A/N: Rejoice, for here is yet another chapter of Tear It Up! … Oh come on, maybe a little cheer? … Ah well, for all those still reading my drivel thank you! Loyalty is something deeply admirable and that … dear magic I'm sounding like Wyatt … can you sound like a character you write? I think I need a sleep, or two. Maybe three, just to be on this side of safe. So, erm, my standard disclaimer applies - this being one of the chapters in which I really do need it - (speaking of which I should probably write out again one day…) and - just a hint - I really do enjoy replying to reviews … it's fun. And kills time in my otherwise boring little life.

BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS

Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information
that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach

The above is in accordance with Educational Decree
Number Twenty-six

Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor

Chris had managed to have a lot of fun with this decree, as did other members of the student body;. The only down point was that it had resulted in an increase in the number of detentions people received; Cole had actually been forced to cancel some of Chris' training sessions - which were becoming less and less need but Cole had been reluctant to cancel them as they allowed him to make sure Chris didn't do anything stupid at least for a few hours each night - and made to frogmarch Chris down into Umbridge's study for his detentions. As a result, Chris' hand now bore a new scar, directly under his old one, this one reading 'Umbitch can kiss my wiccan ass.'

Needless to say, while students may have been impressed, the teachers definitely were not.

Chris' antics continued, effectively killing the time that he would have otherwise been bored in. Without him really noticing, it was February, and then it was Wyatt's birthday. "Crap, crap, CRAP," Chris yelled, digging under his bed in the dorm, trying to find the present he had picked up the week before when he had ditched his classes for a day to go gift shopping in London.

"Erm, Chris," Harry said, looking over at the witch light with a look of amused curiosity on his face, "are you okay?" he asked. Chris paused in his searching, turning to look at Harry with look of annoyance.

"No, Wonder Boy, I am not okay," he said, drawling the words out. "I am very late for a party, and if I don't show up with a present the birthday boy will blast my ass to the pit and back." he told Harry, leaning back under the bed, digging around for the present. "I know it's here somewhere," he muttered, looking back under the bed, pushing aside his never opened copy of Defensive Magical Theory.

" … Chris, since when do you get invited to birthday parties?" Harry asked, staring in confusion. "The only friend you have is Luna, and I'm pretty sure her birthday isn't the 6th of February." Chris sighed, admitting defeat with his search under the bed and standing up.

"Let me correct you there Wonder Boy, Luna is the only friend I have in this school," he said, dusting down his jeans. "Outside of this school, I have many friends, all of whom are cooler than you," he gave a sarcastic smile, ending in a rather sing song tone. He looked around the room with boredom, before laying his hand out flat. "Present," he said, watching with a sense of relish as Wyatt's gift orbed into his hand. "Huh, why didn't I think of that in the first place," he wondered out loud. He turned to face Harry, who was staring at him with a look of jealously.

"How do you get powers like that?" Wonder Boy asked, unable to keep the jealously which was clear on his face from entering his tone of voice. Chris looked at him, considering the matter.

"Have an asshole angel of a father?" he suggested finally, shrugging and orbing out of the dorm room. He had to admit, orbing was always a feeling that you couldn't really explain to anyone. How could you explain what it felt like to break into different molecules, but still be you? He stopped thinking on the subject, wincing as he forced his orbs into taking the appearance of dark lighter orbs. It was a painful process, but one that he had to undertake. He reappeared, standing in the entrance way of Wyatt's chambers. Today was the one day he would chose to give his brother the respect he commanded out of all his followers, of which Chris had voiced often he wasn't. He knocked on the door, and entered only when Wyatt had said he could.

"Hey Wy," he smiled, holding up the present with an unusual touch of nervousness, "happy birthday bro'." Wyatt stared for a moment, before turning to look at the calendar on the wall.

"Is that today?" he asked, with a moment's surprise. "I'd forgotten."

"Well, it is," Chris said, with a touch of his usual sarcasm. "And I actually went shopping in honour of it, so … just take the damn present.," he finished, shoving the gift into his brother's hand, looking away from him quickly, knowing that Wyatt would take this opportunity to mock him.

Instead of mocking his little brother, something Wyatt was tempted to do, he accepted the gift with a good nature, unwrapping it and smiling. "Well, well, well, where did you pick this up?" Wyatt asked, turning the book over in his hands. Morder's Book of Magic was an ancient text, with only one known copy in existence, the copy which Wyatt now held in his hands, which just happened to be the original copy of the book, complete with footnotes from Morder himself.

"London," was Chris' vague answer. Wyatt nodded, flicking through the book with growing interest. There were spells in this book that would definitely help further his plans, and decrease some of the risk factors that came with some of the plans. "So…a good present then?"

"A good present, you do seem to have a knack at this stuff," Wyatt admitted. "Though that's due to the bond … "

"You mean the thing Mom and the sisters had?" Chris asked, faking ignorance. Wyatt gave him a look and he held his hands up in defeat. "I know what you're on about Wy, it's just a little on the whole … mystical crap side for me," he shrugged.

"You always were a scientist above everything," Wyatt commented lightly. Chris shook his head

"It's not a belief in science, it's more finding the idea of a bond to be a little too … powers that be," he finished lamely, shrugging as he spoke. "I don't deny its existence, you know I'm well aware there's this magical bond between us Wy," Chris said, licking his lips slightly to deal with their dryness, "I'm just reluctant to use anything that would put us back in the view of the Elders." Wyatt considered this for a moment or two.

"Indeed," he said finally, looking at his brother with a hint of pride in his face. "How interesting for you to think on that, it was not a consequence I had considered, the Elders could have spies amongst us," he mused out loud. Chris shook his head.

"They're not that smart, well," Chris said, thinking over his statement, "they are, but they're not that stupid. Wy, your defences are tight, no spy would be able to stay in your company long enough to get any good information outta you." Chris gave a short laugh. "Hell, no one's in your company long enough to get any sort of information outta you."

"Except you," Wyatt said, his voice soft and his tone dangerous, causing Chris to stop in his tracks. He stared at his older brother for a few moments, his mind racing to find a way to dig himself out of the hole he created.

" … Except me," he conceded. "But, come on Wy, why the hell would I play spy for the stinkin' Elders," he said, giving his brother a look of annoyance that he could inadvertently suggest such a thing.

"True," Wyatt said, keeping eye contact with Chris. "I know you would never betray me brother." he said, making himself sound regal. He did this so often, Chris couldn't help but think he was playing Merlin to Wyatt's Arthur. Wyatt kept an eye on Chris, speaking with a hint of boredom. "You really should get back to Hogwarts, how else will its defences weaken if you spend all your time here?"

"… Real quality timer ain't ya Wy?" Chris drawled, forcing himself not to wince as the dark orbs surrounded him. Wyatt continued to watch well after his brother had orbed away. Whether he liked it or not, Barbas words had gotten to him, and played at the front of his mind often. He was almost completely positive that he had nothing to fear from his younger brother, but often he would come out with a statement which would have Wyatt wondering. He had discussed the issue many times with Riddle since Barbas had yelled it during his torture session, leading to Wyatt banishing the pitiful demon from his presence. But still … what was that song? Listen to the mad man? Perhaps that was a good idea.

XXX

After Wyatt's birthday, the time passed quickly, Chris returning to his antics the way he had before, though there was a sense of something waiting to explode in him. On Valentine's Day, a holiday which he really didn't like, he had gleefully burned any and all cards he received in front of the girl's who gave him them, claiming that he wasn't interested in 'desperate.' Luna had giggled lightly, finding his actions amusing, though at the same time, chiding him to be nicer about it. Shaking his head, he had retreated to the library, spending his Valentine's day rereading his battered copy of The Hobbit. He always had been a bit of a Tolkien geek, and had placed his books in the magical history area in the library, informing the librarian that they weren't fiction, but in fact an accurate retelling of the troubles of Middle Earth.

He had received a week's detention for that one. And lines. The librarian really wasn't happy. He had quickly run from the library, ending up in the Great Hall when people began returning from Hogsmede, greeting Luna at the front door and listening to her story of Harry's interview for her Daddy's magazine. Chris nodded politely, butting in only once to ask Luna if he could get a copy of that issue, just to have a look at. Luna had nodded in her dreamy manner.

He had gotten that issue, a fortnight later like everyone else. It had come to him in a plain brown paper wrapped tube, which had been ripped open, allowing the magazine to drop out on to the table.

HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST:
THE TRUTH ABOUT HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAME
AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN

"Hm, pithy headline," he muttered, rolling his eyes and opening to the interview, reading through it quickly, though with little interest in it whatsoever. All it did was retell the story which he already knew, and had mocked Voldemort for many times over the summer. When he had finished reading, he closed the magazine over, waving his hand over it, orbing it directly to Wyatt, who he reasoned, could use the laugh.

It didn't take long for Umbitch to find out about the interview however, and her fury was something Chris couldn't help but be pleased at. Anything that annoyed her was brilliant in his eyes. By 11 o'clock that very morning, a new sign was posted on every notice board in the castle.

BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISTIOR 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.

"You complete and utter idiot Toadie," Chris muttered upon seeing the notice. If there was one way of guaranteeing that every student in Hogwarts would read the interview, it was to out rightly tell them that they weren't allowed it. After all, it was the teenage nature to rebel against authority. Especially if said authority was immensely disliked.

The next few days passed with little problem, and Chris was beginning to think that life was turning out to be normal. Classes came and went quietly, there was no news of the escaped Death Eaters. Chris didn't even seem to be getting as many detentions as he once did. To be honest, the normality of life worried him. Unseen from the school, a war was waging, and the fact that there was no hint of it here didn't do anything to set him at ease. Luckily for Chris, there came an incident which broke through the quiet.

It happened on a particularly lazy Monday evening. Chris was still sitting in the Great Hall; being reluctant to go back to the Gryffindor common room as people were still discussing how 'cool' Wonder Boy was for giving an interview that had been banned from the school. The whole thing caused Chris to feel slightly annoyed - all the kid had done was say things that one person who had the power didn't like. If they knew half of the things he had done … he would most likely be thrown in Azkaban. It was better for him to keep his mouth quiet about his past. The shriek came, breaking through the silence and causing everyone, except Chris, to jump. "At bloody last," Chris muttered, following the crowd into the Entrance Hall, noting off handily that Hogwarts had a lot of Halls.

In the middle of the Hall stood Professor Trelawney; wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other. Her hair was standing on end, and her glasses were lopsided. Overall, with her haphazard dress, she gave the strong impression that she was coming apart at the seams. At her feet sat two large trunks. She faced the foot of the stairs, looking at someone who Chris couldn't see, but would place money on who it was. Which he did, with a group of rather slow, but highly arrogant, Slytherins who were standing beside him. "No! NO! This cannot be happening …it cannot … I refuse to accept it!" she shrieked.

"You didn't realise this was coming? Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow's weather , you must surely have realised that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable that you would be sacked?" While Umbridge had been speaking, in a gleeful girlish tone, Chris had collected his winnings with a smirk, noting that it had been too easy. Professor Trelawney had begun to cry loudly.

"You c - can't!" she howled, "you c - can't sack me! I've b - been here sixteen years! H - Hogwarts is m - my h - home!" she hiccupped, looking a pitiful sight, tears running messily down her cheeks, her enormous lenses making it seem that much worse.

"It was your home, until an hour ago, when the Minister for Magic countersigned your Order of Dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this Hall. You are embarrassing us," Umbridge said, her enjoyment of this scene clear on her face. She really was a nasty piece of work, Chris noted. He doubted Wyatt would even allowed her in his service, there was just something deeply off-putting about her. He watched as McGonagall, who he would finally admit to having some respect for, out of all the members of the Order apart from Molly, broke away from the spectators, marching up to Trelawney handing the woman a handkerchief.

"There, there, Sybill … calm down … blow your nose on this … it's not as bad as you think, now … you are not going to have to leave Hogwarts … " she said, comforting the weeping woman as best she could. She wasn't made to be someone to offer comfort though, Chris thought, studying the scene with a cool eye. She was too tall, too thin, looking more like a protector than someone who you would turn to for comfort.

"Oh really, Professor McGonagall? And your authority for that statement is … ?" Umbridge asked, her tone deadly, stepping forward from her position at the bottom of the stairs. McGonagall stared at the toad woman, meeting her eye contact and not breaking from it, something Chris thought important. When the time came, he knew McGonagall would be in the centre of the fight.

"That would be mine," the deep voice of Dumbledore rang out in the hall, commanding attention in a way that people wouldn't think would be the norm for commanding attention. The front doors stood open, from when they had been swung that way, in an impressive way of announcing oneself. Everyone watched as Dumbledore strode into the centre, and straight towards Trelawney.

"And here's comes Gandalf, saving the day once again, in the name of the greater good," Chris muttered rolling his eyes and kicking the ground slightly. It was almost laughable, how predictable Dumbledore's actions could be. He still thought the old man a bit on the dodgy side though, and he knew he wouldn't last the war.

"Yours, Professor Dumbledore?" Umbridge gave an unpleasant little laugh. "I'm afraid you do not understand the position. I have here an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister of Magic. Under the terms of Education Decree … " It was here that Chris grew bored, and put the whole scene on mute, a whitelighter ability Chris had mastered as a child, when he didn't want to hear the arguments between his parents, mostly because he seemed to be the root of every argument they had. He watched as Professor Flitwick charmed the two trunks belonged to Trelawney, floating them back up the stairs, Trelawney following him, still hiccupping slightly.

"You've found - ?" Umbridge was shrieking when Chris finally took the scene off mute, making him wish he really hadn't. "You've found? Might I remind you, Dumbledore, that under Education Decree Number Twenty-two - "

"The Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if - and only if - the Headmaster is unable to find one," Dumbledore recalled, looking up at Umbridge with a look of mild amusement. "And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?" he finished, turning to face the open front doors, everyone in the Great Hall following suit. A shocked murmur coursed around the Great, those closest to the door moving back as quickly as they could, some even tripping up over their own feet, a path quickly being made.

Through the front doors came a shock of white-blond hair, and striking blue eyes, the head and torso of a man joined to the palomino body of a horse. The centaur walked up to join Dumbledore, stopping only once in front of Chris, who had managed to find himself being pushed to the front of the crowd. It, no, he stared at Chris, recognising the power in him, or at least the source of it, and bowed low before him. Chris frowned. The centaur stood tall again, and continued on his walk, finishing by standing next to Dumbledore, the only one who hadn't seemed fazed by the creature's action to Chris.

"This is Firenze, I think you'll find him suitable," he said in a chipper tone of voice to a thunderstruck Umbridge. Chris smirked at the sight, moving himself forward so that he was now in Umbridge's eye sight.

"Well, this is gonna be fun," he called loudly, a dangerous smirk directed towards Umbridge, "might even see some fireworks."