A/N: Again, and as always, thanks for the reviews.
Now with two comments, yes I did pull it from 'Dune'. Landsraad, the body that represented the ruling Great Houses in the Imperium. I just butchered it a bit when I wanted to have a screen name and couldn't remember exactly how it was spelled. And poof, something (mostly) unique.
I really should figure out how what category this falls under. I know it is at least one part humor... but everything else, I have no clue.
But I digress. On with the show!
Chapter 28: The Dementors of Hogwarts
Harry slid off of Leon, looking around the dark room of the Manor.
"Yes, Leon, I'll get you the seven chickens as soon as I can when we get to Hogwarts."
The wolf just looked at the teen.
"How do I know that there will be chickens at Hogwarts? Because Hagrid had roosters that were killed by whoever Riddle was using as a meat-puppet last year."
Nodding, the wolf shrunk to what would be a size more suitable to moving around the Manor... or Hogwarts. Harry gave him a dirty look.
"You know what, I'm not even going to ask why you stayed as the more massive version for the past four weeks. It'd probably give me a headache."
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he went to look for Sirius, who, if Harry remembered correctly (and he always remembered correctly), should have gotten back three days ago. Knowing how the Marauder had put off more important things to go to his beaches, he would probably be in the office attached to the Master Suite.
So hauling his backside up to the top floor, he knocked on Padfoot's door, and entered when he heard the man bellow that he was decent. Making his way to the office, Harry pulled a nearby chair to face the Head of the House of Black.
"So, why so serious?"
Padfoot groaned and turned toward his godson.
"I do not know why, but only Potters seem to be able to pull of that pun without cracking up. I don't know why."
"My theory is that we all have some form of hereditary insanity."
Sirius just stared at the teen, whose hair was still black with lots of red, but was back to its normal length.
"Hey, I picked up another familiar while at our first stop. It only took me a few days to adjust to the fact that I now had a giant shadow wolf that would follow me around for the rest of my unnatural life."
All the man did in response to this was quirk an eyebrow.
"So what are you working on, Sirius?"
"... Why are you interested?"
"I'm bored and don't want to go to the Alley until tomorrow. I don't feel like studying, I know it is a shock, I'm to wired to practice my spellcasting, which still hasn't completely recovered from having a basilisk fang slammed through my forearm, flying might be an option, but I actually want to be in the real sky than a basement. So that leaves either talking to you or my familiars. I'd prefer human company."
The Marauder shrugged, and said, "I'm going over the invoices of everything the House gained from the Malfoys and Lestranges."
"Paperwork?" Harry's face scrunched in thought for a moment, "I could do some paperwork. Want some help?"
Sirius blinked. Maybe Harry was right about the hereditary insanity. No sane person wanted to do paperwork. "Help yourself pup. Need to talk to you about something, though."
Picking up a folder and readjusting his glasses, Harry said, "I have a feeling this will be an unpleasant conversation."
"Indeed. There was a break out from Azkaban."
"I'm not going to say that that should be impossible. No prison is foolproof, and anyone that believes so is a fool themselves."
"Anyway, the escapee was a Death Eater. Hasn't been caught yet."
"And you are bringing this to my attention, because? There are plenty of," he made a set of quotes with his fingers, " 'pardoned' Death Eaters hanging around and none of the threats to my life have come from them."
"Yeah, well this escapee wasn't all too stable when she went in. And the Aurors have theorized that she could have one of two targets."
"One of which I assume is me."
"Yup. The other is Neville."
Harry blinked at that, and then said, "So it was Bellatrix, huh?"
Sirius just stared dumbfounded at Harry.
"There were very few female Death Eaters that ended up in Azkaban. Hell, there were few known female Death Eaters, period. There is only one known that would have any reason to go after a Longbottom. Ergo, the escapee is in all likelihood, Bellatrix Black, formerly Lestrange. Am I correct?"
"You are indeed pup. So, the Minister, in his infinite wisdom, is putting Hogwarts under guard until she is caught. The guard will consist almost solely of Dementors."
"Do you know how many?"
"One hundred fifty-seven."
"That is almost the entire garrison of the fortress, with only enough left over for a skeleton crew. What the hell is Fudge think... wait never mind. He's covering his ass, can't let his popularity rating slip too low... Oh this is interesting, Malfoy had a thirteen percent interest in the Prophet. The Lestranges had a seven..."
"Black has fifteen."
"Hrm... Need to talk to Griphook, see how much the Potters have. We might be able to get a controlling interest in the paper without too much of a fuss. Maybe then they could actually be made to print truth instead of rumors and gossip."
"Good idea. Oh by the way, Nicolas and Perenelle are going to be here for dinner on Wednesday."
Harry grunted and then the pair worked in silence for another ten minutes, and then a sound of sheer disgust ripped from Harry's throat.
"What's wrong pup?"
"There is a... stockpile, for lack of a better word, of attuned potions, all designed to inhibit a person's free will in some way shape or form. It's like reading the pharmacy list for some twisted healing regime. And from what I'm reading, they've been under preservation charms..."
"That makes me wonder two things. One easy, one difficult. Which House did they come from, and who was the poor soul they were attuned to?"
The trip to Diagon Alley was quick and painless. Harry's Hogwarts letter was waiting for him, a mail redirection having been placed for the duration of the trip. His friends knew that he would be out of touch for the duration of the summer, so that only post he had waiting for him were official correspondence from the school and Gringotts and the massive stack of Daily Prophets. He knew he had forgotten something. And that something had been a hold on his subscription.
His reading had turned over to a new focus. In his search for inscription spells, he had come up with what could very well be an extremely brilliant and time-saving idea. A couple of ideas actually, that if they all worked together like he thought they should... Well, he would probably spend a couple days bouncing off the walls if it did.
Dinner on Wednesday went over well. The talk mostly centered on their various trips, though Nicolas and Perenelle had remained in the country. Harry smiled faintly as Sirius tried to pull attention away from the fact that his trip was about seeing beautiful young women in bathing suits. Remus avoided touching on the real reason he had taken his trip. Harry idly spoke about what he had learned.
After dinner, Nicolas pulled Harry aside and handed him a potion and a small box.
"I want to warn you. What the potion does is going to hurt. Badly. But I am certain you will like the results."
Harry stared darkly at the vile vial he was holding for a moment, he put the box down on a nearby table, shrugged, and downed it in one gulp.
He was driven to his knees moments later, clutching his face in pain. He was vaguely aware of someone screaming. It may very well have been him. It felt like something was melting his eyes.
And it was over as quickly as it began. He was lying in a heap on the floor, panting and sweating. Everything seemed fuzzy. Like how the world looked when he had his glasses off.
But he had his glasses on... And then a thought wormed its way into his head.
He sat up, taking his spectacles off. He could see!
He then turned to Nicolas, confused.
"The fix for the Mage Sight needed your normal vision corrected. In the box is a pair of glasses that will block your Sight. The biggest problem was that the glasses couldn't have any form of vision correction on them, magical or mundane. So..."
"You fixed my eyes. Thanks. Still hurt like hell."
"I warned you. Just imagine if you had the pain tolerance of a normal person."
"I can see why there are still glasses in the wizarding world."
And September First came. Harry had finally stopped having headaches with the addition of the Sight-blocking glasses. He had always assumed it was something along the lines of a minor case of sensory overload. Even if his Mage Sense wasn't bombarding him anymore, he could still feel all the energy around him.
He wondered how bad it would be when he got to Hogwarts. He hadn't been back to the Alley since he had gotten the glasses, and that was the only place he could think of that would have anywhere near the magic of Hogwarts.
He'd just have to play it by ear.
He was one of the first on the platform, as always. He liked being early, having his choice of compartments, being able to get comfortable before the train filled with humanity. He also had gotten his Hogsmeade permission slip signed by Nicolas.
Leon had taken the space on the floor by the window, and Harry was in the seat there, his boots off and was sitting cross-legged. He had his backpack in his lap, and was idly double checking the contents. He had all of his set linking books, a few emergency potions he had taken to packing, and a then an ungodly amount of chocolate, all kept under cooling charms.
If Hogwarts was playing host to the majority of the Dementor garrison, it probably wasn't enough chocolate.
He pulled out a linking book bound to 'magical beings'. "Dementors."
He started reading.
The train was pulling from the station, and his friends had all frozen for an instant at seeing his newest familiar. But having been confronted by a basilisk last year as his newest companion, they got over quick. Well, everyone except Luna. She had scratched Leon behind the ears and serenely taken a seat.
Harry idly thought that whatever brand of insanity he had seemed to be spreading. But then again, Luna had her own brand of crazy.
Neville had gotten there first, and they had a quick conversation concerning Bellatrix. They both hoped that their would be no restrictions on their Hogsmeade visits, but that it was entirely possible 'for their own protection'.
Harry only half minded. He had had the twins making purchases from the village for him from halfway through the first year, and what they couldn't get he could owl-order. Neville was a little more upset at the possibility. He wanted to actually be able to go down to the village.
Hermione rattled off half a dozen facts about the village when they talked to her about it. The more people change the more they stay the same. It was actually almost endearing when you got used to it.
The Ferret failed to make his yearly appearance. Harry idly wondered how the poverty (as the Malfoys saw it, even though they were still fairly well off by the standards of most of the wizarding world) was treating him.
Instead they got a visit from the Weasel.
"Well, well, if it isn't Scarhead and the other freaks of Gryffindor, honestly how anyone can stand being in the same House as you lot, I don't know. I mean, who in their right mind as animals following them around? And the near-squib Longbottom, don't even get me started on that. There is of course the castle's resident know-it-all bookworm. And Loony Lovegood. If I must say..."
Harry turned the page of his book as everyone else in the compartment sent a different hex at Ronald. And if his senses were right, a pair more came from out in the corridor. Of course, he was proven right as Fred and George stepped over their brother.
"George, I cannot believe..."
"... that we are related to that git."
Harry took a moment to memorize just how each twin registered to his Mage Sense. He was sure as hell not going to miss a chance to tell the difference between the two. He'd take a few weeks to figure iron it out, make sure he could tell them apart in his head, but once he could...
A grin graced his face as turned another page.
Rain had been lashing the window for the past hour. And for some reason the train was starting to slow down. That wasn't right, they were will an hour out from the station.
This couldn't be good.
And it got worse as the train stopped entirely and the lights went out. Moments later, Harry was muttering a quick spell and flicking half a dozen spheres of softly pulsating light into the air. He felt something akin to frost creeping up the outside of his mental shields.
He felt the bottom fall out of his stomach, as they sat in silence for a few minutes. Harry could almost feel ice growing on his mental barriers, worming its way through the minute gaps in his defenses. He quickly tagged any areas that were more than the smallest cracks. He'd deal with the two or three later. He had a gut feeling about what had made its way onto the train.
And he was right as a Dementor made its way to the door of the compartment and started to open it. The ice thickened when the thing came into sight. Harry made a few mental notes about the being, theories and facts. From everything he had read, the Ministry should have been looking for a means of destroying these things instead of employing them.
"For Dementors glory in fear, death, and decay; and dwell in the dank and dark. Destroyers of happiness and devourers of souls."
He also felt frost spreading from a number of memory containers in his inner mind. He made a quick list of which ones would need better containment.
He could see the color draining from the faces of his friends. His wand was still out from his setting of the light spells. So he stood, sub-vocally setting a high-power fire spell at the ready. His wand tip lit with bright blue flames. He felt his shields groan under the weight of the Dementor's presence, felt his worst memories working their way to the forefront of his mind. He had to act quick, or he'd be incapacitated quickly. He really needed to learn the Patronus.
He leveled his wand at the demon. "None of us are hiding Bellatrix Black here. Leave now, or I get to test my theory on whether or not your kind can stand up to ridiculously overpowered high-tier fire spells."
The hood of Dementor's cloak moved from pointing at Harry's face, to his burning wand tip, and back to his face. It turned and left. Harry barely made his way back to his seat before he collapsed. In a few minutes the lights were back on and the train was moving again.
Everyone in the compartment looked like they had just gotten over the flu.
Hermione was the first to break the silence, "I can't believe they are setting those... things around a school!"
Harry grunted his disconsolately, canceled both the fire spell and the orbs of light, "Well belief it. From what I could track in the papers, the announcement that the Dementors would be stationed at Hogwarts followed shortly after the Minister's approval rating had dropped a total of ten points since the break out. Sirius agrees with me on the belief that he thought he needed to be seen doing something."
He then started tossing everyone a bar of chocolate.
Neville had a grim smile as he said, before taking a bite of chocolate, "Only you, Harry, would threaten to torch a Dementor."
"Hey, I lacked the one spell proven to work against them, but from all I've read, no one has tried the 'Kill it with fire' approach to those things. From its reaction I don't think it has either."
Harry was slumped at the Gryffindor table, waiting for the Sorting, and by extension the Feast, to start. McGonagall had grabbed Hermione for one reason or another. His list of most hated things in the world had gotten a new occupant, and it had debuted at number two. God, he hated Dementors. He looked up at the head table and stared.
And then he spoke, "Why the Hell is Sirius sitting at the head table?"
That brought the rest of the rather shell shocked group back to the present and they stared at their apparently new teacher.
This wasn't going to end well. Former Auror Sirius may have been, but there was no way in hell that this was going to end well. Harry felt bad for the poor firsties.
And speaking of firsties, McGonagall was leading them in, Hermione was taking a seat across from him, and the hat was singing its song:
(Once more, another song
I cannot write verse to save my life
let us move along)
Harry watched with his normal passive interest (he'd remember who was who if nothing else, and given a few firsties had approached him for homework help last year after he was caught helping Luna, it was amusing when he had called them by name), and applauded when they got new Lions, and then cheered when the last one was sorted.
Dumbledore made his normal inane pre-food speech. And then Harry ate like a man who had been lost in the wilderness. Having gotten most of the summer catch-up done on the train, his friends spoke mainly about how much of a horror it would be with the less mature Marauder teaching Defense.
When the food was finally gone, Dumbles gave his real announcements. Professor Sirius Black (Moony looked to be chuckling while he had a look of horror on his face, Harry didn't know how he managed that) would be taking over Defense, and Professor Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank was taking over for Professor Kettleburn, who had retired to spend quality time with his remaining limb, along with Assistant Professor Hagrid.
Now who's bright idea was that? Even Harry was afraid of some of the beasts that Hagrid called cute, and he had the least sense of self-preservation out of the entire student body. At least he wasn't in charge, so they probably wouldn't be seeing anything too deadly. Yet.
Harry had caught up with Alistair last night, and though they still had most of Harry's summer to speak about, they could do that at their leisure. The Hat was very grumpy about the Dementors, but neither he nor the castle had access to the kind of firepower needed to run the things off, short of throwing up the siege wards. And Hogwarts had immediately shot down that suggestion when Al had made it.
At breakfast the next morning, Harry saw just how cramped his class schedule was. He had been expecting it, but in the end he only had one hour off of classes a day, except on Fridays.
One Fridays he had two.
He wondered if he would undergo a mental breakdown when O.W.L.s rolled around. He hoped not. If standardized testing sent him comatose how the hell would he handle the Dark Tosser?
The only thing he objected to was having Potions first thing on Thursdays. Today was a Thursday.
He'd survive, he just wouldn't be happy about it. But then again, Leon was here under the table getting passed the occasional strip of bacon (note to self, talk to Hagrid in regards to owed chickens), maybe he could be talked into coming to potions... Maybe he would be happy about it.
Harry was grinning from ear to ear after Potions. None of the more git-like Snakes were willing to even think about sabotaging his work when he had a wolf heeling him.
Professor Vector, teacher of Arithmancy, had passed out a test very first thing. It ranged from basic arithmetic to some fairly heavy algebra. Harry demolished the test, figuratively of course, and handed it back. He was told to read his textbook for the remainder of class.
Instead he watched who he shared the class with. There was Hermione, of course, and she was the only other Gryffindor in the room. There were also only two Hufflepuffs in the room, Susan Bones (wonder if she was any relation to the director of the DMLE) and Justin Finch-Fletchley (he had always seemed a little pompous). There were three Slytherins present along with three Ravenclaws. The scaly contingent consisted of Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, and Blaise Zabini (which Harry firmly believed was a girl's name). The Ravens were Su Li, Terry Boot, and Padma Patil (gladly there was a ready made way to tell that pair of twins apart).
Runes was, as Harry expected, suitable boring in its first year. They would indeed be memorizing different sets of runes (until, Professor Babbling said, they knew them by heart; which did a fat lot of good for Harry and his perfect recall, though he knew enough to keep his big mouth shut). They would be working primarily with Norse runes.
Harry would be glad for the rest for his poor abused brain cells that this class would give him.
The other classes that he had before the weekend, Charms, History, Herbology, and Transfiguration were all fairly normal. Harry had already read the what needed to be read, practiced most of the spellwork, and only really had to take notes (which he only did half the time anyway).
On Saturday, Harry slumped down into a seat in the Great Hall with only one thought.
Wood had gone (even more) insane.
He had dragged the sleeping members of the team (and Harry) down to the pitch at an inhumane hour, and started to give a rousing speech to the comatose players. Harry played Cat's Cradle. Wood then continued to go over plays and strategies with the those who were still asleep and those who were only mostly asleep. Harry would really have to thank Remus for the yo-yo.
He then forced everyone into the air, and worked them until noon. Harry had dive bombed him every fifteen minutes like clockwork. Ollie was really being a git about this. The others really needed their sleep, and Harry would rather be reading.
Two weeks later, Hermione cornered Harry in the common room. She looked angry as hell. She babbled on for five minutes about how she had yet to see Harry do any homework, and asked how he was completing his assignments.
Harry set his bag down, pulled out some parchment and an inkpot, and set them down on a table, the inkpot on the parchment. Hermione was still babbling. He knew she was just worried, so this would probably calm her down. And irritate her.
He shushed her, closed his eyes, and muttered an incantation that took about ten seconds. At the end he tapped his wand to the parchment. One of their assignments, Snape's ten inches on the potion he had had them brew on Thursday, wrote itself out on the parchment.
Hermione was speechless. Harry looked like the cat that ate the canary.
Then she of course made him explain.
It was rather simple. He used the fact that he simply had more time in his mindscape to research and put together his assignments, and then using a rather esoteric and little known scribing spell that took what was going to be written from the user's mind in its entirety.
Harry was fairly certain that a deranged N.E.W.T.s student who had a mind similar to his own made or modified the spell. Hermione refused to talk to him for a week. She never had really forgiven him for her inability to do more than the most basic Occlumency.
It wasn't his fault!
A/N2: Not sure if I've ever mentioned it, but this is my first stab at any form of creative writing outside of what is needed for education. So anyone with major complaints about plot, cliches, and such things can go take a long walk off a short pier.
This year's schedule.
Mon
9 Double Charms w/Ravenclaw
10 -~-~-~-~-
11 Arithmancy
12 Free
1 Lunch
2 Double History w/Ravenclaw
3 -~-~-~-~-
4 Double Defense w/Slytherin
5 -~-~-~-~-
Tue
9 Double Creatures w/Slytherin
10 -~-~-~-~-
11 Double Potions w/Slytherin
12 -~-~-~-~-
1 Lunch
2 Double Transfiguration w/Hufflepuff
3 -~-~-~-~-
4 Ancient Runes
5 Free
10~11 Astronomy
Wed
9 Double Defense w/Slytherin
10 -~-~-~-~-
11 Double Creatures w/Slytherin
12 -~-~-~-~-
1 Lunch
2 Double Herbology w/Hufflepuff
3 -~-~-~-~-
4 Ancient Runes
5 Free
Thur
9 Double Potions w/Slytherin
10 -~-~-~-~-
11 Arithmancy
12 Free
1 Lunch
2 Double Charms w/Ravenclaw
3 -~-~-~-~-
4 Double History w/Ravenclaw
5 -~-~-~-~-
Fri
9 Double Herbology w/Hufflepuff
10 -~-~-~-~-
11 Double Transfiguration w/Hufflepuff
12 -~-~-~-~-
1 Lunch
2 Double Ancient Runes
3 -~-~-~-~-
4 Free
5 Free
Yes, he knew very well what he was getting into. Everything is still four class hours a week.
