On a completely separate note: My heartfelt thanks and gratitude to Nachtrae for taking the time to read, edit and comment on this Chapter. She does amazing work and I'm lucky to have her as my beta.

The same has to be said of my wife. She reads, comments, and pokes holes that help make the chapters even better. She's lurking over my shoulder as I write this. I think if I mention she pummeled me before, she will pummel me again -this time with something harder than a laptop…

Amusingly enough, there was equal parts hate mail and thank you regarding the pornography. I'm not sure if I should laugh or cry about that. For those who wondered why, two reasons: Keep a few readers happy, and more importantly, I saw it as a challenge. Never done it before so I thought I'd give it a shot. Challenge done, so enough said.

Chapter 49

Can I Get an Interview?

Harry awoke with a start. 'Dreams are one thing, but when you start dreaming about dreams,' he was convinced that at this rate, it would not be long before he killed Voldemort just to get a decent night's sleep. He turned and stared at the clock, and then turned his attention to the cloud heavy sky that obscured the sliver of visible moon. He let his mind wander over the vision that he had replayed in his sleep, wondering, yet again, what it meant….

In the vision, he saw himself standing in a dark curtained room. There was a high backed armchair and he could see long bone white fingers, splayed on the armrests, resting leisurely on the dark velvet of the chair. The candles cast a single pool of light upon a man in black robes, "I have been badly advised, it seems," said Harry. His voice was high, cold, and pulsed with anger."

"Master, I crave your pardon," croaked the man kneeling on the floor. The back of his head glimmered in the candlelight. He seemed to be trembling.

"I do not blame you, Rookwood," said Harry in that cold, cruel voice.

He relinquished his grip on the chair and walked around it, closer to the man cowering on the floor, until he stood directly over him in the darkness, looking down from a far greater height than usual."You are sure of your facts, Rookwood?" asked Harry.

"Yes, My Lord, yes… I used to work in the Department after ‐after all…"

"Avery told me Bode would be able to remove it."

"Bode could never have taken it, Master… Bode would have known he could not… undoubtedly, that is why he fought so hard against Malfoy's Imperius Curse…"

"Stand up, Rookwood," whispered Harry. The kneeling man almost fell over in his haste to obey. His face was pockmarked; the scars were thrown into relief by the candlelight. He remained a little stooped when standing, as though halfway through a bow, and he darted terrified looks up at Harry's face. "You have done well to tell me this," said Harry. "Very well… I have wasted months on fruitless schemes, it seems… but no matter… we begin again, from now. You have Lord Voldemort's gratitude, Rookwood…"

"My Lord… yes, My Lord," gasped Rookwood, his voice hoarse with relief.

"I shall need your help. I shall need all the information you can give me regarding the Department of Mysteries and the Hall of Prophecy."

"Of course, My Lord, of course… anything…"

"Very well… you may go. Send Avery to me."

Waking with a start, it took Harry a few minutes to put things back in perspective. "If only Occulemency could keep me from looking through that bastards mind." The link that bound the two together was something twisted, and more of a direction connection. There were times when he wished he could sever it completely, but there were times when it proved useful: Voldemort had unknowingly given Harry a new line of inquiry. He had delegated the investigation to Blake and Moony to figure out what exactly the Department of Mysteries did and whether the Hall of Prophecy was exactly was it sounded like. Unsurprisingly, it was exactly what it sounded like.

It took the two men only a few days of discreet inquiries to get two answers that were hand delivered by Dobby. Harry of course, had raised an eyebrow and said nothing, corresponding with Tonks by what Fred and George had taken to calling "House-Elf Express."

While this added more to Harry's workload, he said nothing and simply kept pushing forward. Tonks had confirmed that the Hall of Prophecy was exactly what it sounded like and that access to the Department of Mysteries, which housed the Hall of Prophecy, was what she had been guarding the night of her near fatal attack and rescue at the beginning of December the previous year.

Moody had been more than a little unwilling to write anything down given the possibility of Death Eater or someone else intercepting his mail, but he could not fault using Dobby as a messenger, "That elf will eat the message before surrendering it or betraying you."

The elf's loyalty was such that he had stood unapologetically before Harry, confessing that he had revealed the location of both Longbottom Manor and The Meadows to aid the Order of the Phoenix. His confession made, he had dropped to his knees before Harry and bared his neck, ready to accept the ultimate punishment for his crime.

The elf had been shocked when Harry had knelt next to him, "Stand up Dobby." He took the elf by the hand, "My friends, do not scrape, kneel or bow before me. My friends are my equals."

"But Dobby must be punished for breaking his vow to serve Harry," said the elf.

"Yes," Harry had agreed, "You must." He had long ago given up on trying to really change the perceptions of the House elf, let alone his behavior, and tended to work around it whenever possible. "Dobby, your will have no days off until the end of this month."

The elf had accepted his punishment. Considering that even on his alleged "days off" he cleaned the basement or attic just to keep busy, there was no real punishment. Dobby was quite sure Harry knew it, just as Harry knew he was not really punishing the elf at all. However, with Dobby the principal of the thing mattered. Harry was just glad he could work around it.

Moody's note was brief, without polite greeting or closing and got straight to the point, "Order members protect the entrance to the Department of Mysteries on sub level 9 of the Ministry. It was one of the first things Dumbledore arranged when he reactivated the Order. He has us guarding something, and if your information is accurate, then it is a prophecy. If Dumbledore lives up to his pattern of behavior and if it is a prophecy, then odds are good that it has something to do with you and Voldemort."

Having read, and filed the knowledge in his brain, he immediately burned the note as Moody had instructed. "The less paper you leave, the less you have to incriminate you and nothing related to me!" Fair enough Harry thought.

Wednesday afternoon, he sent Winky with a short note to the Headmaster and managed to arrange a meeting with the headmaster for that evening at precisely eight o'clock. Harry was as punctual as ever before the Gargoyle Guardian of the Headmaster's office when Rowena made her presence known, "Good Evening Harry. He neglected to provide the password again?"

Harry snorted, "More like he forgot on purpose. Think you can convince the Gargoyle to let me pass?"

She laughed, "Ask him yourself Harry."

He stared at the stone monstrosity for a long moment then glanced around the corridor. He was alone and figured it could not hurt, "Could you let me pass please?"

The stone sprang to life, "I have a name you know," it was clearly irritated.

"Apologies," said Harry, "I'm Har…"

"I know who you are," it snapped, "Harry Potter. Boy-who-lived, Chosen-One, The Savior." He could hear Rowena laughing. No doubt, she was having a little fun at his expense.

"I prefer to call myself, "Boy-with-too-many-unearned-hyphenated-irrelevant-titles," he retorted.

It studied him for a long moment, "Fair enough," said the gargoyle at last and began to move aside.

"Wait a sec," said Harry, "I never got your name."

"Napoleon" was the answer as it revealed the staircase.

He knocked and entered when the headmaster called him in. "Good evening, Mr. Potter." Said Dumbledore cordially, hiding his surprise with long practiced ease. "Your missive did not say why you requested this meeting." Given that bridges between the two were – at least Dumbledore hoped – burning, he had hopes of repairing them.

Harry however was convinced that those bridges were ashes and scattered on the wind. It galled that in spite of everything, he still had to go begging for information that concerned his life, his welfare and those of his friends and family. "Professor Dumbledore," greeted Harry with a cold politeness, "You've been holding out on me."

The headmaster felt his heartbeat pick up at the accusation, "You know things about my past, and future." For the first time in quite a few months, Albus Dumbledore felt the need to sit down, and down a glass of Ogden's Finest. However, at that moment, he would have settled for any beverage with the word "Ogden" in the name. "So tell me, what is hidden in the Department of Mysteries that Voldemort so desperately wants."

'If that is all he is asking for,' thought Dumbledore, 'he's welcome to it. Its time you knew. It's time that you realized that you need to help. To train you so that you can do what you have to do.' He took a lemon drop from the ever-present bowl of candy and popped in to his mouth with a gentle smile and a hint of the grandfatherly twinkle, "Yes Harry. It's time you knew."

Harry blinked. That was, unexpected to say the least. He'd expected to get the truth after extracting and handing Dumbledore several of his teeth - metaphorically of course. "I'm, listening."

"Voldemort seeks a prophecy, one that was made concerning you sometime before your parents were murdered."

"Really?" he said, completely deadpan, "I already know it."

Albus nearly choked on his candy, "What? How?" he blurted.

Harry waved a hand dismissively, "The goblins have had it in their archives for years." He stood, "That's what all this is about? A damn prophecy! Fortune telling and divination that's not exactly accurate, open to multiple interpretations, what ifs and maybes," He stared at Dumbledore, still seated behind his desk, "I get it. I am the bloody savior or destroyer. I am one or the other. You could have told me this crap, when I asked you the first time."

"Mr. Potter," interrupted Dumbledore, "On that, I ask you to be reasonable! You were eleven years old! You were far too young to know! Far too young to have to shoulder such a burden! I wanted you to have a life, a childhood."

Harry's laugh was bitter, "Sure, a childhood. What kind of childhood did you think I had with that bitch aunt? The uncle who physically abused and assaulted me for everything that was wrong with his life! The cousin who made 'Harry Hunting' a sport! Some fucking childhood you gave me."

Dumbledore was halfway out of his seat, "I will not be spoken to with such disrespect!"

Harry's hands flexed, reflexively as magic fizzled, scenting the air with an acrid burnt metal smell, "My respect," he said forcefully, "is something that most people start with and then rapidly loose. Some people have an opportunity to earn it back. Most, don't. Some," he continued ominously, "Never get it, or get to earn it!"

"But now I know: Voldemort is my problem. So I will deal with him." He turned to leave, "Oh yeah, you better have the Order of the Phoenix in training. Cause they are worthless in a duel, and body bag filling in a battle."

"How do you know about the Order?" Dumbledore had seen his greatest hope of mending the fence go up in smoke because the boy already knew of Trelawney's prediction and it had thrown him of his game. He regretted the question the moment he blurted it.

Harry's response sent an unfamiliar and very cold trickle down the headmaster's spine, "I'm Harry Potter. I know everything."

All Harry had done was confirm all of Dumbledore's worst fears: The boy was going dark and what was worse, there was no doubt in his mind that not only was he going dark, but he was also tainting and dragging every person who associated with him down the same dark path. He buried his head in hands, wondering what he could do to save not just Harry, but the wizarding world. Especially if his worst fear and nightmare came true: Harry allying himself with Voldemort. "There is nothing on this earth that will be able to stop them." He whispered to himself.

Watching quietly from his perch, for the first time in almost twenty years, the Phoenix felt that there might be some hope for Professor Dumbledore. The phoenix hopped down from his perch and, sitting on the edge of the desk, sang a few soft, gentle notes. "Perhaps, Fawkes," said Dumbledore soberly, "You are right, old friend. Long have I ignored your council. Tell me, is it too late?"

The mighty phoenix gave his equivalent of a shrug. When it came right down to it, Fawkes was immortal and despite his immortality, knew he had not seen enough to provide an answer that would satisfy the headmaster.

'So,' thought Dumbledore as he stroked Fawkes gently, 'it all starts again, starts with the Order of the Phoenix. They must train to fight, and fight not only Voldemort and his Death Eaters, but perhaps… Harry as well.'

Leaving the headmaster's office, Harry' made his way through the castle and out on to the grounds where he collapsed against a tree, staring out across the lake for a long few minutes. There was no getting away from it anymore. He had tried, and tried and tried but he would never trust Dumbledore, nor be able to work with him. He had made it plain and simple: Voldemort was his problem. Not Dumbledore's. Not the Ministry's. His. He cast his mind back over the prophecy that Griphook had shared with him months ago.

"Poisoned by the King of Serpents

Saved by the tears of the Light

A champion shall arise from amongst Champions

Saved by the tears of that which embodies the Light

He shall have the power to banish the seven times sundered soul of evil

Poisoned by King of Serpents

He shall have the power to remake the world to his will

Love shall be the key: To salvation or damnation

He frowned as something occurred to him, and he cursed: Why would Voldemort go after him over this prophecy? It said nothing specific or even remotely related to Voldemort or any of his death eaters. 'This was not the prophecy Dumbledore was talking about.' Harry groaned as he rested his head on the trunk of the tree.

He made a decision that day, by himself with only the twinkling stars of the night sky. He stared across the waters of the Black Lake for a long moment: He was going to get that prophecy, the one the Ministry had, that Dumbledore had hidden from him. He would start legally, but at the end of the day, he would get it, by any means necessary.

He walked across the grounds of the castle and out the front gates where he apparated home to a quiet evening with his girlfriend and the permanent residents of Potter Manor. The evening's game of chess saw the team of Blake and Moony simply obliterate their rival team composed of Harry and Fleur in three straight games before the losers retired for the evening.

It was early morning, ridiculously early even by Harry's standards when it started to get warm. He woke, swatting at his hand where the Legion's ring had actually grown incredibly warm. He glanced at the string of numbers and frowned. He sat up, curled his toes in to the carpet while rolling his shoulder that produced a string of cracks, followed by a stretch that caused his neck and spine to pop. He gave Fleur a sheepish glance but she had reacted by burrowing her head as far under her pillows as possible, followed by pulling the duvet over head. He slipped out the door and made his way to the Manor's travel room. He was about to leave when he hesitated, his paranoid streak suddenly kicking in.

He wrenched open a cupboard and donned the breast and back plates of his armor followed by the greaves and cuisses to protect his legs followed by the rerebraces and vampbraces to protect his arms fully. It was the same suit of basilisk hide armor from the Triwizard Tournament and in every combat encounter since then; it had protected and saved his life.

He took the Floo to the Residence and pulled his invisibility cloak around him before ascending the stairs in to the Castle. The Legion rings were not capable of sending traditional text messages but he had drilled the Legion with a selection of four digit number strings that were actually messages. The first two numbers were a numerical identifier for the member who was sending the message, and Harry was of course, "01." Number "39" identified Susan Bones as the sender, "6661."

"666" meant that she needed to talk to him, and "1" gave him the location: The Room of Requirement. Protected by his invisibility cloak, he found it simple enough to dodge the prefects on patrol, Filch and Ms. Norris. He also had to resist the temptation to giving the later pair a swift kick for old times' sake. He slipped in to the Room of Requirement, to find an empty white space, with two armchairs set around a small side table. True to form, Susan had a wand raised and the faint glimmer indicated a shield was up.

He lowered the hood of his cloak, "Nice," he commented. He pulled of the cloak and she dropped her shield, "What was so urgent, that you couldn't wait till tomorrow?"

She hesitated, "I… don't know what is going on, but this arrived for you. It's from my aunt." That raised one of his eyebrows, and he noted that she seemed, stressed, hesitant about something, "I don't know what's in that, but my aunt has taken a risk to send this to you, through me. I'd like to know what it says."

"The less you know," Harry said quietly, "The safer you probably are."

"You're one to talk," she replied, "Legion alone could get me expelled."

He stayed silent at that rebuttal: He had no way of getting around that. Instead, he tore open the envelope and read the letter. His eyes widened and it took him a long few moments to get first his emotions, then his thoughts in to order. Then he reread the letter again. It was from Amelia Bones and was half plea, half warning. The first half asked him not to mention anything that the letter contained to anyone, "especially anyone who shares my family name." The second half had nearly set him off.

"Susan," he said quietly, "I am, breaking trust, and confidence to tell you this. And, I swear it's the absolute truth: Your aunt does not want you to know anything. I break her trust by telling you that. Do you understand?"

The Hufflepuff nodded, "What do I do?"

"You need to get back to your dorm, and forget that you ever saw me, that you delivered this letter, and forget this entire conversation." He replied. She nodded in agreement and turned towards the door. She was clearly less than pleased with the situation and Harry acted with blinding speed. Susan Bones slumped to the floor, fast asleep from the sleeping charm, 'Forgive me, Susan,' he thought, 'But I do this, to protect you, to protect your aunt.'

Carefully, he entered her mind using Legilimency and located the memories, going back only a few short hours to the moment she had received the letter from her aunt: It had come directly to her via the family's house elf. With the memories at the forefront of her mind thanks to his gentle probing, he raised his wand, "Obliviate!"

"Dobby!" the house elf apparated in without a sound, "Please take Ms. Bones back to her common room. Lay her out on a couch, make her comfortable and leave." The elf nodded and took Susan's hand and vanished without a sound.

Harry smiled grimly, "Time to raise seven shades of hell, and nine shades of shit." He stalked the corridors of the castle, making his way toward the last place in Hogwarts he wanted to go: Dumbledore's office.

"Rowena," he asked mentally "Is the headmaster awake?"

"Going to pick another fight Harry?" she asked coyly.

"Going to try to prevent protectorates of House Potter from being arrested by the Ministry," he replied mentally.

She laughed and when he did not join her, she realized that he was serious, "Yes. He is awake. Shall I tell Napoleon to expect you?"

"Please," he replied. He was trying desperately to formulate a plan of action, something anything and he quickly concluded that he was out of his depth. He glanced at his watch and realized that he did not have time to meet his legal team.

"If you cannot go to them, can you not bring them to you?" suggested Rowena.

Harry smiled, 'If I could, I'd kiss you,' he thought. Summoning Winky, he explained her tasks and she vanished moments before he arrived at the Gargoyle, "Morning Napoleon."

"Morning Harry," he replied, "Headmaster can't sleep. Neither could you?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Something like that. What's the old man been up to?"

"He's up to something," replied the Gargoyle, "He got a message by owl just before midnight and he's been planning and strategizing ever since. And, it's definitely got something to do with you. He's said your name several times…"

"He's always up to something where I'm concerned. What else Napoleon?"

"Two other names have been said, repeatedly: Luna Lovegood and Colin Creevy."

That, confirmed everything he knew. "Thanks Napoleon. Would you mind?" The gargoyle swung aside and Harry walked up the stairs and knocked on the office door. He heard the muffled sound of conversation hurriedly cut off. Possibly a Floo call.

"Come in!"

He strode in to the office much to Dumbledore's surprise who was dressed in the most lurid of purple nightgowns with lime green stars that seemed to twinkle. "The Ministry," he said quietly, "will come for Luna Lovegood, and Colin Creevey. They are to be arrested on charges of slander and sedition. As their legal guardian, were you planning on telling me about this?"

Dumbledore had quite simply given up trying to figure out how Harry got the information he possessed. He felt as old as he actually was, and at over a hundred and fifty, that was really a lot of weight to carry. "Har… Mr. Potter," said the headmaster cordially, "I did not wish to trouble you with…"

"Spare me the sanctimony." he said coldly, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions and you're more than two-thirds of the way there, and the devil's waiting with open arms! Speaking as their guardian while they are at school, they are under your protection. What are you going to do?"

The headmaster sat down, and met the unflinching glare from Harry. He could not help but wonder where had it all gone so horribly wrong? He found himself wondering if there was a time turner that could send him back two years or so, to head off all these complications. "There is nothing I can do," said Dumbledore helplessly, "I am the headmaster but these charges stem from the Minister of Magic's office."

"May have come from Fudge," said Harry acidly, "But Director Bones refused to carry out these orders. An emergency session of the Wizengamot met and by a narrow margin and she has been impeached and removed from office."

"I am the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, but even I cannot overrule a decision when the votes were 47 to 44 in favor of removing Amelia Bones from office. I cannot overrule democracy!"

"So you will let them take two of your students, who just happen to be, under the Ministry's own damn laws, my children?" he growled, "'Do not do what is easy, do what is right!' You used the memory of a fallen friend, of Hermione Granger to make that proclamation. "

Dumbledore stayed silent, letting Harry speak his piece for the moment, "You are doing exactly what you told people not to do! And you hold so many different positions! Head of the International Confederation of Wizards! The Chief of the Wizengamot! All that power! And you can't use it to do the right thing!"

"I cannot abuse my power in such a fashion," he said as calmly as he could.

"Abuse? Who said anything about abusing your power? I'm asking you to use it! The greatest wizard of the age they call you." He said with absolute disgust. "They are not my children by blood, but they are my responsibility. Beyond that, they are my brother and my sister. I will not run and hide from the Ministry!"

"Harry! See reason!" pleaded the headmaster, "You cannot fight the Ministry and win!"

He took a deep breath, and realized that the Headmaster was right about that at least. However, there was no backing down, "I can't fight the Ministry and win," Harry agreed, "But their Aurors should be simple enough."

"You would shed blood in the Castle Harry? I thought you were better than that," chastised Dumbledore, "These men and women may serve a corrupt government, but they are otherwise innocent."

"Death Eaters are innocent of nothing, and guilty of everything," said Harry as he stormed to his feet, "I only ask this once: Are you going to do anything to help them? To help students under your protection, headmaster?"

For a long moment, the pair stared at each other. Given that only hours before, he had found himself without hope of every rebuilding any bridge or repairing the relationship, he saw an opportunity being presented here, right this moment, "I do not know what you plan to do Harry, but so long as you act within the letter of the law, you will have my support."

Harry bit his lip as he considered the offer, "Words don't mean much, headmaster. But, we shall see. Actions, speak louder than words after all." He turned and strode out of the office. For the umpteenth time, Dumbledore was left to wonder just how it was he could get past the Gargoyle and through the locking charms and wards upon the door on his office, as if they were never there.

Winky had arrived at Gringotts in the middle of the night, but given that she came on behalf of Harry Potter, Griphook and Marinshka saw her immediately, and the result of that brief conversation saw the pair of Goblins awaiting Harry's arrival. When he stormed in to the Residence, he was on the verge of tearing his hair out in frustration. "I have too many enemies, and I can't just kill them all and let God sort em out!"

Both Goblins waited, letting Harry vent some of his frustrations before he updated them on the one key change: Dumbledore would support whatever Harry did, so long as it was legal. Marinashka was suddenly very busy as she leafed through a number of heavy tomes on wizarding law that emerged from a ridiculously small bag.

Both Goblins were muttering to each other in high speed Goblin and looked rather pensieve as the hours wore on. Daylight was fast approaching when they were ready. Harry had nodded off but was awake the moment they called him. "This is going to be one of those good news bad news scenarios isn't it?" Both Goblins nodded, "Alright, hit me with it."

"The charges are very serious, and were filed with the appropriate authorities. Legally, they have every right to interview both Mr. Creevy and Ms. Lovegood."

Thinking quickly, "Do they have the right to arrest them?" Harry asked.

Marinashka gave him a smile, "Going by the letter of the law: No. But normally such interviews are conducted in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement…" she had no need to say anything else on the subject, as Harry nodded his understanding.

"What's the good news?"

"The charges can be thrown out of court with ease."Harry blinked, "Sedition as a crime specifically refers to seditious libel which is "a direct incitement that the people should make use of physical force as their own resource to obtain justice, and meant to excite the people to take the power in to their own hands, and meant to excite them to tumult and disorder."" She had been reading straight from the book, "All either of them have done is publish a series of articles and interviews, and Luna's personal opinion."

"There's a catch somewhere," remarked Harry as Dobby and Winky popped in and quietly, but efficiently began pouring tea, coffee and serving breakfast. "And I see it as neither of them getting a fair trial. Best case, Quibbler gets shut down. Worst case…" he tried not to think about that.

Things had developed on their own however, as Rowena interrupted, "Harry, there is a group at the front gate, and they are making their way to the castle. Eight individuals total."

Harry was on his feet in a moment, "They're here!" he said abruptly, "I will send one of the elves when the time is right." He turned his attention to the ring on his finger and set a message to six other people, including Fleur, "Winky, please collect Fleur from the Manor and bring her to the Great Hall." The elf was gone in a flash and Harry made his way out of the Residence, leaving the two Goblins to sit, and wait.

"He has matured, has he not?" asked Marinashka quietly.

"He has," agreed Griphook, "He takes the weight of the world upon his shoulders, and without wondering if he is up to the task."

"You think he will fail, husband?" she asked.

"No. I think he will succeed. But I fear the price that victory over Voldemort may cost."

"Him or the wizarding world?" she asked.

"Both," replied Griphook, "The foretold prophecy has already been set in motion. This I cannot doubt, but I fear that in striving to defeat Voldemort, and the Ministry, Harry may become as evil, if not worse."

"There are times when evil, must be fought by another kind of evil," she said quietly.

"But is it worth trading one Dark Lord for, potentially, another?" he countered. "I can advise him, and guide him only so much. He is his own man, and he makes his own choices, and must bear the consequences of his actions. Good and ill."

The fireplace flared to life, the flames taking on a dark green hue as Fleur glided out of the flames, wand in hand. She stared at the Goblins for a long moment, "Blahgrast Diedom." They returned the greeting in kind, "Harry is already on his way to the Great Hall?" She left without another word, making her way through the Castle as if she was a student, not an unexpected visitor.

"She keeps him grounded," said Marinashka, "He may be the savior of our world, but she is his savior."

Griphook agreed, "Without her, what you say may come to pass, evil fought by another kind of evil. And may the fates and our ancestors preserve us should it be so."

Harry arrived at the Great Hall within minutes, and it was not long before his friends gathered with him. All of them were clad in their school robes, a convenient disguise for their armor and war gear.

They made their way to the Ravenclaw table and took seats surrounding Colin and Luna, which immediately had everyone whispering and pointing. Something was going on. That much, the gossiping students could agree on. What they could not decide upon was what. At the staff table, Umbridge stared at the group and her face creased in to a frown. She had not risen through the ranks of the Ministry without being able to spot trouble coming her way.

When the doors slammed open, the troop of eight Aurors marched in with their wands actually drawn. Sitting opposite both Luna and Colin, he saw, as much as felt them stiffen in their seats. He also felt the piercing gaze of one Albus Dumbledore directed as him as he rose to his feet, "Good Morning, Director Thicknesse, how can Hogwarts be of assistance to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?"

"Good Morning Headmaster Dumbledore," he was polite, calm and collected given the circumstances. He unrolled a length of parchment, "I have a warrant to take, for questioning both Luna Lovegood and Colin Creevy. They will be remanded in to Ministry custody and taken to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for processing and for an extensive interview, in relation to the charges against them," he paused for a moment, "The charges are fourteen counts of Sedition."

Harry hand tapped the table twice and stood, "Under the Protectorate Laws of 1592, they are the Protectorates of House Potter. You have issues with them? You should be talking to their legal guardian: Me. They are also minors under the law, and I do not see a lawyer to represent them or a child advocate, or a representative of the Department of Family Services. So you will not be taking them anywhere." He had been addressing the Great Hall in general, but now turned a Basilisk like stare on the new director of the DMLE. He crossed his arms over his chest, "Director Thicknesse, you and your Aurors risk violating the law if you attempt to take them, and I will not let you," he said, "Not without a fight." He added quietly.

The Aurors had spread out, and Harry recognized a number of the faces: Alleged former death eaters. However, he knew where their loyalty lay. Harry grinned at the Aurors, "I killed the Voldemort when I was an infant, killed a Basilisk when I was twelve, and if you've read the articles in the Quibbler, well you know about my Christmas." He let the unspoken question hang in the air. The Aurors hesitated as they contemplated it: "Do you really think the eight of you can take me on?"

Auror Yaxley was the first to take a step forward. Harry did not move. His friends did. Seven wands rose and were aimed at Yaxley in the moment that followed his rather rash decision. Harry however was quick to react, and he raised one hand, "Stand down!"

Too little too late as the rest of the Auror's now had their wands raised and aimed. Harry looked around the hall, "Rowena, not to be insulting or anything, but can you protect the rest of the students?"

She chuckled and confirmed she could. The exchange took a moment, and it was a moment where both sides had squared off, and neither side was about to back down. Harry stared at the Thicknesse, "You want to interview, you can conduct your interviews here, in private, in the presence of myself and my lawyers. This doesn't have to become a shooting match." He nodded to the gathered students, "Please, don't let it become a shooting match."

"We will take them…" began Thicknesse, even though he knew he was out of his league. He had five years experience in the Auror corps, but five years is nothing when it normally takes ten to get to assistant department head. His promotion had seen him overtake a number of people with seniority that had done nothing to make him popular within the upper echelons of the department. Having held his job for less than a day, there were already rumors of factions and alliances forming to oust him.

"You can't!" snapped Harry, "You don't have the right, the authority or a legal leg to stand on!" He turned his gaze towards the Headmaster, "You know they don't have the right, Headmaster Dumbledore. I'm asking you as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot."

That gave everyone, on both sides and watching a moment's pause. They had indeed forgotten that the castle was Dumbledore's "turf" they were fighting on, and that as Headmaster, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot he had the final say in the arbitration of any legal dispute - including this one. Dumbledore smiled, "In essence, Harry is correct: The Ministry does not have the legal right to take students from this Hogwarts as they please. Now if everyone could lower their wands, we can have this discussion in a calm, civilized manner."

"We could," Harry agreed, in just as civil a tone, "But they drew first, so they can lower first."

"I cannot allow a child to dictate terms," said Thicknesse, as politely as he could. He knew that if he backed down now, he would lose what little respect he had amongst the department's rank and file, leaving him caught between a shoot out and several different hard places with even harder cases, "Surely you have a guardian who can…"

Harry shook his head, "Don't need one. I am an emancipated minor, Lord of a Noble House, Legal guardian of two people who are protectorates of my house that you want to arrest. So I have every right to make the demands I am making, with legal backing." For the life of him, Harry could not understand how it was that the Ministry at large did not have a clue about his emancipation.

That was the cue, and right on the back of Harry's words, the doors swung open, this time to admit a Goblin. Despite her short stature, where she walked the crowd of students parted for her. While few knew who they were, everyone was certain that there was only one wizard in Hogwarts who could request and receive the support of the Goblins with such ease and rapidity.

The students parted as she walked right up to Pius Thicknesse and slapped a roll of parchment in to his hand, "I am Marinashka Thaz-Dom, and I am the chosen legal representative for the House of Potter and all those affiliated by blood and status." She nodded to the parchment in the Thicknesse's hand, "Under the revised 1921 statute of Wizarding Civil Law: Sedition is classed as a civil offense where upon which the accused…." She would speak, loud and long for several minutes, citing the laws, legal precedents, case judgments and even anecdotal evidence that boiled down to one point, "In summary, Luna Lovegood has conducted the research, using information from the public record to write her articles. She has conducted her interviews, and published accounts of them in the Quibbler. She has stated her opinion in her own publication and officially acknowledged and stated that it is her opinion alone. Finally, she has made no appeal to the public or attempted to incite them to take any kind of action, rendering the charges of sedition false and proof of malicious persecution by the Ministry of Magic!"

"This is all irrelevant!" shrieked Umbridge, "Aurors! Take Lovegood and Creevy in to custody!" The Aurors hesitated and then advanced one-step spreading out as they took another step forward. Thicknesse was surprised that they moved at all, and that moment Pius Thicknesse knew he was in over his head as he finally drew his own wand.

Harry glanced at the headmaster, who gave Harry a hunted, almost haunted look. Harry realized that his days as a Hogwarts student were quite possibly over, "Ci vis pacem, para bellum," he muttered. "Do what is right, not what is easy!" shouted Harry as he rounded on the gathered, watching students, "Eight people stand to do what is right! What are the rest of you going to do?"

He saw the Aurors move in to position and then a man he recognized, for all the wrong reasons, Yaxley fired a stunner. Director Thicknesse shouted for the Aurors to stand down, too little too late. The rest of the Auror's snapped and followed suit. A series of stunning spells lanced across the Great Hall, and all hell broke loose "Pondero veneficus!" Neville was quick of the mark with a Reflection Shield which was powerful enough to absorb many incoming spells and fling them back at the caster, but it was incredibly draining, especially when dealing with five spells at once. Two stunners had gone wide.

"Pattern Thimble!" barked Harry. The rest of the students had dropped to the floor and evaded the ricochet spells when a shield shimmered in to existence, protecting the students as the spells ricocheted in to walls and the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. "Thank you Rowena," thought Harry.

The Legion's core eight members reacted as one: Neville's shield dropped, and three Weaselys and Colin cast shields of their own creating solid defensive cover. "Top cover!" shouted Harry. Luna summoned a number of benches that haphazardly stacked themselves in front of their shields, giving them a solid defensive position. Harry and Fleur had retaliated with stunners of their own that crashed into one Auror. He dropped like a rock and would be out of it for at least an hour.

The student population and staff were likewise staring in slack-jawed disbelief at the sheer power on display. Their position secure, Luna turned her attention to Nevile, casting a restoration and invigoration charms on Neville. "That damned reflection shield," grunted Colin as another stunner impacted his shield, "Saved us from going down in the opening salvo." He leaned round the corner and sent a stunner at another Auror who countered with a shield, "We can take them, but we can't take on the rest of the DMLE!" he ducked as an unknown orangey-yellow hex dissipated against the wall.

Another Auror went down, this time to a spell chain of Fleur's invention that had glued the man's tongue to the roof of his mouth, slowed him down with an impediment jinx, hit him with a nasty stinging hex, and tripped him over with a leg locker curse, followed by a stunner. Neville had been quick on the follow up to summon the fallen Auror's wand.

Luna's voice once dreamy, relaxed and easygoing voice was gone. In its place was the enraged scream of a woman wronged, "Is this the Ministry at its finest? This is the Ministry doing what it thinks is right? Aurors firing on children? No Loyalty! No Honor! No Courage!"

Susan Bones, already on her feet was the first to raise her own wand, "Loyalty and Honor! Legion!" she screamed as she took aim, "Stupefy!"

Harry balked and was barely able to dodge yet another stunner sent at him as he watched Susan Bones send an Auror flying back first in to a stone pillar. Everyone seemed to pause to stare at her, "Legion!" she shouted again as she literally tied the unconscious Auror in knots and rope.

The shit hit the proverbial muggle mutli-bladed air moving apparatus powered by electricity as another voice, fifth year Jason Wakefield of Hufflepuff echoed the call, "Legion!"

It simply snowballed from there as more and more of the students took up the cry, and within moments, it had cascaded and almost a hundred voices were raised in shout, wands raised. It took Dumbledore only one moment to reassert control: His wand raised overhead, it emitted a single loud canon like blast that stopped everything and everyone in mid motion, "That is enough!" he thundered.

His voice carried like the thunder of a storm breaking over the castle. Three Aurors were stunned, but apart from some shock and a few sets of soiled trousers amongst the first and second years, no students were caught in the crossfire. Sizing up the battlefield for a moment, Harry breathed a sigh of relief, 'They can't arrest the whole school,' thought Harry. He found Thicknesse taking cover behind one of the many pillars that lined the Great Hall, "Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore," said Harry politely, "Director Thicknesse, you want your interviews, you can still have them, in this castle."

The Director locked eyes with Harry for a long moment, as both Umbridge and Dumbledore looked on. The Defense Against Dark Arts Professor wasted no time, descending from the staff table, and waddling to the Director, "As Senior Undersecretary to the Minister…"

"Ms. Umbridge," he said coldly, "Kindly, remove your presence from my sight. You may be the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, but I am still the head of my department!" Thicknesse lowered his wand, "Aurors, lower your wands." There was clear hesitation amongst the five still standing, "Lower your wands!" he barked and they finally complied. He met Harry's gaze, "Your friends fight well," he acknowledged, "How about those interviews?"

Harry lowered his, and his friends followed suit, moments later, the students had done the same, "I think, we can work something out," he said amicably, "But you need to put your pet dogs on a leash: The Ministry sent you. You can do the interviews."

Thicknesse cursed Umbridge silently, the idiot woman had jumped the gun and put him in this predicament, and now he was forced to concede to the demands of a teenager, to avoid not only himself, but his entire force from being hexed and perhaps worse, "Aurors return to the ministry." To his embarrassment, they did not walk, but almost ran, but he ignored that. He would deal with it later, "Is there a room we can use?"

"I'm sure the headmaster can arrange something for us," said Harry, "But you might have to get in line," he added almost ominously, "Professor Umbridge wanted to interview them first."

"What!" yelped Thicknesse, even as he directed an impressive glare at Umbridge, who flushed a pale shade of pink.