Chapter 21: Potter's Press
On a Friday evening, nearly two weeks after the Quidditch match, Hedwig appeared at the window of the Gryffindor Common Room, a rectangular package tied to her leg.
Harry rose from his place on one of the couches and went to the window, letting Hedwig flutter into the room and settle on his arm. He carried her back to his seat, placing her gently on top of his pile of homework.
He untied the package from her leg and carefully tore off the dull brown paper. The first thing he noticed was his own face, staring up at him from the glossy cover of a magazine.
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, noticing what Harry was holding.
"That must be the advance copy of Magical Monthly. Ms. Clerihew said she would send you one!"
Harry didn't know what he'd been expecting, but this certainly wasn't it. The cover was dominated by a large image of his own face, eyes blazing and mouth set in a determined line.
"I told her to reach out to Colin if she needed pictures," Hermione said, sheepishly.
"I think that one is from a Founders' League meeting."
Harry looked back at the cover. He hardly recognized the person staring back at him. There was a fierce conviction in those green eyes, burning straight through him.
"It's a great picture," Ron breathed, sounding slightly surprised.
"You look really…"
"Brave," George supplied.
Harry was surprised to find that he agreed with George. The Harry Potter in that picture did look brave. He looked like a leader. Harry didn't even know he could look like that.
"Merlin, look at what it says!" Neville exclaimed.
Harry, who had been distracted by the photograph, finally noticed the words spread across the top of the magazine.
LORD VOLDEMORT HAS RETURNED: Harry Potter's True Story and Why the Ministry is Determined to Cover it Up.
Harry took in a gasping breath. He hadn't expected the magazine to come down so firmly on his side. They had even printed Voldemort's name instead of using a stupid nickname like You-Know-Who.
"This is amazing!" Hermione gushed.
"This magazine is really credible. I think a lot of people will start to question things after they read this. Let's see what's inside!"
Harry flipped opened the cover, surprised when a folded note slid out onto his lap. He unfolded the paper and read.
Harry,
I cannot tell you how inspiring your interview was. I hope that this magazine helps people understand your story. You are a very courageous young man.
The magazine will be coming out on Monday morning. We're expecting quite a response from the public. Because you're at school, I've arranged for any mail directed to you at Hogwarts to be sent to our office. I'll keep it safe for you, and you can come look at it at any time.
Wishing you all the best,
Belle Clerihew
P.S. I've included something in this issue that should help your godfather. I hope he wins his freedom soon.
With shaking hands Harry handed the note to Hermione who read it aloud to the rest of his friends.
"There's something about Sirius in there?" Ron asked, confused.
"I guess?" Harry murmured.
"I don't really remember what I said in the interview."
Hermione gave him a kind smile.
"You told her about Wormtail, Harry. She was confused about it because Pettigrew is supposed to be dead. That's when you told her that Sirius was innocent and that he hadn't had a trial."
"Can you…can you tell me what's in here? I'm too nervous to look."
Hermione nodded, gently taking the magazine from his trembling hands. She flipped open the cover and studied the opening pages for several moments.
"It starts with a transcript of your interview. It's all the stuff you and Viktor said about the maze and then everything that happened in the graveyard."
Harry nodded, he'd been expecting that. Hermione turned more pages.
"Then they have an article on Barty Crouch Jr. and how he was impersonating Mad-Eye. It goes into how he put your name into the Goblet of Fire and how he was the one to make the Portkey."
She flipped further.
"Oh my! They even managed to interview Mad-Eye! He corroborates the story!"
She continued, skimming the pages quickly as she went.
"Then she writes about how the Ministry has tried to discredit you. She even has the transcript from your hearing!"
Hermione looked gleeful.
"This makes Fudge look like such a fool!"
"He does that all by himself," Fred muttered under his breath.
Hermione flipped another page, then stopped, taking in a gasping breath.
"Oh, Harry! Look!"
She turned the magazine toward him.
Sirius Black Innocent: The True Story of October 31, 1981, and the Man who Paid for it.
Harry felt his heart skip a beat.
"It tells the whole story! I told her about it after you left. Oh my…she looked through all the records in his case. They never checked his wand, they never even questioned him! He was thrown right to the Dementors. Harry, this might be enough for him to get a trial!"
Harry tried not to get his hopes up. He so wanted Sirius to be free, but life never seemed to give him what he wanted.
"It mentions us as well!"
"Us?" Harry asked, unsure of who she meant.
"It talks about that night in Third Year. How we tried to tell the Minister and how he didn't believe us. Oh…it mentions Snape as well. I told her how he wouldn't listen to us. He doesn't come off looking too good."
"Great," Harry muttered.
"Another reason for him to hate me."
A sudden spike of fear went through Harry's chest.
"Does it say that Sirius is an Animagus?"
"No, it doesn't. It just says that Wormtail is."
Harry let out a sigh of relief. It could be very dangerous for Sirius if the whole Wizarding World suddenly knew about his Animagus Form.
"Oh my," Hermione said, her voice suddenly sounding choked.
"Look at this picture…"
She turned it toward him. It was a picture of Sirius with his father. They looked to be around Harry's age. The resemblance between him and his father really was uncanny. They were both smiling, Sirius' arm draped around James' shoulder. They looked happy.
"And this one."
She turned the page again. This picture was clearly taken a few years later, probably after they'd graduated.
It was a picture of Sirius and his mother. The photographic Lily was shaking her head at Sirius in mock disapproval as he gestured his hands wildly. Harry could imagine exactly what they were talking about. Sirius was probably telling her about the prank he'd just pulled.
"and t-this."
She sounded like she was about to cry. It took only a moment for Harry to understand why.
The Sirius in this picture looked to be around twenty. He was smiling widely, grinning at the baby cradled in his arms. A baby with a shock of black hair and enormous green eyes.
"It's…"
Harry couldn't finish his sentence. He reached out a finger, tracing the lines of Sirius' face, wishing they could go back to that moment and change everything.
Ron put his arm around Harry in an uncharacteristic display of physical affection. Harry appreciated it. Ron's closeness stopped him from falling apart.
"She must have gotten these pictures from Remus," Hermione speculated, voice still shaking.
"There's only one more section, I think."
Harry heard her gasp.
"What?" He asked, wondering what on Earth could be more surprising than that last article.
"It looks like she got more pictures from Colin," Hermione whispered, turning the magazine toward him.
It was a two-page spread of photos. The title shook him to his core:
The Real Harry Potter.
It was a collage of his best moments at Hogwarts. It showed him laughing with Ron and Hermione, tutoring Claire in the Library, training with the Quidditch Team. There was one that showed him with Blaise and Neville, chasing after a piece of parchment that had blown away. There was one of him battling the Horntail, the fire just missing his robes, his face set in a determined mask. His favorite was one that showed him in the Common Room, surrounded by his friends, a huge grin on his face.
"It shows people that you're a student, a person. You have friends, passions. You're not a maniac who deserves to be slandered."
Neville was exactly right.
"These are great," Fred said.
"But I think we might need to talk to Colin about privacy."
That got a laugh from everyone.
"Maybe he just has a crush on you," Hermione said, thoughtfully.
"He better not," George muttered under his breath, clearly not expecting anyone else to hear.
Everyone turned to stare at him.
"I just mean because…it's creepy to take pictures of someone you like…stalkerish…"
"Very smooth, Georgie," Fred teased.
George threw a quill at him.
"Anyway," George said, trying to change the subject.
"I think this magazine is going to convince a lot of people that you've been telling the truth."
"I hope you're right," Harry whispered, still staring at the pictures, wondering if he'd done enough.
By the time Monday morning arrived, Harry was having trouble keeping himself sane. He knew that he'd done the right thing, but he was still nervous to see the reactions his story would get.
He procrastinated going to the Great Hall, hoping that he could avoid the crowds.
That was a mistake.
As soon as he entered, nearly every head in the Hall turned to stare at him. He had never realized how many students read Magical Monthly.
Students were clustered in little pods, craning their necks to read from their friends' copies.
Harry tried to hold his head high, striding to the Gryffindor table and sliding in beside his friends.
He put a bit of food on his plate, trying to ignore the unnatural silence permeating the Hall. He had never heard Hogwarts this quiet.
The silence was suddenly broken by muffled sobbing. Harry turned toward the Ravenclaw table, already knowing what he would see.
Cho Chang was sitting there, clutching the magazine in her hands, tears pouring down her face.
Harry felt his heart contract painfully, wishing that he could have spared her this pain.
Her tear-filled eyes met his. She suddenly stood, the magazine still clutched to her chest.
She was coming toward him. Harry felt his body stiffen. Why was she coming here?
Maybe she had finally realized that he'd let her boyfriend die?
She arrived at the table, sliding into the bit of empty space next to him. Hermione moved over to accommodate her. For a moment, she just stared at him.
"Cho," He said, tentatively.
"I'm…"
Before he could finish, he felt himself being pulled into a hug. She was holding onto him so tightly he thought his ribs might crack.
"Thank you…Thank you…" She whispered into his neck, her voice still filled with tears.
Harry hugged her back, letting himself accept her thanks even though he didn't deserve it.
She finally pulled away, wiping her eyes and offering him a shaky smile. She stood up, clearly about to head back to the Ravenclaw table. At the last moment, she paused, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek.
"Thank you, Harry," she said again.
All Harry could do was nod, stunned by her gesture.
It was only then that he noticed that the entire school was staring at him, teachers included. He caught Professor McGonagall's eye. She was smiling at him, pride clear in her expression. He smiled back at her.
He was just about to turn his attention back to his food when he made the mistake of looking at Umbridge. He expected to find her glaring at him. He expected anger or disgust. What he got was far worse.
She was smiling at him. A sick, demented, smile that made him suddenly very nauseous. Her message was clear: he was going to pay for this.
Harry was not at all surprised when she stopped him just outside the Great Hall. He was not at all surprised when he was given detention.
He was surprised when he entered her office and found a different quill waiting for him. Where the old one had been black, this one was red—the color of fresh blood. He sat down at the table, waiting for Umbridge to tell him to begin writing.
"As you can see, I've modified the quill a little bit for you. I didn't feel that the old one was imparting the lesson as well as it should have."
Harry picked up the quill, examining it with growing trepidation. What was it going to do to him?
"Go on, dear."
He set the quill to parchment, steeling himself for whatever was about to come.
I must not tell nasty, attention-seeking lies.
He couldn't hold back a cry of pain. The cuts on his arm were already re-opening, just like they always did. The difference was that the words were being written twice. The first time, they were being carved, blood already spilling down his arm. The second time, right on top of the cuts, they were being branded.
The words were being written twice over, once in blood and once in fire.
Umbridge was suddenly grabbing his arm, examining it. It looked terrible. The open wounds were still there, but they were surrounding by a ring of raised, burned skin.
"It's working beautifully! I was worried the branding would make the message look fuzzy, but it hasn't! I wouldn't want you to forget your lesson, after all."
Harry stared at her, horror filling him. She was insane.
"Y-you can't do this," He spat at her, hating how his voice shook.
"Oh, but I can."
She walked to her desk, pulled out a parchment, and set it down in front of him.
It was a Certificate of Termination for Arthur Weasley. She had already signed it.
"Keep writing or I'll send that straight to the Ministry. I know money is tight for the Weasley family. I can only imagine how terrible it would be for your friends if their father lost his job."
Harry shook his head. She had gone too far.
"Keep writing."
He didn't know what to do. He had never felt more like a child. He picked up the quill.
I must not tell nasty, attention-seeking lies.
The pain was so much worse. He had grown used to the cuts. He could handle that.
The burns were a different matter.
Merlin, it hurt.
He continued to write, trying to ignore the scent of burning flesh that began to mix with the perfumed air of her office.
"I'll tell," he choked out.
"Even you c-can't get away with this."
She just smiled at him, looking like a toad who had just caught a very juicy fly.
"You'll tell them what, Dear?"
"That you're making me…"
His voice died. He couldn't speak.
He tried again.
"That you're making me write lines in…."
He couldn't do it.
The words wouldn't come.
She was right in front of him again.
"You know, Harry…"
He shuddered as she touched his cheek, brushing away the tears of pain that had fallen down his face.
"I'm rather good at certain types of magic. Especially the kind of magic that ensures silence. When you speak of these detentions, all you'll be able to say is that I'm making you write lines in my own ink. I, of course, don't want you wasting your own ink in detentions. That wouldn't be fair."
Harry shook his head. She was sick.
"I'm also rather good at Compulsion spells you'll find. You should be feeling the effects any second now."
She was right. He was itching to keep writing with the quill. He WANTED to write with it.
He picked it up again, his hands shaking so badly he could barely hold it.
I must not tell nasty, attention-seeking lies.
I must not tell nasty, attention-seeking lies.
I must not tell nasty, attention-seeking lies.
"You're a monster."
His voice broke on the words, unable to disguise his agony.
She caressed his cheek again, her hands cold against his skin.
"No, Harry, I'm not. I'm helping you. Someday, you'll understand that."
Umbridge only kept him for two hours, letting him go just after 7.
It didn't matter.
Two hours was more than enough.
Harry had experienced pain before, many times. Nothing compared to this.
He stumbled his way to the Room of Requirement, relying mostly on muscle memory. When he arrived, he asked the room for a Potions lab.
As quickly as he could with his injured arm, he brewed a batch of Burn-Healing Paste, cooling it with a spell before spreading it onto his arm.
He could barely hold back his screams as he touched the abused flesh. Once he had covered the wound, he bandaged it and pulled his sleeve down. He bottled the rest of the paste, knowing he would need it again before long.
He was a fool.
He should have told someone about Umbridge before. Now, he couldn't.
He was such a fool.
He tried to remind himself of all the reasons he was doing this: to protect his friends, to protect Mr. Weasley. The reminders were hollow comforts, offering him nothing.
He knew that Umbridge would fall eventually, but he didn't know if he could survive this torture until that happened.
He kicked his bag in frustration, sliding down the wall of the Room of Requirement, cradling his arm against his chest.
His kick had let his bag fall open, the copy of Magical Monthly sliding out onto the floor. He stared at the brave face on the front cover, struggling to believe that it was really him.
But it was him.
That picture had been taken during a Founders' League meeting sometime in the past month or so. That meant that it was probably taken during the time when he had stopped sleeping, drowning in his terror.
There was no sign of fear in this photograph.
Maybe that was enough? Maybe he could exist like this photograph, a snapshot of bravery, concealing the pain beneath.
He turned to the article on Sirius, staring at his godfather and his parents, happy and alive. They had no idea what was coming.
His parents had never had the chance to live. His friends still had that chance. Harry would endure anything if it meant they could survive this war.
If that meant being tortured into insanity by Umbridge…
He would do it.
He pushed himself to his feet, making sure to pull his sleeve down to cover the bandages. His pain wasn't important. Not really.
He made it back to the Common Room, trying to look happy.
It was fairly late. The Common Room was deserted but for George who always liked to wait up for him after detentions.
"Hey George!"
Harry slid onto the couch across from him, pulling out his neglected homework.
"Hi. Detention alright?"
"Yeah. Just lines."
The words were forced from his mouth against his will. Umbridge hadn't been kidding. She was very good at Compulsion spells.
They worked in silence, not needing to speak.
Harry was just about to pack up his things and head to bed when his scar began to burn. He couldn't disguise his gasp of pain, letting his books fall to the floor.
"Harry?"
George sounded worried. Harry tried to reassure him, but his voice didn't work.
Reality was bending around him.
He was in a dark room. A shaking figure kneeling at his feet.
"Harry! Look at me!"
Hands were on his face. He could barely feel them.
"You have failed me, Wormtail!"
His voice was harsh. Cold.
"I'm s-sorry M-master. I was not able to retrieve it…it's not possible."
"Do not tell me what is impossible! For Lord Voldemort everything is possible!"
"Of course…Forgive me."
"Please, Harry. Snap out of it!"
George's voice was full of fear. Harry hated the sound of it.
"Apologies are not enough! CRUCIO."
Screams filled his ears.
The images collapsed, sending him back to his own mind. He drew in shaky breaths, finally taking in his surroundings. George was in front of him, holding his face, desperation in his eyes.
"George," he croaked, his voice weak.
"Harry, are you okay? What the hell was that?"
"I'm not sure."
He had seen Voldemort in dreams before, but never while awake.
"You're bleeding."
George's hand brushed over his forehead, coming back stained with blood.
"Yeah, it happens sometimes."
"This has happened before? Did you tell anyone?"
Harry's silence gave George his answer.
"Harry, you can't hide stuff like this! This is serious!"
Harry kept his head down, ashamed. If George was angry about his, Harry couldn't even imagine what he'd be like when he found out about the detentions.
"I'm sorry."
George sighed.
"It's okay. Just, please tell someone about stuff like this in the future, okay?"
"Okay."
He was such a liar. Maybe Umbridge was right about him.
"You should go to bed. Can you stand?"
Harry nodded, pulling himself to his feet. He gathered his stuff, heading toward the stairs.
"Harry?"
George's voice called him back.
"Yeah?"
George looked torn. He was biting his lower lip, an unusually serious look on his face.
"Please get help if you're hurt. I c-couldn't bear it if anything happened to you."
Harry nodded, turning away quickly so George couldn't see the look on his face.
Would George hate him if he knew that Harry was lying to his face?
Harry wouldn't blame him if he did.
A/N: Umbridge is human garbage. Don't worry, she definitely isn't going to make it to the end of the school year...I have plans for her *laughs maniacally*
Thank you to everyone who has commented, liked, followed, or read! I really love hearing from you guys!
Next chapter coming WEDNESDAY!
I was hoping to update 3 times a week, but college this semester is hard! I'm going to be doing twice a week (Wednesdays and Saturdays)!
Thanks for reading!