Invisible

Chapter 35

Reaction and Consequences

"Severus, please sit down," said Albus, his voice a little squeakily as Severus glared fiercely at him half way through his short sentence.

Albus gulped loudly again, having never seen Severus like this before, not in all the years he had known him. He knew how pissed off he was, since for once, he was showing it, and that was a big thing for Severus. He never normally showed emotion, which made him appear unfeeling and to some, intimidating. Also, he wasn't pacing, which meant he was beyond furious. Severus paced when he was angry or confused—he'd done it quite a lot during his spying days. The Headmaster was actually very nervous, because this anger was, in fact, directed at him, as those onyx eyes were flashing furiously at him. Albus almost wanted to sink into his seat, or the floor, even, as the vein at the side of Severus' head throbbed dangerously. He was genuinely worried about (and scared of) the young man, who was like a son to him.

"How dare you let that…that female into Hogwarts," growled Severus, standing face-to-face with Dumbledore, his hands gripping his side of Dumbledore's desk tightly—so hard his fingers were turning pale in some places and bright red in others. Severus was having trouble speaking through his fury. It was one of the things he hated about himself, his sometimes uncontrollable anger; it reminded him of his father. How he refrained from calling Umbridge something extremely unsavory, he had no idea. There just wasn't a name bad enough to describe her.

"I'll assume you are speaking about Professor Umbridge?" asked Dumbledore, calming his racing heart. Had she given Harry a fail in Defense? Or perhaps detention for nothing? It didn't seem right. Severus wouldn't be so angry about such an insignificant little thing. Then again, he was possessive of people or things he considered his own, he'd been like that even as a young boy. He knew Severus well, or as well as anyone could. Severus wasn't a man who revealed a lot about himself, at least never intentionally.

"She's not a professor," snarled Severus angrily. In no world was she anyone's definition of a professor. She might be hurting his Slytherins, and he hadn't left to see them hurt! Why they hadn't gone to Slughorn, he didn't know. They weren't in the sixties where it was okay to belt students, and even then, a Blood Quill wouldn't have been acceptable! How Dumbledore could allow this was inconceivable to him. He couldn't believe it—why had Dumbledore allowed it to continue? The old fool knew everything that happened at Hogwarts.

"Severus, why are you here?" asked Dumbledore, his own irritation rising. It had been one Hell of a year. He had planned on using Nick to gain Order members, which had spectacularly failed. He'd had to put up with the negative newspaper reports, a family that was falling apart, and training Nick, which was becoming increasingly more difficult instead of getting easier. Nick was downtrodden, ill, and his magic was acting strange—sometimes no magic came out of Nick's wand. He'd been sitting at his desk, wondering what to do about that, when Severus had come on through the Floo and all thoughts of Nick were swept from his mind.

"Did you know?" asked Severus, his masks now up. He was angry, but his fury was beginning to subside. If Dumbledore did know, that was the end of it. He would walk out of that office and have nothing further to do with the old fool. Before he would leave the school, he'd go and visit his Slytherins and get in touch with their parents. Consequences be damned, the old fool could be removed from his position for all he cared. Nobody hurt his Slytherins, or allowed it, not even 'for the greater good'. His Slytherins meant more to him than Dumbledore, at the end of the day, even though he didn't want to have to choose.

"Did I know what?" asked Dumbledore in confusion. He was being judged by Severus, and he didn't like it. He knew he'd made some bad mistakes, and he had spent his entire life atoning for them. He did not like a man who'd made his own mistakes judging him like that, whether he thought of him as a son or not.

"Umbridge is using a Blood quill on MY students," snarled Severus. Well, he didn't know that for sure, but he'd put his money on it. Severus was really relieved at seeing all the color drain from Dumbledore's face. It meant he didn't know—liars normally couldn't pale on the spot, not even the great Albus Dumbledore. He wasn't a fantastic actor with anything other than seeming grandfatherly—he couldn't fake other emotions so easily. Severus felt himself warming back up to him, just a little.

"What?" spluttered Albus, unable to believe what Severus had just said. Had his grandfatherly image deteriorated so far that the students didn't trust him enough to go to him, or even their Heads of House, with their problems?

"Oh, and that's not all—your precious 'Boy-Who-Lived' was being tortured by her as well," sneered Severus, taking great satisfaction in Dumbledore looking sick. Understanding and devastation suddenly flashed over Dumbledore's features. Feeling particularly vicious and happy about it, he watched Dumbledore in feral satisfaction.

"Nick?" croaked Dumbledore. Well, it seemed he wasn't such a great mentor if Nick hadn't come to him. He had obviously not gone to his parents, either. Nothing was going as planned. Blood loss—that could easily have helped cause Nick's magic to go haywire, especially if she had been doing it since the beginning of the year. Nick was supposed to trust him above all else, everyone else.

With his thoughts wrapped up with Nick, he failed to note how sarcastically Severus had called Nick the 'Boy-Who-Lived,' with so much scorn in the words.

"Oh, yes, Potter. Now, you had better deal with this, Albus, before I do," swore Severus, and that was a promise. If he found out any of his Slytherins had been touched, Umbridge had better well be away from the school or she'd figure out why his Slytherins had liked him.

"Do not do anything rash, Severus," said Albus, gathering his scattered wits. He had a teacher to deal with, and he'd be damned if he let her remain. Why hadn't his students come to him? Had he been that unapproachable this year? He didn't like to think so. "I shall alert Filius, Pomona, and Minerva." His twinkle was noticeably absent. He didn't bother offering to speak to Slughorn, he was under no delusions—Severus was going down to the Slytherin Common Room. He obviously wanted to know they were okay. "Would you see to the Slytherins?"

"I'll speak with them," agreed Severus coolly, looking aloofly at Dumbledore. Knowingly or not, he'd let it happen in his own school. He was obviously losing his touch, and if he continued showing such lapses, he shouldn't be Headmaster.

"Go on, then, Severus," said Albus tiredly, "Leave Umbridge to the Ministry." The warning in his voice was clear. It wasn't worth his small revenge on the woman; even he wouldn't be able to keep Severus from Azkaban if he did anything. It's not as if he was still spying for the good of the light.

Severus didn't say a word as he left the Headmaster's office and practically glided down to the Slytherin Common Room. It was rather odd to say the least, to see the halls empty, nary a soul in sight. It seemed as though Umbridge had more of an effect at Hogwarts than anyone realized. Normally, no student wanted to remain cooped up in the Common Room unless they had to. It seemed as though the Common Rooms had become a safe haven from the Witch, a fact which made Severus seethe even more.

"Open," demanded Severus of the portrait outside the Slytherin Common Room, who thankfully liked him enough to open without needing the password. Severus entered the room, and at once it became hushed—then everyone simultaneously began talking, asking questions. The most often-asked one was whether or not he was coming back. It warmed Severus' heart to hear it, as he'd bet not many missed him. Especially the Gryffindors.

"Students, I have a very important question to ask, all I demand in return is honesty. You do all still follow the rules I put up, don't you?" he asked sternly.

"Yes, Sir," chorused the students together, staring at their ex-Head of House solemnly. Something had obviously happened to cause him to come here, and it was obviously important, judging by his voice.

"Step forward if you've had detention with Dolores Umbridge," said Severus. His voice had warned of no disobedience. He stared at each of them in turn, looking for signs of hesitance or guilt. "Now!" he barked in impatience.

Daphne Greengrass was the first to step forward, her face growing uncomfortably hot at the sudden attention she was receiving. "Blaise Zabini has been too, he's up in the dorm," she admitted quietly. Soon a few more people stepped forward, revealing how it was mostly the young women who had been picked on. Severus was even more furious than when he'd first Flooed over to Dumbledore's office.

"Why did none of you tell Slughorn?" asked Severus, his fury evident.

Everyone in the room turned around to stare at Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, Warrington, and Montague. Severus' eyes narrowed. They had something to do with it? This was against every rule he had created for his Slytherins if what he suspected was true. He noticed they looked guilty, extremely uncomfortable, and decidedly sick.

"Speak up or one hundred points will be removed now," snapped Severus, and every student knew he would. Severus always kept his word, it was the one thing his Slytherins would never forget about him.

"What they mean is they've been chosen by Umbridge to be part of her Inquisitorial Squad. They've been helping Umbridge terrorize the school, and us," said Blaise as he came down from the boys' dorm.

Severus looked ready to explode, and the culprits tried to fade even more into the background.

"Has she used the Blood Quill on you?" he asked the students who'd had detention with her.

They nodded as one, wincing in remembrance.

"Then wait outside the Common Room, please," said Severus. Once the injured students had left the Common Room, Severus stood staring at the so-called 'Inquisitorial Squad,' his feelings very clear. "Don't you have something to do?" he asked the innocent students, who all practically ran for their dorms, or so it seemed. Severus wouldn't be surprised if they stayed nearby to hear him rip into the students still standing there looking extremely nervous and sick.

"Tell me the three main rules of Slytherin," said Severus, stalking forward, looking very intimidating.

"Look af-after your own," whispered Pansy, the first to cave, her eyes wide with terror.

"And?" demanded Severus, his voice louder.

"Always help a Slytherin in need first," said Malfoy, his face paler than normal.

"Slytherin is our family, and we should always stick by them," said Montague.

All three rules basically said the same thing.

"Have you been following them?" hissed Severus.

"No, Sir," said the students.

"You should thank your lucky stars I am not your Head of House any longer. However, I shall ensure Professor Slughorn deals with you appropriately," snapped Severus. Twirling around, he left the students almost falling to the floor in relief that he was finally gone.

"Come," said Severus to the students waiting outside the Slytherin Common Room. He quickly ushered them up the stairs and into Dumbledore's office. Inside, there were many students from all Houses standing around Dumbledore's desk, causing the office to magically expand to fit everyone without being cramped. Dumbledore looked completely defeated by the number of students standing around him. He noticed one student absent—Nick Potter.

"What's happening?" asked Severus, standing beside Minerva, Filius, and Pomona without awkwardness.

"Madam Bones is coming over once she's looked through the files. Umbridge is claiming she had the appropriate permission," said Minerva crisply. Her claws were out—she wanted the woman's blood. She was very much like Severus when it came to the children in her House.

"Fudge?" asked Severus incredulously.

"Apparently," agreed Flitwick.

"I doubt he'd risk his job," snorted Severus in bitter amusement.

"You might have a point," said Minerva thoughtfully. Fudge was an idiot, but he wouldn't openly risk his job by allowing that. Not something that could come back and bite him in the arse. There was no way Cornelius was stupid enough to sign anything which declared intent to use a Blood Quill on students, no, it just wasn't possible.

"Professors, do we really need to be here?" asked Daphne Greengrass, seemingly speaking for all them, even the other three Houses.

"I am afraid, students, that you are indeed needed here," said Dumbledore, looking at them sadly. "Dolores Umbridge must be punished for what she has done." He noticed all the students in the room had no ties to the Ministry, or with parents who'd been questioned with ties to Death Eaters during the first war.

"Yes, Sir," chorused the students, looking even more nervous and worried.

They then jumped when the Floo flared up, spitting out a group of people—Madam Bones and five Aurors.

"She was actually telling the truth," said Amelia Bones. Her monocle was noticeably missing. She had paperwork in her hands, and she looked grim and angry, but also a tiny bit relived her niece wasn't among the group. She passed the paperwork to Dumbledore, who took it grimly and looked over it.

"Is there somewhere the students can get in touch with their parents? They need someone here with them while we question them," said Shacklebolt, standing forward and taking control. He was the oldest Auror here so it was his duty.

"You can use this Floo," said Dumbledore, his voice full of tiredness as he spoke with Shacklebolt, speaking to him as though he didn't know him. The secrecy was needed, because Voldemort would personally target anyone who was in the Order, especially someone with ties to the Ministry.

"Then speak to the children in my office and the surrounding classrooms, if you should wish it," offered Minerva.

"Thank you," said Shacklebolt, nodding in her direction. The children all contacted their parents, and thankfully they were all available which made the process quite simple. Or so they thought. The poor Aurors were forced to deal with hysterical and angry parents. Although, Shacklebolt couldn't help but be glad they had Umbridge in custody, with the look Lady Zabini had in her eyes.

"SIR! We found Potter!" said Filch, running into the Headmaster's office, out of breath and with his cat in tow as usual.

"Where?" asked Dumbledore, abruptly standing up. Minerva was already standing while looking extremely concerned. Nick had been missing for three hours, and even the order for all students to return to their Common Rooms had failed to bring Nick to Gryffindor.

"Took him to the Hospital Wing, Headmaster. He was unconscious when I found him, he was," said Filch. "Definitely not in a good way, neither."

"Was he hurt?" asked Minerva, her eyes wide.

"No sign, Minerva," said Filch, shaking his head no.

"Well, that's something," sighed Minerva in relief. "If you'll excuse me, I need to check on my Gryffindor."

"Remember you have other students as well," said Severus scornfully. Honestly, she was dropping all her other Gryffindors to see to one student? Yes, he was in the Hospital Wing, but the others needed their Head of House.

"I shall take care of them, Minerva," offered Slughorn, who had finally been called to join them.

"No, Severus is correct. I shall go and see Poppy, then return," said Minerva. Severus was right, it wasn't fair to her other students. They might not be in the Hospital Wing, but they didn't deserve to be abandoned, either.

"Very well," said Slughorn. He was rather wary of Severus, who had just berated him like a five-year-old for not keeping the Slytherins in order, and upholding the House rules. Severus was no longer the student he'd had taught, he was a fully grown and down-right scary Wizard. Slughorn hoped never to experience it again. Magic had leeched off him, his anger and intensity shown by that simple fact.

"I shall accompany you, Minerva," said Dumbledore. "Filch, find Professor Potter and send her to the Hospital Wing as well."

"Yes, Headmaster," said Filch in agreement before running out of the office to do the Headmaster's bidding. Albus was the one person Filch never spoke nasty about, as he'd cared enough to give him a position at Hogwarts despite the fact that he didn't have magic, and despite the protests his so-called 'family' gave.

Five hours later, the Aurors were finally done, the parents were back home, and the students were back in their Common Rooms. The conversations were finally over, and everyone was extremely tired. Outside the school, darkness had long since descended and rain beat on the old building as if washing away Umbridge's stench.

"How long do you think she will get?" asked Minerva, sipping a Scottish whiskey Muggle variety she liked so much. She nibbled on Scottish shortbread as well—it was her weakness, she absolutely adored them.

"Illegal object, underage children, I'd say she'll receive ten years, minimum," said Severus. Wizarding children were cherished since there were so few of them. On the British Isles at least, anyway. You could get ten years for using magic in front of Muggles, so she could end up getting a longer sentence. Especially with these dark days descending upon them.

"I hope she gets longer," said Minerva maliciously.

"She could," agreed Severus, "But is it safe?" he mused mostly to himself rather than the room.

"Security has been increased, as you well know. I don't think Voldemort could break out his followers," said Dumbledore.

"The Dementors should have been removed," argued Severus.

"They should have, but there's only so much we can do. We have increased the Aurors stationed in Azkaban should the worst happen," said Dumbledore.

"Albus! Where's my son?" asked James, tumbling through the Floo while looking old and ashen. It seemed as though word of what had happened had just reached him.

"He's in the Hospital Wing. Lily is with him," soothed Dumbledore.

James gulped before nodding warily, then he bolted from the Headmaster's office and all the way to the Hospital Wing. Out of breath, aching, and sweaty, he finally opened the door and entered the room. The situation finally sunk in as he saw his son lying on the bed, as pale as the sheets that covered him. The guilt crippled him, causing him to fall to his knees. He was a failure as a father. Harry had disowned himself and left them completely penniless, Nick was lying in a hospital bed for reasons currently unknown, and Roxy...he had no idea what was happening with her. Was she safe? He hoped so, as he couldn't take any more of this.

He realized now that the situation with Harry was probably his own fault, that he'd brought it on himself. He remembered situation after situation as they flashed before his eyes. His son not even being educated, completely forgetting him, in his push to make sure Nick got the best one. Harry asking for a cat as a child, then him getting Nick one the second he asked for it, but never getting one for Harry—then Harry asking for a familiar to go to Hogwarts with, and him saying to use Nick's. He'd failed Harry, and he finally understood it. His failures over his son this year also came back to haunt him. He'd only tried to better his son, so when the time came he had a chance against Voldemort. In his bid to do so, he had ignored his son, bullied him, and now…he was so pale and sickly on that Hospital bed…and he prayed it had nothing to do with him.

"How is he, Poppy?" rasped James, finally getting off the stone floor, his face full of shame and defeat.

"He's suffering from dehydration. His throat is damaged through excessively being sick. He's also suffering from blood loss, but the most concerning thing of all is that his magical reserves are non-existent. Do not use magic near or on him, for any reason, or I'm afraid we'll lose him," said Poppy professionally.

"W-what does that mean?" croaked James, his eyes wide with fear for his son.

Lily just remained quiet, her eyes red rimmed, puffy, and glossy as if she'd been crying for hours.

"It means these times are crucial," said Poppy honestly.

"Or what?" asked James, licking his dry lips nervously.

"He could die, or become a Squib if his magical core doesn't replenish itself," said Poppy quietly. She hated giving parents bad news, but this was the worst news she could give a parent.

"Squib?" choked James, his green eyes bulging out of their sockets.

"He's used his magic far beyond its capacity; his body and core just cannot handle it anymore. Tell me, has he been using magic during the summer holidays?" asked Poppy. She hadn't asked Lily because, quite frankly, the woman had been hysterical. Roxy had been by, too, but she'd had to send the girl away before she witnessed her mother's complete meltdown.

"Yes," said James, confused.

"And what about during the year, besides in classes?" asked Poppy, keeping her gaze steady.

"Well—when he's not sleeping, eating, or doing homework, he's had to train for..." James began, then drifted off as the Medi-Witch's gaze became hard and cold.

"That's why his core depleted. Children need the time off to replenish their magical cores, and classes are arranged so they don't normally push themselves so hard in any one day for it to do them harm if they play around a little outside of class. Their cores need time to grow and expand so they have no trouble using magic as adults," explained Poppy, her face emotionless. "It's why magical educations take seven years. If appropriate time off isn't given, it can lead to—well, this, and possibly other problems by themselves or in combination with what you can see in front of you—mental problems, exhaustion, failing magical cores, Squib-state, and even death."

"Why didn't Albus tell us?" asked James, looking defeated.

"Because training Nick was more important," snapped Lily bitterly.

"What happens to Nick now?" asked James, ignoring Lily for the moment. He had to find out more information about his son. His Auror training was finally coming in handy, because he was calming down.

"He's in a coma. All we can do is hope his magical core reconnects and starts replenishing itself. I've given him Blood-Replenishing Potions, so that's back to normal. We have him on a drip so he can hydrate slowly and not shock his system—such a shock in his current state could be fatal. The Blood Quill wound has been photographed and healed. I'm afraid there is nothing more I can do for him, other than pray," said Poppy.

James swallowed thickly, then nodded his thanks to Poppy and sat down next to his wife, bringing her into a hug, comforting himself as much as her, as they kept vigil over their son. He hoped and prayed Nick came out of it; if he did, he swore he'd apologize to Harry, tell him he finally understood that they deserved the punishment heaped upon them. He finally understood why Dumbledore told them never to speak of Harry badly in his presence. Dumbledore had known they deserved it, too. How stupid had he been not to have realized this?

Poppy left the infirmary to give the family some privacy. She went to her quarters, which were right next to the Hospital Wing. She had not been able to put a monitoring spell on Nick, so she was going to have to regularly check up on him. She set her alarm with her wand, for exactly two hours' time.

"Severus, what happened?" asked Eileen, who was sitting next to the fireplace in her nightwear. He was genuinely surprised to see her, as it was nearly midnight. What on earth was she doing up? She needed sleep, she wasn't as young as she used to be, potion or no potion.

"Where's Harry?" asked Severus tiredly. No doubt the boy felt abandoned. He'd berated Minerva for the same thing he'd done to his own Apprentice. Hopefully Harry would understand his Slytherins didn't have anyone to speak up for them other than him.

"Sleeping. He explained to me what happened. How are your Slytherins?" asked Eileen.

"They are as well as can be expected," said Severus quietly. His throat was sore from all the shouting he'd done that day. He had honestly forgotten how aggravated his throat could get. "How is Harry?"

"He went to bed extremely confused," said Eileen, making Severus feel guilty. "He hadn't realized he'd cut the Potters off completely. He isn't sure what to do with this information. I also reassured him nothing Nick said was true. I also told him your Slytherins were hurt, which was the only reason you were still away—that you would do the exact same thing for him. He knows so, as he told me you had helped him in my flat, after all," she finished.

A weight lifted from Severus' shoulders at hearing her words.

"What of Nick Potter?" asked Eileen.

"It's bad. Apparently he's suffering from malnutrition, dehydration, and magical exhaustion so bad he has no reserves left. He's in a coma, and he had better stay in it if his core doesn't reconnect," said Severus.

"Severus!" admonished Eileen. "If he ends up a Squib, you know as well as I what would happen," she finished with more bite.

Severus deflated. "I know. All we can do is hope the spoiled brat pulls through."

"Yes, for all concerned, especially Harry," said Eileen. "Otherwise, they will have another Nick on their hands. Not spoiled-wise, but Dumbledore never learns from his mistakes. No doubt within a year, Harry would end up in the same condition."

"I know," said Severus.

"Do you want a bit of cake? Harry simply adored his," said Eileen.

"No. I'm exhausted—I just want to sleep, since I have an early start tomorrow," said Severus, unable to contain his yawn.

"I'll preserve it for another day, then," agreed Eileen.

"Go to sleep, Mum," said Severus, his voice laced with fondness, a fondness he'd not had for her when he was a teenager. He had just been unable to understand why she'd never used her magic on his father, why she hadn't taken him and herself away from the abuse, but that was over with now, and he promised himself not to think on it.

"Very well, Dear. Good night," she said, standing up, kissing her son on the cheek, and quietly slipping out of the room.

Big Thank you to Snow Leopard Pasha for all her hard work in editing this work :) thank you! Edited 13/05/18