She was fuming as she stormed away from the Great Hall. Most students backed out of her way with extreme caution, warned by the look on her face. There was only that one Hufflepuff third year and odds on that Madame Pomfrey would be able to set them to rights. Little worm should not have gotten in her way.
How dare he! How dare that man speak to her that way! How typical that the boy would go whinging and whining because things were not going his way. Regardless the boy had deserved his punishment. It was slander that is what it was. That and the man had threatened her. Not to mention the outright lies. Lucius had assured Cornelius that his son was Heir Black. Slander, threats, lies. She brought her scattered thoughts together. Yes, that was it.
She grabbed a pinch of floo powder and knelt on the cushion she had beside the grate in front of the fire.
"Cornelius Fudge!" She had to wait a moment before the man replied.
"What is it Delores?"
He sounded irritated, but she ignored that, "Sirius Black was here today, Cornelius!"
"So, he met with Dumbledore, Delores it's no great surprise. We've always known he was one of the Headmaster's lackeys."
"No Madame Picquery came to talk to Dumbledore; Sirius Black was with her and wanted to talk to me."
"Why was she there? Wait no. Delores I am about to be late for an important dinner. Can this not wait till morning!"
"No absolutely not. He was accusing me of attacking one of the Heirs. You know I would never do such a thing Cornelius. It is slander, pure and simple. I want him sued!"
"Well take him to court Delores, it has nothing to do with me!" Cornelius had thought that sending the woman to Hogwarts was a brilliant plan when Lucius had suggested it. Someone was keeping an eye on Hogwarts and Dumbledore, and it got her out of his hair. Honestly, she was a public relations nightmare.
"I used the disciplinary methods we discussed Cornelius. If it gets taken to court, I will expect the Ministry to support me."
"Yes, yes," he said distractedly straightening his tie. "Well if that's all." He did not wait for her to nod, before he pulled his head from the fireplace. The woman was mad, they had not discussed any disciplinary measures. All he had said was that she could do whatever she liked within reason. Blast it now he was running late, and it would not do to keep the Malfoy's waiting.
"Where is he?" Lord Black yelled as he stepped out of the kitchen, with Madame Pomfrey.
"Downstairs," Kreacher led the way.
They hurried into the basement room. The first thing that hit them was the smell. Sirius retched but managed to keep his stomach, while Poppy's frown deepened. Dobby was standing next to an elevated table, ensuring that Remus did not fall as he writhed in pain. It was easy to see where the smell was coming from as the wolf had a large jagged wound on the outside of his right leg. The redness of it could be seen spreading up his leg towards his hip, disappearing under the torn leg of his trousers and the skin was shiny and swollen.
Poppy opened her bag and gave it to Kreacher to hold while she rifled through it, pulling out several bottles of potions.
"Hot water in a metal bowl, and a soft clean cloth please," she said tersely as she began to feed Remus potion after potion. A clink sounded signifying the arrival of a table, set with several soft clean cloths and a metal bowl that had steam rising from it. Once she had given Remus a pain relief potion she moved down to his leg. It was only years of training that stopped her from vomiting when she saw the grubs that were wiggling around inside the wound. Dear Merlin, how was she going to fix this?!
"Dobby, I need you to pop to Severus and ask him if there is such a thing as a muscle re-growing potion, for an open wound. If there is ask him how long to make it, and if it is under…2 hours ask him to do so. Pop back with his reply and then return to Severus to help him if required."
"Yes, Mistress Healer Ma'am."
A minute later, he was back. "Professor Snakey says, no. But maybe growth potion after, he will look and see. Maybe he can fix it."
"Right," she wiped the perspiration from her brow. She stopped and looked at the wound. Really there was only one thing she could do. "Kreacher, I need the sharpest knife that you have. It needs to be cleaned with extremely hot water, some ice and a needle and thread. The needle must also be steel and cleaned in hot water."
"Yes Ma'am."
A knife appeared wrapped in a clean cloth. She dropped four…no five….no six…drops of potion into the bowl of hot water, stirred it with one of the cloths and began to wipe down the wound. Remus twitched. She rinsed the cloth out twice before switching it for a fresh one, and having the water changed. Finally after using five of the cloths she could finally see the full extent of the wound.
"I am going to need you to hold him down, Sirius. I dare not cast another spell on him at this point. Kreacher, I am going to need you to stabilise his foot." She grabbed another cloth, to wipe away the last of the pus, until she could see the rotting flesh underneath, there were still grubs visible moving in his skin, she just hoped they had were only eating the necrotic flesh and not the still living muscle.
"Hold him," she ordered as she picked up the knife. Deftly she carved away at the muscle. When she thought she had reached viable tissue. She risked a quick spell to seal the edges of the bleeding vessels, before she wiped it over with a fresh batch of the cleansing potion. Then she took the ice and numbed the edges so she could stitch them together. Lastly, she grabbed a healing ointment, slathered it all over the wound and bandaged over the lot.
Standing up, she stretched her back. "I need a short break before I continue." Kreacher had provided a fresh bowl of steaming water, the smell told her that he had already added the potion. Gratefully she washed her hands.
Dobby appeared with a cup of tea, and whisked away the dirty, used items. Yet another fresh bowl of water was provided. Poppy added more potion to it, only four drops. Sirius helped her to spell the clothes off his friend, so that they could wash him down. His other wounds were tended to none need quite the same attention that the first had and she felt comfortable using the spell to join the edges of skin after they had been cleaned. Though none of the wounds were magically it was likely the experience would have provided him with new scars.
"Poppy, you had best get out of here, moon rise isn't far away," Sirius said as the last wound was sealed and covered in ointment.
"Try and keep him as calm as you can." She looked sadly at Remus remembering the boy who had come into her infirmary once a month during his school years, life had certainly not been kind to the boy. He had so much potential and society just cast him aside.
"I will Poppy." Sirius waved her from the room, and then transfigured the table into a mattress on the floor with Remus still on it. "Lock the door Kreacher, and don't open it again until morning." With those last words he transformed into Padfoot.
The sun was out the next morning. A morning that would forever go down in Hogwarts History as the 'Day of the Toad'.
Delores rose, happily jotted a quick note down and sent it to her lawyer, before completing her morning ablutions. In fact, she would not have noticed anything amiss at all if someone had not happened to have moved the mirror in her bathroom from above the sink to opposite the shower stall door, so that she had to look at her own reflection as she emerged. There was something terribly wrong. Running her hand over her face she let out a little screech as she hurriedly dressed and left the room.
The Matron was not in the infirmary when she arrived, so she hurried back down the stairs towards the Great Hall. If she approached via the teacher's entrance she could remained unobserved, it would not do for the children to see her in such a state. She stood out of sight as she tried to get the woman' attention.
"Psst, Pomfrey. Psst," she hissed, but there was a loud clatter of cutlery and her voice was not heard over the din. "Psst, Poppy!" she hissed louder, twitching now in urgency. "Psst!"
"Oh, good morning, Madame Umbridge," the deep velvet voice of the school's Potion Master, sounded loudly from behind her.
"Oh Severus," she turned her face away from him, as he approached. "Could you get Poppy for me please? It's urgent," she asked, in a muffled voice with her hand covering her face.
"I do apologise but it seems that our Matron has left the table," he continued past her with out pause making his way to his own place.
"What?!" How could the woman do that? Just leave her standing here like this! She must have exited through the Hall. Delores quickly turned and ran back to the infirmary.
"Poppy!" she screeched as she walked in, ignoring the three students who were sitting up in their beds.
"Madame Umbridge, if you would please keep your voice down," the Matron chided as she emerged from her office.
"But this is an emergency!" Umbridge protested getting louder.
"Are you bleeding?"
"No!"
"Are you short of breath?"
"No!"
"Do you have chest or head pain?"
"No!"
"Well what seems to be the problem?"
"Can you not see, woman! Look at my face!"
The grey-haired lady observed the other silently for a moment. "Well if you would like to take a chair over there, I will see what can be done in a moment. I need to treat these students first, so that they might get to class."
"Wait, you want me to wait! What part of 'this is an emergency' do you not understand? I demand that you treat me this instant!"
"The part I do not understand is the part where you think a bit of a skin issue constitutes an emergency, now go sit down, or I will throw you out of my infirmary," Poppy told her bluntly.
"I am the High Inquisitor of this school, and if you do not treat me this instant, I will have you dismissed," Umbridge grinned like a shark.
The three first years who had been watching the verbal volleys gasped.
"You will have me dismissed, will you?" Poppy asked slyly.
"Yes, I will, so I expect no more fuss."
"Oh, you fail to understand me Delores. I will happily leave, but then what will you do? You see, I am in contact with every healer in this country, and a great many elsewhere. We regularly meet over the summer to ensure that we are all up to date in any new developments in our industry. Occasionally it happens that a workplace treats a healer poorly and do you know what happens then?" her smile showed all of her teeth. The other woman shook her head. "What happens is, that place is blacklisted and not a single healer will work there, invariably they are forced to close."
"This is a school! It will not close, we can get on just as well without you."
"Hmm, I will remind you that this is a magic school. Magical incidents happen. It is Ministry regulation that the school must have a Healer on staff." She continued before Umbridge could smugly say that she would get the law changed. "It is also an ICW requirement for any Internationally accepted school to have a Healer on staff. Potions cannot be administered without it being so. Even if you change the law in this country, it would still mean that Hogwarts would be downgraded to a School of the British Isles only. Once this occurs any student wanting to work overseas after their graduation will leave, as they will need Internationally accepted qualification to find work. You will lose anyone wanting to be a Potions Master, Healer, Teacher, Magizoologist, or Politician. That is not to mention that half the positions at the Ministry interact or negotiate with their International counterparts. How many of the students do you think will stay? How will school stay open with the resultant loss of funding?"
"All the ones who mean anything will stay!" Umbridge said surely.
"Mr Malfoy wishes to be a Potions Master, his father wanted him to go to Durmstrang in the first place. Mr Zabini a Politician. Ms Bones a Healer. Mr McMillan wants to go into politics, his sister wants to open an International fashion house. I could go on. Nearly every pureblooded students has aspirations on the International stage after they leave these halls." She watched in satisfaction as the knut dropped. "Now you have wasted enough of my time. Either sit down and wait or leave and close the school down!"
By this time the pair were well within arms distance of each other and Poppy had drawn herself up and loomed over the much shorter woman. Umbridge sank back, took two steps and sat. The Healer attended to her young charges, when they had all had their potions and been sent on their way back to class, she finally returned to look over the still simmering Delores Umbridge.
"Now, what seems to be the matter?"
"My skin, you blithering idiot. Can you not tell?" Delores snapped furiously.
"I must confess I do not routinely gaze at anybody else's skin, unless they are presenting with a rash. You appear to be a normal colour, there is no redness or swelling. Any itching or pain?"
"No."
"You haven't used Perfect Potions or something to cover any blemishes or changes in skin tone?"
"No! I usually have perfect skin thank you very much," Umbridge spat in offence.
"Yes, well. I will just cast a couple of detection spells." A swift wave of the wand, and some muttering of Latin. "Hmm, there does not seem to be anything wrong with you."
"Nothing wrong! It is all lumpy, and it feels, thick, tough!"
"Be that as it may, there is no illness or sickness in it. Have you changed your soap, or face wash?"
"No!"
"Well then I do not know what has happened."
"You useless bint, fix me now! Test me for potions!"
Stern eyes turned on her, "I have no test that can be used to detect potions. If you wish I can give you a cleansing potion that is all. Take it or leave it!"
"I can't do that I have classes to teach today!"
"Then I suggest you get to them!" said Poppy clearly dismissing the other woman.
"This is not over. I suggest that you pack your bags!" As she turned to storm out, intending to emphasise the point by slamming the door, the heel of her shoe broke suddenly, causing her to let out an indignant squeak. It did not stop her from stomping out of the room uneven gait and all.
Sirius rose transforming back into a man, and quickly moved to his friend's side. All in all, it could have been a worse night. Mooney seemed happy to have Padfoot there, and had spent the majority of the night, curled up on the mattress on the floor. At first the wolf had licked at his wounds but apparently, the ointment that Poppy had applied must not have tasted to nice as he stopped relatively quickly. A quick inspection showed that the redness seemed to have receded somewhat. Sirius called for Kreacher to provide him with a quill and ink and marked the edge of the redness. It would allow them to know for sure that the infection was improving, there had been no time to do it the night before.
"Thank you Kreacher," Sirius reached out and took the three phials from the Elf.
Shaking Remus until he appeared to be mostly conscious, Sirius forced him to consume the potions.
"We'll let him sleep, a little longer. I don't think that we should risk moving him," Sirius mused.
A click of the Elf's fingers had the mattress transforming into a bed, complete with fresh sheets. "Master should eat, and sleep. Master Harry will worry." He prodded the man up the stairs, and into the kitchen where a simple breakfast of tea and toast was waiting.
"You are right Kreacher. I'll have a quick bite and a nap. But I need to be up by midday as there is a letter that I need to arrange to have sent to the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler. I'll mirror call Harry when I get up so that he doesn't worry."
Kreacher just nodded and made up another tray of breakfast to take down to the Basement.
Delores Umbridge's first class of the morning the was first year Hufflepuffs, none of them would ever have dared to look her in the eyes so it was doubtful that any of them had noticed her skin. Pulling a small mirror from her handbag she checked her skin between classes. Whatever it was appeared to have cleared up, though now her throat felt a little…dry. The quiet group of Sixth Years moved into their places. Delores reached for the glass of water on her desk and took a sip.
"Wands away books, brrrrt." The entire room of faces jerked up to look at her wide eyed in astonishment. "Hem, Hem."
"Books out, page ribrrrt." Several of the brats gasped, hands over mouths and she was sure that she heard a giggle from the back.
"Which of you…." a deep croak exploded from her mouth. The group at the back of the room, burst into laughter.
"You three, ribbit!" she tried to say furiously, as more children joined in the laughter.
"All of y….croak." Sealing her lips shut she turned to the board and wrote.
Read chapter 4 no talking.
Last two benches detention, tonight!
Just as she finished writing another load croak burst its way from somewhere behind her navel all the way out of her mouth. It made her fat rolls shake. She was pleased that at least there was no more laughter.
She knew better than to even open her mouth for the subsequent lesson, especially as it was the most horrid group, the fifth years, and merely tapped her wand against the board to reveal her instructions when they entered. She sat at her desk, watching the class, with a silencing charm placed on herself, so that they could not hear the errant croaks and ribbits that she emitted every now and then. Fortunately, by the time that lesson ended it seemed to have passed.
Somehow that boy must have been involved! Though she could not see how he had done it. There was no way he had entered her private chambers, they were too strongly warded (she had placed the wards herself) and the …..vocal issue had occurred during the sixth years class. Still it must have been him. Well she was in charge of discipline so did it matter if she could not prove it? She dismissed the thought that Lord Black might actually take action if she had the boy in detention again, after all she would see him in court soon enough, that letter had already been sent. Having made up her mind she strutted into the Great Hall, ignoring the chattering of the student.
Pulling out her throne like seat she smiled at Dumbledore revealing her pointed teeth. The crazy old man did not know that his days at the school were numbered. She smirked as she surveyed the room, soon they would all be bought to heel. It was a pity that she only had a couple of the Quills, still those in the second row of class, only laughed in response to the others, so Filch could take them, that would leave her with Ash Brown, Isobel MacDougall and Eustace Fawley. And of course, Mr Potter. Really she should have just given him a detention slip in class.
Daintily she placed a forkful of food into her mouth and began to chew. It was the Hufflepuff first years who were the first to notice the way Professor Umbridge's eyes seemed to pop out of her head more than was usual and how they flicked around the room. Not to mention the way that her mouth pulled slightly wider to the sides and her tongue seemed to flick around. However, there was not really much to comment on until IT happened.
It seemed that the abundance of fruit on the lunchtime table, had drawn in a cluster of flies or perhaps one of the Gryffindors forewarned of events had released some into the room. One of the poor creatures flew to close and her tongue shot out from her mouth, scooped up the fly, drew it back in and closed sharply with a snap that made several people jump. Blissfully unaware she repeated the action a dozen more times, until it seemed that she was full. Then with an odd motion, her hands placed on the table, she leapt up and forwards. Landing with her heels together, toes turned out, knees bent and splayed, hands still in front of her. Her skirt was pulled tight between her knees, revealing her unmentionables to the front row. Again, her eyes, seemed to swivel from side to side, the elongated tongue lashed out to consume whatever unsuspecting insect happened by and again she leapt this time onto the end of the Hufflepuff table, causing the first years to scream and scatter. Colin Creevey stood up from his place and the Gryffindor table, camera in hand and took a photo, just as her tongue flicked out and swiped across Hannah Abbots face. The girl shrieked and ran from the room.
Pandemonium broke out as Umbridge hopped her way around the room and out the doors, her escape ended with the women submerged in the shallows of the Black Lake, nose and eyes just above the edge of the water. It was there that she came back to herself. Needless to say, when she finally pulled her shivering body out of the water, she was not happy.
"Harry!" Sirius called into the mirror.
"Sirius!" Harry grabbed the mirror, falling down onto his bed. He had returned to the dorms with Ron and Neville to dump their bags before heading to dinner. With a nod, he let the pair know that they did not need to wait, he would join them after the mirror call was finished.
"Is he ok?" he asked worry bleeding into his tone.
"He isn't well, but it looks like he'll be alright," Sirius smiled at Harry's relieved smile.
"I was worried, what with last night," the teenager admitted.
"Me too. The transformation was obviously more painful then normal, but Mooney seemed happy enough to just curl up all night. He licked at his wounds a bit, and snuffled around Padfoot, but other than that it was a quiet night. He has a nasty wound on his leg, but Madame Pomfrey seems to have managed to control the infection."
"Did he say what happened?"
"He's still unconscious Pup, but his temperature is down. For now let's just concentrate on getting him better and we can sort out what happened later."
"Should I tell the Headmaster?"
"I wouldn't. Chances are Poppy will let him know anyway, but I think you calling out his lies at this point is not going to help us any. Let the Headmaster think you are still oblivious." Harry nodded. "Right then, I'm glad a caught you, because you should be receiving the paperwork we talked about at dinner. Sam sent it off earlier. Off you go to dinner."
"Yes Dad," Harry grizzled, completely unaware of his unconscious use of the word or the affect it had on his godfather.
As Harry sat down to dinner, the short, round, pink-clad figure of the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor bustled over to his place at the table.
"Detention with me this evening Mr Potter?" she said sweetly.
"Sorry Ma'am, but no," Harry looked away from her and reached over to grab a bread roll out of the basket.
"I am in charge of the punishments at this school Mr Potter and what I say goes! I will see you at seven."
"No, thank you." Harry took a bite of the now buttered bread roll, seemingly unbothered.
"That will be a weeks' worth of detention!" her voice was slowly scaling upwards.
"No."
"A month!"
"No."
"You will be in detention every free moment you have from now until the end of the year!" she finally hissed.
Harry stood, looking down on her, "No! Firstly, my Lawyer has advised me that I am not to be alone in any room with you. Secondly….." he nonchalantly reached out a hand to catch a rolled up sheet of parchment that fell seemingly from nowhere (really though Hedwig, flew out of sight exceedingly quickly). "You will find that this is your copy of the magical restraining order that my Guardian has taken out against you. Thirdly," here he looked around the room. "Anyone having a detention with Delores Umbridge," he ignored Hermione's hissed 'it's Professor Umbridge!' as he continued, "who wishes to join in a class action to be taken against her, and pending the investigation, possibly the Ministry, please write to Samuel MacMillan. Oh, and lastly, issuing a detention implies that there has been some kind of infraction, and I have not done anything wrong, so again I say to you, no."
He walked from the hall, ignoring her blustering calls, and made his way to the Infirmary.
"Now my boy," the Headmaster had approached not bothering to mask his footsteps, as Harry sat at Percival's bedside, working quietly on his homework. He did not look at the older man. "Your behaviour today has been inexcusable, and you will not be excused from Professor Umbridge's detentions. I understand that this is a tough time for you, my boy. However, we cannot be taking our fits of pique out on others, now can we?"
Harry was sure the man's eyes were twinkling for all they were worth, but he refused to look.
"I am not your boy, Professor. I find such an insinuation perturbing and you are not allowed to converse with a student, without a ….chaperone being present. If you wish to talk to me about my schoolwork, then send me a time with enough notice and I will arrange for my guardian to attend."
"Why do you keep espousing this fallacy, Harry?" There if he bothered to look would be the patented, Albus Dumbledore look of disappointment, Harry could tell by the tone of voice.
"You should treat all your students the same Professor," Harry said quietly, hoping that Madame Pomfrey would return soon. "I don't believe that you refer to any of the others so familiarly or have any say in their lives outside of Hogwarts. In fact, it is their Heads of House who act as the guardians for the muggleborn students. Even Hogwarts a History says so, according to Hermione."
"Harry, I am, as I have always been, your guardian. There are times when as the Headmaster I take on that role. Now I understand that teenagers go through their rebellious stages, Merlin knows I did, but you do not have time to indulge it in this way. So, I am afraid that I must insist that you attend your detentions, as you should."
"And why should I Professor? I did nothing wrong!"
"Oh, my boy…"
"Don't call me that!"
"Oh, such childish hormones," Dumbeldore tutted serenely. "As they say in the muggle world, you did the crime, now you must do the time. As Delores Umbridge is in charge of detentions, I am afraid my hands are quite tied in the matter."
"I have done nothing wrong Professor."
"So, you did not make her croak and act like a frog."
"I can honestly swear that I had no hand in it." Well technical it was true; his hands had been nowhere near those potions.
"Still you were exceedingly rude in the Great Hall, so the punishment stands."
"No, professor. I am currently not allowed to be in any room alone with that woman."
The frown grew, leaning even more heavily towards disapproval. "Well then it is fortunate that she has three other students in detention tonight isn't it? I suggest you get a move on, if you are late, she will only add on more."
Harry was effectively hustled out of the room. He made a quick stop in the bathroom, calling to advise Sirius of what had happened and then walked to the Defence office. With the exception of the presence of Ash, Isobel and Eustace the detention was identical to the last. Though Umbridge did spend an inordinate amount of time gloating. When he left, he was cornered by the three older students, asking for the details of the class action, which he happily provided, as he led them towards the Hospital Wing.
"Why the infirmary?" Ash asked.
"Madame Pomfrey, has a potion that can help reduce the binding, scarring and pain from the quill." Harry pushed open the door.
Standing next to Percival's bed was an old man, and by old Harry meant ancient. The knut dropped.
"Mr Flamel!" Harry said quietly so that the other students would not hear, as they followed him into the room. "Oh, grab a seat," he waved the others towards the made-up beds, before he walked over to the office and tapped on the door.
"Mr Potter?!"
"Did you not hear us?"
"No, the Headmaster still has not had a look at the wards." She frowned.
"There are four of us, straight from detention with Madame Umbridge."
"Harry just because you know that Severus makes the potion, doesn't mean you can recklessly get detentions you know."
"I know, Madame Pomfrey, honestly I didn't even do anything wrong this time," Harry saw the concern that was behind the scolding. "Um, there is also an old gentleman, sitting near Percival's bed. I believe it might be Mr Flamel."
"Really!" she peered over Harry's shoulder. "Right well, make yourself useful, you know which potion it is. Get a bowl set up for everyone while I talk to Mr Flamel."
Harry used the time spent soaking his aching hand to sketch out a runes scheme to ward the Hospital wing as he tried not to pay too much attention to the conversation being had between Madame Pomfrey and the elderly man. The ward could be tied to either a bell, or Madame Pomfrey, so she would be advised if someone came into the ward, and he was pretty happy with the results by the time that he was finished.
"Right you lot, it is well past curfew, so I won't send you back to your dorms now. No point getting another detention on top of the one you just had. Clean yourselves up and into bed, hospital pyjamas will do for tonight, and the Elves will bring up a clean set of your robes in the morning," Madame Pomfrey said briskly as the stranger left.
"Ma'am?" Harry drew her attention. "I have drawn up a bit of a scheme for a ward, if you want to show it to Professor Babbling. It could be engraved on the doorway, or on a couple of stones placed on either side."
With a gentle hand she took his notes and glanced over them. Though it had been a long while since she had last studied runes, it did appear that they would work. Yes, she would show them to Bathsheba and perhaps Septima just to be sure.
"Thank you, Mr Potter, I am glad you were using your time wisely. Now," she saw him open his mouth to ask a question, "I am sure that you want to know about Percival. But there is nothing much to tell as yet. You were right it was Mr Flamel, and he has a few ideas. He is hoping to return in the next day or two to sort out a treatment."
"Should I let Aunt Sera know?"
"Don't you worry about it, Mr Flamel said he will tell her. For tonight, you just worry about getting a little sleep. I'll make sure to send tonights notes off to Mr MacMillan."
"Thank you." Harry nodded to her and made his way to the now empty shower room.
Somewhere else in the castle, a brown amphibian was sitting on a bed, surrounded by swathes of pink material. There was a near silent pop and then several clicks, before a final pop and the room was silent again.
"You know we can't let this stand!" the redhead said, turning to his identical companion.
"Indeed, we cannot."
"Harrykins taking the fall for our prank."
"It's just not done."
"What about…."
"Simple is best," he inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Though I think we should follow it up with ….."
"Several doses?"
"The longer it goes on the better the effect."
"Should we let the others in on it?"
"Nah, make it a surprise. They could all do with a pick me up."
"We could just give them some Pepper up potion then."
"Or we could get brewing brother of mine."
"Do you think we could make it into a syrup and add it to toffee."
"Chocolate."
"Chocolate Bourbons!"
"Yes, who doesn't like licking the cream out of the middle?"
"She'll dunk them in her tea."
They grinned wickedly at each other and hoped that Lee would forgive them for locking him out of the dormitory again.
Because Harry was tired the next day he slept in, remaining blissfully unaware of the kerfuffle in the Great Hall. It seemed someone had spiked Madame Umbridge's tea with a babbling beverage and she had blithered and blathered on about all her plans for the school, following the dismissal of the beloved Headmaster of course. She then went on to outline her plans for the classes, which invariably could be broken down into having them all read from the textbooks every lesson and write out essays on each chapter. In fact, they would do better just to copy out the chapters, straight from the texts, no paraphrasing required. Copywrite laws be damned.
She spoke of how wonderful a teacher she was and how great it would be once she finally achieved her goal of assuming the Headmastership. Then she extemporised on the new rules that she would implement. How all creatures should be drowned at birth along with the half-breeds and finally someone, no one saw Filius Flitwick's hand movement, silenced her. She continued rabbiting on anyway.
The students turned away as the mail arrived. On the front cover of both the Quibbler and the Daily Prophet was a picture of Delores Umbridge, shown in full-page glory, hands and feet on the table, knees spread, and her skirt pulled tight, she then jumped into the air and landed on the Hufflepuff table, the traumatised children scattered, before the image reset. The heading read in the Quibbler read Parents raise concerns over High Inquisitor's sanity. The article inside, was surprisingly balanced between the issues raised by several parent's (apparently the view received by the Hufflepuff first years was rather traumatising) and the Minister stating that he supported his appointed High Inquisitor and was sure that there was a reasonable explanation for her actions. Which the author suggested was just the Ministry trying to coverup the Rotfang conspiracy. The Daily Prophet featured a watered-down version of the story, giving the Minster's views, with a quote from a concerned member of the board, who raised issues about the amount of pranking going on at the school and the lack of discipline following such events. The article on Albus Dumbledore's dereliction of duty 'Hogwarts Silence. How much are we missing?', was relegated to page three, much to his relief as it was particularly scathing.
Meanwhile, Umbridge had not stopped talking, seemingly not noticing the silencing charm.
Severus leaned over towards the school's healer, "Should we do something?"
She glanced at the woman very briefly, "I don't see why we should, after all she is not ill. It looks to be a Babbling Beverage of some kind, though it seems to be a modified version as she obviously not talking complete nonsense." She added in a quieter tone, "I find myself rather interested to see how long it lasts."
"Personally, I suspect Potter," Severus said.
"Listening to the way you have gone on about his potions skills in previous years, I would not have thought he had the skill," she looked at him curiously.
"It seems that the boy was missing several rather important texts on basic ingredient preparation. In fact, the entire class of Gryffindors was. Since the error was pointed out to them, they have all made the effort to catch up. Even Longbottom is improving."
"Regardless, the boy was in the Infirmary all night, and I will vouch for that if required."
"Hmm," Severus failed to mention that Harry had access to a House Elf.
It took two whole lessons for Umbridge to regain her ability to speak in a sensible fashion again, so it was not until lunch that she read the Prophet. Almost immediately afterward there was a new Educational Decree announced and Filch was set to posting it to the wall outside the Great Hall. The new decree prohibited any student from being in possession of a copy of the Quibbler. Shortly after the decree was posted copies of the magazine could be found conveniently placed in every corner of the school disguised to look like copies of the Defence Against the Dark Arts text, and by dinner time every student had read it. A fact, Luna Lovegood was rather pleased about.
By the end of the day Delores Umbridge was at her wits end, all she wanted was to take a relaxing bath and go to bed. Trying to chase down copies of that ridiculous magazine had worn her out, of course she had sent another message to the lawyer to add the events to the building case against Sirius Black, whom she presumed to be responsible. Finally, after a long soak she dressed and made her way to her desk. Yes, a nice cup of tea before bed would be just the ticket oh and look, they had left a plate of chocolate biscuits for her, how delightful. She settled in, happily marking corrections on the essays given to her by the fourth years. Oh dear, not many of them would pass. She shook the crumbs from her gown as she stood, put her nightcap on and made her way to bed. Oh good, the little rats who cleaned up had finally received the message and placed a bed warmer between her sheets, well that was wonderful. It only took her a few minutes before she began to doze.
"Eek!" she cried at the pin prick of pain under her shoulder. What in Merlin's name was that? Something had bitten her. She ran her hand over the area, but could find no insect, so she settled down again. Lying awake, waiting for the feeling to recur. Five minutes and all was quiet, perhaps she had imagined it. Eyelids began to droop, softly fluttering closed.
"Ow!" she howled. Oh, that was a wicked nasty bite on her leg this time. A flick of her wand and a muttered 'Lumos' produced a light as she jumped out of the bed, threw back the sheets, and found…..nothing. She lifted her nightgown, exposing a large expanse of dimpled thigh, one that showed no sign of a mark or any redness. Rubbing her hand over the sheet, produced no prickle or bur. With a huff she returned to her bed, pulling up the covers. Waiting for the next pinch of pain.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Nothing, half an hour later still nothing. Relieved that whatever it was must have moved on she allowed herself to drift to sleep.
"Ahh!" Two! This time there were two of them! She called for fresh sheets and changed her clothes. It made no difference. She tried bathing again. The results were the same. She swore and cursed at the poor Elf, who was wringing her hands, finally telling the small thing that she was being given clothes as she thrust out her used night things, for the Elf to take. The Elf looked at her briefly before popping away, glad to be able to leave. While the little Elf was grateful that Umbridge had no power to actually give her clothes she was even more relieved that it meant that she did not have to serve that particular witch anymore. So far fifteen Elves had been 'given clothes' by the woman. Every one of them was only too willing to help the same-faced-Wheezeys (or any other student for that matter) prank her.
The sun was beginning to rise, and Delores Umbridge had not had one wink of sleep. With a huff she had another shower and dressed, heading to the Great Hall. She stumbled over own feet and practically fell into her chair at the breakfast table, demanding that the extra strong coffee be provided.
Sometime the previous day an enterprising sixth year Ravenclaw student had removed their memory of Umbridge's verbal diarrhoea over the breakfast table and sent it into to both the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler. It was much more difficult for the Minister to deny that the woman had spoken about her plans to re-instate corporal punishment, eliminate practical lessons at all and expel any muggleborn student, when a certified copy of the memory had been provided to both papers as well as the Education office at the Ministry. The Quibbler had managed to turn a short section of the memory into the picture and transcribed the rant word for word (up until the point where the woman had been silenced). Students began to worriedly ask the professors what these plans meant, several were already making plans to move to Beauxbatons or Ilvermorny. By midmorning there was new Educational Decree, prohibiting students from asking teachers questions about any topic other than the subject they taught.
That evening Delores collapsed into her chair, pushing aside the pile of unmarked essays she called for a pot of tea. It appeared on a tray with a small pile of white sweets. Oh, that was just what she needed. Four hours later she was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Merlin she was tired. She closed her eyes and lay there some more. Hours passed, still she was awake. Somewhere in the distance a roster crowed, and she wanted to strangle the beast. Or possibly the half-breed who kept it. Coffee oh that would help, yes.
The lights seemed to flicker as she made her way to the Great Hall and she was sure that the floor was moving with her every step. She yelled at the portrait of Drunk Monks, for looking at her the wrong way. Three of them left their painting in a huff, while the last, poked out his tongue and made a rude hand gesture which caused the third years who were trying to pass by unnoticed to giggle, earning them a detention.
Harry did not know what was up with Umbridge but ever since the Day of the Toad she had set the prefects to following him. After two days he had finally managed to slip away to the Infirmary. Percival's condition had not changed, he was still lying seemingly frozen. With a nod to Madame Pomfrey he pulled out the chair next to bed and sat down. He gave a sad little sigh as he picked up Percival's hand.
"Perce, There's so much going on that I wish I could talk to you about. You'd be proud of me. I'm staying on top of my homework and I have gotten copies of the notes for all the classes that you've missed ready for you when you wake up. Not that you need them. Draco and the Slytherins are being a pain, siding with Umbridge. They deliberately provoked Ron and the twins yesterday. Saying horrible things about the Weasley's just because they are poor. We just walked away. It was hilarious actually as they didn't know what to do about that and kind of followed us up the hall heckling us lamely until Professor Flitwick came up and gave them detention. I know Umbridge will say they don't have to go but still."
"Mr Potter," an aged voice sounded next to him, and Harry wondered how the man had approached so silently.
"Oh, Mr Flamel. How are you?"
The old man chuckled, "Hmm, as good as can be expected at my age."
"Oh," Harry went to stand and offer the elderly man the seat, but Flamel laughed at him.
"I am not so old that I cannot find myself a chair young man." With a nonchalant flick of his wand a chintz wing backed chair appeared beside Harry. "Though I do admit, sitting down is a relief at times." He let out a groan and there was a rather concerning creak as his knees bent. "I've had to start making the chairs with longer legs, so I do not have to bend as far," he admitted.
"Do you …."
"Do not be so hasty, young Mr Potter. I believe the delightful Seraphina will join us shortly."
Not a moment later the fireplace at the end of the room, flared green and Aunt Sera emerged.
"Harry darling."
He rushed to stand and stepped into her warm hug. It was not until he was surrounded by her presence that Harry realised how much he needed the physical comfort.
"There's been no change," he said in a small worried voice.
"Perhaps Nicholas can shed some light on what is going on Harry," she suggested, pushing Harry to sit in the chair once more, content to stand beside the bed holding on to Percival's hand.
"I believe I can." Nicholas Flamel was not quite prepared for the eager green stare that was turned on him. "Oh, um. I believe he has had the Sleeping curse cast on him. Though perhaps inexpertly. If cast correctly it forces the victim into a deep sleep as their deepest desires are bought to the forefront of their minds, which can of course be a traumatic thing. Humans are notorious for wanting the things that are worst for them, or things which we are unprepared to face. Normally the sleep should last a mere hour or two. That his has continued suggests it was cast with confused intentions or that it has been interfered with in some way."
"Does that mean he is stuck, Sir?"
"Oh no, lad. He'll come out of it eventually." Flamel seemed completely unperturbed by the vagueness of his statement.
"Can you give us a clearer timeline than eventually, Nicholas?" Seraphina asked.
"Hmm, I should think within a year or two," he nodded to himself happily.
"A year or…" Seraphina placed a warning hand on Harry's forearm, effectively cutting off his explosion.
"Is there any other way to awaken him?"
"Hmm, I should think so," the man spoke slowly, almost drowsily. They waited an excruciatingly long period of time before he spoke again. "Try presenting him with what he desires most." Flamel's eyes drifted shut.
"What does Perce desire most?" Harry asked agitatedly. "He wants to increase the knowledge of magic, um, to defeat Riddle….."
"Those are things he has been tasked with Harry, not necessarily what he desires," Seraphina added.
"Then what….."
"I do not know. This Percival is alike the old one in many ways, but vastly different in others," she gave a sad little smile. "My Perce, desired things like honesty, integrity, and fairness."
"How can I give those things to him?" Harry was becoming distressed.
"I do not know," she leaned down and ruffled his hair gently. "We'll think of something."
It had been another sleepless night spent laying there staring at the ceiling. Desperately tired. Delores was unsure now if she was hearing things, there were odd voices that seemed to follow her around at times. There were strange tinglings on her skin, like someone had hit her with a very light tickling curse. Her eyes were itchy, and nothing tasted as it should. Again nothing had been detected when she had been up to the hospital wing to be checked out again. She was sure it was the BOY, but she could not find him anywhere. Anytime she asked the prefects where he was, the reply was always, 'he's in class'. In the end she had given them a detention for telling lies.
Harry had come to the Hospital wing again, hopefully he would think of some way of bringing Percival out of his endless sleep. Surprisingly Luna had appeared from the opposite corridor as he arrived, carrying a bacon butty wrapped in a napkin, which she promptly handed to him.
"You can't think if you don't have breakfast, Harry," she told him in her airy distracted way.
They sat on either side of the bed, and Harry told her the story of how he and Percival had met. Luna had been most excited that he had met Nicholas Flamel and wanted a word by word recount of what the elderly gentlemen had said. Then she gazed blankly off into the distance for a while. The silence that fell over them was not awkward, more a mutual contemplation. Eventually the blonde spoke.
"It's a bit like that muggle fairy tale isn't it?"
Harry stared at her blankly.
"You know the one where the princess ate the poisoned apple or the one where she pricked her finger on the enchanted spindle and fell into an enchanted sleep."
"I'm sorry but I don't know where you are going with this, Luna. Are you saying Percival is a princess?"
"Would that make you Prince Charming then?" she giggled. "I think that might be a bit back to front."
Harry's eyes almost bugged out of his head.
Then with a sudden change of demeanour, she said surprisingly bluntly, "I am suggested that he might wake up if you kiss him Harry."
"Oh. I don't think that could be what he desires," Harry frowned.
"Why not? The narcolumps are buzzing round not just his head but yours, you know. Which is a sure sign."
"But I can't kiss him while he's alseep!" Harry protested. "It's not right, it's taking advantage. It's…"
Giving a little giggle, Luna smiled, "It's ok Harry. I'm sure Percival won't mind."
He supposed that it would not hurt. If nothing happened Luna was the only one around to witness him making a fool of himself, and he could sort it out later if Perce was offended. Taking a deep breath in he leaned forwards and gently pressed his lips to Percival's cold lax ones.
"I would think that you need to show more enthusiasm than that Harry," Luna poked him in the side.
"Well, I'm feeling a bit embarrassed with you stood right there, watching me!" He cried jumping upright. With a grin and another giggle Luna turned away from him. Harry bent over the bed again leaning in close and whispering quietly, "Please come back Perce. I miss you." A single tear ran down his cheek. As he bent closer and pressed a heartfelt kiss to the slack lips the tear fell unnoticed onto Percival's face.
Straightening up he watched closely. There was not a flicker of movement, no indrawing of breath, no growing warmth, nothing.
"Mr Potter, Miss Lovegood, I suggest you make your way to the Great Hall for dinner," Madame Pomfrey's voice echoed through the near empty ward.
Staring blankly at Percival, Harry wanted nothing more than to fall to the floor and give in to the tears that were burning at the back of his eyes. A small hand found its way into his, "Don't give up hope Harry. Sometimes when you are lost it can take a while to find your way home."
He held on tightly as she led him away.
Blinking strange flashing lights and dots out of her eyes, Delores Umbridge made her way to her rooms. Hoping that tonight would be the night when she finally got to sleep. There was a bottle of firewhiskey on her bedside table, surely a little tipple before she turned in would not hurt. Oh, and look there was a little tray of sweets next to it. It looked like she had finally trained those House Elves.
While she was waiting for the Staircase to finish turning, Hermione could not help but think how well her week was going. It might not have been quite what she had meant to happen but the by-product of Percival jumping in the path of her spell was that he was out of the way for the time being. Hopefully she would be able to capitalise on that and convince Harry that he was being manipulated. It looked like the other boy was going to be unconscious for a while so she should have ample time. Then things could return to normal.
The twins, well she assumed it was the twins, were being useful with their pranks for once and targeting the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. While Professor Umbridge was a teacher and therefore should be automatically entitled to respect, it was clear that she was merely a spokesperson for the Ministry. The Ministry should have no say at Hogwarts. She was sticking her nose in where it was not wanted and trying to give the Headmaster a bad name by having everybody fail Defence Against the Dark Arts. Now if she could only convince Harry to teach everyone, the risk of getting caught was worth it. In the case that they were caught detention with Umbridge was obviously not that bad, it was only lines after all. Hermione added that to her list of things to talk to Harry, again.
She had been keeping an eye on her friends and surprisingly Harry had continued with his new study practices, which meant that Ron was also up to date with his homework. The wonderful by-product of that was that she had not wasted time nagging them and had taken the time to read her latest book over again. Most importantly, she thought, she had not lost the book!
"Come in Hermione." The Headmaster was standing near the window, his dark shadow in stark contrast to the light behind him. He was running his hand over the crest of Fawkes' head, as she entered the room.
"Good afternoon Headmaster," she smiled as she greeted the old man. He really had been so very kind to her. Introducing her to the Wizarding world, ensuring she had all the knowledge she need to take up her role, in Harry's life. She knew it was because she was special, more intelligent than all the others. The absolute best of the best.
"Ah, I see you have something for me," he peered at her over his half-moon spectacles.
"Yes, Professor," she proudly moved forwards and placed the book on the oak desk.
"You would not happen to be responsible for the predicament of young Mr Graves, now would you Hermione?"
"Oh, Professor," she blushed deeply.
"Tell me what happened," he demanded in a firm voice.
"Well reading about the spell I thought it could be very useful. Harry, well, Harry has always been confused, with what I think his family was like it is not a surprise. I thought that this spell could provide him with a little direction."
"Did you consider that this spell might have bought the fore front of his mind a desire to harm and hurt?"
She tilted her slightly to the side as she considered, "You're talking about him going dark," she mused. "That is not really Harry. He is too forgiving if anything, just look at how he has forgiven Ron for his jealous during the tournament."
"Yes, Hermione, but often the deepest depths of the soul desires things which are forbidden and pushed aside. Perhaps he has been holding on to that resentment at home he is not allowed retribution, perhaps knowing it is out of reach he desires it even more."
"If that were to prove to be the case then I think it would be best for all concerned that it come out now, rather than later when there is no chance of correcting the situation."
"But that was not what happened was it, Hermione?"
"No, I don't know how he did it but Percival, jumped forward pushing Harry out of the way. I really did not mean for him to fall over the balcony," she added the last meekly.
"I would not worry about it. It appears the boy will be fine. Did he see you?" she shook her head. "Well, that is something. I wish you had thought to bring your plan to me. You could have been caught so easily, and I would have been able to do nothing," he said with concern. "If you had cast it on Harry when he was already asleep, then no-one would ever have known. He would merely have woken up the next morning having faced his desires in his sleep. However, there was no harm done and I am impressed that you had the strength to cast it." She could practically feel how proud he was of her.
He pulled another book from under his desk, sliding it towards her. She never saw his predatory grin, her entire focus being on the book, with its wrinkled leather cover. There was no title on it just the picture of a wand.
"I'll be more careful next time," reaching out a hand she stroked the bindings. "I'll bring any plans to you first," Hermione promised, lifting her gaze to meet the Headmaster's.
His twinkling eyes watched her as she walked from his room, hugging the book to her chest.
As Delores Umbridge dragged herself from bed, she groaned she could not even remember how long it had been since she had experienced anything like a full night sleep. Her eyes were itchy, and her mouth parched, fortunately she kept a glass of water on her bedside table, today the Elves had helpfully left a slice of lemon in it. She could tell already that it was going to be a long day. Both staff and students were now actively avoiding her. At the very least she would make an effort to speak to the staff about the matter. Their behaviour could not be allowed to continue, she had at least one more review to conduct, this week.
Barely coordinated enough to put one foot in front of the other she dragged herself in to the ensuite, hoping that a shower would make her at least semi awake for the day. At least she only had to face two classes with the brats today. For the moment she put that aside, the brats were easy to handle, all she had to do was issue detentions if they started misbehaving. She dressed quickly, barely glancing in the mirror before she left the bathroom. It took her until she opened the door for her mind to register what her eyes had seen. No! Surely that could not have been correct. Heart rate picking up, she stepped back to view herself once more. The mirror enlarged enabling her to see her whole body. Her round, face and double chin…no distinguished jaw line, the matching pink of her shirt and robe, her tail swished, coming into view over her shoulder.
.Swished.
She closed her eyes and looked again, human face, cute little skull shaped buttons on her robes, yes. There at the bottom of the mirror, where her lovely pink court shoes should be, were hooves. They were painted pink to match her ensemble, but they were hooves. Her hand flew to her chest, heart racing as she took in the elongated rump and four legs. Delores Umbridge fainted on the spot.
Percival was tired, oh he was tired. Wandering through the never-ending mists of wherever this place was. Every once in a while he felt warmth, or caught a waft of the smell that Harry always carried with him after flying, like cold ozone, and he would follow it, until it disappeared. There was no way of knowing how long he had been there or how far he had walked. He was nearly at the point of collapse, it was only the chiding of Death that kept him moving. In someways he thought Death was right in others he was sure the God was wrong. Harry needed to grow in confidence first, there was no point teaching him fancy spells if he did not have the confidence to pull them off. Yes they probably could have moved on to other spells by now, but there had been other obstacles to negotiate first. He admitted freely that he had not done enough to draw the attention of the Headmaster onto himself. That was easily corrected though.
There it was again, the warmth, the smell. Was it stronger here? Yes, he must be getting closer. There! Directly in front of him, just visible through the mist was a door. He put his hand on it, dragging his fingers across the surface, the grain seemed almost familiar. Pressing his ear to it, he could hear an odd lub dub, lub dub. As strange as it felt, he turned his nose to the wood and inhaled. Oh, by the Gods, it smelt like Harry. Harry would be so worried by now. There was no door handle, or keyhole. Damnation, but he would not be denied. Harry was on the other side of that door, and by hell or high-water he was getting through it. He pushed and shoved at it. Stood back and kicked it but it would not budge. Finally taking a few steps back he got a run up and charged at the door with his shoulder. It splintered down the centre and gave way. There was the sensation of falling into cold water, and he opened his eyes with a harsh gasp.