Dear Aunt Petunia….
The morbidly obese man scrunched the letter up in his fist. It did not even feel like real paper. The Freak did not even have the common decency to use normal lined paper like the rest of the world. How dare the boy write a letter to Petunia. The envelope lay on the table, its single stamp mocking him. How dare she! How dare she receive letters from that freak as if he were a normal member of society. He glanced at the paper in his hand….. in regards to your question….. Clearly she had been writing to him too! He would not tolerate it, would not stand for it. They had said that they would stamp out any sign of freakishness in the boy, and now he discovered her betrayal.
How long had it been going on? Was it only recent since the other Freak had arrived? Yes, Dudders had changed that night. Vernon had thought it was due to the Dementoids or whatever they were but maybe it was not. Maybe it was like Marge had always claimed, if there was something wrong with the pup then there was something wrong with the bitch. And he was sure that there was something wrong with Dudley now. He kept going on about eating healthily and exercise, wanting to make the team, and do well in school. For goodness sake he had joined a mentoring program! Some Namby Pamby nonsense for cissy boys that was. Where did it all come from. They had always known that something was wrong with the Freak, and certainly the Freaks parents were known to be abnormal, so did that mean that Pet's Grandparents were just as strange? Funny that she had never mentioned them.
Lifting the glass to his lips, he took another sip of the amber fluid, ignoring the slight burn as he swallowed. Lowering the tumbler to place it on the table. It was not often that Vernon Dursley was able to get away from work early, however after a small discrepancy had been found by the company accountants an independent auditor had been called in. Each director had been ordered to handover their files for: outstanding orders, order history and customers, in their purview. Like the good company man that he was Vernon handed the files over in short order and was to return extra early the next morning for an interview. The whole situation was vexing. While he had not committed any legal infractions per se there had certainly been a time…or two when he had perhaps not gone through appropriate channels for some of the deals that he knew would be approved anyway. Like that time, he gave a special price on the order for Marge that perhaps was not quite the number of drills meant to qualify for the bulk discount. Or the time a couple of years ago when he had accepted that holiday, he had told Petunia it was a work trip, as part of the negotiations to give a further discount off the order for Hardey's. Still he was sure that the Board would not mind, after all it still put money in the bank.
What it meant was that he was home early, and Petunia the wretched woman was out, probably having an affair with Mr Number fifteen, the one that she was always ogling, from down on the corner. It made his blood boil knowing that while he was at work, slaving away all day, she was at home. Doing what exactly? What exactly did the blasted woman do all day? He would be having words with her about it.
The point was he was home early. Early enough to be home when the post arrived, and he had found the letter from their Nephew. The roiling, burning feeling grew in his abdomen. That little piece of snot, who had come in unasked for, unlooked for and taken over their lives. Despite being a junior executive when Dudley had been born they had managed quite well. Once the boy had been foisted on to them, they'd had to cut corners, in order to save. Instead of his boy having the best of everything they had been forced to compromise. Instead of Harrods, they'd had to shop at Debenhams. Instead of holidays to Brighton they'd had to stay at home. There had been no trips to the cinema and he'd had to take packed lunches to work. Of course after his first promotion it had eased up a bit, but he could not help but feel a certain level of resentment that they had not lived the life he had wanted from the start. Now after all of their struggles she was going behind his back to talk to the boy. He was not going to stand for it!
Twisting the glass, and watching the fluid, swirl, he squashed the desire to pick it up and throw it at the wall. It had been such a wretched worrying day, then when he had been home less than five minutes that blasted letter had landed on the doormat. Desperate to know who was writing to his wife, he had ripped it open, to find that it was from the boy. Another sip went dribbling down his throat. He had opened the bottle the moment he had learnt of her deception. It was the bottle that had been given to them by her Father as a wedding present. The note that had accompanied it wished them a long and happy marriage with instructions to open it on their fiftieth anniversary. Long and happy, pah! Long certainly. How he had put up with the old sow was beyond him.
A car pulled up in the drive, but he could not be bothered getting up, the door opened and in she walked juggling two bags of groceries.
"Oh Vernon…you….are home early," she murmured. He grunted in reply. "Would you be a dear, there are another couple of bags in the car." She dared to smile.
"No!" he snapped, throwing back the last of his drink. After his response she did not dare ask him how his day has gone.
"Oh, ok then," she placed the bags on the table and returned for the rest. Making quick work of unpacking them, all the time nattering on about the neighbourhood gossip.
"What've you done all day?" he grunted finally sick of her voice.
She paused, and looked at him for a moment, "Well this morning I did the dishes and hoovered. Then I went and had a coffee with Yvonne, she wanted to show me her pictures from their latest holiday. It did look lovely. Maybe we could go one time?" her voice gave a lilt at the end. Again, he grunted.
"After that I did the shopping, and well here I am," she shrugs. Her attempt to lighten the mood falls down like lead. Summoning up her courage she dares to ask, "Is there something wrong dear?"
"Is there something wrong?" he repeats back in seeming disbelief. "Yes, there is something wrong. I slave away at work all day and when I get home, I find that you have spent all my money on frivolous things!"
There was threat in his tone that made her shiver, "It's was just one coffee and this weeks groceries."
"Just the food! Ha! I know better. I know all about your meetings with that lecher from up the corner."
"Meetings with Mr Mahoney? Why would I…"
"See you even know his name. I've seen the way that you look at him, in his flash new car as he hoons off down the street."
"He is nearly sixty and married Vernon! Half his hair is grey."
"I've heard that makes a man distinguished," he huffed. "Besides that's only a few years older than me."
"I'm not looking for anyone else, I have enough right here?" she smiled at her husbanded reassuringly.
"You're lying!" he accused.
"I wouldn't lie to you Vernon!"
He stared at her a moment, before pulling out the crumpled letter he had stuffed in his pocket. "Explain this then," he said slapping it down on the table.
The clop, clop of horse's hooves echoed down the hall, but not one student turned or acted as if anything was strange. But Delores knew, she knew that they were all looking at her the moment her back was turned. Their beady eyes tracked her wherever she went. Their whispers followed her around the school. To make it all worse she still had not managed to sleep. Food no longer tasted the same, and the only thing that allowed her to function was the massive quantities of caffeine (in the form of endless cups of tea) and sugar that she was consuming. Fortunately, the Elves had left a plate containing some multicoloured sweets on her desk, between classes. The students would never know if she just had just the one.
"What on earth is wrong with Umbridge," Harry whispered to Ron as Neville joined them. The trio had safely made it to the common room, detention free. "I mean, she's normally bad, but that was ridiculous!"
Delores Umbridge had been in a foul mood. She had been stalking through the hallways all afternoon, issuing detentions to all and sundry for walking to loudly and having shoes that squeaked. Students were running at the sight of the woman and a poor Hufflepuff first year had been injured in the stampede.
"Yeah, she's completely nuts," Ron tilted his head observing his twin brothers laughing. "I wonder if she had help getting there?"
The other two boys followed his line of gaze.
"Oi, what are you lot lookin' at?" Fred called across the crowded room noticing the trio of stares.
The three shared a look before getting to their feet and moving over to join the pair.
"You guys wouldn't know anything about the state of our Defence teacher, would you?" Neville asked bluntly.
"Depends who's asking," George said glancing away. Hermione was sitting not far away, looking for all the world as if she was not listening, but the lack of page turning gave her away.
"Muffliato," Harry whispered. "Now, that no one else can hear. Are you or are you not responsible for the bad mood that Umbridge has been in?"
"Weelllll, when you put it that way."
"Yes," George finished for his brother.
"What did you do?"
"We started with biting bourbons, then we moved on to no-nap nougat and last but not least hallucinogenic humbugs." Fred grinned.
"The first two are self-explanatory but the last…?"
"They are designed to make a witch or wizard hallucinate. They are related to our daydream products but in this case they specifically make her believe that she is a centaur."
"For example, any time she looks in the mirror she will see her head on a centaur body, she'll hear hoofbeats and she'll feel like she is walking on four legs," Fred shrugged.
"We thought they could be good for those persons wanting to see what it felt like to be a given animal but were to afraid to try the anima products."
"Which still need a little bit of work, though I must say if you have seen Lee today, he does look particularly fetching with his new ears and tail."
"Wicked!" Ron breathed in admiration.
"No, not wicked Ron! People are getting detentions all over the place and I just had to take Elsie Hall to the Hospital Wing with crush injuries," Neville hissed.
"It's alright Neville, we've put the last one into play," Fred reassured.
"Then it should settle things right down," said George.
"And what is that?" Harry asked curiously.
"It's the what would normally be the antidote for no-nap nougat we call them sleeping smarties."
"They will put her to sleep?" Ron frowned, thinking it sounded a bit lame, surely, they could just leave her alone and that would happen eventually.
He was met with a pair of crocodile like grins, who knew the twins looked after their teeth so well?!
"Normally yes but for Umbridge nothing so nice."
"We were going to put it in nougat and call it narcolepsy nougat, but we already used that, and we don't want her getting suspicious."
George held out a hand full of brightly coloured sweets.
"These are a muggle treat called smarties. They're basically chocolate that is coated in a hard-sweet shell and are the perfect receptacle for the little powder we created. Once it gets absorbed, she will fall asleep, but only for thirty seconds at a time. So, if she eats one she will fall asleep for half a minute, two and she'll sleep for a minute, four two minutes, and so on."
"What if she eats a handful?" Ron asked eyeing the sweets.
"Then it depends how big her hand is," they grinned.
"Best thing is because they need to be dissolved, she'll never know when it is going to happen."
"Well we can all look forward to that, hopefully it is right up the top of one of the flights of stairs," Ron said viciously.
"Um," Harry started. "I don't think…"
"Harry," Ron said exasperatedly. "You know if it had just been the fall, Madame Pomfrey would have fixed Percival by now. A tumble down the stairs will hardly hurt her."
"Speaking of which," Neville interrupted. "I think I might have heard Madame Pomfrey saying he was awake."
"What! You didn't think to tell me before now!"
"Sorry Harry," Neville started to apologise but, Harry was gone, taking the stairs to the dormitories two at a time. They did not see him come back down.
"Homework then?" Neville asked Ron.
"Fine! Homework," Ron groaned. "But in half an hour we're stopping for a game of chess."
Harry pushed open the door to the infirmary, not a second later Madame Pomfrey merged from her office.
"Oh, Harry dear. I was wondering when you would hear. Just wait by the bed, Percival wanted to get clean, he'll be out from the shower any minute."
Pulling out a seat, Harry slid into it to wait.
"Don't you have homework to do?" a voice broke through his thoughts. Green eyes lifted and if the boy-man that approached had not looked so deathly tired Harry would have thrown himself at his friend. Instead he stood and moved to grab Percival's arm.
"Here, you sit. And I'll have you know that I am nearly up to date, in all my work!" he said indignantly, before breaking into a laugh. He reached down and grabbed the notes from his bag. "Here," he placed the pile on a nearby table, these are the notes from all the classes you've missed. The Arithmancy and Ancient Runes notes are from Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. I thought I'd manage to get my History essay written before Pomfrey kicked me out."
Harry adjusted the table in front of Percival so that they could both get their work done, while Harry caught Percival up everything happened including Remus' survival.
"….and Sirius said that there's a Wizengamot meeting on Wednesday and he has added it to the agenda," Harry finished. Then he paused and set the parchment in front of him to dry.
"Seraphina was here today," Percival said quietly. "She told me the same, she is intending to go and watch."
There was a faint buzz, and it took a moment for the pair to realise that Harry's mirror was vibrating in his bag.
"Sirius!"
"Hey Kiddo." Harry grinned and settled himself into a hastily drawn up chair so that Percival could see into the mirror as well. "Percival, it's good to be seeing you looking so well. I won't tell you how worried our Harry has been." He grinned as Harry blushed and ducked his head. Percival just reached over and gave his thigh a squeeze.
They filled Sirius in on the goings on in the school. Sirius starred at Harry a contemplative expression on his face.
"In my day," he paused a look of horror on his face. "Oh dear Merlin! I sound like Papa P!"
"Papa P?" Harry asked with a grin.
"It's what I used to call your Grandfather."
"Sounds about right then old man," Harry smirked.
"Anyway," Sirius huffed. "The marauders would never have let such behaviour stand unopposed."
"Who said it had been unopposed?" Harry replied with a smirk, going onto reveal the retribution implemented by the twins.
"Well if you need any more ideas…"
"Please don't encourage him!" Percival scolded. "You're supposed to be the adult."
Sirius did not even have the decency to look to look ashamed.
Eventually Madame Pomfrey emerged from her office, scolded Harry for keeping Percival up and shooed him from her Infirmary. Just outside the doors, he covered himself in his Cloak, pulled out the Marauders Map and made his way back to the common room. The room was quiet, only a few seventh years remained, gathered around the dying fire studying diligently. Harry passed by un-noticed on his way to his dorm.
"Der Glumph, went the little brown toad one day."
"Der Glumph, went the little brown toad."
"Der Glumph, went the little brown toad one day."
"And the toad went Glumph, Glumph, Glumph."
There was a pause as she moved between floors, unfortunately there were still suits of armour lining the halls on this level.
"But….we….." the armour raised their arms into the surrender position and vibrated their hands.
"All know toads go."
"Lah, de, da, de, da." Their arms were shaken from side to side.
Silver hands were bought together in a loud smash.
"Lah, de, da, de, da."
Clap
"Lah, de, da, de, da."
Crash
"We all know toads go."
"Lah, de, da, de, da."
"They don't go Glumph, Glumph, Glumph."
The sound of hooves on stone echoed off the walls all around her a counterpoint to the happy song. Finally, she made it to her classroom, slamming the door behind her she shut out the noise.
"Hem, hem," she made her way to her desk. It had to be that Potter boy. He had not been in the Great Hall when she had been there, but she just knew it was him. Luckily, he was in her first class, so it would be easy enough to give him a detention. She ignored her swishing tail as she spelled todays chapter onto the board and sat at her desk waiting for the class to file in (her chair was rotated sideways in order for her rump to fit. Ten minutes later the bell signalling the start of lessons rang and the students filed in.
The class was somewhat surprised to see Madame dozing in her chair, chin on chest when they opened the door. Perhaps a minute after they were all in their places, her head jerked up, and she gazed around the room, appearing startled to see them.
"Good Morning students."
"Good Morning Professor Umbridge," they all parroted.
"Wands away, open…." Her head dipped down. "Gngh…gnhg….."
"Um. Is she snoring?" Fay whispered incredulously as they all hurriedly withdrew their books. The smarter ones amongst them had long since learnt the charms to make their books look like the Defence text.
"Snft…" Umbridge's head jerked, and her eyes popped open. The students were all sitting quietly with their eyes focused on their open text books.
Five minutes went by under her beady eyed gaze before it happened again. If they had been watching her they would have seen their professor yawn, then blink slowly, before her head fell forwards once more.
"Gngh…gngh…"
Lavender turned around in her seat to face Fay and said seriously though still quietly, "Yes."
"I rather think she needs to have someone look at her adenoids," Hermione said primly. "That can't be…"
"Snft…. No Talking!" Umbridge snapped. "Detention Miss Granger!"
"What for?" Hermione asked indignantly. "I was just…"
"For disrupting the class. Now I suggest that you resume reading," Umbridge sneered.
It was a full ten minutes before the toad like face drooped again, this time the class knew to stay as quiet as possible. When the bell went signalling the end of class Umbridge had not woken and the students stole from the room on silent feet.
"Now that we have dealt with all outstanding items on our agenda. I open the floor to any member wishing to bring items forward," the Chief Warlock stated.
A quick glance showed several hands in the air, "Lord Fawley, has the floor." The Lord in question stood as the rest of the hands were lowered.
"I wish to request an enquiry be started into the placement of the High Inquisitor at Hogwarts," his clear voice rang through the chamber.
"What are your reasons, Lord Fawley?"
"The High Inquisitor, as seen in the Daily Prophet appears to be behaving erratically and she has inflicted questionable punishments on the children."
"You can't believe everything you read in the Prophet," Dumbledore said with a chuckle from the visitor's gallery.
"Now that you are not a member of this body any longer Dumbledore, you opening matters little. However I refer not to that farce of a paper but to the word of my Heir."
"Minister Fudge, has a response he takes the floor."
"The High Inquisitor has my every confidence," was all he said before he sat down.
Lord Fawley starred, "So," he pulled out a piece of parchment, with its broken seal still visible. "Eating flies and jumping on tables, is acceptable behaviour? Or perhaps the issuing of detentions for breathing, looking at her wrong and answering her questions correctly?"
The Minister stood again, "To the first, one of the students has clearly pranked her, probably Potter, and to the second…"
"I object!" Sirius was on his feet. "What evidence do you have that Harry has done any such thing?"
Fudge snorted, "He's just like his father, of course he did it!" he said as if it explained anything.
"How would you know?" Sirius asked. "For your information he is not like either his Mother or his Father, which is unsurprising really when you consider that he was raised by neither. I insist that you retract your comment, or provide evidence, Minister Fudge."
"Fine!" Fudge pushed his glasses back up his face. "Clearly, any student could have performed such a prank. To the second, the position is a stressful one and Delores is bound to be a little short tempered at times." He gave what he thought was a pleasant smile and sat once more.
"I apologise for the interruption," Sirius bowed to Lord Fawley.
Lord Fawley nodded his acceptance of the apology.
"Has the statement from the Minister answered your claim?" the Chief Warlock asked.
"No. That the woman is clearly disturbed is but one aspect, the other more serious matter I wish to present is her use of a Black Quill in detentions."
There were several gasps from the surrounding seats.
"Oh, come on now!" the Minister stood in protest. "I am sure this is an exaggeration. Delores has my permission to use whatever method of punishment she deems necessary, within reason. She will be most unhappy with these fabricated accusations, and I believe you will be hearing from her Law Wizard." He grinned as if he had won the argument, but Lord Fawley was unmoved.
"Excellent, I will advise Samuel MacMillan to add your name to the suit. The last matter I bring before the Wizengamot is the notification of a class action against one Delores Umbridge as High Inquisitor, and Cornelius Fudge as Minister of Magic. They will be facing charges of the possession of a class A prohibited item and its use on more than a dozen witches and wizards many of whom are under age and including the Heirs of six Ancient and Noble houses. Or in the case of the Minister being an accessory to these crimes. We ask that they be remanded for trial within the next fourteen days and that the High Inquisitor be removed from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry immediately so that the investigations can commence. I refer the investigation to the DMLE."
"I object!" called an elderly voice into the stunned silence of the room.
The Chief Warlock, pinched his nose, "As has already been pointed out Mr Dumbledore, you are no longer a member of this august body and have no right to protest the motion."
The still blustering man reluctantly resumed sitting reluctantly.
With a 'Hem' Cornelius Fudge cleared his throat and stood, sombrely surveying his peers, once he was acknowledged by a nod from the Chief Warlock he began, "It saddens me that some of you would fall for the words of a disturbed child."
"And which disturbed child is that?" Lord Fawley asked.
"Why Harry Potter of course. Just because he is famous, does not mean that he is infallible. We should view these stories not with the rose-coloured spectacles of hero worship but with an eye for the truth."
"Those are very pretty words Minister; however, I remind you that I am presenting these charges because my Heir has been affected, and I am sure you are not so crass as to imply that Eustace is lying?"
"One case is not enough for trial," Fudge scoffed. "I'll have her make an apology to the boy, meanwhile have you asked Eustace what he did to deserve his detention? I recall he was always a little rascal," Fudge chuckled, there were some echoed titters from those watching.
Lord Fawley was slowly turning crimson in anger, and took a moment to calm himself, "This is no laughing matter Fudge. The Heirs affected were Fawley, Brown, MacDougall, Lovegood, Zabini and Potter-Black. Other children who have been affected are Lavender Brown, both Patil twins, both Creevey brothers and both Greengrass sisters. There are more," he waved the piece of parchment he had been holding.
The names created a susurrus that spread around the room like fire in dry grass.
There was the bang of a gavel, creating silence once more, "It is agreed that the matter should be investigated. I nominate Amelia Bones to head the investigation. A court date will be posted at the earliest time convenient. You mentioned some of the students being of age?"
"Yes, Heirs Fawley, Brown and MacDougall. I am not sure of the other students."
"Would you agree to the Heirs giving testimony under Veritaserum?"
"Are you doubting the word of my Heir?"
The Chief Warlock shook his head, "No. I am trying to prevent contention. While you can claim that your Heir speaks the truth as no doubt will Lords Brown, MacDougall and the others, so will Minister Fudge. Thus, any trial will reach an impasse. If the of-age Heirs are willing to take Veritaserum we might reach the bottom of this matter. Notification of charges is to be provided to the accused no later than close of business today with the trial date," he flicked through a book that rested on the lecture, "a fortnight from today. The Lords involved are to provide their written approval for the use of Veritaserum at the trial. All in favour?" he paused to count the lit wands. "Carried."
"A wise ruling Chief Warlock," a warm and feminine voice praised the man. "I also have an issue to raise with regards to the school."
"Madame Picquery?" He acknowledged the elegant women. She was wearing somewhat subdued, though still elegant, robes of navy, a stark contrast to the purple robes of the Wizengamot members.
"She's not a member!" protested Fudge from his seat in the front row.
"No, but while we reside in this country my Godson attends that school and he has been attacked. As he is not a British citizen the matter cannot be resolved by the Board of Governors and I must raise it here."
"Percival was attacked?"
"Indeed, and the Headmaster failed to notify me of his injuries or the results of any investigation that took place. A fact which is concerning in the light of the fact that it took, my consulting with an external expert to identify the curse he had been afflicted with and to find its cure."
"All is well then," Fudge huffed.
"All is not well," Seraphina Picquery stared contemptuously at the man, causing him to shrink back into his chair. "He was attacked, while your High Inquisitor was in charge. Process was not followed, I was not advised. And as far as I am aware no investigation has occurred."
"But you said you called in…"
"I was not advised by the Headmaster," she clarified, not the least bit thrown by his interruptions. "Indeed he prevented the Matron from advising me. It was only through communications with Lord Black that I was advised."
Dumbledore scowled at Sirius, if a look could impart physical damage the black-haired man surely would have burnt to a crisp. He desperately needed to get that boy back under control. Hopefully the curse would have adversely affected Mr Graves' personality, which would fracture the growing relationship, allowing his protégé to ingratiate herself back into their group. He returned his attention to the conversation and nearly had a fit.
"Interestingly the curse is known to be a Grindlewald Family spell. I wish to know who cast it and how they came by it, for surely the details of such a spell are not readily available in the Hogwarts Library?" She raised an elegant brow.
"Headmaster, do you have a comment?" the Chief Warlock asked.
"No. I could not say how it came about," he remained seated, his arms across his chest.
"And why was Madame Picquery not advised of the incident? Did an investigation occur?"
"Simply because there was nothing to advise. There were no witnesses so the investigation led nowhere and the boy was well, though asleep. Physically he had been healed, I had every confidence that Madam Pomfrey would find a solution, as he has now awoken, I was correct."
"Be that as it may Dumbledore as soon as he was injured, I should have been notified. It is clearly written in the Hogwarts charter that all parents or guardians will be advised should the child in their care be injured in any way. I also know that this is not the first time you have failed to do so. In fact, I believe that several students were injured three years ago, and not one of their parents were notified."
"They were all Muggleborn students!" Dumbledore protested. "And they were merely petrified."
"What has that to do with it? They were children! You have a duty of care to advise their parents. The youngest missed nearly six months of their first year of school and the oldest missed two months of their sixth year. Not that it makes any difference but she was a half-blood whose parents are both magical. Their parents should have been advised and guidance provided so that the students could catch up on the missed work at the very least. Not to mention receiving treatment for the trauma."
"For the Muggleborn students their Heads of House are their guardians," Dumbledore explained as if talking to a particularly slow student. "And none of them appear traumatised in the least."
"Only for immediate medical decisions that cannot wait for the message to be carried to their parents. The charter is still clear that their parents must be advised. And are you telling me that after being attacked by a six foot high snake, none of those students have residual nightmares?! Because I can tell you with absolute certainty that for three of the students involved that is not true."
Dumbledore just turned up his nose. How dare that stupid witch, question his decisions, as if she would know. Clearly he also had to do something about the boy talking, it would not do for anyone else to know about the Basilisk carcass. He had plans for the money that would bring in, he just needed to get Harry back under control so he would open the blasted door. Albus had tried opening it with the few words he could replicate in parseltongue, but none of them had worked, it was very vexing. If he did not know better he would have said that someone else had laid additional wards on the entryway.
"I can see we are getting nowhere," the Chief Warlock said. "I suggest we refer the matter to the Board of Governors for investigation. All in favour?" he knocked the gavel. "Carried by simple majority. Any other matters?" he paused to look around the stands. "So ends today's session. May magic bless us all." He struck the gavel against the top of the lectern one last time.
"Did you hear?" Alicia Spinnet, fell into the seat beside Harry.
"Hear what?" Harry asked before shovelling a fork full of roast pumpkin into his mouth, barely paying attention. Now that Percival had recovered his appetite had suddenly returned. He suspected that this was how his body would always react to stress after all the years at Privet Drive. Percival bumped him with his shoulder and gave him a slight frown, causing Harry to stop and blush as he realised what he was doing. He had one arm wrapped around the plate he was bending over as if protecting his food. "Sorry," he whispered in mortification, sliding his arm to his side and straightening up.
Percival reached out and squeezed his forearm, whispering "Don't be. Just thought you would not want anyone else to notice."
"My brother is friends with Eustace Fawley. As Heir Fawley Eustace went to the Wizengamot today and…" she leaned closer. "We get rid of the Umbitch tonight." She sat back grinning.
"You can't call her that!" Hermione gasped in horror from the other side of the table. "She's still a teacher."
"Really?" Alicia turned a piercing gaze on the curly haired girl. "What exactly have you learnt in her class?" She paused briefly, but Hermione was biting her lip unable to say anything. "Exactly."
"They really did it?!" Harry murmured.
Alicia grinned, "Yep."
There was a commotion at the doors and Kingsley Shacklebolt entered the room, preceding Amelia Bones and Gawain Robards. They made their way to the teachers table, where Delores Umbridge was once again napping.
"Delores Jane Umbridge, in accordance with the wishes of the Wizengamot and in preparation for your trial. You are to leave Hogwarts directly. You may not return to your rooms. You may not collect any item before leaving. The House Elves will pack your belongings after the investigative process has occurred."
"Snft…Wha?" Delores blinked slowly.
"Auror Shacklebolt will see you to the gates."
"What?" Delores snapped. "I am High Inquisitor, why would I be going to the gates."
Madame Bones looked supremely unimpressed, "As I have just said you are to leave so that an investigation into your actions and behaviour may occur. Your belongings will follow, if you provide Auror Shacklebolt with your address."
"I demand you call the Minister. He has sanctioned all of my actions."
"Don't worry, Delores, he is being investigated as well," Bones smirked at the woman and indicated for the large Auror to assist the woman from the room.
She made it midway up the tables before she fell asleep mid-rant, swaying on her feet. Luckily, Kingsley Shacklebolt, cast a spell to cushion her fall as she fell face first onto the ground.
"Just levitate her to Three Broomsticks," Amelia stated before turning back to the gathered teachers. "Now if someone can lead me to her rooms?"
"I'm sure that won't be necessary," Dumbledore began to rise from his seat, but was cut off my Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout all volunteering.
In the end Filius Flitwick lead the Head of the DMLE away. She looked back over her shoulder as she turned to follow the diminutive man, "Don't think I have forgotten you Dumbledore."
The only ones not smiling at the departure of the hated Professor were a select group of Slytherins.
"Who do you think they will get to teach Defence now?" Harry asked.
There were many shrugged shoulders and thoughtful hums from the group surrounding him.
"It can't be Remus, because he is dead," Hermione mused.
"What?!" Neville squeaked. "What happened?"
Harry went to speak but Percival stepped heavily on his foot. They could tell Neville and Ron in their dorm later where they would not be over heard by Hermione. In any case it might be best to keep the knowledge of Remus' survival from the Headmaster, if he was still unaware. At least until Remus was fully healed. Madame Pomfrey was bound to mention it at some point, however there had been enough incidents going on that it had been pushed to the background for now.
Hermione sighed sadly. "Professor Dumbledore told me himself. He was out in the countryside and got mistaken for a thief and was beaten to death."
Harry attempted to look stricken, but from the curious look he received from Ron, did not quite succeed. "Later," he mouthed silently.
"Perhaps Seraphina Picquery then? I heard she worked closely with the Aurors before she was President," Alicia suggested, looking at Percival.
"She has rather a lot of commitments already, I can't see her managing to have enough time. Maybe they will just fill it from the teachers, there is not that much of the year left," Percival said.
"Wha' abou' Sirius?" Ron said around his mouthful of baked potato.
Harry shrugged, "Maybe. Are we sure that we want to have him and Snape as our teachers though?"
"It has to be better than Lockhart," Neville replied.
"Anyone is better than Lockhart," Ron snorted, ignoring Hermione as she went to speak.
"Perhaps they could borrow one of the Aurors? Maybe Shacklebolt?" Percival said thoughtfully.
"That would make a lot of sense," Ron nodded. "Though they are needed as Aurors at the moment."
Despite their musings the students could not come up with a better plan, and in the end decided that there was no point thinking about it as it would not affect the outcome.
The fifth years boys were lounging on their beds. Harry and Percival had caught Ron and Neville up on what had actually happened to Remus, a muffliato around them, before they all settled in to do their homework. Seamus and Dean had their heads bent together over their History of Magic essays, while Ron was moaning about his Dream Diary for Divination. With a groan he hauled himself to his feet.
"I'm going to have to ask Lavender and Parvati, about this one. I don't think I've done it right," he grimaced.
"Go on," Harry waved him away, looking up from his Runes work sheet. "We're only doing homework, and the girls are the best ones to help you with that."
"I won't be back until late, as I'll go do rounds after."
"Who are you doing rounds with?"
"Padma."
"Well that's good," Harry nodded, eyes back on his parchment.
"Yeah, she's great. It also means I'm not stuck with Malfoy or Parkinson," he grinned. "Right see you later."
"There's been something I've been wondering," Neville said, looking at Harry.
"What's that Nev?"
"That song this morning, the one that the suits of armour were singing. What was that?"
"Just a muggle kids song Nev."
"The best bit was the hand actions," Seamus laughed.
"I wonder who did it?" Neville mused.
"Mmmm," Harry hummed.
"Nothing to say Mr Potter?" Dean reached over and hit his friend in the arm.
"What could I possibly say?" Harry gave a nonchalant shrug that had Percival reaching out to press on his shoulder as usual.
"How did ya pull it off?" Seamus asked eagerly.
"There may have been a Ravenclaws influence and I might have also had a little help from the Marauders," Harry said with a sly smile.
"Marauders?!" a pair of voices sounded at the door, a second before it burst open.
"Oi! Fellas, knock next time would ya?" Dean protested, having just removed his shirt to get changed into his pyjamas, when the door had swung open. There were a pair of fourth year girls in stairwell outside who could now be heard giggling as they continued on their way.
"Sorry mate," Fred said as George closed the door.
"But we thought we.."
"Heard you say Marauders…"
They looked at Harry expectantly.
"I might have," Harry responded with a smirk.
They stalked over, pushed Percival aside and each wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders.
"I know that you have heard of the Marauders before," Harry said with a smile.
"They are.."
"Our heroes.."
"They shouldn't be, not really," Harry said solemnly. "For the most part they were bullies."
The twins frowned, "What do you mean?"
"A lot of their pranks were humiliating and targeted one very small percentage of the Hogwarts population over and over. That's not to say that their victims didn't return the treatment. It was not until they reached their sixth and seventh years that they started growing up. Some of the pranks after that are quite ingenious."
Blue eyes examined Harry, as the pair dropped their arms and began to circle the small boy like a pair of hungry sharks.
"And How.."
"Do.."
"You…"
"Know?" they finished together.
"Ah, that would be because of this," Harry reached under his pillow and pulled out a worn and dogeared book. The handwritten title across the front read- The Marauders Guide to Everything.
It seemed as if someone had spelled the Twins because they suddenly froze in place, before with a noisy inhalation, Fred placed a hand over his heart and George placed his on his forehead, "How do you come by this…this…."
"Fred help me out here, I don't know what to call it!"
"Jewel? Treasure? Trove of untold riches more valuable than gold?"
"Um, it was in a trunk with my Mum and Dad's things."
"Could it be?" the twins began circling Harry again, while the other boys just watched on.
"That what we have here.."
"In this small, unassuming…"
"Practically plain in every way…"
"Being, who hardly holds a candle to the magnificence of us…." they puffed out their chests and cockily ran a hand through their hair.
"Is a descendent of the mighty Marauders?" they stopped facing Harry with their heads tipped to the side.
"Ahhhh, yes?" Harry said meekly.
"Why didn't you tell us?!" Fred moaned.
"Guys," Harry said plaintively.
"What did we do, to be left out like this?!" George whined.
"Guys, no."
"Have we offended you?!"
"Just, guys, shut it!" Harry pleaded. "I only found it the other day. Okay?!"
He was met with a pair of grins that would do a Cheshire Cat proud, George spoke first. "Oh, I am sure we can forgive you."
"As long as we can have a peek in that book," Fred said with a hopeful lilt at the end of his sentence.
"Ah, it's just that it's my Dad's, I don't have anything else of his apart from what was in that trunk." There was no way he was mentioning the Cloak and the Map was from all the Marauders so he did not feel that it counted.
"Maybe," George tapped his chin. "Maybe we could just,"
"Have a little read of it?" Fred finished.
"When I am done. And you can't use any of the ideas for products, until you clear it with the other Marauders," he said firmly.
"Other Marauders?" Fred asked with wide eyes.
"But of course.."
"If your Father was a Marauder…"
"Then the others are…."
"Excuse us…" they raced to to the door, "We have letters to write!" and slammed it shut behind them.
Gawain Robards cringed as he opened the door, and performed a quick scan. To be quite honest he found the decorative cats plates that surrounded the room to be more than a little disturbing.
"Classroom is clear Ma'am," he reported as Amelia Bones entered the room. "This room shows something concealed in that corner."
He pointed to the area that his detection spell had indicated, it appeared to be empty.
"Finite." It was Madame Bones who cast the spell to reveal an unassuming metal trunk no more than one foot wide and one and a half feet long. Lacking any frills or decoration it looked decidedly out of place in the room.
Both Aurors released a flurry of spells on the small box, revealing nothing but a minor locking charm, which only took a second to counter allowing the lid to spring open.
"Blessed Mother of Merlin!" Robards hissed. His supervisor, slapped the back of his head. "Sorry Ma'am."
"I can't say the I disagree," Bones muttered.
They could easily see four Black Quills lying on top of a sheaf of parchment tied with a coarse brown thread that they could just see, winding its way through the shafts of the quills. Clearly that was not all the box contained.
"Gloves?" he asked pulling a pair of Dragon hide gloves from the pocket of his robes.
"I believe that would be wise," Bones replied, withdrawing a similar pair.
"Why was she keeping the lines?"
"She wasn't. She was keeping their blood," Bones stated flatly, as she flicked through the pile. "There is way more than a dozen different student's hand writing here."
"So the question is, were they too afraid to say anything or did she Obliviate them?" Robards mused.
"We won't find out without asking and possibly medical examinations. I'll get McGonagall to arrange interviews. We'll need a secrecy spell on the room so that they can't talk about it afterwards as well. All the parents will need to be asked to grant permission and these," she raised the bundle of parchment, "will need to be kept in a secure location until the trial. It's a logistical nightmare."
"I thought the wards at Hogwarts were the strongest anywhere, how could this have happened?"
"I guess that is a question we will have to ask the illustrious Headmaster," she groaned, not looking forward to that conversation. "In the meantime, we need to bag and preserve this. Then we need to go an arrange about three hundred and forty interview to be completed within two weeks."
"Should we check her rooms as well?" Robards asked. He had not received a look like the one Amelia sent him since he was a rookie. "That would be a yes then." He moved to open the next door in the string of rooms.
"Nothing here, just a minor sleeping potion in some sweets by her bed."
"Yeah well, there is more in this trunk," Amelia called back. She was carefully spelling the lid shut, locking it with an impressive number of complex spells.
"What was it boss?"
"Best if no-one knows until the trial," Amelia Bones said firmly. "We should go and find the Headmaster."
"Amelia Bones and Gawain Robards, to see Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall," she told the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the Headmasters office. It jumped aside as spritely as a thing of stone could. "Thank you." Amelia nodded to it as she went past.
"Your welcome." The gargoyle's unexpected reply made Robards stumble on the first stair, if he had looked back he would have seen it grin.
"Ah Amelia, my girl and Gawain, come in. So nice to see you," Albus Dumbledore greeted them as the entered his office. "Now when can I expect to have my Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher back?"
"In about fifteen to twenty years, if she's still sane after being released from Azkaban," Amelia said drily.
"Oh come now my Dear, I'm sure it isn't that bad. Surely if she just pays a fine of some kind, this all can be resolved?" his eyes twinkled merrily.
Amelia Bones was not amused. Ignoring Dumbledore for the moment she turned to his Deputy. "Minerva I will need to you to send a letter requesting permission for every child at this school to be interviewed by the DMLE and examined by a Healer with qualifications in Mind Magics."
"But…..why?"
"Because it is clear that significantly more students have had detentions with her than have come forward, and with the evidence we now have, this matter is much more severe than we first expected."
"More severe than torturing the students with a Black Quill?!"
"Much." It was evident that Madame Bones was not going to elucidate. "But returning to that," she paused to look at Dumbledore with steel in her gaze, "allegedly Hogwarts has the most comprehensive set of wards of any building anywhere. How were these items bought onto the grounds? For that matter, how was a seventy foot long snake able to roam freely for an entire year without being discovered, at the very least by the portraits. I have visited the locations were the students were found and each and everyone of them has at least one portrait in the corridor."
"I am sure I don't know what you mean Amelia," Dumbledore said in a quiet voice that sounded like a warning.
Amelia Bones chose to ignore it, "I am here in my capacity as the Head of the DMLE, Dumbledore, you do not have leave to call me by my given name. I mean that you are complicit in both this crime and allowing the incidents of three years ago to occur unhindered. Not to mention that you were well aware that Sirius Black was innocent and did nothing to help free him. Furthermore I believe four years ago there were some events that require further investigation."
"I do not know what you mean Amelia," Dumbledore said more strongly.
"Don't give me that Dumbledore. Seraphina Picquery and I are in close communications. Not to mention my niece attends this damnable school. I had heard one side of the stories before. Through out this year I have been given more information. I wonder just how deep I'll find the rot when I start to investigate," she looked at him shrewdly. Noting his hand on his wand, she cast a silent and wandless shield. "I warn you that I am here in an official capacity Dumbledore to curse me now, is a crime in itself."
McGonagall had been standing to one side watching, but at this she glanced sharply at the Headmaster, before speaking to Madame Bones, "I have a form letter that I can send out to all of the parents, with the Heads of House contacting the non-magical parents directly."
"I would appreciate that. Please contact me as soon as you have the first approval. A team of curse breakers will be here on the weekend to examine the wards."
Through out the conversation Gawain Robards had stayed at the back of the room by the door. Now he held it open for his superior, but remained facing the room, until she had passed through it, then he stepped out behind her.
"I appreciate you having my back," she thanked him.
"How could I not?" he shrugged. "I can't believe he went to curse you. Do you know what it was?"
"I didn't hear an incantation, however the tip of his wand was green," she said tersely as they made their way out of the castle.
It had not been Petunia Dursley's week. After discovering Harry's letter Vernon had not let up. In the end he had lit the letter on fire and thrown it at her when it became to hot for him to hold any longer. Fortunately she had been able to move out of the way and had stomped on it to extinguish the flames before any damage was incurred, apart from a slight scorch mark on the kitchen lino. If that had been the end of it she might been ok but it wasn't. He had left for work early the next day and so she had quickly penned a note to Harry to let him know that she had not been able to read his letter. While she was out at the post office Vernon had called the house. Apparently he'd had his interview that day and the auditors had not been completely happy with all of the answers he had provided. At this stage he was not being fired, however he was being warned and placed on probation. This had only added to his bad mood.
When he arrived home, she had quietly fetched a glass of scotch for him as ordered, before he ranted about her being out again for a second day in a row. Then he ordered her to fetch him another drink, He was not happy when she questioned if he did needed straight away as it was only five o'clock and she wanted to put the dinner on. Vernon had yelled and blustered and thrown the glass at her. Screaming and yelling when she failed to catch it and it smashed on the floor. Ordering her to clean it up, he headed out to the pub.
The next morning Vernon seemed more calm, though she did not even try to get him to eat the doctor approved diet he was supposed to be following. The good mood did not last till evening. It seemed that the investigators had found more files that they wanted to question Vernon about. And he would have to have a second interview.
"I've already answered their blasted questions," he huffed, as he sipped his drink.
"Yes dear," Petunia responded meekly.
"It's not like I've done something wrong," he continued.
"No dear."
"Anyway, where's my dinner?" he barked.
"It will be ready in half an hour dear. Would you like another drink?"
"Next time, I want it on the table the moment I get home," he demanded.
"You'll need to let me know when you are leaving the office then," Petunia said calmly.
"I need to what? You think you have the right to monitor my movements?!" he growled.
"N..n..no dear. It's just that otherwise I won't know when you are going to get home. Somedays you are later than others."
"What use are you then?" he threw back his drink, it partially spilled out the sides of his mouth and down his neck. He wiped it away roughly then reached out and grabbed Petunias arm as she lent forward to take his glass. "Get me another. And enough with your sass!" he growled.
Petunia turned to walk over to the drinks cabinet.
Smack.
His hand hit her bottom, hard.
"Ow! Vernon! That hurt."
"It huuurtt," he mocked. "I'll tell you what'll hurt." He pushed his bulk upwards and swayed slightly on his feet. Suddenly she realised that she was penned in. There was only one door to the room and Vernon Dursley stood between her and it.
"What are you doing Vernon?" her voice quavered.
"Oooooh, what are ya doin' Ver'on?" he imitated in a high-pitched slur. "I'm teachin' you to listen ta' me. To do wha' yer tole."
He reached out with his fat fist, but she ducked and ran. She was fast but for a large man Vernon moved surprisingly quickly, and he managed to get a grip onto the back of her blouse. Tearing it as he pulled her backwards.
"Sssstop," she cried.
But there was no pause or respite, he merely drew his other arm back implacably and threw it towards her face. Hitting it with a solid crack. Causing her to squeal, as her legs gave way.
"Ha, you squeal like a stuck pig!" he laughed and stumbled away from her.
She stayed curled in a ball on the floor as she listened to him making his way out of the house. Eventually her tears stopped and she managed to pull herself to her feet. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought that he would hit her. Not her Vernon! That was the sort of thing that happened to other people. Other women who were to weak to see what was in front of them, too misguided and easily fooled. The problem was what could she do about it now? Did she want to do something about it? Perhaps it was just a phase? Yes, that was it. A phase bought on by the extra stress of the audit at his work. All she had to do was bide her time, and everything would be back to normal again.
There was a tight sick feeling in her stomach, it actually reminded her of those times when she wished that she had magic too.
cut -
"Hey Mooney?" Sirius called as he ran up the stairs to Remus' room.
"Yeah, Pads," by the time Remus looked up Sirius was standing in his doorway unsurely, a piece of parchment clasped in one hand. "Come in you old dog."
"We got a letter today," Sirius said, sitting himself down on the edge of Remus' bed, ignoring the chair that was beside it.
"That's nice. You get letters everyday."
"But this one is from admirers," Sirius waggled his eyebrows.
"Admirers?"
"Well kind of. Perhaps possible disciples?…. No devotees….. No minions!" Sirius chuckled.
Remus reached out and snatched the piece of paper straight from Sirius' hand.
"Oi! No far, just because you have super fast wolf reflexes," he pouted.
"I'm never allowing you to read Muggle comics again. For the love of Magic I do not have…." Remus gave up mid argument, deciding that it really was not worth it. Instead he turned his eyes to the page. "This is from the twins!"
"Yeah, they want permission to use some of the ideas in the Marauders manual for their joke shop."
"I….I…really don't think it's a good idea," Remus said after a moments contemplation.
"Why?" Sirius asked.
"Well we were right gits. How would you feel if Snape marketed that spell that turned your clothes into that pink see-through number from fifth year."
"I rocked that skirt, I'll have you know," Sirius grinned, before adding more seriously, "I wouldn't mind. Though I don't think it would sell all that well. What if we had right of veto?"
"That could work. I …I would also like to run it by Harry, he might not care, but it is part of his heritage as well."
"He also has a good head on his shoulders for what should be classed as bullying, and I know he won't want them to cross that line."
"Yeah. I …you know …sometimes I wish, that we had a friend like him when we were at school."
"I don't," Sirius said resolutely. "Think about all the shite he has had to go through to become the man that he is. I would not wish that on anyone. We grew up. It just took us a bit longer to get there that's all."
"Yeah, hey do you think Kreacher would make me some chocolate pudding?" Remus looked at Sirius hopefully.
"Nah," Sirius laughed. "But lucky for you Harry taught me how to make it."
It had taken a near death experience but finally they were re-building their friendship.
cut -