Chapter 10: Setting the Record Straight
Harry walked at such a fast pace, Tracey struggled to catch up with him on their walk back to the castle. He huffed up a grassy hill. Stomping the grass flat and ignoring the path in his desire to run away.
"Harry! If you don't slow down, so help me!" she hollered.
It cut through the storm going on in his mind. Harry halted at the top of the hill, overlooking Hagrid's hut and the forest. The smell of grass brought him back to the Dursley garden.
"It's not over! The fuck! FUCK! FUCK!" he screamed with his head looking down and his eyes closed.
"Harry! You're hysterical! What have you figured out? Is You-Know-Who really alive?" Tracey grabbed Harry's arm but he shrugged her off.
"I don't know enough Tracey! I don't know what happened that night. I don't know what Dumbledore knows. But for sure Voldemort is alive!" Tracey gasped when Harry said Voldemort. "OH come off it! His name is the least of our problems! You're in danger, your family is in danger. Neville and his Gran are in danger. And now I don't have anywhere to go but Dumbledore, the stupid bastard who is KEEPING this essential information from me. FUCK! FUCK!"
Tracey hugged Harry from behind. "You're in danger too, you idiot! And I know you're keeping secrets from me too, hypocrite."
Harry felt like someone had stabbed his heart. He had manipulated his friends for the greater good, just like Dumbledore. He felt tears sting his eyes. He couldn't control his emotions.
"I'm sorry Tracey. I'm-"
She hugged him tighter. "You're not like that. I didn't notice until after Potions when Neville got a headache, Snape is a legilimens, isn't he? Maybe Dumbledore has a similar circumstance, but he should have at least leveled with you a little. What are you going to do?" Harry turned in Tracey's hug, she let go and stepped back with red cheeks. "Sorry," she muttered.
Harry found his center and cleared his mind, focusing himself for the problems at hand. Telling the Daily Prophet all of this was out of the question. He had no clout; he was not established even if he was famous. They'd sooner call him a conspiracy loon who needed guidance. They'd call anyone who said Voldemort was still alive a loon. Was he willing to strike back at Dumbledore?
# # #
The next day, bright and early, Harry walked to the Headmaster's Office without even going to breakfast. Professor Flitwick was waiting for him in front of a large Gargoyle statue, which must have been the entrance.
Flitwick greeted Harry, "Good morning. Are you sure you want to do this Harry? This could backfire on you horribly."
"Good morning to you Professor. Should I not respond?" asked Harry.
"You should be able to respond Harry, true. But the press is not known for being kind to their subjects." Flitwick paused. "Dumbledore is going to try and dissuade you as well. Are you sure you want to burn that bridge?"
Pained but determined, Harry responded, "It will be up to Dumbledore."
Flitwick nodded. "Raspberry Tongue Fizzles," he said. The gargoyle twisted into a spiral staircase which led upwards.
Harry forced his legs to move up them, following behind Flitwick. Torchlights lit up on the way up the windowless staircase, and at the end was a heavy wooden door that opened as Flitwick approached it.
Inside the Headmaster's Office was a visual delight. Dumbledore had so many unique and strange magical instruments on every available surface. There were portraits of the past headmasters covering the walls except for some small bookshelves, containing what Harry was sure was a rare collection. In between two bookshelves was a fireplace, where they were scheduled to floo from, to go to Daily Prophet Headquarters. There was also a large empty perch for a bird. The room smelt of vanilla, incense, and mahogany.
Dumbledore stood behind his desk, his face an unreadable mask. He was at least not smiling. Harry let Professor Flitwick greet Dumbledore.
Dumbledore began to speak heavily, "Filius I have asked you to bring Harry here early because I thought it best to have a discussion. To clear the air, and to dissuade you from your current course of action."
Harry remained silent. This was almost mean.
"Albus, Harry is well within his rights to respond to what was said about him. You allowed yourself and Severus a comment, this would be completely unnecessary if you had simply given Harry the choice. You didn't even give me the option, and I would have said nice things about the boy," said Flitwick.
"You cherry-picked Professor Snape, who I'm certain you know has issues with me, Headmaster. If you had told me, we could have coordinated a response. Because I would have certainly dissuaded you from your current course of action," Harry added.
Dumbledore shook his head. "The Prophet heard whispers of your living at the Cauldron. Professor Snape, as head of Slytherin House supporting my statements gave them far more weight. If the Ministry got involved, you could be thrown to the wolves Harry. Your involvement would have made the story much larger, and to be quite honest Harry, I heard whispers you were dissatisfied with our previous truce. I still intend to hold to our agreement, which we can have now if need be, seeing as it is in the middle of the school year."
Harry considered what Dumbledore said. It was plausible. Dumbledore didn't trust him any more than he trusted Dumbledore. He truly might have made a shot at the Headmaster if given the opportunity, to get out from under his thumb.
"There isn't a conversation to be had. I let it go at the time so I wouldn't have the most powerful Wizard in magical Britain breathing down my neck. The more I learn, the less interested I am in trusting you. There is so much you are keeping secret from me, and more still I haven't figured out. I won't leave anything in your hands, because I am certain you would do whatever you want without consulting me," Harry calmly laid out.
Dumbledore sat at his desk and clasped his hands. "I don't know what secrets you feel you are entitled to Harry. I am not required to reveal everything just because a child has a tantrum. I have been very patient with you. I could just as easily have sent you wherever I pleased. I didn't. Am I not consulting you now? Give me a bit more credit Harry." Flitwick glanced over to see Harry's reaction, but Harry kept his expression blank. "I'm also surprised at you Filius. You went behind my back on this. Don't think I don't know."
Harry cracked a smile, while Professor Flitwick was completely taken aback.
"Albus, I am only giving the boy a chance to speak. I really don't see how this is behind your back."
Dumbledore twirled his beard. "You have been helping Harry find housing outside of my knowledge. Don't deny it. Harry gives it away with his expression."
Flitwick glanced back at Harry again, who was smiling. "Albus, I haven't the slightest clue what you are talking about. Harry? Did you do something using my name perhaps?" He paused. "Is this the thing you apologized for yesterday?!"
"You're mistaken Headmaster, and no I did not use your name for anything Professor. Headmaster, how exactly did you come by this information?"
Flitwick scowled. "I would like to know as well Albus. You must be fairly confident to make such an accusation."
Dumbledore's mask finally broke into confusion, he opened his mouth and closed it multiple times.
"Found information is more reliable than given information, right Headmaster? Should you tell him, or should I?" Harry suggested.
"Albus! Tell me you did not sick Severus on the Longbottom boy!" Flitwick reproached.
"I did no such thing. I only asked Severus to keep an eye on things. He was a bit overzealous in following out my orders, and was chastised for it after," said Dumbledore.
"And you wonder why the boy doesn't trust you! Merlin Albus, I thought the boy abused and paranoid, but every time I turn around, he is proved correct! Right now, the first person accountable to Harry is me, not you! Why are you insisting on controlling where the boy goes at all? We are friends, are we not? I would have been happy to represent your interests would you have but asked! You always have an excuse, but there is a running theme here, isn't there?"
"Now Filius-"
"Now nothing! Harry, is there anything you want to add before we are off? I doubt the direction of this discussion has dissuaded you from going public. As much as I still think it unwise."
"Headmaster," Harry said, "Is there anything you wish to tell me? Anything at all?"
"Harry. You once acknowledged you were still but a child. Please, stay at Hogwarts. Make friends, play quidditch, read in a sunbeam if it pleases you. But act your age a little. I will reveal everything to you in time. If you are precocious in one thing, let it be your patience and wisdom in seeing the need for a childhood. Please. For the summers, I can compromise on some things within certain requirements—I'll talk to Severus. I don't underestimate you Harry, no doubt you have some plan for the press. However, I fear it will come at personal cost," Dumbledore warned.
"Might I be permitted to lose my temper a bit?" Harry asked evenly.
Dumbledore sighed in relief. "Yes. I'd hate to think you held back something and held further resentment that could have been resolved."
"My CHILDHOOD ended the moment I set foot in my Aunt and Uncle's house. I'm happy to try and have moments where I can just be a kid, but there is no requirement that I be kept in the dark. In fact, you make it much more difficult to enjoy those moments because of your manipulations and your secrets! Voldemort is alive! And you are focused on me?! I don't trust you, and I never WILL!"
The air shimmered with magic, almost like an earthquake, Dumbledore steadied himself in his chair, Flitwick braced himself against a table where some instruments might have been damaged. Immediately after yelling Harry withdrew his magic. A glass orb rolled off the table and shattered.
Both men stared at Harry with slightly impressed and aghast looks on their faces.
"I'm leaving Professors." Harry went to the fireplace and grabbed a fistful of powder from the floo box.
"I think it best I come with you Harry. Your outburst aside," Dumbledore weakly added.
"You couldn't possibly think I would agree!" Harry snapped.
"We aren't done Albus. Not by a longshot." Flitwick levitated the box of floo powder to his hands with the flick of his wand.
"Daily Prophet, Diagon Alley!" Harry yelled after throwing the powder into the fire.
# # #
What awaited Harry at the other end of the fireplace was a camera bulb flash right in his face. There was a gaggle of reporters with pads and quills, and multiple cameras pointed uncomfortably close pointed in a semicircle around a fireplace. Being blinded as he stumbled from the fire caused him to fall completely over, he caught himself just before his face hit the carpet. Harry felt his wrists throb. It was the cheap and thin carpet one would expect from an office, it smelled like it had just been spot cleaned.
One woman in the gaggle stepped out from the gaggle and brought her hand out, which Harry accepted to pull himself up. The others just stood there and took what must have been thirty pictures a second. Harry pushed down his annoyance and put on a smiling face.
"Well, I haven't quite figured out how to make an entrance yet. Your cameras tripped me up." Harry chuckled, and all of the reporters mimicked him exactly. "We should move away from the fire, Professor Flitwick was right behind me." Harry brushed himself off while creating some space for his Professor to land. When Flitwick came through, he stumbled just as Harry had done with the camera flashes in his face.
"We're all here! How wonderful!" the woman who had helped Harry up remarked in a shrill voice. She was a rail-thin woman of some height, with thick curly blonde hair which cascaded down her back. Her very long nails were colored hot pink, and she had a pair of spectacles that came apart at the nose around her neck with a beaded cord. Reporters began pelting Harry with odd questions, like what was his favorite candy. Harry ignored them and looked at the woman in front of him.
"You must be Miranda Quinn, a pleasure to meet you." Harry took her hand enthusiastically. "I must admit I'm not one for crowds. I leave the format in your hands though. Personal interview, presser… I do wish this weren't necessary." Harry looked down with a sorrowful expression.
Miranda looked around and smiled at the other reporters. "Johnson! Clear your photographers. We're going to my office. Harry says he's not much for crowds. COME ON PEOPLE, let's be professional."
"What is your relationship with a Ms. Davis Harry? Would you say she's a good friend?" asked a completely gaudy woman in the back.
"SKEETER! It's my interview, we'll see if Harry is up for a presser after our little talk," Miranda Quinn snapped and insisted in a sugary sweet voice. She grabbed Harry by the wrist and pulled him through the crowd. Out into the main office, which was a sea of cubicles.
"Harry, would you like me to come with you?" yelled Flitwick in a panic from behind the crowd.
Harry turned while still being pulled and cupped his hand to his mouth. "For the presser Professor. No comment for now please!"
There was a collective groan amongst the remaining reporters.
# # #
Miranda Quinn's office was a glass box in the corner of the space, after running through a cubicle maze Harry was certain was meant to disorient him. They walked in, and Miranda pulled down blinds so nobody could see in. She turned on some desk lights which Harry recognized as magical, and grabbed a chair from behind her desk. Harry took the seat across from her and she placed her chair next to his at a cattycorner.
"Harry Potter. The Harry Potter. When your Professor told me of your request to respond to our article, I wasn't sure what to think. Let's get to it! We are now on the record. You are free to tell me during the course of the interview anything you want off the record." He nodded. "Harry…" she reached for his hand affectionately. "How did you feel when you read our most recent article yesterday. I understand it was dropped on you suddenly at breakfast?"
Harry coughed and didn't shrug off the reporter's hand. "I wasn't given any forewarning, true. But when I found out I was famous some months ago, I was prepared for articles to be written about me. I only really became concerned when I read some of the quotes."
"Did you feel embarrassed, angry, upset?" The reporter squeezed his hand.
"Frustrated, Ms. Quinn. Is that how I should address you by the way?"
"Miranda is fine."
"I felt frustrated because… I feel like the whole world is deciding what's going to happen to me, and nobody is asking for my input. Dumbledore and I get along fine. I even celebrated my birthday with him, but…" Harry trailed off as if he didn't want to say.
"It's okay dear, you can say it off the record," Miranda said with a jackal-like grin.
"No. I have to say it on record. It's like this: he gave me an invisibility cloak for my birthday. I haven't used it once, I only kept it because it was my father's." Harry chocked slightly, he forced tears to his eyes using the anger from before. "And then I'm told I need more supervision? That I'm passively rebellious? This is a mixed message at best! Why? Because I wanted to keep my only friends in the whole world? Because I like to read advanced magic textbooks? The only Professor I've had an issue with is Professor Snape. And he's the only Professor quoted."
Miranda scribbled furiously on her pad. "What issue is that Harry?"
"When I first came into class, he singled me out for questioning. I was happy at first. I thought it was his way, you know how some tough teachers are. I studied especially hard for Potions because I knew of his reputation, I was excited. As the class went on, it was clear I had offended him somehow. I did what any good student would do, I approached him after class to make sure there wasn't an issue. He said I was pompous and entitled like my father. I have done nothing but perfect potions in class, I have never talked back. I even explained about my family circumstances to him—which I'm sure was the source for the article you wrote."
"I can imagine it would be frustrating to be told you were pompous coming from the circumstances you did. Magical law is very restricted in its ability to handle your muggle relatives." Miranda rubbed Harry's hand with her thumb. "This is very much unprecedented legally. Harry, what would you want to happen with your relatives and family situation? What is your ideal outcome? Dumbledore calls for the Ministry to grant him complete guardianship more or less. He is your magical guardian."
"I should have been taken from my mother's sister ages ago. I'm happy for that to happen. But it happened in the muggle world, let it stay in the muggle world. My place is here. Dumbledore is great, but I don't want him to be able to veto who I can stay with. I'm friends with Slytherins. If he had control over my guardianship, can you say he would allow it? He feels so horrible about my treatment, I think he would prefer I be put in a padded room. There's too much there. To the Ministry I say, don't grant Dumbledore complete custody over me! Please. I have enough money from the Black inheritance to cover my expenses, and my friends Tracey and Neville's family have both agreed to have me visit occasionally through the summers."
Miranda took her hand away from Harry as if she had been shocked. "You have money from Black? How is that possible? I believe… it should go to Narcissa Malfoy, right? Sirius Black, curse his name, is imprisoned for life in Azkaban. And any connection to the Potter family is too far removed to qualify you."
"Sirius Black is my godfather. He is not imprisoned for life; he never received a trial. And he gave me the Black inheritance the night he was supposed to have betrayed my parents. It's possible he felt guilty. I would like him to get a trial under Veritaserum. If he's guilty, then the Black inheritance can go to Lucius Malfoy, and I can have closure, for my parents. I'll recompense Mr. Malfoy what I have taken from the Potter vault. Dumbledore has ignored my requests; I think he doesn't want Mr. Malfoy to have access to the money."
Miranda jumped out of her seat, and hugged Harry. "You are a good boy! A very good boy! Giving up an inheritance like the Black one, all for closure and justice for what should be your enemies!"
"Wouldn't Dumbledore have access to the Black fortune if he were my guardian?" Harry asked innocently, pretending it had just dawned on him.
# # #
The next morning, Harry waited patiently for the papers to arrive with Neville and Tracey next to him at the Ravenclaw table. When the owls came, they held hands under the table. Neville was breathing heavily. They were about to find out if the gambit worked. Hedwig swooped down and dropped the heavy Sunday special addition.
The Plot Thickens: Out of the Mouth of Babes
When Harry Potter himself felt the need to correct the record, we at the Daily Prophet were more than willing to oblige him. And correct the record he did! A story that has already taken up a whole paper, now must take multiple! To properly cover this story, we have decided to cover Harry's actual life at Hogwarts in Monday's edition with more stories sure to follow. The interview so extensive and with such far-reaching implications, you won't want to miss one word of it! If you want to consider yourself informed on the happenings of the Wizarding World, this is a must-read.
Plots and political intrigue surrounding fortunes, new revelations on Sirius Black, Professors with longstanding grudges, and a boy at the center of all of it. A boy thrown into our world, and managing to stay afloat despite the multiple undercurrents threatening to swallow him whole! I can say, without a doubt, this interview may be one of the most significant pieces of journalism in modern magical history…
Harry put down the paper. He hadn't even mentioned Voldemort, or dumped on Dumbledore in any meaningful way. Lucius Malfoy not moving for a trial for Sirius Black was the most convincing reason for Harry to believe Sirius could be innocent. It would all be worth it if Sirius Black could be freed, Harry decided he would write to the Minister to completely outmaneuver Malfoy. It was fantastic because Lucius Malfoy couldn't openly oppose him without looking amazingly ungrateful or foolish.
Everyone in the Great Hall had a copy and was pouring over the Prophet interview. The only face looking up was Harry's and Professor Quirrell's. The normally stuttering Professor had no interest in the newspaper, odd for such a jumpy man, Harry thought he'd look out for every potential shadow.
"A complete reversal," Tracey remarked disbelievingly.
"You didn't dump on Dumbledore too hard," Neville said.
"He'll see I pulled my punches. I got what I wanted without abandoning any pretense of cordiality. Most people will read between the lines, but the perception will remain positive on the surface."
Professor Snape threw down the paper at the head table, his expression was livid. The greasy man stomped towards Harry's place at the Ravenclaw table while everyone watched. He stopped when he was hovering above Harry.
"Think you're clever, do you? You are a child out of his depth, and in desperate need of a firm hand. You've made a mistake that will haunt you for seven years Potter!" Snape raged. "I'll see you in class, Longbottom!" He stormed off.
Harry clenched his fists, but did not respond. Snape was behaving like an immature schoolboy with a grudge. At the head table, Dumbledore pretended he didn't see anything; Harry narrowed his eyes.
# # #
True to form, for the next few weeks, Snape was an absolute nightmare in class. Vanishing Harry's potions to give him zeros for the day, terrorizing Neville, and even turning on Tracey. Slytherin was split, but they began to bully her a few weeks in. They took her books and her clothing. In Potions, Snape would taunt Harry about how Tracey and Neville were so forgetful. Harry didn't respond, not even once. It got so bad, Harry turned to Flitwick for help, but the man could do nothing. Dumbledore was looking the other way.
Harry refused to move from the Slytherin table though. He sat defiantly with Tracey, as they talked amongst themselves. Pansy wasn't even at the center of it, it was Draco Malfoy. The cowardice built-in from the train humiliation, all but forgotten. He would loudly tell stories of Tracey and Neville being humiliated in Potions.
Neville had turned into a hero again. His worst subject now had an explanation, Severus Snape. And Neville for all his nerves, became less and less bothered by Snape's threatening demeanor. Neville was completely bolstered by his house who saw him as a martyr.
There also began to be a bit of friction between Neville and Tracey. After a Potions class in the last week of October, Harry came across Tracey blowing up at Neville. He wanted to meet them during a free period.
"It's not my fault Tracey. He's just sabotaging us relentlessly."
"Neville! YOU messed up the solution! You don't even care anymore! Snape hardly had to do anything!"
"He was going to fail us anyway, w-why do you care?" Neville retorted.
"I WANT TO LEARN THIS NEVILLE! AND IF IT'S NOT HIM IT'S YOU MESSING SOMETHING UP! I need a break! We're switching partners. If I'm going to be sabotaged, let me be sabotaged. Maybe Snape will go after us less if we're not together."
Harry coughed.
"Oh, hi Harry," Neville said, tears in his eyes. "I was just going." He ran away.
"Did you hear all of that?" Tracey asked, "He's not even trying, I swear Harry. I'm not trying to cause problems between us. Snape is driving me batty."
"It's okay Trace, we'll let him cool down. Thank you… this is all because of me…"
"He had a target on us the moment we became friends, he's only gotten more vindictive about it. I'm mad at Dumbledore, not you," Tracey rolled her eyes. "You'll figure out something."
# # #
The next day was Halloween, and Harry's busiest day of the week, ending with Potions. It was the day of his parent's death, and something about having a feast didn't appeal to Harry. He didn't have particularly strong feelings about his parents, but it seemed bad form to celebrate on the day of their death. Maybe one year he could be permitted to visit their graves on this day.
It was with this gloomy attitude that Harry walked into his Potions class. Susan Bones, like a true Hufflepuff, had remained his lab partner in spite of it tanking their grades. Something about her calmed Harry, and let him do what he needed to do.
Snape walked in with an even gloomier mood this day. He glared at Harry even more fiercely than usual.
"Potter, don't look at me like that. Ten points from Ravenclaw!" Snape snapped.
"Yes Professor," Harry replied in monotone.
"Open your books to page 274! Today we're doing something a little more complex. Something the likes of clumsy people such as Ms. Davis and Mr. Longbottom are incapable of doing," Snape flashed yellow teeth and kept his eyes on Harry. Harry felt a probe on his mind, he cleared it.
"Potter! I said open your books, not close your eyes! Twenty points from Ravenclaw!"
"Yes Professor," Harry replied again robotically.
"You are spineless, just like your father! Is that all you ever respond with? No. You're at least smarter, you keep your head down. You'll probably live longer for it."
The class got very quiet, this was a departure from Snape's usual nastiness, which had already been ramped up after he was attacked in the paper. Some of the girls in the class put their hands to their mouths and teared up.
Harry said nothing. He let the white-hot rage build, and then calmed it once more.
"At least you have a chance of passing. I think your dunderhead friends will probably fail out of their first year of potions. How humiliating for them."
"If you fail them, I will end your teaching career," Harry threatened.
"Detention for your mouthing off Potter! You DARE threaten a teacher. Something you inherited from your father no doubt. Pompous fool that he was!"
Harry smiled and shrugged. He had detention. If he was going to dispute it anyway, he might as well go all in. He had gotten some information from Hagrid recently which proved enlightening. "My father was better than you in every way. You were so transparently praising of my mother in that article, does this really boil down to jealousy?"
Everything was quiet; Snape shook with rage. "I'm going to get you expelled Potter! Come with me! Everyone else STAY PUT!"
Harry was picked up by his robes and marched to the Headmaster's Office. Harry barely had the time to see the route Snape had taken him when they stopped suddenly in front of the Gargoyle.
"LEMON DROPS!" Snape screamed at the Gargoyle.
"Yeesh, don't yell at me," the gargoyle complained as it moved out of the way, revealing a spiral staircase.
Harry followed slowly behind Snape, who flew up the stairs into Dumbledore's office. By the time Harry got to the top, Snape was already making demands.
"I want Potter expelled, NOW Albus!"
Albus Dumbledore was feeding his phoenix calmly. "Sit down, the both of you." He moved behind his desk and summoned two chairs for Snape and Harry to sit. "I grow tired of this, from both of you. Severus, I have heard one too many complaints about you. There will not be any expelling, I suspect Mr. Potter would have you sacked, and be able to reverse the decision."
"How can you-" Snape protested.
"I will get the students to believe they saw a hallucination, brought on by potion fumes, using the Confundus charm. I know what today means to both of you. I think it better if we excuse this particular incident. I also think Harry has been patient enough, don't you think Severus? Your behavior is now indefensible, and I NEED you around. I can't protect you anymore. If you keep this up, I'll have to call up Horace," the air smelled like ozone. Dumbledore was truly enraged. "Harry, were it on any other day, regardless of the way Professor Snape behaved, you would be in detention for the foreseeable future."
"My friends are failing because he is sabotaging their learning. Not to mention very suddenly the whole of Slytherin house is bullying Tracey. If his offenses aren't worth a sacking, then my words aren't even worth are warning."
Dumbledore's forehead pulsed lightly. "The grades will be erased. Severus, this is twice you have put me in jeopardy with your behavior. You are beginning to be a liability rather than an asset, and that is saying quite a lot. Harry, Professor Snape serves as an essential spy. He will ignore you; you will ignore him. You have my word this will stop. I'm sorry it took so long to respond. I have been very busy, and I was only recently aware of the grades which I naturally would not have allowed to stand."
Harry bowed. "Thank you for being transparent with me. If you protect my friends from him, you have my word I will go back to ignoring what he says."
Snape looked as though a vein would burst in his head, but he kept silent.