Chapter 14
The dementors were still there when Harry, Susan, and Neville stepped off the Hogwarts Express, drifting above the Forbidden Forest and looming by the gates, only now they were here because of Pettigrew instead of Sirius. Harry knew that Pettigrew wouldn't come here. He was a coward; he would flee the country or he would hide. Why would he come back to Hogwarts after spending over two years here, in which time he had done nothing?
He supposed it was just another case of Fudge having to be seen as doing something, especially given the fact that, according to Susan, Fudge was in a bit of hot water as it was. After he and Sirius had left the Wizengamot meeting it had effectively descended into chaos while people threw around blame and accusations until someone from the Goblin liaison office had been sent to confirm Sirius's claim that he was never disowned. He had quickly returned and confirmed that Sirius Black was the Head of the Black family, at which point Fudge and Malfoy had been subject to all sorts of accusations since without an officially recognised heir the Black seat should have been dormant. It certainly shouldn't have been under Malfoy's control simply because he said his son was the heir. Everyone knew that Lucius Malfoy was a personal friend of the Minister, and despite the fact everything was framed as campaign donations everyone knew that Fudge had taken a bribe. They couldn't prove it, of course, but they knew. Unfortunately, barring any sort of behaviour so awfully and obviously corrupt that impeachment was an option, they were stuck with him until the next election.
However, if Fudge was in hot water then Crouch had been thrown into an active volcano. Depriving anyone the right to a fair trial was criminal, never mind doing it to one of the most powerful men in the country. And once they started poking around they found that it wasn't the only time he'd done it either; Sirius was simply the first one to be discovered. Unfortunately, many of the other witches and wizards that he'd thrown into Azkaban for being suspected Death Eaters without due process had died in their cells. Those that had survived hadn't retained their sanity near as well as Sirius had; they were barely alive and would require months of physical therapy and months more mental therapy to even start fixing what Azkaban had broken.
This was one scandal too many for most members of the Wizengamot to stomach. Crouch had been removed from the Ministry in disgrace, and it was only made worse by the fact that he had been the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. The World Cup was far too big and far too public an undertaking to be moved so late, but there had been another secret competition, meeting or summit of some sort that had been set to be held in Britain that now wouldn't be. Neither Susan nor Neville knew what it was, but those in the know had been furious that Britain would be deprived of the 'privilege' of hosting the event.
Thankfully, Neville and Susan seemed to have gotten over what happened with Pettigrew over the holidays. Mostly, anyway. They didn't share grim looks when he disappeared nor question him much on what he was doing. In fact, they seemed to determinedly ignore his comings and goings. Harry was rather thankful for that; having your friends questioning your morality wasn't much fun.
He actually asked Neville about it a few days into the new term. Neville had looked quite uncomfortable at the reminder, but he had then told him that he'd asked his gran how many awful spells his grandfather had known. Cyrus Longbottom had opposed cruel legislation as Lord Longbottom and he had been a member of the ICW forces that had fought against Grindelwald, willing to risk his life to put a stop to a war that hadn't even touched Britain yet. As far as Neville was concerned there were very few wizards that he should look up to more than his grandfather. So, when his Gran had replied that he had known far, far more vicious spells than the average Death Eater did, some of which would make even them retch, he felt like everything he had thought he'd known had been turned on its head.
"You can't fight against a dark wizard if you don't know what spells they're casting," she had told him.
Harry didn't point out that he was learning them so that he could use them if the time came instead of simply for identification, even if he'd already told them as such on the train home for Christmas. Best not to remind them of it if he could help it. They both seemed to harbour some reservations, Susan in particular, but for the most part the business with Pettigrew simply wasn't mentioned.
Despite all that, though, things weren't quite the same. They were still very close, yes, but there was something different, and Harry couldn't quite describe what. They still ate together, played games together, still did their homework together in the library and chatted about whatever caught their fancy. They still liked him, they were still friends, but there was this extra millimetre of distance that would sometimes feel like a chasm for a split second. A new edge that occasionally glinted in their eyes. Their opinion of him had shifted slightly, as would be expected, but instead of shifting with it all three still went on as if nothing had changed.
He honestly wasn't sure if he would have rathered they act different or not.
It was strange that the year seemed to have split straight down the middle, at least as far as he was concerned. Before the holidays everything had been about Sirius Black; catching him, avoiding him, learning spells to fight him, watching the map for him, wondering why he was at Hogwarts or how he had escaped Azkaban. And now, he didn't need to do any of that. All the tension that he hadn't even realised had built up over the previous months had disappeared, and he was now quite happy to sit in the library with his friends and chatter about whatever came to mind while they did their homework, be it the Weasley twin's latest prank or Ravenclaw's crushing defeat to Slytherin in the quidditch cup. Last term he would have been itching to be back in the Come and Go room cursing dummies with scraggly black hair and haunted grey eyes.
He now he spent a good majority of his free time pouring over the books he'd gotten from his vault, but that didn't mean he spent much less time in the Come and Go room than he had before. For the first week or so he did it in the library while Neville and Susan did homework of their own, or at least he tried to. They had a very annoying habit of asking him what he was doing, and it didn't matter that they were genuinely curious when telling them would require explaining several years worth of runes or arithmancy study. He had worked on his project exclusively in the Come and Go room ever since.
The abilities of the room would be especially useful when he managed to convert it into a rune scheme that could be etched into a ward stone. He'd have to experiment with all manner of different materials, different sizes, different spatial arrangements. He'd have to bury the ward stone at different depths and different distances apart, test if the ward had to be split over multiple stones, test it to make sure different wards could be cast in conjunction with it. Arithmancy could only narrow the possibilities down so much before experimentation was required.
That was a long way off though. Years away in all likelihood. He had just started trying to break down the spell's arithmancy, but doing so to such an intricate spell was like trying to dig a hole with a spoon. It was technically possible, but it was also infuriating and would take an extremely long time. And that wasn't even considering trying to understand soul magic of all things. It had a reputation for being one of the most difficult magical arts, as well as one of the darkest. Not something a third year should really be dabbling in, but when had that ever stopped him?
~Scene Change~
Harry, Neville and Susan were crowded round a table on one side of the Hufflepuff common room, the bright, airy atmosphere contrasting sharply against the frown on Neville's face as he surveyed his pieces and did his very best to ignore their commands to get on with it. Susan too was leant forward in concentration as she stared down at the board, considering moves and countermoves. Harry, on the other hand, was grinning.
Much of the common room had stopped what they were doing as soon as they'd started setting the chessboard up in favour of watching them, knowing that the three of them playing chess invariably descended into squabbling. There was always one not playing, and that one always took that time to try and distract the other two. Susan would chatter about anything that caught her fancy, offering 'hints' every now and then. Some of what she suggested were actually good ideas, but the rest were terrible and neither Harry nor Neville were any good at deciding which was which. Neville's strategy was to ask about something they were passionate about; he would ask Susan about the auror corps or about defence, and he would ask Harry about his project or any of the things he studied just because he found them interesting.
Harry's strategy was comparatively simple but nonetheless effective. He simply spouted a constant stream of nonsense.
"Alright Neville, what you want to do is move that knight over here."
"Why the hell would I do that when I can move this bishop and take Sue's rook? Are you on my side or hers?"
"I'm not on anyone's side! I'm just trying to be helpful, you know, like friends are supposed to be? Not, for example, betraying each other by convincing my pieces to mutiny!"
Neville smirked without taking his eyes off his pieces.
"You really need to get over that Harry," Susan said. "I was going to beat you anyway."
"How do you know that it wasn't all part of my strategy?"
"Because you don't have a strategy."
"Yes I do, and even if I didn't I'd still be better than Longbottom here."
Neville ignored the thumb that jabbed in his direction while his fingers hovered over the knight Harry had pointed at, but then his hand darted away and grabbed hold of his protesting bishop.
"Congratulations Neville, you've just shat the bed."
"Language," Susan muttered as she moved her own piece, knowing full well she was going to be ignored.
"You know," Harry continued, "for someone who has pulled a magic sword from a hat and is therefore a knight, you sure do hate actually using them."
Again, Neville ignored him as he moved his queen across the board.
"Check," Neville said, smiling smugly at Harry.
Susan frowned as she moved her king out of harms way and ignored Harry's attempts to distract her. He frowned before he turned his attention to the pieces themselves and proceeded to commiserate about 'useless commanders who don't respect suggestions.'
"Checkmate," Susan grinned a few minutes later, having pinned Neville's king between her rook and queen.
"You see, Neville," Harry said as Neville grudgingly handed over the wagered chocolate frogs, "this wouldn't have happened if you'd just moved your knight."
"Piss off Harry. Don't you have a meeting to get to?"
Harry glanced at the clock.
"Fuck."
Again, Susan half-heartedly scolded him for his language as he hurriedly yanked his bag from the floor and he dashed from the room. Best not to keep Professor Babbling waiting longer than he already had.
She was thrilled when he told her what he wanted to do, though she did also stress the importance of having a back-up idea. He wasn't the first to try and make the Fidelius Charm more useable and all those before him had failed, some quite explosively. Still, she answered his questions enthusiastically and told him that he was welcome to drop by her office any time if he had any further questions, provided she wasn't teaching a class and that the hour was decent.
"And you have to promise that you won't do anything potentially dangerous without me supervising," she said sternly.
"I promise."
From the look on her face Professor Babbling knew that he would more than likely do it anyway, just as Harry knew that she knew and had asked him not to so she could at least say she had tried. Runes was just about the most dangerous area a wizard could research that didn't cross into what some would call dark magic – things like blood and soul magic, and he was looking into soul magic as well. He was rather surprised she hadn't warned him about that, but maybe she hadn't thought he would be studying it. If that was the case then maybe that was where all the previous attempts had gone wrong.
His mind buzzed as he made his way back to the common room, trying to work out how the professor's answers to his questions would affect his project going forwards. She had simplified some aspects but others had suddenly become much more complex, and that was without even considering the soul magic involved. He supposed he better dedicate some more time to studying that now – he wasn't sure how much he could progress before he understood how the secret was actually hidden. He sighed at the thought; the soul was just so complicated to understand. Each book had a slightly different definition of what it was.
Neville and Susan were just where he'd left them when he got back to the common room, his thoughts still whirring.
"Harry," Susan said as he waved him over, "you went to muggle school, right? What is that girl doing?"
Harry turned and followed her gaze to a second year girl with a glossy textbook in front of her as she used a biro to scribble notes into a notebook. Several older students were peering over her shoulder and looking at each other in confusion.
"Looks like chemistry," Harry murmured.
"Chemistry?" Neville asked.
"You don't know what chemistry is?" he asked, shocked.
Both Neville and Susan shrugged while he gaped at them. How could they not know what chemistry was?
"Atoms? The tiny little things that make up literally everything in existence? Acids and bases? Elements?"
They both continued to look at him with identical looks of incomprehension.
"Seriously? Nothing? What do people take from the air when they breathe?"
"From the air?" Neville asked. "What are you on about?"
Harry resisted the urge to either scream or say something scathing. Instead, he pushed himself from his chair and made his way towards the girl, ignoring the twin frowns that he knew were being directed at his back. How could someone not know what oxygen was?
Despite the failings of wizarding common knowledge, though, he still wasn't sure why someone was doing chemistry at Hogwarts. Had it been brought into one of the classes this year? If so he was interested; he'd always wondered how potions would react if you started using chemicals as well as potions ingredients.
"Hi," he said, ignoring the girl's squeak, "can I ask why you're doing chemistry? I didn't think it was taught here."
The girl's blush became a look of righteous indignation.
"Because I'm going to need to know it to get a job after Hogwarts just because my parents are muggle!" she said, glaring at him.
"How does being muggleborn mean you need to know chemistry?"
"Well I'm not going to get a job here am I?" the girl cried, only to immediately duck her head with a blush as every member of the common room turned to look at her.
"Alright, alright, calm down a second," Harry said as he dragged a chair over and sat down. "What's your name?"
"Savanah."
"Alright then Savanah, why don't you think you'll get a job here? And where is 'here' exactly? At Hogwarts?"
Savanah shook her head. "Not Hogwarts, the magical world."
Before Harry could open his mouth to ask why the hell she would think that she carried on, her anger seeming to burn through whatever embarrassment she had felt.
"We have to pick our third year options at the end of this year and I wanted to make sure that whatever I picked was actually useful, so I did some research to make sure I'm prepared. The library has loads of stuff on employment requirements and things like that – its probably meant for older students but Madam Pince didn't stop me looking at it."
Savanah shrugged. The fact that she had started researching her third year options months before she actually chose them reminded Harry of Hermione Granger only without all the negative traits, which was to say that she didn't remind him of Hermione Granger very much at all.
"And what did you find?"
"I didn't find much, but my dad did. I sent him copies of everything; he's a lawyer so he would find all the stuff I missed. He's been interested in what witches and wizards do after Hogwarts ever since I started anyway."
"What did your dad find then?"
Savanah pulled a letter from her pocket and slid in across the table. It was written on paper with a watermark for 'Golde and Stevens' at the top and had clearly been read and refolded dozens of times.
Dear Savanah,
What you have sent me is troubling. There were several rather unsavoury laws that depend on 'blood status', but it is not these that give me particular cause for concern. It is the histories of certain positions among several other factors that I feel we should be more troubled by. I applaud your thoroughness in this regard.
Harry almost laughed at the formality of the letter. This was from her father? Frankly he was surprised that she had called him dad. Malfoy was his reference for aloof parents, and not once had he heard him call Lucius Malfoy anything but father.
Firstly, there has not been a 'muggleborn' department head in over sixty years. Sixty seven, to be exact. I am unsure as to how prestigious the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures is, but there has never been a muggleborn appointment to the post of Minister or to the head of the several other departments. That in itself indicates a wider bias that will undoubtedly not stop at those positions; in my experience things such as this trickle down to infect all other areas.
For example, there was a muggleborn Head Auror a little over fifty years ago. This seems to be the level below the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement themselves, and yet when the head of the department retired a pureblood senior auror was instead promoted to take their place. This glass ceiling likely still exists and there are likely similar ceilings in other departments.
Equally troubling is the statistics. Around 50% of most departments seem to be comprised of purebloods – which is concerning as they only make up 21% of the population according to the same statistics – and the other 50% is split roughly equally between halfbloods and muggleborns. These are only bulk statistics, so considering the information previously mentioned I think it likely that many of those of muggleborn heritage are lower on the totem pole and will remain in one job for an extended period of time without advancement. Of course, considering these statistics were released willingly by the Ministry their authenticity is not guaranteed. It could be even worse.
Taxation also seems to be skewed to favour the wealthy, which in the vast majority of cases is very old pureblood families. There are even some stated benefits for families who can trace their magical lineage back a certain number of generations. I shouldn't have been surprised, of course, considering that these laws and regulations were all drawn up by the 'Wizengamot', the magical government that is comprised significantly by pureblood aristocracy. I know you are rather fond of magic, but from a moral, ethical, or legal standpoint it is utterly backwards.
I have enclosed what would have been your schoolbooks for both last year and this year. You're a very smart girl, I'm sure you can find time to learn both magical and non-magical content. I'm equally sure we can arrange for you to do your examinations when back from Hogwarts, and if not you can simply leave for the day and return after the exams are completed. That is assuming, of course, that you feel ready for them. If you don't we simply wait – it would be fair to assume that learning two curriculums at once will take twice as long so don't feel the need to rush. At least this way you have the necessary qualifications to get a job in our world if the magical one chooses to hold you back from your true potential.
Loving regards,
Arthur Stevens
"Can I make a copy of this?" he asked.
Savanah nodded and Harry quickly copied the letter before he handed the original back to her. He knew that people looked down on muggleborns and even halfbloods to a certain extent, but he had thought it was just the rich fanning their own superiority complex. He had no idea that it was so institutionalised! He should have suspected once he learned about the medieval structure of the Wizengamot, but he hadn't thought they'd be able to push it so far without some sort of resistance. Hell, Voldemort's supporters had all believed that muggleborns were infringing on their rights! If this was infringing Harry honestly couldn't imagine what they would think was fair.
If he wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived he would have been faced with caps and barriers even despite his skill simply because he was a halfblood. His mother wouldn't have been allowed to become anything of importance and everyone told him that she was a prodigy! How was that fair?
How far did it stretch? Did it extend into Gringotts? Were muggleborns barred from being cursebreakers or warders? What about mastery programs or research groups, dragon-taming or medical professionals? Were muggleborns barred from them too?
He was getting angry, he realised as he looked down at his clenched fingers, and he spent a few seconds calming himself down before he looked back towards Savanah. He wondered how many muggleborns would put up with such injustice. He certainly wouldn't in their position; he'd return to the muggle world if he was told that he couldn't become anything more than an underling. But then he'd have spent seven years learning magic that he couldn't use, and he would have to learn all the maths and science and geography that he would have learnt had he not been a wizard. His world would become mundane once more, tormented by the knowledge that magic was real but was lingering just out of reach. They might as well just snap his wand.
"Who have you told about this?" he asked quietly.
"Only my friends," she replied, fidgeting in her seat. "And you now, I guess."
"Everyone else should be told too. We don't want to scare everyone who isn't pureblood away, but they should at least know before they've spent seven years learning magic that is then useless because blood discrimination forces them back into the muggle world. Do you still have copies of the stuff you sent to your dad?"
Savanah nodded as she grabbed a thick mass of papers from her bag and handed them to him.
"I'll make sure people know," Harry said, already planning on making a poster of some sort with the most important and most shocking information – it shouldn't be too hard now that he knew what he was looking for. "And well done on finding this stuff. No one else has ever even thought to look, myself included."
Savanah gave him a hesitant smile as he stood from his seat before she returned to her work. Harry shook his head as he wandered back towards Susan and Neville.
"Well?" Neville asked carefully as he took in Harry's frown. "Why is she doing muggle schoolwork?"
Wordlessly, Harry handed over the letter.
Susan read it over Neville's shoulder, and Harry watched as their faces fell further the more they read.
"I knew that it wasn't exactly fair," Neville murmured, "but I didn't think it was that bad."
"That can't be right," Susan said weakly. "I know plenty of muggleborn aurors, and surely they wouldn't let them get away with it if it was that bad?"
"That's because it's the aurors, Sue," Neville said without moving his eyes away from the letter. "Not many people want to do something so potentially dangerous – the DMLE can't afford to be picky about something as pointless as blood status. And who's they? The Ministry? It's the Ministry that's doing it."
Susan struggle for a response for a few seconds before her mouth fell shut.
"I assume you're going to do something about it," Neville said as he handed the letter back.
Harry nodded.
"A poster maybe, or at least something along those lines. Muggleborns should at least know about it so that they have the option to study muggle subjects at the same time. Hell, some might decide it's not worth it and just go back to the normal world."
"Willingly leave magic behind forever?" Susan asked dubiously.
"Sure. I mean personally I wouldn't, but if someone had no particular interest or passion for any of the subjects then yeah. They could go back to the muggle world and be a doctor, an engineer, a musician or whatever else it is that they really want to do."
Neither she nor Neville seemed to believe that anyone would actually choose the muggle world over the magical one, but Harry certainly wasn't going to explain every possible reason why. That would just devolve into a history of muggle technology and science, not that he knew much about those himself anyway. Explaining that people had walked on the moon would be funny though.
Neville left for Gryffindor tower a few minutes later to a chorus of goodbyes from all corners of the room. He was an honorary Hufflepuff at this point and even had an open invitation to the Hufflepuff common room as long as an actual Hufflepuff was with him, and considering that he wasn't particularly friendly with either Ron or Seamus he spent a good amount of time there. It wasn't a sort of secret blessing or anything; there were plenty of others with similar invitations across the school from every house, Slytherin included. They were, unsurprisingly, the only house that allowed outsiders into their common room.
Harry quickly bid Susan goodnight and retreated to his dorm, where he spent the next few hours poring over the documents Savanah had sent her father and noting down exact dates and figures onto a scrap piece of parchment. His dormmates had long since fallen asleep by the time he had created the poster itself and charmed a few dozen copies, and he quickly threw his invisibility cloak over his head and crept from the dorm.
When the castle grudgingly pulled themselves from bed and made their way towards the Great Hall, they found the walls plastered with glossy parchment with a single word written in bold letters across the top: Muggleborns!
Many thought it some sort of prank at first, or even a poster filled with reasons their writer thought muggleborns inferior. When they got close enough to read it, however, they jolted in surprise before they ripped it from the wall and peered down at it, their eyes roving across the lines as their faces twisted in anger, and by the time the house tables were full it was all anyone was talking about.
The muggleborns were, understandably, furious. Rampant discrimination! How did anyone stand for it? They would be hard-pressed to find a decent job after Hogwarts, and if they tried to leave the magical world before they graduated they would be obliviated! A few of the more shrewd students in the lower years were already contemplating the pros and cons of such a decision. They spoke with their friends in whispers, waving the posters around angrily and glaring at the select group of purebloods who were preening. The teachers too were subjected to a multitude of glares. Why had they not told them that their education would more than likely be meaningless?
Within days more posters went up, this time announcing the formation of the Non-Magical Cultural Society. Harry had heard Malfoy loudly proclaiming that "the mudbloods must have made a mistake, the muggles don't have any culture!" to the delight of the small group of hangers-on who had not left him now that he had lost the Black family. Pansy Parkinson in particular seemed to find it hilarious, or at least she did until a fifth year Ravenclaw transfigured her face into that of a pug. Frankly, there was very little difference.
Harry was a little startled by the divide that he had inadvertently caused. The muggleborn and most of the halfblood students on one side, and the purebloods on the other. There were of course exceptions, like Cedric Diggory or the Weasley twins who sided with the muggleborns despite their own pureblood status, and, to Harry's shock, there were even a select few muggleborn students who said they had no right to impose their will on this society when they had only just found it existed. Trying to ingratiate themselves with the wealthy families, Susan said, but still Harry couldn't believe that they would be naïve enough to think the likes of Draco Malfoy and Anette Selwyn would ever think them anything more than vermin.
Friendships that had spanned years suddenly broke apart as purebloods failed to grasp the problems that had their muggleborn friends so incensed. It has always been this way, they would say, so it must work, and why change something if it works? As friendships exploded, however, new friendships formed. Muggleborns from all houses huddled together at dinner, joking and laughing softly, but it was still not difficult to feel the undercurrent of anger that still rippled underneath. Even Hermione Granger seemed to have found a few people willing to tolerate her, though Harry doubted that would last long.
Within a matter of weeks everything about Hogwarts had shifted. No one cared about house rivalries anymore; the points system became meaningless, and the Quidditch Cup became nothing more than a brief distraction from the tension inside the castle. All the animosity that had before been centred around houses was now about blood status, and it had been amplified by several orders of magnitude.
Hufflepuff was relatively insulated from the worst of it simply because of the sort of people that were sorted there. Most were blessed with enough empathy to at least understand the other side's point of view even if they didn't agree with it, but that didn't mean there weren't a few 'debates' in the common room. Spells had only been cast on one occasion, luckily.
Gryffindor wasn't too bad either from what Neville had said – there was only a small group of bigots in the House of the Brave and they were hugely outnumbered, but when tensions did eventually boil over it became quite messy. Slytherin was mostly unaffected as well, beyond the crowing of certain pureblood students. There weren't many muggleborns or halfbloods in Slytherin anyway, and those few had enough self-preservation to keep their mouths shut.
Surprisingly, it was Ravenclaw that was most affected. They had plenty of muggleborns and purebloods alike, and as was the way in Ravenclaw their opinions tended to be held quite passionately. Debate quickly devolved into shouting and then into spells. More than a few Ravenclaws had been put in the hospital wing over it.
"Potter?"
Harry pulled his head out of his book and looked up at fifth year who had appeared next to him, to the great interest of many in the common room. Susan glanced up from their table and immediately returned to her essay.
"Palmer. What do you need?"
The boy in question took the seat next to Susan and leant forwards slightly, now quite conscious of the curious looks the rest of the common room was giving them.
"Well, I was just wondering why you don't come to any of the society meetings."
Harry looked at him in surprise.
"Oh come on Potter, I'm not an idiot. You get visibly angry talking to the girl doing chemistry work, she hands you a bunch of parchments and then the next day there's posters all over the walls? It doesn't take a genius to work out, especially given that we all know you're muggle raised. Why don't you come?"
Harry shrugged slightly and pretended not to notice that the scratching of Susan's quill suddenly became much slower.
"Because I don't think it would be fair. I may be muggle raised, but I'm also the Boy-Who-Lived and the last member of a pretty wealthy family who, frankly, is considerably above average as far as magic is concerned. Who is going to pass me over just because I'm not pureblood? If I turned up it would be like rubbing your faces in it. I won't face any problems for my blood status once I leave Hogwarts – all my anger about it comes from the fact that it's just not fair. Everyone I've spoken to says that my mother was a prodigy, and were she still alive she wouldn't be allowed to be anything of any consequence. That's what made me angry. It's not like you being angry that you will be confined to menial jobs."
Palmer nodded in somewhat confused understanding.
"Still, you could come anyway to learn about the stuff we'd be learning if we were still in school. We've got a whole load of books about everything from biology to classic English literature. Even got a few purebloods who come to learn about all the stuff non-magicals can do. People from all houses, Slytherin included. One of them's from your year actually, quite easy on the eyes too."
Palmer waggled his eyebrows and Harry just looked at him. Susan muffled a snort.
"I don't think Harry's even noticed girls yet," she giggled, "and considering how many girls who would clearly love to drag him into a broom cupboard I doubt that the promise of Tracey Davis is going to convince him."
Harry did his best to ignore the implication that there were girls who wanted to do that with him, exciting though the thought was. Had he just not noticed? He would have to be a little more observant from now on. From the smirk on Susan's face she knew exactly what he was thinking.
"How the hell did you know it was her?" Palmer whispered hurriedly. "If it gets out then she could be in a lot of trouble in Slytherin. Already one of the older members is casting disillusionment charms on her every time she comes to a meeting or goes back to their common room."
"Well it was hardly going to be Pansy Parkinson was it? Tracey is the only halfblood or muggleborn Slytherin girl in our year, and even though Daphne Greengrass is friends with her I doubt she'd care enough to risk her safety and her reputation to learn muggle subjects."
Harry gave Susan an impressed look. He certainly didn't give anyone in Slytherin enough thought to know their blood status, and he definitely didn't care who they were friends with.
"Just please don't tell anyone?" Palmer pleaded.
Both Harry and Susan nodded, and the frown disappeared from Palmer's lips as he breathed a sigh of relief before his gaze switched back to Harry.
"So, what do you say? It's fun."
Harry nodded ever so slightly. He was sure that learning about muggle subjects was fun – he had always thought that biology would be rather fascinating the further you delved into it – but he doubted that there was actually very much of that.
"How much of your meetings are about learning and how much just becomes an angry echo-chamber?"
"Well, I mean," Palmer said, blushing ever so slightly, "there is some politics and the like, but personally I think it's all a bit pointless. I mean, we're schoolkids. What can we do? I admit there are a few more… radical members, but it's not so bad. They're quite happy with the books and stuff once they've got it out of their system."
"Is Hermione Granger a member?" Susan asked suddenly.
Palmer grimaced and let out a low groan.
"I always thought people were exaggerating about her but honestly she's awful. One of the guy's dads is an English professor and he got him to send us a few books and plays, and Granger started harping on that we shouldn't read Lord of the Flies first because Shakespeare is so much better. 'Oh but they're classics! You just have to start with the classics!'" he imitated in a voice very nearly as annoying as Granger's own.
"Yeah," Susan said, failing to contain her amusement, "I'm with Harry on this one. Putting the two of them in a room together is a recipe for disaster even without everything else."
Palmer looked back at Harry who nodded in agreement. Curses would more than likely fly if she tried to lecture him like she had in first year, and considering most of the curses he knew were on the nasty side he doubted it was a good idea.
"Well," Palmer said as he stood up, "if you change your mind you're more than welcome to come. And thanks for making sure we all found out in the first place."
Harry stared after him for a few seconds, wondering why Palmer was so keen on having him there until he chalked it up to the typical Hufflepuff trait of kindness. He had never really understood how some of his housemates' kindness, loyalty, and patience seemed to extend to every single person on earth. As far as he was concerned those things had to be earned.
Susan's snort drew him from his musing, her shoulders shaking with laughter that she was trying to keep quiet.
"Sorry," she said between breaths, "but I'm just imagining Granger lecturing a bunch of seventh years on Shakespeare."
"I'm surprised you know who Shakespeare is, Miss I-didn't-know-that-animals-breathe-oxygen."
"Well that's hardly important is it?" she sniffed. "I can breathe and that's all that matters."
Harry was struck with the sudden urge to headbutt the wall.
~Scene Change~
"Harry, could you stay behind a moment?"
Harry looked at Lupin in confusion. It was the last lesson of the day, yes, but today wasn't their now weekly dive into the pensieve. Was that what he wanted to talk about? The reduction from twice a week to once?
Neville and Susan had been quite surprised he continued to visit Lupin at all actually. They both knew that his relationship with the werewolf was a complex one and both had assumed that it was simply so that he could learn more about his parents. Now that Sirius was a free man they had thought he would drop Lupin and move to Sirius, especially as Sirius had so much more to tell. Stories from the Potter home, of his grandmother and his grandfather. There weren't many memories of note that Lupin was there for but Sirius wasn't. Already Harry had had to stop Sirius a few sentences into a more than one story because Lupin had already showed it to him.
Honestly, Harry wasn't entirely sure why he continued to go either. Lupin was a nice enough man and an excellent professor, but Harry doubted that he would ever be able to forget that Lupin had been content to keep his parents from him. Both Susan and Neville agreed with him on that. Was it because he felt he owed it to his parents to not hurt Lupin's feelings? Or so that Sirius didn't think he was just another container full of stories?
"I'd like to thank you, for making sure Sirius got his trial."
"We wouldn't have had to do anything if Dumbledore had done his job properly all those years ago."
"I'm sure that Albus had his reasons," Lupin said.
Harry resisted the urge to sneer. After his friends' frequent references to Fenrir Greyback's 'pack' he had done some brief research into the subject, and he had found that werewolves did indeed have a pack mentality with a strict hierarchy. He couldn't quite decide whether this refusal to see that Dumbledore had fucked up was a result of that pack mentality, wilful ignorance or just plain stupidity.
"Sirius said that your cousin Dudley is an interesting character," Lupin tried.
"He is."
Lupin sighed.
"You don't like me, do you Harry?"
"I like you just fine, professor."
"And yet you still have not used my first name after I've repeatedly said you are free to, yet you already do so with Sirius."
"Well I can hardly call him professor, can I?" Harry snarked.
"No, I daresay Sirius would hate being called that," Lupin said mildly. "He already said that James would be terribly disappointed that I'd betrayed our solemn swear that we were up to no good."
Harry stood there and looked at him. Lupin sighed again.
"I was going to tell you, you know. That I knew your parents."
"When?"
Lupin frowned uncomfortably.
"When the time was right."
"And I assume that would have been after you'd left Hogwarts."
"You have to understand Harry," Lupin said, "even now talking about them is painful. Especially for me-"
"Yes, yes, I know," Harry interrupted, a little irritated. "Pack mentality and all that. But it's painful for Sirius, painful for my aunt, but they still did it. Did it as soon as they could. You were unwilling to tell the orphaned son of your best friends about his parents because you were too scared that it might hurt."
"Harry…"
"May I go, professor? Dinner will be starting soon."
Lupin nodded tiredly, and with that Harry walked stiffly out. He didn't mind Lupin as a person, he really didn't. The man was kind, intelligent, gentle, but what he couldn't tolerate was his constant attempts to garner sympathy. Trying to make an orphan pity you for the death of their own parents! It boggled the mind.
He stopped going to see Lupin after that. Sirius asked him about it in one of his letters – clearly Lupin had moaned about it – and he had explained everything. It hadn't been brought up again. Harry was willing to bet that Sirius had gotten quite irate with Lupin once he knew the full story; he rather doubted that Lupin had admitted that he had only told him that he knew his parents after a month, and even then only when forced.
The rest of the year passed rather quickly, especially once the dementors had been removed because of a Pettigrew sighting in Austria. Harry had spent the whole day seething when he saw it in the Prophet. The rat was running away to hide, it seemed.
Even exam season didn't throw too much of a shadow over things, especially once results came out and he found out that he had beaten Hermione Granger in everything but History of Magic, Herbology, and Potions, even if she had been annoyingly close in charms. He still wasn't sure how she had managed to do arithmancy, runes, divination, care of magical creatures, and muggle studies all at the same time, but frankly he didn't care enough to find out. He did resolve that he would try harder in both history and herbology next year, though. Trying to improve at potions was a pointless endeavour; Snape would give him a bad mark whatever he did.
The only thing that was causing him any problems was his runes project. It seemed that he had underestimated just how difficult it would be, which frankly was quite impressive considering that he had known that it would be incredibly difficult. He had broken down a not insignificant part of the spell already. The actual spell wasn't overly complex – or at least it didn't seem to be – only now he had hit a roadblock: where the secret was actually hidden, and that meant soul magic.
But soul magic was just so bloody vague! Some books said it was an abstract concept that could somehow still be manipulated, while others said it was something almost tangible that could be ripped and fractured. That particular book had spoken of something that it refused to even name – a container for a part of a soul that had been ripped off. The book hadn't given any reason why someone would want to do that though, so he had simply moved past it with a vaguely interested glance. Given how important the books said the soul was he doubted it could be a good thing to rip some off. He had already resigned himself to spending much of his time over summer with his head in a book.
Escaping the still intensifying conflict between the pureblood and non-pureblood factions was certainly an attractive prospect as well. Calling them factions sounded a little silly, as if they were two sides of a war, but he was starting to see how accurate that statement was. After the first couple of fights in the corridors and the occasional serious injury it became clear that this wasn't a simple disagreement that would be forgotten about within a few weeks. He was really starting to realise just what he had inadvertently caused when he stuck those posters to the wall.
Even on their final night at Hogwarts that divide was clear to see. It was still much like every other end of year feast that Harry had seen, but at the same time it wasn't. The laughter and the grinning was interrupted by occasional glares and scathing comments, tables were split into little groups of students from all years rather than yearmates sitting together as they always had done before, and there was a small group at one end of the Slytherin table that was being subjected to mocking or suspicious looks from the rest. It had been that way for weeks; a stark contrast to the united front that they had been showing for years.
Those that were suspected of being sympathetic towards the muggleborns, Harry assumed. They wouldn't be stupid enough to openly support the muggleborn side, of course, but that didn't stop the rest of the house from isolating them. He could see Tracey Davis talking quietly to an older student, and surprisingly Daphne Greengrass wasn't next to her. She was instead seated further down the table next to Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode, though unlike them she didn't so much as glance towards the group at the other end.
Malfoy sneered at him when he caught his eye. He had been extremely angry ever since Sirius's trial, but he had been intelligent enough not to elevate it beyond glares and the occasional comment. Harry had been surprised and almost disappointed that he hadn't tried to curse him in the hallway. He'd been rather looking forward to embarrassing him.
The final scraps of dessert vanished from their plates as Dumbledore stood up, his smile seeming dim with each passing day.
"Another year of learning has finally come to an end, and as it does we must say goodbye to our seventh years as they leave Hogwarts to explore all that the magical world has to offer."
There was polite applause, as there always was. Several muggleborn seventh years glared at the Headmaster.
"Congratulations to them on completing their final year at Hogwarts, and congratulations to the rest of you on finishing this year of your magical education. Despite what some may believe, Hogwarts truly is the home of the best education you could hope for."
Justin snorted a few places down.
"I was down for Eton," he hissed. "Fucking Eton!"
Harry would have laughed at the anger in the normally gentle boy's voice if he didn't think that anger more than well justified.
"And with that, I bid all of you goodnight. I look forwards to seeing each of you on September 1st for another year of magic. It is sure to be…" he paused, his expression a strange mix of excitement, worry, and disappointment. "Interesting."
Harry shared a glance with Susan and Neville. Interesting? If the past three years hadn't been interesting then he really didn't want to see what an interesting year at Hogwarts truly was.
