As Harry was making his way to the Quidditch pitch for the final match of the year, Slytherin versus Hufflepuff, he could not help but wonder how eventful the last three weeks had been. He had been very well entertained to say the least. The arrival of Bridget Hawthorne certainly had a lot to do with that.
"She… she cannot teach here," Dumbledore protested after the introduction of the new History of Magic teacher, "she… she…"
"She can and she will," Bartemius Crouch Senior quickly cut through Dumbledore's starting tirade, "she is the only Historian left in Britain who is young enough and adequately qualified to teach. Therefore…"
"But she will feed lies…" Dumbledore began, only to be interrupted by Crouch Senior again, "Miss Hawthorne has agreed to strictly follow the new, Ministry approved History of Magic curriculum. There should be no conflicts of interest. To ensure that, I would prefer to discuss the details of Miss Hawthorne's appointment in private, preferably in your office, Headmaster."
According to Harry's map, the discussion had lasted well past midnight. It appeared like Dumbledore was trying to be as uncooperative as possible, adamant to prevent his adversary from teaching actual History to his historically oblivious students. Luckily, the Headmaster seemed to be unsuccessful.
When Harry entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning, the pale figure of Bridget Hawthorne was already sitting at the staff table, animatedly conversing with the merry Professor Flitwick and oddly Severus. The scene looked rather domestic, like Bridget Hawthorne had never taken her breakfast anywhere else. It was truly mind boggling that this was her first day of teaching at Hogwarts and her first meal in the Great Hall.
When the Slytherins entered the History classroom a couple of hours later, their new teacher was already present. Bridget Hawthorne, dressed in dark, rather form-fitting duelling robes, was casually leaning against her desk. It was odd having a real teacher in the classroom after months of enduring Binns. Still, the teacher was not the only thing to have changed. The entire classroom had been refurbished and redecorated. Binns' ancient wooden furniture had been replaced with brand new desks and chairs, making the room smell pleasantly of freshly cut oak. The formerly smudgy, darkened walls had been repainted in a crisp white. Instead of being bare, like they previously had been, they were covered with a wide array of posters, containing important historical dates, ground-breaking legislation, family trees, and information about Hogwarts herself. Overall, the classroom was hardly recognisable, Harry mused to himself as he took his usual seat in the front row.
Just as the bell was ringing, Weasley and his gang burst into the classroom. Blind to the changes within the classroom, they let themselves fall on their usual seats in the back, not even bothering to excuse their tardiness, nor attempting to get their books, quills, and parchment on the table.
At the front, Professor Hawthorne's lips twitched in disdain as she eyed the Gryffindors, before pushing herself off her desk, thus positioning herself in the middle of the classroom, "As unbelievable as it may sound to all of you, studying History of Magic is not a futile and redundant endeavour. We are nothing without our rich and proud past. Without the achievements of our ancestors and without proper documentation, there would be no Spells, no Charms, no Transfigurations, no Hexes, no Curses, no Potions, no Runes, no Wards, and no Rituals to learn. You would not live in the Manors of your ancestors, not wield your wands, nor wander the streets of Diagon Alley, or Hogsmeade, nor study at Hogwarts, and you would not be protected by the Ministry of Magic. You are here to learn about all these important achievements, about struggle, about inventions, and about war, but also about peace."
By now, she had all eyes in the room attentively glued on her. As she was standing in the middle of the classroom, her voice firm and laced with passion, Bridget Hawthorne made an impressive figure, her lips morphed into an enchanting smile, "If we allow ourselves to remain ignorant of our past, we will never improve, since we willingly refuse to learn from past mistakes, no matter if they were our own, or date back well beyond our own days. As someone who has studied our past extensively, I can confirm the truth of these words. Let me assure you, although it might seem shocking to you, our past consists of more than just Goblin rebellions."
Harry could not help himself but smirk at her words. Others, like Blaise and Pansy, openly chuckled at her jab at their former teacher.
"Funny, is it not?" Professor Hawthorne remarked dryly, "but I must warn you, this class is not a funny affair and certainly not a joke. Previously, it might have been, but I will not tolerate sluggishness and inattentiveness, and certainly not tardiness. Therefore, I expect you to arrive at the classroom before the bell rings, to do your homework to the best of your abilities, and to participate actively in class. This class is not the time to catch up on your sleep. I will not tolerate any disregard for these very basic rules. Since some of you have already violated some of the basic rules by being late, I expect a foot of parchment from each perpetrator on why History of Magic is an important subject to study. I expect the assignment on my desk before the start of our next lesson on Friday. Do you have any questions?"
Despite not having raised his hand, Weasley opened his mouth in protest, "But this is our first…"
"Mister Weasley," Professor Hawthorne interrupted the redhead, "I am well aware that this is your first class with me. You should call yourself lucky that I did not deduct any points or assigned detentions. A short essay is a fairly light punishment in my books."
Weasley's mouth snapped shut, his freckled face turning even redder in anger. The emotion was mirrored on the faces around him. This was not how Dumbledore's golden lions were used to being treated.
"Since there appear to be no questions," Professor Hawthorne continued, her voice smooth and sure, "we shall start with the first proper historical topic you will learn about this year, the Wizengamot. Who can tell me anything about the Wizengamot? Do not be shy. Yes, Miss?"
"Granger, Professor," Hermione said, unusually shy, yet eager to learn, "may I ask a small question beforehand?"
"Certainly, Miss Granger," Professor Hawthorne smiled encouragingly.
"Will the material covered by Professor Binns be a part of our exam?" the Gryffindor asked.
"Most certainly not," Professor Hawthorne answered, crossing her arms in front of her chest, barely managing to conceal the sneer on her face, "not only is most of his teaching historically inaccurate but it also portrays magical beings in a highly inconvenient way, thus encouraging prejudice. This, of course, shall be rectified, but not this year. Miss Granger, would you like to start? I am curious what you know about the Wizengamot."
Unsurprisingly, at least to Tom and Harry, History of Magic quickly became one of the favourite classes of the majority of the student population. Bridget Hawthorne seemed to earn the adoration of most of the castle's residents by storm. The Ravenclaws were particularly in awe of Bridget Hawthorne's vast and deep knowledge of History, and her willingness to offer special tutoring to those taking their OWLs. The Hufflepuffs were especially appreciative of her demanding, yet benevolent and always helpful demeanour. The Slytherins on the other hand respected her for incorporating Pureblood traditions and an unbiased, fact-based version of the origins of magic in class, as well as directly opposing Dumbledore. While some Gryffindors seemed to agree with the other three houses and had slowly started to warm up towards their new History of Magic teacher, some dunderheads like Weasley and his gang still failed to realise that Bridget Hawthorne was not Cuthbert Binns. Unwilling to put any effort towards History, quite a few Gryffindors were now faced with a growing mountain of detentions, while the large hourglass in the entrance hall was slowly being drained of all its rubies. This once again proved how thick some Gryffindors were.
The same could be said for their Head of House. While the majority of the staff had quickly warmed up to Bridget Hawthorne and had gladly welcomed her among their ranks, Minerva McGonagall's openly adversarial behaviour spoke volumes. While Bridget Hawthorne had managed to engage even naturally reclusive people like Severus or Filch in conversations, all attempts to converse with the Transfiguration teacher had failed so far. Living up to her true Gryffindor self, quite a few of these dismissals had taken place in the Great Hall for all to see, teachers and students alike. It was entertaining for sure, especially since the harder Bridget Hawthorne tried to ensnare the Transfiguration teacher, the harder McGonagall would snap back. It was blatantly obvious that it was only a game, or rather a source of amusement for the Historian. In all her brash Gryffindor mindset, Minerva McGonagall had so far failed to realise that she was made to look silly in front of the entire school. Meanwhile, Dumbledore shunned his newest addition to the staff like the plague. The changes at Hogwarts truly were entertaining.
Some changes on the other hand were not, at least not in Harry's book. Since the Slytherins were so far in the lead in the Quidditch house cup, all they needed in their last match of the season against Hufflepuff was a quick victory. That meant catching the Snitch quickly. While Adrian was a good Seeker, he had failed to catch the small, winged golden ball in the last match against Ravenclaw. While the Chasers of the Hufflepuff team were far from posing any threat, their Keeper was rubbish, and their Beaters missed the Bludgers half of the time, their new Seeker Cedric Diggory was a natural. Because of Diggory's superb flying, the Hufflepuffs had easily won their match against Ravenclaw, while the one against Gryffindor had been a close call. Therefore, their captain Marcus Flint had decided to train Adrian extra hard. At one point, the entire team had been employed to help the struggling Seeker, going against Adrian one-on-one, one player after the other. Because of that, Flint had realised Harry's 'talent' as a Seeker. Of course, it was not so much talent since he was able to sense the magical signature of the Snitch, not that anyone needed to know. Since it did not break any rules, Flint had decided on a very special tactic in their game against the Hufflepuffs, swiftly ignoring Harry's protest.
Inside the changing room, Harry stared longingly at the Chaser uniforms Draco, Adrian, and Flint were holding in their hands. At least Flint had promised that this would only be a one-time affair. Sighing quietly to himself, Harry finally began to change.
A few minutes and one of Flint's impressive speeches later, the Slytherin team was welcomed by ecstatic cheers from the Slytherin stands and deafening boos from the remaining three houses.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the second-to-last Quidditch game of the season: Slytherin versus Hufflepuff," Lee Jordan's ecstatic voice echoed over the ranks, "and now, both teams enter the pitch. Here they are! The Slytherins led by captain Marcus Flint in the lead… Wait! Is that Harry Potter in Seeker's gear?"
After that, all hell broke loose. While the ranks erupted in upset screams, the Hufflepuff captain Malcolm Preece loudly started to argue with Madam Hooch about the unfairness and illicitness of the swap of positions by the Slytherin team. It took Madam Hooch almost ten minutes and several threats of removing points to quiet the Hufflepuffs enough to explain that it was within the Slytherins' rights to change the positions of their players.
Finally, Madam Hooch signalled the start of the game. Harry immediately pushed himself off the ground, shooting in the air. Instead of following the Snitch, he pointed his broom handle towards Tamsin Applebee, the Hufflepuff Chaser currently in possession of the Quaffle. Surprised by the speed in which Harry was shooting past him, Applebee dropped the Quaffle. Fractions of a second later, the red ball was caught by Adrian who quickly passed the Quaffle over to Draco. A few seconds later, Slytherin was ten points in the lead.
"What kind of flying is this?" Lee Jordan exclaimed five minutes later, "I have no idea what Potter is doing! It doesn't seem like he is looking for the Snitch! He is doing it again!"
Just then, Harry pushed down his broomstick handle to fall into a steep dive, almost knocking one of the Hufflepuff Beaters off her broom. The Beater had not been his original goal. That role was still reserved for Preece. Shooting straight towards the Chaser and Captain of the Hufflepuff team, Harry was still accelerating. For a fraction of a second, Preece stared at him, his eyes open wide in surprise and fear. Pulling his broom handle hard to the side, Preece narrowly avoided a collision. Unfortunately for him, he also dropped the Quaffle trying to hold on to his spinning broom. This time, Flint caught the red ball, quickly passing it to Adrian, who sped towards the unguarded hoops of the Hufflepuffs, scoring the next goal. Slytherin was now fifty points in the lead.
Before the match, the Slytherin team had debated extensively about their strategy. While they were far ahead in the Quidditch house cup and it would be almost impossible for either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor to catch up to them, none of them wanted to leave their victory up to chance. Therefore, they had decided that Harry would catch the Snitch only if they were at least fifty points in the lead. Now that the fifth goal had been scored, it was time to catch the Snitch.
Ever since the start of the match, Harry had kept track of the magical signature of the small golden ball, making sure that Diggory was not getting too close. Currently, it was circling the hoops of the Slytherins at the opposite side of the stadium. Harry leaned back for a tight looping. Without losing any speed, he shot away from the Hufflepuff goals. Speeding past a clueless Diggory, who had long since ceased chasing Harry. He could not help but smile at the excitement spreading through every fibre of his body as he continued to accelerate. Before a single soul in the stadium could even realise what happened, Harry had already closed his fingers around the small golden ball, ending the match.
"Potter is performing a sharp turn. What is he planning this time?" Lee Jordan's excited voice boomed through the stadium, "what is going on? Is… is that the Snitch? Yes, it is! Potter has caught the Snitch! Diggory has not even seen it! Slytherin two hundred points, Hufflepuff nil! What a game it has been!"
What a game it indeed had been. With such a large lead, no other team would steal the cup. Once the team had landed, they immediately found themselves on the shoulders of their housemates who had stormed the Quidditch pitch.
Later that day, Harry found himself in the middle of a party. Despite the approaching exams, the entire house was celebrating the victory of the house cup. Somebody had stolen the large Slytherin banner and Charmed it to stick on the wall next to the large fireplace. The tables were filled with a wide array of food and beverages, spiked punch and fire whiskey included. A large gramophone blared the tunes of the Weird Sisters, while all house politics and etiquette appeared to have been forgotten for the day in favour of the victory.
As it was getting later and later, the older years were getting drunker and drunker, and the atmosphere in the common room was getting more ecstatic by the minute. Harry meanwhile was getting more antsy by the minute. Midnight was approaching. While celebrating their victory of the house cup was good and well, he had different plans for tonight. After all, it was a full moon and the night of the third brewing stage of the Resurrection Potion. With all the celebrating students still in the common room it seemed like an almost impossible endeavour to slip away unnoticed, especially since it was well past curfew. Still, with the right distraction everything could be possible.
Focussing on the gramophone, Harry pushed forth his magic. Within seconds, the common room erupted as "Do the Hippogriff" began to play. While the entire house stormed the dancefloor, Harry Disillusioned himself with a wave of his hand and slipped out of the common room, luckily unnoticed.
A few minutes later, Severus signalled him to enter his private quarters, a frown on his face, "How bad is it?"
"Quite bad," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders, "to the point the older years started singing the Muggle songs performed by Dumbledore's messengers of love, although Marcus Flint really should not be singing, especially not George Michael songs. Good thing I brewed enough of the Headache Potion during our last lesson."
Severus opted not to reply, the roll of his eyes saying it all. He led Harry to his private Potions laboratory. The large cauldron in the centre of the room was emitting a steady cloud of steam, its content a swirling vortex of poisonous green and glittering black. So far, the Potion had turned out perfectly. The Dark Phoenix tears and the Basilisk venom were in absolute balance, having matured perfectly. Tonight, it would be time to merge the two opposite substances completely.
At midnight, the Potions Master carefully Levitated the first vial filled with the Elixir of Life above the steaming cauldron. This was a rather tricky manoeuvre since the Elixir had to be added in the exact centre of the cauldron. Otherwise, it would react badly with either substance. Fortunately, Severus had always been more than precise and controlled in his movements. Once the first vial had been added, the vortex within the cauldron began to swirl faster, the contrast between the two substances not as precise as before, while the first fiery sparks began erupting from its unruly surface.
Over the course of the next few hours, six more vials of the golden Elixir were added to the Potion. With each added vial, the contrast between the Dark Phoenix tears and the Basilisk venom decreased as the Elixir of Life was slowly and steadily merging the two opposing substances together, changing the colour more and more towards a rich golden shimmer. Simultaneously, the number of sparks was steadily increasing. Once the final vial had been added, Harry quickly returned to the common room. Climbing over a large number of passed out, snoring bodies, he finally dropped into the soft depths of his bed, falling asleep within seconds.
After the Slytherins had recovered from their victory celebration, mostly thanks to the help of the Hangover Potion mercifully distributed by Severus before breakfast, studying for the exams continued. With the first exams only one week away, the inner Ravenclaw of many Slytherins seemed to come to light. Most students were rarely seen without a book or their revision notes, with the common room turning eerily quiet. The only one who seemed to be entirely unbothered was Harry, although he spent most of his week tutoring his peers, answering questions, demonstrating magic, and encouraging them. Surprisingly, a large number of those seeking help were second and third years. But by now, most Slytherins had gotten used to Harry's deep and vast knowledge. Therefore, rarely anyone was lifting an eyebrow whenever Harry was explaining something, he should not know yet.
While some Slytherins were slowly going crazy, they were nothing against Hermione. Some days, Harry wondered if the Gryffindor slept at all, judging from the dark circles underneath her eyes and the hair, that was getting more and more out of control. Whenever he saw her, she always seemed to be buried in her notes and textbooks while spending an astonishing amount of time in the library. Apparently, Gryffindor common room was much too noisy to study in, which was hardly surprising given its moronic, rowdy residents. She would snap whenever somebody dared to interrupt her precious studying time and become extremely agitated in the case, she ever forgot a titbit of information no matter how insignificant. Not even Harry appeared to be able to ignore her increasingly snappish behaviour anymore. Tom, as always a more hands-on, practical individual, suggested letting the House Elves slip a few Calming Draughts in her breakfast. Harry thought it was a bit too much and opted to endure the studious Gryffindor.
A week later, the exams finally began. On Monday morning, Professor McGonagall called the first years into a large, usually unused classroom for their written Transfiguration exam. While around him students were trying to do some last-minute revision, others were complaining about the swelteringly hot temperatures within the classroom. Harry did not care, although he wondered for a second why Professor McGonagall was doing nothing against the heat. A simple Cooling Charm would be an easy solution.
The theoretical part of the exam was laughable. Having long since internalised the basics of Transfiguration theory, Harry finished well before the rest of his year mates. In the end, he spent more time reading through his new Gaelic Runes manual than answering questions. After lunch, Professor McGonagall called them in her classroom one by one for the practical part of the exams. For the main part of the exam, they were supposed to turn a mouse into a snuffbox. Points would be awarded depending on how pretty the box was – how (cough) objective – and deduced if it had whiskers. Additionally, they were asked to demonstrate at least two other Transfigurations they had learned throughout the year. The stern professor was rather annoyed when presented with Harry's permanent results and snapped at him to demonstrate the proper Spellwork if he wished to pass his exams. Raising a single, challenging eyebrow at the furious woman, he quickly flicked his Blackthorn wand at the three objects Professor McGonagall had placed in front of him. Her jaw dropped as the snuffbox, the needle, and the peppermill started to morph at the same time. After all, Harry had never uttered a single word and only flicked his wand once.
The rest of the exams scheduled for the week passed without incidents. On Tuesday during the practical part of the Charms exam, Professor Flitwick squealed in delight at Harry's expertly executed Levitation Charm, followed by his Charmed pineapple that elegantly tap-danced across the tiny professor's desk. On Wednesday night, Professor Sinistra quizzed them on the special star movements of the Orion constellation before they were told to map the Taurus and Auriga constellations. The last exam of the week had been History of Magic on Friday.
Much to Tom's and Harry's delight, Professor Hawthorne had forgone to question them on Binns' rubbish on Goblin rebellions. Instead, they were quizzed on the foundations, development, and functions of the Wizengamot, which they had covered ever since the useless ghost had been banished. For the second part of the exam, Professor Hawthorne had them write a short essay on their personal opinion on the value of History of Magic. Harry had enjoyed the latter part quite a lot since it was a nice and creative deviation from the usual pattern of repetition.
The next week started with their Herbology exam. While they spent the morning answering questions on the theory behind the interaction of different types of soil, watering, and sunlight, and the influence on various types of plant, the practical part of the exams mostly focussed on the handling and care of the Devil's Snare. What an inconspicuous choice, especially in light of Dumbledore's little obstacle course hidden on the forbidden third-floor corridor.
While Quirrell did not have them wrestle a Mountain Troll during the practical part of the Defence against the Dark Arts exam on Wednesday, he kept throwing Harry weird glances and his stutter was worse than ever. Harry easily defeated the training dummy, accidentally hitting it with an overpowered Severing Charm. After that, the examinations had to be halted for twenty minutes as Quirrell tried to repair the beheaded training dummy. In the end, it had to be replaced with a back-up delivered from the Ministry.
Their last exam was Potions on Friday. After the theoretical part of the exam, most students appeared to be close to a mental breakdown. As usual, Harry was unbothered and enjoyed his lunch. Once the bell had rung, they were ushered back inside the Potions classroom and told to brew the Forgetfulness Potion. While Seamus Finnegan managed to blow up his seventh cauldron, Harry was already bottling his finished Potion. As always, he had deviated from the official instructions quite a lot. Because of that, his Potion was much more potent. Severus would surely be delighted.
Spending the remainder of the exam reading a tome on ancient Aztec rituals, the rest of the first years continued to brew to varying degrees of success. The content of Weasley's dented cauldron smelt like rotten eggs, while Lavender Brown had trouble bottling the thick goo stuck to the bottom of her cauldron. After the bell had rung, Severus finally let them go.
"That was far easier than I thought it would be," Hermione said, once they had left the Potions classroom and were making their way out of the dungeons, "I needn't have learnt about Zygmunt Budge's Purity Laws…"
Having sensed the look of exasperation on the faces of Draco and Neville, Harry quickly interrupted her, before she could go on, "Hermione, please, I think we all have had enough of exams for now. I think we all did brilliantly. There is no need to go through the exams again. Since the weather is so nice outside, what about if we go out to the lake to relax a bit for a change?"
Although Hermione appeared to be reluctant at first, she eventually agreed and the four made their way out of the dungeons followed by the rest of the first year Slytherins. After a quick stop at the kitchens to pick up some snacks from the over-joyous House Elves, they began to climb the stairs leading to the entrance hall. As he passed the threshold that connected the dungeons and the entrance hall, Harry felt a rather strong set of Compulsions trying to latch themselves onto him. It seemed like Dumbledore had waited with his big move for the end of the year. Tom had been right after all.
"I'm always right," the Dark Lord purred, "of course, he would wait until the end of the year to unleash this spectacle upon you."
"Smart-aleck tosser," Harry snorted to one cackling Dark Lord as he was starting to dissect the layers of Compulsions. The main theme of the Compulsions seemed to establish a deep sense of paranoia, forcing him to reconsider his discovery of the Philosopher's Stone, Nicolas Flamel, the Cerberus on the Forbidden Corridor on the third floor, the character and involvement of Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell, and Hagrid's shady dealings that had led to the acquisition of the Dragon's egg. The Compulsions would force him to confront Hagrid. Later tonight, they would then force him to go after the Stone, being under the impression that Voldemort would make a move towards the Stone. Still, this could not be everything, Harry thought to himself as he was making his way across the entrance hall.
Moments later, he was proven right as he overheard Professor McGonagall telling Professor Flitwick, who were both making their way down the large marble staircase, that the Headmaster had left Hogwarts on an urgent call from the Ministry, stating that he would be gone for most of the day. Harry had almost snorted at her words, wondering what Dumbledore was actually doing outside the school. In the current political climate, it was highly unlikely that the Ministry would demand the presence of the old goat.
Still, ignoring the Compulsions and the exchange of the two professors was no option. Instead, it was time to put his and Tom's own plan into motion.
Once the two professors were out of sight, Harry stopped his friends, "I'm such an idiot! I left my scale in the Potions classroom. Would you mind going to the lake without me? I will join you as fast as I can, although I might drop my bag in the dormitory."
Although Blaise was shooting him a questioning glance, the others quickly agreed, making their way on the grounds while Harry headed for the dungeons. Instead of heading for the Potions classroom, he ducked in the next alcove, pulling out his magical map. Once the map had been activated, he instantly searched the map for a set of familiar names. Luckily, they were not stuck in an exam but currently standing in a classroom on the fourth floor in the company of a few Gryffindor second years.
Thanks to a few handy shortcuts, it took him less than five minutes to climb up to said floor and make his way to the classroom. A quick glance on the map revealed that the second years had left by now. Without further ado, Harry opened the door.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Harry said smoothly, closing the door behind him, simultaneously erecting strong Privacy Wards, "I take it that the Canary Cream is working splendidly well."
"Of course, it is, Harrykins," Forge said with a sharp smile that was all teeth, while pointing at the large heap of brightly coloured feathers on the ground, "we think…"
"…we got it down to the right measures, Harrykins," Gred continued smoothly, "our test subjects can attest to that. Still, to what…"
"…do we owe the pleasure?" both twins finished in synchronicity.
"Gentlemen," Harry began, the smile on his face turning ferally, "it is time for me to call you up on a favour."
"What can we do for you, Harrykins?" Gred and Forge chuckled darkly.
A few minutes later, he left the classroom and the twins behind, applying strong Disillusionment Charms on himself. It would do no good if he was seen during the next stage of his plan. Since he was on a tight schedule, he quickly pulled out a piece of parchment and a self-inking quill to pen down a short note. Once the note had been finished and the ink had been magically dried and Spells had been added to ensure that the parchment would destroy itself once it had been read by its recipient, he sprinted down the nearby case of stairs. A couple of minutes later, he stood in front of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom on the second floor. Calling forth his Parselmagic, he temporarily disabled the wards on the office door as well as the door behind, leading to Quirrell's personal quarters. Once both wards had been disabled, he wandlessly Levitated the piece of parchment through the gap underneath both doors. Sensing the arrival of the parchment at its intended destination, he quickly reconstructed the wards. Quirrell would be none the wiser about the breach of his safety measures.
Once the wards were up again, Harry wasted no time to leave as quickly as possible. Taking a secret passageway hidden behind a painting of Carmilla Sanguina, the infamous vampire lady who had bathed in the blood of her victims, he was soon back in the dungeons. Stepping out of the secret passageway, he ended the Disillusionment Charms. Passing students and teachers alike on his way to the lake, it seemed like his little detour had remained unnoticed.
He found his Slytherins and Hermione lounging at their usual spot at the lake. In the distance, the Giant Squid was lazily drifting in the water, close to the surface. The leaves of the trees were waving in a pleasant breeze, while the sun was high in the sky. All in all, the weather could not have been better.
"Look who is joining us," Blaise chuckled, a smirk plastered on his face, "did you get your scale back?"
"Eventually I did," Harry replied, his lip curling into a sharp smile, "although Professor Snape was not pleased to be interrupted by one of his beloved dunderheads yet again."
This was answered by quite a few laughs and snorts. After having sat down on the large blanket, he was offered a Cauldron Cake and a chilled bottle of Butterbeer. For the next hour, he was surrounded by happy chatter, while taking part occasionally. Still, Harry could not help but wonder how to best approach a possible visit to Hagrid's without arousing suspicion from his Slytherins. Still, he knew that he had to go in order to stay under Dumbledore's radar.
In the end, the decision was taken from him, as a large figure was approaching their group, his tall frame bathing them in shadows, "Hullo, 'arry. Finished yer exams?"
Forcing a smile on his face that made Blaise snort, Harry replied, "Yes, we just finished our last exam this afternoon. Is everything alright, Hagrid?"
Dumbledore's pet Giant truly was an atrocious actor as he failed to masquerade whatever was bothering him, "Nothin'… I… I just saw yer from me hut and thought ye were…"
"Were what?" Harry asked after a moment of silence, "were doing what, Hagrid?"
The Half-Giant carefully averted Harry's eyes when he spoke, "Looked like yer were scheming… Yer not still searchin' for Flamel, are yer?"
"No," Harry said lightly, shrugging his shoulders, "you told us that that's solely between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel. Therefore, it is neither our business nor responsibility to snoop around in other people's dealings. I stopped looking into Flamel long ago."
"Right. Right yer are, 'arry," Hagrid boomed, failing to lower his voice to the point that only Harry would hear it, "sure, the Philosopher's Stone's a secret between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel."
At those words, Harry wanted to smash his head against a nearby rock. Hagrid truly was the worst secret keeper ever, a fact Dumbledore seemed very well aware of, judging from the obvious manipulations. Instead of giving in to his desires, Harry forced a mask of child naiveté on his face, "Yes, it is. Anyway, I could not help but wonder, Hagrid, has your Dragon finally hatched?"
As soon as he uttered the word 'Dragon', Hagrid's eyes glazed over in pure delight, "Aye, Charlie Weasley's been writin' me that lil' Sigyn hatched a month ago. I might visit 'er o'er the summer."
"Not that this isn't nice," Draco's silky voice suddenly cut through Hagrid's rambling, "but I could not help but wonder how you even acquired a Dragon's egg. The trade and keeping of Dragons is heavily sanctioned, even banned in Britain. Who in their right mind happens to carry a Dragon's egg, and even willingly parts with it during a game of cards in the Hog's Head?"
Internally, Harry thanked the heir of the Malfoy family for his quick thinking and his sharp words. Because of Draco, he would not be forced to further continue this stupid game. Thankfully, the entire school by now was aware of the circumstances in which the gamekeeper had come into the possession of an illegally traded Dragon's egg.
Meanwhile, the Half-Giant looked dumbstruck at those words, the wheels in his head struggling to process the information.
"Yes, exactly," Hermione joined into the conversation, her tone sharp, "who would carry a Dragon's egg."
"I ne'er saw his face, he kept his hood up," Hagrid explained, squirming under their gazes.
"And he just happened to offer you a Dragon's egg?" Neville asked incredulously, one eyebrow raised.
"I can' remember too well, 'cause we kept orderin' drinks," Hagrid said, scratching his head, trying yet failing to remember, "asked if we could play cards but only had the egg with 'im and if it was alright ter use it as his stake. Since I always wanted ter have one, I agreed."
"Just like that?" Blaise asked, his voice laced with sarcasm, "he would just give a Dragon's egg to a stranger?"
"Ehhh, he said first he had ter be sure that I could handle it, he didn't want it ter go ter any old home," Hagrid explained sincerely, making the Slytherins snort quietly, "so I told him, after Fluffy, a Dragon would be easy…"
Without further prompt, the stupid oaf revealed that a bit of music was all that it took to calm the giant Cerberus, before excusing himself, making them promise to not reveal the information he had just told to anyone. Once the Half-Giant was out of earshot, Blaise snorted, raising an eyebrow as he was looking at Harry, "It's almost like they want you to go after the Philosopher's Stone, do they not?"
Harry's lips morphed into a sharp smile, "I have no idea where you got that idea from, Blaise."
While all around him the Slytherins began to laugh, Hermione's face turned serious, "Please tell me you are not going after the Stone, are you?"
"Hermione, one of the things you should have learnt by now" Harry chuckled, "is that some things are better left in the care of adults. I refuse to get involved in their business."
After a few more pleasant hours in the sun, they headed back towards the castle for dinner. Once they had reached the Great Hall, Hermione split from the group, heading towards the Gryffindor table. After a short glance at the empty chairs of Quirrell and the Headmaster, Harry led his Slytherins to their own table.
Once his plate had been piled with steak, potatoes, and a wide assortment of vegetables, his gaze wandered over the Gryffindor table. Hermione was animatedly chatting with Parvati Patil and Romilda Vane. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan had stuck their heads together, obviously scheming. Their brother Ronald on the other hand was, as always, displaying his best table manners, shovelling large amounts of gravy-covered steak and kidney pie in his mouth, while his rat Scabbers was nibbling at a piece of his owner's dinner.
Over the course of the last weeks, Weasley had taken it upon himself to carry Scabbers to wherever he was going. Ever since the twins had started talking about using the rat as a test subject for their vastly growing selection of inventions, dear Ronald had started to fear for the life of his beloved pet. The twins could truly be menaces when they wanted to be. Thus, Scabbers had become a common sight during classes and meals in the Great Hall.
Halfway through dinner, he felt eyes on him. Feeling his illegal Alder wand sliding into his hand underneath the table, Harry quickly confirmed that he was ready. A few seconds later, the Great Hall erupted into chaos as the Weasley twins jumped on the table, making platters of food flying everywhere while simultaneously releasing large quantities of Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks in the air. Once the fireworks had taken off, the twins started shooting all sorts of brightly coloured sparks and light hexes at each other, Levitating food everywhere, while loudly screaming, "Freedom! No more exams!"
"Enough!" Professor McGonagall boomed, rising from her seat, aiming her wand at the twins, "you will stop this instant!"
Opting not to listen, the twins instead decided to shoot a few minor Exploding Charms at several bowls of mashed potatoes. Just as the first students were being hit by the exploding mash, Harry released his magic, shooting off a wordless Animagus Reversal Spell towards the fleeing form of Scabbers. Not bothering to react to the shaking reaction of those around him towards the short display of his powers, Harry's eyes were firmly glued on the rat as it was hit by a jet of blue light.
Suddenly, all action in the hall stopped, with the last pieces of firework exploding unnoticed in the background, as the rat started to morph, growing larger and larger, before finally, an extremely short, rat-like man with thinned, greyish, ratty hair was lying on the Gryffindor table. Upon the sight in front of them, students started to scream, trying to push themselves away from the table, while Weasley seemed to lose all the colour in his face, his eyes growing wide in horror. The teachers were frozen in shock, while Professor McGonagall gasped in disbelief, "This cannot be… Peter Pettigrew."
Meanwhile, Pettigrew squeaked, before regaining his senses. Finally processing his discovery, the Animagus tried to flee on all fours, crawling over the table, knocking over trays, bowls, goblets, plates, and cutlery back and forth. Harry only hoped that somebody would stop Pettigrew before he would manage to get hold of a wand.
Luckily, there were professionals in the room.
While Professor McGonagall kept staring at the fleeing man on the table, who moments prior had been the pet of one of her beloved lions, two figures moved forwards, firing off spells at Pettigrew. While a white beam of light, a Petrificus Totalus most likely, fired off by the pale figure of Professor Hawthorne ceased all of Pettigrew's movements, strong ropes conjured by Severus ensured that it would remain that way.
"This… this cannot be," Professor McGonagall repeated, still in shock, as she stared at the frozen and bound figure lying in a pile of food on top of the Gryffindor house table, "this is impossible."
"Obviously, it is not," Severus' familiar drawl echoed through the hall, as he eyed the Animagus, a look of disgust on his face.
"But… but what do we do?" Professor McGonagall asked helplessly, "the Headmaster is…"
"We obviously call for people who are authorised to deal with such a situation," Bridget Hawthorne said coolly, flicking her wand in a familiar circular movement, before uttering the words, "Expecto Patronum."
A large, shining Siberian tiger suddenly materialised in the Great Hall, stalking around its creator.
"Deliver this message to Rufus Scrimgeour and Amelia Bones from Bridget Hawthorne," the professor of History of Magic ordered in a steady, no nonsense voice, "Peter Pettigrew has been discovered at Hogwarts alive, posing as the pet rat of a student since he is an Animagus. We immediately demand the help of the Auror squad and representatives from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Use my floo. The password is ' The Scarlet Letter' ."
Once the silvery tiger had left, Professor Hawthorne, Professor Flitwick, and Severus immediately separated the students from Pettigrew before erecting strong Wards that would prevent the short, rat-like man from transforming into his Animagus form.
Not even five minutes later, the doors of the Great Hall were thrown open as a large group of Aurors and officials of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement stormed into the Hall, led by Rufus Scrimgeour and Amelia Bones.
Even from a distance, Rufus Scrimgeour's slight limp was hard to miss. As Tom knew, it was a souvenir he had obtained during a rather violent confrontation with Abraxas Malfoy in the spring of 1977, not that Scrimgeour was aware that it had been Abraxas to injure him since the then Lord of the Malfoy family had been wearing a mask. Unlike the last time Tom had seen the Head Auror, he had forgone his walking stick, probably forgotten due to the urgent nature of the call. Also, his mane of tawny hair had grown quite a bit since their last confrontation, although now streaked by a large number of grey strands. Deep furrows appeared on his face as his yellowish eyes, that were now hidden behind wire-rimmed spectacles, landed on the bound form of Pettigrew on the Gryffindor table.
"Unbelievable," Amelia Bones said, her tone serious, while shaking her head as she and Scrimgeour came to a halt in front of the discovered Animagus. After having received a grunt as an answer from Scrimgeour, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement stepped closer to the table to inspect the bound Animagus, as always, her monocle firmly in place. Her squared jaw was working silently, as she cast Detection Charm upon Detection Charm, while her short, greyish hair kept falling into her face.
After a couple of minutes, she turned around, her voice loud and steady, "I have no doubt that is indeed Peter Pettigrew. But how?"
Bridget Hawthorne and Severus then quickly went on to explain the circumstances in which the hidden Animagus had been discovered.
"While this has certainly been enlightening, at least to a certain extent," Madam Bones said, once the two teachers had finished, "I am afraid there is much more to this discovery than we can imagine. This changes everything. Rufus, in light of the consequences this will cause, I think we need to act swiftly to find out the truth. If my presumptions are proven to be right, an innocent man has been rotting in Azkaban for more than a decade. Do you agree that we should administer Veritaserum immediately?"
"Amelia, under normal circumstances I would never agree," Scrimgeour's gruffy voice echoed through the quiet Hall, "but circumstances as extraordinary as these call for drastic measures. I will send Williamson to get…"
"There is no need for that since we have a Potions Master in our midst," Amelia Bones said, her tone decisive. Without another word, Severus reached for one of his many pockets. None of those present in the Great Hall batted an eye, as the Potions Master pulled out a small vial filled with a clear substance. The vial was quickly handed over to Madam Bones, while a couple of Aurors, Proudfoot and Williamson, Tom supposed, grabbed the bound Animagus. Releasing the bind momentarily, Pettigrew was swiftly placed on a Conjured chair, before a new layer of magical Bindings was reapplied which only allowed movements of his head. Throughout the entire ordeal, Pettigrew's whiney whimpers echoed through the Great Hall, as he desperately declared his innocence.
"Well, Mister Pettigrew, we will soon find out if you are truly innocent," the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement said, before grabbing the weak jaw of Peter Pettigrew, swiftly administering three drops of the Truth Serum. Fractions of a second later, Pettigrew's eyes glazed over before a dreamy expression appeared on his face.
While the Truth serum was starting to work, Amelia Bones pulled a long piece of parchment and a Dictating Quill out of the depths of her robes. With a complicated movement of her wand, the setup was completed, recording every word that would be uttered until the Spell was cancelled.
"For the record," Madam Bones began, while the Dictating Quill was scratching quickly over the parchment, "it is May 26th, 1992. We, Amelia Bones, Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, and Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour, are at Hogwarts, Great Hall, to investigate the discovery of Peter Pettigrew, previously believed to have been murdered by Sirius Black on November 1st, 1981. Please state your full name."
"Peter Aiden Pettigrew," the short, rat-like man answered, while his lips contorted into a faint, hazy smile.
"Did you reveal the whereabouts of the Potters to the Dark Lord Voldemort?" the stern Witch asked, her voice shaking slightly at the name of the Dark Lord, causing a shudder to go through the Great Hall, while all eyes were focussing on Harry, before moving back on the bound Animagus.
"I did," Pettigrew answered, maintaining the unperturbed expression on his face. Every person present in the Great Hall held their breath at the shocking revelation.
"Were you the Secret Keeper of the Potters?" Amelia Bones continued after some long moments of silence, "and not Sirius Black?"
"I was," Pettigrew replied calmly, "I was the Secret Keeper, while Black was only the decoy."
"When did you join the ranks of the Dark Lord Voldemort?" Rufus Scrimgeour suddenly interfered, earning a hard look from the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, "and why?"
"Directly after graduating from Hogwarts," Pettigrew continued to answer in a monotonous voice, "I feared for my life, not wanting to share the fate of most fighting against the Dark Lord. I also did not want to remain in the shadows of Sirius and James."
"What happened on the night of Samhain 1981," Amelia Bones asked, for the first time, a faint touch of horror appeared to be tainting her voice.
"I was going into hiding," Pettigrew explained calmly, "I had already revealed the whereabouts of the Potters to the Dark Lord a fortnight prior. He insisted on waiting to make a move before Samhain, since his magic would be most potent on that night. He told me to go into hiding to avoid any repercussions, should one of those closest to the Potters decide to avenge them. Sadly, Sirius Black caught up to me mere hours later."
"What did Black do?" Scrimgeour asked, his words urgent, "did he kill all those Muggles?"
"He cornered me, asked me if I had truly betrayed the Potters, the family of his best friend," Pettigrew spoke calmly, "instead of answering, I screamed as loud as I could, so that the entire street could hear it, that Sirius Black had betrayed Lily and James Potter to the Dark Lord. Before Black could react, I shot a Bombarda at the gas pipe in the street, cut off my own finger, and transformed into my Animagus form."
Once Pettigrew had finished, the Hall remained eerily quiet, the eyes of everyone present either glued on the Animagus or Harry. After tense seconds of silence that felt more like hours, Amelia Bones cleared her throat, her monocle having left the safety of her right eye socket sometime during the interrogation, "I think that is enough for now. Proudfoot, Williamson, take Pettigrew to the Ministry and place him in the high security holding cell. Add Anti-Animagus Wards. I want a guard in front of his cell at all times. Inform the Minister that Head Auror Scrimgeour and I will deliver an official report, once everything at Hogwarts has been wrapped up. Inform Barty Crouch as well. I want to know why an innocent man was thrown into Azkaban under his care. Start sending out missives to the members of the Wizengamot. Include a transcript of his confession. I want Pettigrew on trial within a fortnight. We must act swiftly. Justice shall be served. Do you agree, Rufus?"
Again, Scrimgeour only grunted in confirmation before Amelia Bones continued, "Dawlish, Shacklebolt, get Sirius Black out of Azkaban immediately. After Pettigrew's confession, I hardly doubt that there is any reason for him to remain in that hellhole any longer. Do not place him in one of the Ministry's holding cells. Bring him to St. Mungo's instead, so that he can be nurtured back to health. Healer Gibbon should be the best-suited to deal with the damage caused by the long-term exposure to Dementors. Inform him that it was me who ordered the transfer of Black. Contact me should a problem arise."
Despite the expression of confusion and shock that was currently displayed on his face, Harry watched with glee as the immobile, bound form of Peter Pettigrew was Levitated out of the Great Hall. Once the Aurors and Pettigrew had left, whispers began to erupt all over the Hall. Ignoring the noise, Amelia Bones turned to the faculty. During her movement, her eyes briefly landed on Harry. An expression of sorrow and guilt appeared on her face, before she turned away to face the Deputy Headmistress, "Minerva, I am more than sorry that the students had to witness this. Should any of the students require professional help, please feel free to contact me. Before I leave, I would like to discuss a few things with Mister Potter. I guess this must be quite shocking to…"
"That is not necessary," Severus' familiar drawl echoed through the Great Hall, "as Mister Potter's Head of House and one familiar with both of his parents, I am best suited to deal with this very… unusual situation. Furthermore, I believe your presence is needed at the Ministry, Madam Bones. Let me deal with Mister Potter."
Much to the credit of the Ministry official, Amelia Bones addressed her next words directly at Harry, "Mister Potter, I hope that you are as well as one can be in a situation like this. I know that this must be quite a lot for you. If you want to discuss this issue with either myself or a professional from St. Mungo's, I could certainly understand you. Otherwise, Professor Snape…"
"I… I trust Professor Snape," Harry said, forcing a slight tremble into his voice, as he was nervously fumbling with the hem of his shirt, "you… you are needed at the Ministry."
Amelia Bones' eyes remained on Harry for a few seconds longer, before she continued to speak, "Still, do not hesitate to contact me should you require my help. Minerva, I trust you to take care of the students."
Once Professor McGonagall, who appeared to be seemingly frozen in place, had finally reacted to the words of the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with a belated nod of her head, Amelia Bones and Rufus Scrimgeour left to return to the Ministry.
After the two had left, all eyes in the Great Hall wandered to the Deputy Headmistress to await whatever she would order. Obviously overwhelmed by the shocking revelation, Professor McGonagall simply kept staring at the empty spot of the Gryffindor table where Pettigrew had been lying amongst a mountain of spilled food. When it became clearer and clearer that the Transfiguration teacher was in no state to solve the situation, a pale figure stepped forward, "Minerva, are you okay?"
"Ye… yes," Professor McGonagall answered weakly after a few seconds of silence but only after Bridget Hawthorne had placed a hand on her arm, "what I mean is no… This… this is just… We should resume dinner… We…"
"But not here," Professor Hawthorne replied, while around her the remaining teachers were nodding their heads in agreement, relieved that finally somebody was stepping up, taking control over the situation, "I think it would be better if the students were to be escorted to their respective common room to resume their dinner there. I will inform the House Elves. Aurora, Septima, would you please take care of the Gryffindors, while Minerva and I contact the Weasley family to inform them of the recent events."
Professor Sinistra and Professor Vector quickly agreed and led the Gryffindors, bar the four Weasleys, to their common room. Professor Flitwick and his Ravenclaws soon followed. While the Hufflepuffs and Professor Sprout were leaving, Bridget Hawthorne sent off her Patronus to inform the House Elves of the extraordinary circumstances. Professor Hawthorne then led Professor McGonagall and the four Weasleys out of the Hall to contact their parents. Ronald and Percy looked especially pale, seemingly in a state of shock, while the twins were trying to mask their amusement. Once the other three houses had left, the Slytherins finally returned to the dungeons. After Severus had informed his students that his door was always open for everyone requiring help, he and Harry retreated to the Potions Masters private laboratory to discuss recent events and to add the next vital ingredient to the Resurrection Potion.
Once the two of them, well, three if you included the Dark Lord, were alone and Strong Privacy Wards had been erected, the Potions Master raised an eyebrow, "You could have warned me before pulling that stunt, you know."
"Well, I could have warned you," Harry chuckled, a smirk appearing on his face, "but I did not want to spoil the surprise, Severus."
"Why now?" the Potions Master asked, clearly refusing to react to Harry's teasing.
"Because the Headmaster," Harry began, his smile all teeth, "decided that tonight was the night to send me after the Philosopher's Stone that Quirrell is currently trying to steal."
"But the Headmaster is gone," Severus stated, a spark of incredibility in his dark onyx orbs, "how could he…"
"That was quite easy despite him not being here. In fact, his absence makes his scheming so much more convenient," Harry chuckled, "he has been dropping hints the entire year, 'convincing' me with a nice array of Compulsions to investigate the forbidden third-floor corridor. Today, he let the cat out of the bag, so to say. When I was leaving the dungeons earlier today after the practical Potions exam, I felt a multitude of Compulsions trying to latch themselves onto me, forcing me to question the safety of the Stone, no doubt leading me to go after the Stone. The information revealed by McGonagall and Hagrid afterwards would only amplify my urge, especially since the Headmaster had left the school and thus, left the Stone unprotected. Because of the strength of the Compulsions, I needed a strong emotional upheaval to counteract the urge to go after the Stone, since a normal eleven-year-old would certainly not be in the mental and magical position to resist Dumbledore's magic. The discovery of the traitorous spy who revealed the whereabouts of my parents to the Dark Lord should be shocking enough to explain why I could resist the magic of the Light Lord. Would you agree, Severus?"
"Certainly," the Potions Master drawled, a spark of amusement in his eyes, "but what about Quirrell?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders before directly meeting the eyes of the Potions Master, "but I have the feeling that somebody might have dropped a piece of parchment at his office earlier today, containing detailed instructions on how to get past the obstacles and extract the Stone out of the Mirror or Erised."
"You… you did not," Severus' words sounded more like a question than a statement, his jaw slightly unhinged.
"Of course, I did," Harry chuckled, while the Dark Lord in the back was cackling madly, "just imagine the havoc the Headmaster will return to. The discovery of Peter Pettigrew, while Sirius Black was innocent all along and never got a trial, despite Dumbledore being the Chief Warlock at that time. And on top of that, the infamously guarded Philosopher's Stone stolen by one of his teachers. I guess damage control will become the favourite pastime of the esteemed Headmaster quite soon. Severus, I think it is about time to revere the magnificence of my and Tom's genius. Do you not agree?"
"You two are insane," the Potions Master snorted, his voice laced with amusement.
"While that might be true to a certain extent," Harry chuckled, before turning serious in an instant, "neither of us is as bonkers as a certain old coot."
The dry snort from Severus was all he needed in confirmation. His lips curling into a sharp grin, Harry reached for his pocket to pull out a certain magical map. Once the map had been activated, he quickly scanned the parchment for a specific name. It seemed like Quirrell was busy playing chess. With a flick of his wrist, his illegal Alder wand slipped into his hand to start modifying the magic of the map. Now, the magic of the map would alert him immediately whenever Dumbledore would set a foot in the castle.
For the next couple of hours, Harry and Severus prepared the last component of the Resurrection Potion that would be added before the actual ritual. They had started by thrice purifying water in a small cauldron with a liquid fire coating and measuring the required ingredients, while occasionally checking the map. It appeared like Quirrell was making good progress. An hour before midnight, Harry had added the first two ingredients to the slightly boiling water, seven carefully measured drops of Dark Phoenix tears and Basilisk venom each. Seven minutes later, seven drops of the Elixir of Life had followed.
"Are you sure that this will work?" Severus asked a few minutes later, holding a silver dagger in one hand.
"I am most certain," Harry said, his voice firm, "seven drops of your blood should be enough to prime the Potion. Tom and I did our calculations."
Seven minutes before midnight, Severus lightly poked his finger with the dagger. With narrowed eyes, Harry watched as the Potions Master carefully squeezed one drop after another in the small cauldron. Once the seventh and final drop had been added, the Potion started to sizzle while red smoke began to evaporate. The reaction was just like Tom and Harry had expected. When the clock was striking midnight, Severus added the contents of the smaller cauldron to the larger one. Immediately, the now completed Resurrection Potion started to sizzle quite aggressively while deep crimson smoke started to evaporate. In contrast, the sparks dancing over the unruly surface had turned a bright white. A week from now, Tom's body would be restored.
Once the Potion had been completed, Harry and Severus immediately left the private laboratory. After all, they had a role to play. After having climbed up to the private quarters of the Potions Master, Harry let himself fall on the leather sofa in one corner, once again pulling out the map.
"Is he still in the castle?" Severus asked, after he had closed the entrance to his hidden Potioneer's heaven.
Checking the map for the tiny dot of Quirinus Quirrell, the corners of Harry's mouth curled into a wicked grin, "Nope, it appears the 'Stone' alongside Quirrell has left the school grounds.
"Pity for the Headmaster," the Potions Master sneered, his dark eyes sparkling in glee.
A quarter of an hour later, the magic of the map suddenly flared up, signalling that Dumbledore had returned to Hogwarts. Curious at what the old man would do, Harry kept staring at the map which was still recording every bit of magic performed by the Headmaster. While he had expected Dumbledore to check on the Stone immediately, he was quite surprised by the feeling of an unpleasant wave of magic washing over him, making him shudder.
"What is it?" Severus asked, a concerned tone underlining his typical drawl.
"He is coming for me," Harry explained quickly, Transfiguring his black robes into pyjamas while tightening the hold on his magic, "I trust you to spin this accordingly, Severus. Do not disappoint me."
The Potions Master nodded his head in confirmation, a determined look on his usually unreadable face, pulling out his wand.
A few minutes later, a knock echoed through Severus' private quarters. Covered under a thick blanket feigning sleep, Harry heard the rustling of robes and steps on the cold stone floor as the Potions Master made his way to the door. A moment later, the clicking sound of metal followed, before the wooden door started to creak.
"Albus," Severus spoke, his drawl barely above a whisper, "what is the meaning of this?"
Being his usual unforthcoming self, the Headmaster ignored the question in favour of a question of his own, "Where is Harry?"
"Albus, would you please quiet down," the Potions Master hissed, "Harry is here of course. Where else would he be?"
"He is here?" Dumbledore asked incredulously, before footsteps echoed through the room, approaching the sofa, "why would he be here?"
"After such an eventful evening, this appears the only right place for him to be," Severus answered quietly, "after such a revelation."
"What kind of revelation?" Dumbledore asked sharply, his grandfatherly tone completely vanished, "what happened?"
"Did nobody at the Ministry tell you?" Severus asked, his voice laced with surprise and disbelief.
"Tell me what?" Dumbledore asked, assumingly staring at Harry's sleeping form given the proximity of his magical aura and the loudness of his words.
"Today during dinner, Peter Pettigrew was discovered in the Great Hall, posing as the pet rat of the youngest Weasley spawn," Severus explained, his voice void of any emotions, although Harry clearly could imagine the pained expression on the man's face despite having his eyes shut in feigned sleep, "we alarmed the Aurors and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Amelia Bones and Rufus Scrimgeour came here themselves. They immediately interrogated Pettigrew, administering Veritaserum. Pettigrew confessed everything. He was the Secret Keeper. He betrayed Lily and… James. Black… was innocent all along… They took Pettigrew to the Ministry immediately. As you can imagine, Harry was quite shaken by the events. As his Head of House and someone who was familiar with all of the involved, I offered to explain everything to Harry and… soothed him as best as I could. He has been sleeping for the past two to three hours after taking a vial of Dreamless Sleep."
Silence followed Severus' explanation, before Dumbledore audibly cleared his throat, "Harry has not been…"
"Has not been what?" Severus asked, his voice laced with sarcasm, "after everything he had to witness today, I think his reaction is only natural. What should he have done?"
Instead of answering, all that echoed through the Potions Master's private quarters were quick steps on the stone floor, the rustling of robes and the banging of the entrance door as the Headmaster stormed out of the dungeons to the forbidden corridor on the third floor.