his arm around Hermione's shoulders. Rita looked as though she would have liked nothing better than to seize the paper umbrella sticking out of Hermione's drink and thrust it up her nose.

"I don't suppose I've got any choice, have I?" Rita said, her voice shaking slightly. She opened her crocodile bag once more, withdrew a piece of parchment, and raised her Quick-Quotes Quill.

"Daddy will be pleased," Luna said brightly. A muscle twitched in Rita's jaw.

"Okay, Harry!" Hermione said, turning to him. "Ready to tell the public the truth?"

"After Cedric tells what he saw," Harry said, looking at Cedric. "Though he was knocked out for most of it, he was in there too."

"The readers wouldn't care for Diggory," Rita said. "They would only care for you."

"Though Cedric's viewpoint would be a nice opening, don't you think," Harry asked. "He could tell you about how he almost died. …and How I somehow saved him from the Killing Curse."

Cedric looked between Harry and Tom. "I…I guess I can…"

Rita looked between Harry and Cedric, a sour expression on her face. "Fine, go ahead… so Cedric, in your own words what happened that night?"

Cedric nodded and took a moment to gather his thoughts. "Harry and I… we reached the Triwizard Cup at the same time. We touched it and were taken away to this graveyard, yeah? Then there was a flash of green light, I felt something push me and I was knocked out. …When I woke up my dad was crying on top of me. It was hard to breath. I thought I was going to die. Nobody was noticing me… then Tom came and saved me."

"You did?" Rita asked, looking at Tom, who nodded.

"I see… that's not much to go on… So Harry, tell me about that night in the graveyard," Rita said. "Were you scared? Who was there?"

Harry gave Tom a look and smiled. "I'll start from the beginning," he began. "We got to the graveyard just as Cedric said. The Triwizard Cup was a portkey. One of Voldemort's follower snuck up on us and tried to kill Cedric with the Killing Curse. I moved without thinking, I pushed Cedric away with a spell but his head hit hard against tombstone. Before I could go and check on Cedric, I was forced to a tombstone, ropes binding me to it. The Death Eater was revealed to be Corban Yaxley, his hood fell as he pushed towards me a giant stone cauldron. In it he placed a bundle with a disgusting unhuman-looking baby, a husk of what a real human is supposed to look like. He dropped that, bones, his own flesh, and he forced blood from me into the cauldron.

"I do not know what potion it was or what ritual… but it was horrible. I was hoping, wishing that the thing would drown, that the ritual would fail… but it didn't. There was a great smoke and from it he appeared, Voldemort."

Rita jumped at the name and then asked, "And how did he look? What did you feel looking at You-Know-Who?"

"He was monstrous," Harry said, staring at Rita. "Tall, skeletal, his entire body a boney white, red eyes and slits for a nose, snake-like you can say. Just looking at him can paralyze you with fear. He was coming closer to me… I couldn't run away and then… he touched my scar. The pain was indescribable. My vision was blurring as the pain took over. As it came back I saw that his followers where there now. They were as scared as I was, if not more. They hesitated coming towards us… Yaxley was the only one close by, but he was too busy whimpering in pain."

"Did You-Know-Who talk to his followers?"

"Yes," Harry said. "He addressed them by name, in fact. There was Crabbe and Goyle, whose sons are currently in Hogwarts, my year. Avery, Nott, and Macnair, the Ministry's executioner. They were only a small handful of the Death Eaters who arrived."

"They are all Ministry members, Avery, Nott, and as well as Yaxley were prominent and well liked," Rita said.

"Still, that does not excuse the fact that they are Death Eaters and they hold ill intent. Look at what happened with Yaxley," Harry said.

"You are referring to Corbin Yaxley's recent arrest for attempted poisoning of the Minister of Magic as well as the murders of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy?" Rita asked, writing down furiously.

"Yes," Harry said simply. His eyes went towards Hermione and Blaise. Hermione continued to stare at Harry, shocked, as if she could not believe Harry's behavior and demeanor. Blaise was also shocked, but Harry could also see a hint of curiosity. He smirked and looked back at Skeeter. "You've read about the murders, I hope?"

"Of course, and I have followed Corban's arrest very closely," Rita said.

"So you know that Yaxley poisoned Mrs. Malfoy and used the Killing Curse on Mr. Malfoy," Harry said. "I always wondered why he would do that, after all they were both suspected Death Eaters."

"What do you think happened, and how does this relate to that night?" Skeeter asked.

"Well, I believe that Mr. Malfoy was innocent, or maybe he turned away from Voldemort," Harry said. "Either way, Yaxley felt betrayed and killed the Malfoys, perhaps in order to please Voldemort when he returns, and as for the Ministry… I can only guess that Voldemort ordered him to."

"But he got caught," Skeeter said.

"Then he was not a good killer," Harry shrugged. "Thankfully," he added as an afterthought.

"Yes, thankfully," Skeeter said, writing down Harry's response. "Now, getting back to the graveyard, you were tied to a gravestone, were you not? How did you get out?"

"Voldemort freed me," Harry said. "Instead of just killing me… he freed me in order to duel me."

"Duel you?"

"Yes," Harry said. "He demanded it, really. I expect it is part of his egotistic nature. He couldn't just kill a fourteen-year-old, he needed to beat me, prove his superiority." He felt Tom's hand on his inner thigh, edging close to his flaccid cock, and couldn't help but smile. "But really that was his mistake. He forced me to bow, casted the Imperius Curse on me to do so, and then we fought. I couldn't think, I couldn't plan, I was running away through most of it. It was scary, horribly so… I thought that I was going to die. That I was going to let Cedric down… never see Tom again.

"The Death Eaters laughed all around us, watching us, closing in on me. Voldemort ordered them not to attack, just to witness. He was demanding that I showed myself, that I face my death. I couldn't breathe… I can't remember what I was thinking…" Harry made sure to look away from Skeeter, instead just staring at the table between them. He reached for Tom's hand on his inner thigh and squeezed it. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a shaky breath. "I don't know how Cedric and I got out of there. I casted the first spell I could think of… it met Voldemort's Killing Curse. An explosion of light happened, and I ran. I ran to Cedric's body and fell on it before summoning the Triwizard Cup, hoping that it will take us away, far away from Voldemort."

Harry felt Tom kiss his cheek and smiled softly. Good, he thought. Play the concern boyfriend, Tom.

He looked up at Skeeter. "Luckily, the portkey worked both ways and Cedric and I were pulled away from the graveyard and back to Hogwarts. As for what happened after that… you should know Rita. …But that fear. To stand in front of Voldemort, feel his power… see him in front of me… I was never as scared in my life."

"That… is quite a story, Harry, I have to say," Skeeter said, a twinkle in her eye. "Though there is something that both you and Cedric forgot to explain."

"And what is that?" Harry asked calmly.

"How exactly did the Triwizard Cup became a portkey that brings you to this graveyard when it was known that the cup was enchanted to bring whoever touches it back at the beginning of the maze?" Skeeter asked.

"That… Voldemort had one of his followers in Hogwarts," Harry said. "The Death Eater used a Polyjuice potion to disguise himself as Professor Moody year round. He actually kept the real Mad-Eye locked in a trunk. You can speak to Professor Dumbledore or Moody if you do not believe me."

"And this is the whole story? Everything that happened in the graveyard?" Skeeter asked.

"This is the truth, I have not lied to you once," Harry said. He took a deep breath and looked at Tom. Tom nodded and helped Harry to slide onto his lap where Tom wrapped his arms around Harry's waist. Skeeter spent a moment silently writing. When she was done, she opened her crocodile bag and placed her parchment and quill away.

Turning to Harry she said, "Well Harry… this has been a most illuminating meeting. Miss Granger, believe me that I will write a very interesting article about you." She got up and left, leaving the others at the table.

Blaise looked at Hermione and gave a low whistle, "I think you made her angry, Hermione," he chuckled.

"Like I care," Hermione said. Blaise just smiled and kissed her cheek. He looked at Harry and Tom and said, "Well… Hermione and I are going to go now. I had a nice plan to impress her."

Hermione rolled her eyes but allowed Blaise to escort her from her seat. Before they left, she looked at Luna and said, "Thank you for doing this Luna."

"You're very welcome," Luna said dreamily. "Daddy will be very happy to get an article about Harry Potter. He was a bit jealous that he didn't have one yet."

"Yes… well… I am sure that this interview will make your father very proud," Hermione said. "Harry," she turned to him. "Can I… what was that?"

"What was that?" Harry asked innocently.

"Your entire behavior during the interview," Hermione said. "I never saw you like that before… it was freaky."

Harry gave a soft giggle and smiled at Hermione. "I was just acting like myself Hermione," he said. "Tom taught me many things, Hermione. It's only natural that I pick up a few of his talents."

"But that didn't sound like you at all Harry," Hermione frowned.

Harry shrugged. "If I didn't act like that, the interview would drag on and become much more difficult as Skeeter try to pull every detail from me. Look, I don't want to talk about that night, okay? It was either I do what I did or have Skeeter have her fun. And between you and me, I prefer the way I handled it."

Hermione was still looking at Harry weirdly but shook her head. "Fine, the interview's over anyway," she said. "Now we'll just have to wait for Luna's dad to publish it."

.

Harry received letters two weeks later. It was Monday morning and the Gryffindor table was amazed as they watched owl after owl fly towards Harry, dropping their letters before hooting away, flapping their wings against one another.

"Harry! Read this one first," Hermione said breathlessly, plunging her hand into the feathery mess and pulling out a screech owl bearing a long, cylindrical package. "I think I know what this means—open it!"

Harry ripped off the brown packaging. Out rolled a tightly furled copy of March's edition of The Quibbler. He unrolled it to see his own face along with Tom's grinning sheepishly at him from the front cover. In large red letters across his picture were the words:

HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST:

THE TRUTH ABOUT HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED

AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN

"It's good, isn't it?" Luna said, who had drifted over to the Gryffindor table and now squeezed herself onto the bench between Fred and Ron. "It came out yesterday. I asked Daddy to send you a free copy. I expect all these," she waved a hand at the assembled owls still scrabbling around on the table in front of Harry, replacing those who flew off, "are letters from readers."

"When did she get a picture of us?" Harry said absentmindedly as he looked at the cover.

"Just what I was wondering, love," Tom's voice said. "Hermione, if you would… thank you." He moved onto the bench as well and automatically rapped an arm around Harry's waist. "Though, I must say, it is a good picture… though that should say 'fiancé' instead of 'boyfriend.'"

Tom picked up one of the letters and opened it. "'Dear Mr. Potter, I believe that there is a perfectly permanent ward in St. Mungo's waiting for you for spreading such stupid lies. You are deeply disturbed and a danger to our society.' I'm surprised that this is not from Professor Umbridge," Tom chuckled.

"Can we…"

"Help yourselves," Harry said, feeling slightly bemused.

Ron and Hermione both started ripping open envelopes.

"This one's from a bloke who thinks you're off your rocker," Ron said, glancing down his letter. "Ah, well…"

"This one seems okay… she believes you," Hermione said.

"This one's in two minds," Fred said, who had joined in the letter-opening enthusiasm. "Says you don't come across as a mad person, but he really doesn't want to believe You-Know-Who's back so he doesn't know what to think now. …Blimey what a waste of parchment."

"Here's another one you've convinced, Harry!" Hermione said excitedly. "'Having read your side of the story I am forced to the conclusion that the Daily Prophet has treated you very unfairly …Little though I want to think that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned, I am forced to accept that you are telling the truth. …' Oh, this is wonderful!"

Tom chuckled, picking up a letter with a photo. "This one believes you're a hero, and seems to want to seduce you… poor girl."

"Even if she was a guy, I wouldn't look twice," Harry whispered, kissing Tom's cheek.

"Good boy, I've trained you well," Tom joked. Harry smiled and nodded in response.

"What is going on here?" said a falsely sweet, girlish voice.

Harry looked up with his hands full of envelopes. Professor Umbridge was standing behind Fred and Luna, her bulging toad eyes scanning the mess of owls and letters on the table in front of Harry.

"Why have you got all these letters, Mr. Potter?" she asked slowly.

"Is that a crime now?" Fred said loudly. "Getting mail?"

"Be careful, Mr. Weasley, or I shall have to put you in detention," Umbridge said. "Well, Mr. Potter?"

Harry hesitated, but he did not see how he could keep what he had done quiet; it was surely only a matter of time before a copy of The Quibbler came to Umbridge's attention.

"People have written to me because I gave an interview," Harry said. "About what happened to me last June."

"An interview?" Umbridge repeated, her voice thinner and higher than ever. "What do you mean?"

"I mean a reporter asked me questions and I answered them. Surely you know what an interview is, Professor Umbridge, though if you don't, here, use this as an example," Harry said. And he threw the copy of The Quibbler at her. She caught it and stared down at the cover. Her pale, doughy face turned an ugly, patchy violet.

"When did you do this?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Last Hogsmeade weekend," Harry said.

She looked up at him, incandescent with rage, the magazine shaking in her stubby fingers.

"Then there will be no more Hogsmeade trips for you, Mr. Potter," she whispered. "How you dare… how you could …" She took a deep breath. "I have tried again and again to teach you not to tell lies. The message, apparently, has still not sunk in. Fifty points from Gryffindor and another week's worth of detention."

"Unfortunately, Professor, you seem to forget your place," Tom said. He stood from the bench and smiled politely at Professor Umbridge. "You see, only the Heads of Houses can ban Hogsmeade trips for their students, and while you are the… 'high inquisitor' your position only allows yourself to evaluate your fellow staff members, not decide which privileges to give or take away."

"You… Mr. Riddle, just who do you think you are?" Professor Umbridge demanded.

"Why, just a student who is very observant, professor," Tom smiled. "And, I hope, a humble reminder to you that you are not as powerful as you think you… because quite frankly you are getting on my nerves. But, never mind that, it seems that you are looking to create another Educational Decree… which number will this one be? I find myself losing track of them."

Umbridge stalked away, clutching The Quibbler to her chest, the eyes of many students following her.

By mid-morning enormous signs have been put up all over the school, not just on House notice boards, but in the corridors and classrooms too.

BY ORDER OF

THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS

Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled.

The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven.

Signed:

Dolores Jane Umbridge

HIGH INQUISITOR

"I must admit, she is starting to get annoying," Tom sighed as he and Harry stood in front of one of the many signs. "Though, it seems that she has played herself. This will only want the students to read the article even more so."

"You're right," Harry said, leaning against his boyfriend. "By the end of the week I'll say that everyone will have read the article. Though… I don't know how you expect to send Umbridge away, or kill her now…"

"True, I was hoping that we could suffer through her a little while longer but, she really is becoming an annoying nuisance. Like a loud fly that you cannot seem to swat," Tom said.

"So what do you think we do?" Harry asked, looking up at Tom.

"I was going to take my time planning our break in at the Department of Mysteries, try and learn everything I could, as well as make sure that it was after your O.W.L.s so you don't have to worry about the break in while you study or vice versa. However now… now I'm just annoyed.," Tom said.

"We can kill her, and have one of your—our followers replace her," Harry said. "Like last year?"

"Last year was the result of Crouch studying Moody's habits and knowing the man on a personal level," Tom said. "No, no we can't kill her… but that doesn't mean she has to stay in the castle."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. Tom looked down at Harry and smiled. He placed a hand on Harry's stomach and said, "What I mean, my love, my dear prince, is that we have centaurs… We can simply lead the woman to them and have them whisk her away."

Harry stared at Tom. "That's… that's actually a good plan," he said. "But what about afterwards? What will Hogwarts do without a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

"That is a good question, Harry," Tom said. "We have half a term left, and so far we have learned nothing from Umbridge. Knowing Dumbledore, he will do his hardest to find a replacement before the Ministry does. If you have any suggestions…"

"For teaching? Well um… Professor Lupin was actually the best teacher we had," Harry said. "But he's too busy working for the Order—"

"I am sure keeping an eye on you is far more important than whatever Dumbledore sent him to do," Tom chuckled. "Though we won't commence our plan immediately, my love, no, no too soon for that. No, I need to plan more, think more carefully. I need to hasten everything it seems…"

"So, when do you think we can do it?" Harry asked.

"Give me a month, my prince, and I will have prepared everything we need," Tom said.

"Yes Sir," Harry said.

.

However, it seems that only two weeks from Umbridge's newest Decree, Harry and Tom's alliance with the centaurs seemed to be tested. Professor Umbridge had sacked Professor Trelawney, trying to exile her from the castle only to be stopped by Dumbledore, who insisted that Trelawney continued to live at Hogwarts. In her replacement, he hired the centaur Firenze, who Harry remembered from his first year. After his first Divination class with the centaur, and hearing of how his herd banished Firenze for working for Dumbledore, Harry made his way quickly to the forest, running deep inside of it. "Bane! Bane!" he yelled out. "Bane!"

He heard the quick stomps of many hooves and was once again surrounded by beautiful men, their naked torsos gleaming with sweaty muscles that made Harry's throat suddenly dry. The strongest, and most muscular of the group stepped forward. "Who are you, Potter, to demand our presence?" Bane demanded.

"Bane…" Harry breathed. "I was worried… about us. Once I saw Firenze in Hogwarts—"

"Do not mention him," Bane ordered.

"Of course not, I'm sorry," Harry said quickly, bowing his head submissively.

The older centaur chuckled. "You are so quick to submit, Harry Potter, a trait that I look long for. It is a shame that you are another man's mare. If you weren't, I would have mount you the moment I saw you," Bane said with a confident smirk. "I am the leader of our herd, after all… and can give you pleasure no human can."

"That… that is a wonderful offer Bane," Harry purred. He slowly made his way towards the centaur and placed a delicate hand on his chest. "You look so strong, stronger than my man… I am a bit wishing that he had the physical size that you have." He felt a muscled arm wrap around his torso and was picked up easily.

"Then you should leave him, little boy, and become a real stallion's mare," Bane growled. Harry found his cheeks flushing as he moved his arms around Bane's neck, looking into his dark eyes.

"Bane… I love my stallion, my man… he is my Lord, my Master," Harry said softly. "He made me into the mare—boy I am today. Though, it is true that without you, I could never be a true mare. Even now inside me is a womb that waits to be filled."

"So it has worked?"

"Yes Bane, and I will be forever grateful to you for that," Harry confessed. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Bane caught it, pulling the boy into a rough, surprising kiss that shocked Harry. He tried to struggle out of the kiss, but Bane's arm kept him locked to his human, muscular torso. "Bane!" Harry gasped when the centaur released him.

"It is our tradition, that the leader of the herd gets a taste of every mare," Bane smirked. "You are a beautiful boy, and a healthy mare, Harry Potter. If your Master prove unsatisfying, I shall always be here ready to show you a true stallion. Until then, our bond is still intact. I do not care what that traitor does, you have not made the pact with him, but with me."

"Thank you Bane," Harry said as the centaur lowered Harry back to the ground. "I promise if my Master is ever less than I deserve, I'll come to you and submit fully."

"Good. And on that day, I will fully make you a mare," Bane smirked. "Goodbye Harry Potter."

Harry stood still as he watched Bane and the other centaurs ride away. Harry couldn't help but notice that he has ever saw male centaurs, never female. He wondered briefly where they were, but decided to stop thinking. The mare talk was confusing Harry, and he was still shocked, and a little angry, about Bane's kiss. Taking several deep breaths, he forced himself to focus on positives. He still had the pact with the centaurs, they're still honoring their agreement. We need to get rid of Umbridge soon, Harry thought to himself. The sooner he didn't have to see Bane ever again, the better.

Though… Harry had to admit to himself that he did like Bane's physical body, and decided that he was definitely going to bully Tom to get a more muscled body. He might gladly be Tom's submissive, but that didn't mean he didn't want Tom to do things he wanted. Quickly making his way back to Hogwarts, Harry's mind switched towards the D.A. There was a meeting that night, and he and Tom had to figure out what they were going to teach.

They both decided on Patronuses. "One final purely Light Arts spell," Tom said to Harry, "before we delve into the Dark Arts."

The members were very excited to start casting Patronuses, though as Harry kept reminding them, producing a Patronus in the middle of a brightly lit classroom when they were not under threat was very different to producing it when confronted by something like a dementor.

"Can you make a Patronus?" Cho asked Tom.

"No, I cannot," Tom said simply. "To make a Patronus, you need to have a pure heart. No matter how much I'll try, I wouldn't even make a mist." To emphasize his explanation, Tom waved his wand saying, "Expecto Patronum," but nothing came.

"You two don't need to be such killjoys," Cho said brightly, watching her somewhat swan-shaped Patronus soar around the Room of Requirement during their last lesson before Easter. "They're so pretty!"

"They are not supposed to be pretty, Cho," Tom said a bit harshly. "They are supposed to protect you from dementors."

"What we need is a boggart or something," Harry said. "That's how I learned, I had to conjure a Patronus while the bogart was pretending to be a dementor—"

"But that would be really scary!" Lavender Brown said, who was shooting puffs of silver vapor out of the end of her wand. "And I can't—do it!" she added angrily.

Tom sighed and shook his head. He walked around the room as Harry took control, he was the one who knew the most about Patronuses after all. He moved towards Draco and Ron. Ron was producing a silvery substance that Tom thought was a tiny bear while Draco kept flicking his wand in frustration. "I can't do it!" he said angrily.

"Of course you can't, you're a Malfoy," Tom said. "Generation after generation of Dark Wizards? It would be a miracle if you can produce even a wisp."

Draco shot Tom a glare and tried again, failing. "You should stop at this point Draco," Tom sighed. "Dark Wizards cannot produce a Patronus, even if it is just because of their affinition. You can read Auras, look around, tell us what you see."

"Just various shades of yellow," Draco said, looking around. "You and Harry are the only truly emeralds ones… but Harry still has yellow on him."

"And you are most likely the same as me," Tom said.

"Hang on," Ron said, frowning between the two of them. "You're muggleborn Tom, how can you have so much green on you? Draco and I've been practicing for a year or so and he told me I still barely have green."

Tom looked at Ron. Giving the redhead a smile he said, "Simple, Ronald, I am a curious mind. That, and I always had difficulty casting more light-affiliated spells. My soul and heart are too perverted by the Dark Arts that it is impossible for me to perform it."

"Well… that's unacceptable for you Draco," Ron said. "You're going to perform the spell one way or another, yeah."

"How many times do I have to tell you, I can't?" Draco groaned. "It's impossible."

Ron gave Draco a harsh look and screwed up his face in concentration. He swirled his wand and yelled out, "Expecto Patronum!" A silvery mist shot out of his wand and started to take shape, becoming slightly more corporeal until a bear was standing in front of them for a brief second, turning into mist again.

"Congratulations, you can do it," Draco drawled. "Still does not mean that I can."

"Try."

"Or?"

"Try, Weasley," Ron growled out. Tom raised an eyebrow as Draco shot Ron another glare before pointing his wand in the air, swirling it around and attempting to perform the spell again. Tom watched as Draco continued to try, his face actually starting to shine with sweat from his attempts, but the best Draco could muster was a faded wisp that was barely visible for a second.

Draco's next attempt was distracted, however, as the door of the Room of Requirement opened and then closed again; Tom looked around to see who had entered, but there did not seem to be anybody there. It took a few moments to realized that it was Dobby the House-elf, who was stuttering to Harry.

"Harry Potter … she… she…"

Dobby hit himself hard with a fist, which Harry quickly grabbed.

"Who's 'she' Dobby?" Harry said. "Umbridge?"

Dobby nodded, then tried to bang his head off Harry's knees. Harry held him at bay.

"What about her? Dobby—she hasn't found out about us, about the D.A.?"

He read the answer in the elf's stricken face. His hands held fast by Harry, the elf tried to kick himself and sank to his knees.

"Is she coming?" Harry asked quietly.

Dobby let out a howl. "Yes, Harry Potter, yes!"

Harry straightened up and looked around at the motionless, terrified people gazing at the thrashing elf.

"WHAT ARE YOU STANDING AROUND FOR?" Harry bellowed. "RUN!"

They all pelted toward the exit at once, forming a scrum at the door, then people burst through; Harry could hear them sprinting along the corridors and hoped they had the sense not to try and make it all the way to their dormitories. It was only ten to nine, if they just took refuge in the library or the Owlery, which were both nearer—

Tom sighed and looked at Harry, "I'm done pretending, love," he said as Hermione yelled for Harry in the center of the knot of people now fighting to get out.

"What do you mean?"

"Let them come," Tom shrugged. "Leave the elf and let them come."

"Alright," Harry said. They joined the others trying to escape and made sure they were the last ones through. "Dobby! This is an order. Go back to the kitchen with the other elves and if she asks you whether you warned me, lie and say no. Also, you're not allowed to hurt yourself!"

"Thank you, Harry Potter!" Dobby squeaked and he streaked off.

Tom and Harry looked around, Tom could hear people running towards them from their left and turned. Harry did too and saw a group of Slytherins as well as Umbridge running towards them. Harry immediately recognized Parkinson and Crabbe and Goyle along with Daphne Greengrass. He looked at Tom, and said, "Do not—"

"Of course, I won't, my love, I'll simply do this," Tom said. Before Harry noticed, Tom had his wand out and flicked it. The corridor seemed to vibrate, the walls shaking violently and caused Umbridge and the Slytherins to fall to the ground. Tom gave another flick and ropes appeared, tying around Umbridge and the Slytherins.

"Knock the woman out please, love, I need a talk with them," Tom said.

Harry smiled and walked up to Umbridge, who was struggling against the rope that bind her. "Stupefy," he sighed and a red beam of light shocked her.

"Vincent… Pansy… Daphne… Gregory… Tracey… Millicent… Urguhart… and young Malcolm Baddock," Tom listed off. "My, my… look at the disloyalty. Tell me, why shouldn't I kill your parents now?"

The Slytherins all stared at Tom in horror. Tom moved in front of them, his wand dragging from one student to another. "Or… perhaps I should kill you," he said, "and let your parents find your mangled, torn bodies on their doorstep?"

"You…My…"

"Yes, I would Parkinson," Tom chuckled. "You and I both know the truth. So, why has it you have done this? Any of you? You, Baddock, you are only twelve. Why are you here?"

"They—they made me… told me it was good," the twelve year old stuttered. Tom frowned and looked at the Slytherins, wholly disappointed. He waved his wand and the ropes tying Baddock disappeared.

"Leave," Tom commanded, and the second-year went running. Ignoring the other Slytherins, Tom turned to Harry. "What do you suppose, my love, that they would do if they have caught us?"

"Well… someone must have snitched on us," Harry said. "I'm guessing bringing us back to her office… no wait…" Harry frowned as he thought for a moment. "Dumbledore's office, because it is Dumbledore's Army. Umbridge will use us to try and get Dumbledore to Azkaban or fired!"

"And thus he is our of her way, and ours, in Hogwarts," Tom said with a knowing smile. "This woman truly is the most annoying and predictable woman in existence."

"You mean…" Harry gasped. "You planned for this to happen?"

"Why else name ourselves 'Dumbledore's Army,' love?" Tom asked. "I am completely confident that the Minister of Magic is in this school as we speak. Most likely in Dumbledore's office."

"So we use this chance to kill him?" Harry asked hopefully.

"No, no not yet… but, that does not mean we can't lay the foundation for his death," Tom said. "Tell me Harry, how skilled are you at injecting and removing potions via spell?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. He looked at Umbridge's unconscious body and said, "I've took away her uterus when I went to get my ring."

"No this is something completely different," Tom muttered. "Ahh, there's no time to do that… oh well."

"So what now?" Harry asked.

"Now, we will escort Professor Umbridge to the headmaster's office, and talk with the Minister of Magic," Tom said. "Afterwards, we shall watch the events unfold and I'll have to change my plans accordingly."

"Meaning?"

"All in good time, my love," Tom chuckled. "When we are alone, we will talk more about it. As for now… these children need punishment for going against their Lord."

He turned towards Parkinson and the other Slytherins, his skin turning chalky white, his limbs expanding hideously as his eyes shifted to a murderous red. Voldemort said nothing. He just slashed his wand and the seven Slytherins all screamed in pain as the sound of bones breaking filled the corridor. The Slytherins all screamed and whimpered in pain as Voldemort waved his wand again, and with another sick sound their bones were repaired, though purposefully poorly. He turned to Umbridge and shifted back to his normal appearance before waving his wand over her head.

Professor Umbridge began screaming angrily but Tom stopped her with a jab of his wand to her throat. "Come along Dolores," he said. "Time to go visit Dumbledore and the Minister."