A/N:
Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. This story decided to hide from me for a bit and the muse sent three new other ones in it's place. It was a struggle making this chapter even this coherent. So, if you find errors or deviations from it's base thought lines or tone, reign me back in and let me know where exactly I err?
It would be lovely to hear from y'all, even if you don't really enjoy what I write here. Don't forget to tell me what I should do with the Silly Dumbles or the Waste Disposal Weasley or the Granger kid?
On an aside, this story isn't my personal opinions. Nor do I own any rights to the HP franchise. It's called fan-fiction for a reason. Stories in this platform owe no allegiance or obligations to stay true to canon if the fanfic writers feel differently. Its a lot of hard work and effort contributed by fans for no profit whatsoever except personal satisfaction.
Aaaaaand... I'm done with being a distraction.
Enjoy the chapter and let me know what y'all think of it! Toodles!
CHAPTER 12: PUMPKINS, TROLLS AND SOURED PLANS.
The castle had been urging Harry and Neville to clean house and start with the Forbidden forest. They had sent a house elf as an emissary to the Centaur Clan of the Hogsmeade Forbidden Forest Territory within, for permission to meet and greet.
It had taken a week of gifts and waiting for the stars to align but at the end of a nearly frustrating waiting, the two had gone into the forest one night and negotiated with Magorian and Firenze. Bane, who had been chomping at the bits to move from out of his Father, Magorian's shadow, had agreed to join selected creatures at the Potter Sanctuary and move fully out of reach of human magical beings. A mutually rewarding enterprise where both parties felt rather fulfilled.
The first to move out of the Forbidden Forest had been the Unicorns. Firenze had talked of a being so vile that it hunted the purest of them all for a bloodthirsty appetite. Where, once up on a time, living in such close proximity of a school for the young ones meant safety, security, joy and learning, now it was fraught with darkness and danger. The snidget and bowtruckle population had split up as well, with most of them preferring to move to greener and safer pastures.
A pack of niffleburters, cruppies, gryphons, thestrals and the hippogryph herd as well had decided to make their nests in the Sanctuary. As soon as Bane and his new clan members had settled in, Harry and Neville had taken to sending them any possible resources and creatures in an eager attempt to encourage them all to be comfortable in their homes.
The two boys also continued to wander the forest premises as often as they could manage, searching for the acromantula colony. It had been a shock to hear about them from Magorian. The Centaur Clan chief had been adamant that the critters had to go and at the earliest possible time but couldn't offer proper guidance or counsel. The very idea of an unchecked colony of Acromantula breeding right next to a school full of tender young prey was a nightmare in the making.
Despite being aware and sitting over the prospects of nearly half a century of this problem growing out of proportion, Dumbledore had been doing absolutely nothing to ensure the ecological balance in the forest or tackle safety issues for the school, either. Instead he had done far too much to weaken the school's own defence mechanisms by deactivating many wards and attempting to control the phoenix bonded to the school, inadvertently turning the basilisk guarding the school from under ground, utterly insane.
This was another failure squarely placed on the old man's shoulders. As the founder's heirs, Harry, Neville and Luna had a responsibility and were duty bound to do all they could - The Forest was once Enchanted Forest, not forbidden. It was up to them to restore that part of their heritage home to its former glory. And that was simply just one more aim to add to their growing list.
The Newspaper had been an instant hit and the house elves were being inundated with requests, advert-space and tidbits of interesting notices, birthdays and even secret love notes. Magical crossword puzzles developed by Selene and Luna had become a hit for students and teachers alike, as had Gran Augusta's little snippets of historic events, laws and clauses.
Even Snape seemed to find the little potions cluedo game episode intriguing and had included the first edition's clue to his lessons. The tiny column of a story series, developed by Daphne, contributed unwittingly by Hagrid's random discourses on the creatures in and around the campus was well received and students eagerly discussed what would happen next in the series.
It frustrated Harry that the Wizengamot news wasn't an active topic of discussions but Susan, Neville and Daphne had shushed him and advocated for patience. But unwilling to let it slide, Harry wanted to write and raise certain issues and rattle some chains. All of those plans would be put on hold with the shock from the secrets revealed by the castle on the Halloween day.
The day had started innocuously enough.
As always for the past eight years, Harry would spend the day brooding. At first it had been disconcerting to realize that he hadn't really known anything about his parents. Living with the Dursleys, it had been a triumph to simply get them to acknowledge his name as opposed to being referred to as the boy or freak. All his focus had been on survival, gauging their moods, scoring enough food to keep from stomach cramps and getting to stay clean.
It wasn't until he had met Hagrid that he discovered more than his surname and his mother's name. Finding out that they died on Halloween night, protecting him had been a slow burning fire. He had started to miss them without really understanding what he was missing.
Watching Aunt Selene and Uncle Xeno had been a revelation. Aunt Amy, Uncle Cyril and even Gran Augusta and Grandfather had been kind but distant and firm. Cuddles, teasing, laughter and horseplay hadn't come instantly with those elders. But Aunt Selene and Uncle Xeno had been a barrel of laughs. They had unreservedly included Harry, Neville, Susan, Daphne and Astoria into their circle.
Each of the kids who had lost one parent or two, had been absorbed into that mish-mashed family. Even the other elders had been dragged in. each of them had taken up a role for the children: Aunt Cassie had become the story teller. Selene the Mother. Uncle Xeno had been the fun uncle for roughhousing, romping and wild adventures. Aunt Amy had become the counselor. Gran had become the rule enforcer. Uncle Cyril, the tutor and Grandfather, the standard by which everyone modelled their own behavior and manners.
Harry however, had always felt the closest to Grandfather, Aunt Cassie and Aunt Selene. Susan had become his first friend and Neville the brother he always wanted. Daphne was cool and fun one to hang out with and Harry would lay down his life to protect Luna and Stori. They were his family, no matter his parents weren't alive or around.
But no matter how hard Ciri had tried, Harry had continued to remain polite, affectionate and even friendly but rather unattached to him. When Harry and Neville had once talked about marriage and kids, they had promised to stand as godfather to each other's first child. Neville had explained the significance of a Godfather in the magical world and how it had been the muggles who had taken that concept into their lives.
Harry had been hurt to know that his godfather had not taken him seriously enough to stay; the man had easily enough handed a helpless, newly orphaned baby to a stranger and hared off after revenge. Having experienced the ethos of being a Black, and basking in the affections of a rigid, old fashioned grandfather, Harry couldn't blithely forgive the irreverent way Ciri seemed to dismiss his duties and responsibilities.
So Harry woke up in a foul mood, his mind throbbing with the fretful dreams of his grandfather and Aunt Selene. The last Sunday's meeting in the Potter Trunk had been fraught. Both Grandfather and Aunt Selene had looked wane and much weakened and still both of them had stubbornly waved off their concerns and redirected the conversation to other alliance activities each time Harry had attempted to talk about it. Just two more days; Harry was eager for the week to be done and over so he could spend time in the trunk with his family.
Today, more than any other day reminded him exactly how precious family was. One day you were loved and safe and the blink of an eye was all it took. And what was worse, these imbeciles he had landed in the midst of, they actually celebrated the day and expected him to join in the festivities. He had nearly given himself away yesterday.
That moron of a waste disposal machine, Weasley had caught him in the corridors on the way to the potions lab, and gone on and on about Halloween celebrations and his mom's special dishes and inviting Harry over someday to their home which he called the Brow or something else. The oaf had gone on and on until Professor Snape had yelled at them for lollygagging about. If not for the professor, he'd have smacked that boy right into the stone walls of the castle, the vile, insensitive git.
Just remembering it was making his blood boil. Neville, so unlike that oaf, had been silent, giving him companionship without being pushy and expecting nothing; Gran had welcomed Harry into her life and treated them both with equal fond exasperation and lectures and gimlet eyed stares. Harry knew the tones of love hidden behind those gestures same as Neville did. He idly wondered if his own mum would have been the same. He knew from the stories that Aunt Alice was the gentle one and his mum the stickler for rules, like Gran.
It was a hollow, gnawing ache; this sense of loss. Susan and Daphne were meeting the boys in the Kitchen for breakfast. They had elected to skip the crowds and great halls as long as possible and return there only for dinner. They would do this mourning ritual again exactly five days later for Neville's parents and had done the same on the 19th for Susan and two months ago for Daphne and Stori. Only grandfather and Aunt Amy had known about their little mourning routine, joining them sometimes in silent commiseration.
It was going to be a long day and a day of the dreadful classes. They only had to keep their sanity intact for the slowest back to back double sessions of History, followed by Charms and lunch and then Potions and DADA before they could escape into the trunk till dinner time. It couldn't be all that bad, Neville quipped aloud as he packed his books for the day and scrambled to find the assignments; Harry had to bite back a groan. Neville had gone and jinxed it!
They had a peaceful morning with a quiet breakfast amongst cheerful elves in the kitchen, followed by a sleepy History session of monotonous droning about the goblins battle of Imogene and trooped out to join the Gryffindors in Charms and stumbled up on a screaming match between the moron and the shrew. Their parents, family and friends, if they had any, would have known the unlikely duo as Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.
Harry was doubly glad to see professor Flitwick and escape into class, sitting as far away as Neville, Susan and he could get away with. The classes were mostly boring and repetitive for the Greys but they still enjoyed the Charms lessons for their teacher's fun filled teaching style and antics. It was a rare hour of levity in a dark and morose day. There was little that could lighten up Harry's mood on this day.
Today was for levitation charms and Granger, bless her soul, was determined to show them up and managed to perfect the charm before the three 'Puffs could show they did. She then proceeded to gloat and decided Ron Weasley would receive the benefit of her expertise this time around. Only, he wanted to goof around, not learn. While Susan and Neville were engaged in a theoretical tête à tête with the professor, and Harry watched silently, Granger and Weasley had geared up for another fight.
Thankfully, the class did indeed wind down rather quickly afterwards and they could escape. The Grey trio rushed out and sneaked off before the sniping twosome could catch up.
Harry, Susan, Neville and Daphne had sneaked off and were cleaning up the room of requirements and catching up on house gossip when Harry and Neville caught a flare of panic from the castle's sentience. Alarmed, they rushed to touch the walls and gathered that Dumbledore had brought a troll to the third floor corridor and Quirrel was now leading it into an out of the way classroom in the dungeons under suppression cuffs.
Trolls were mostly immune and the cuffs were bound to fall off in a few hours. Why was a troll in the school? What were Dumbledore and Quirrel thinking, letting it lose in campus, in the midst of children? This was far from good news. They quickly disillusioned themselves and masked their scents, trailing an undetectable distance after the professor and his unlikely pet troll. But the troll couldn't be allowed to wander around willy-nilly. They asked the castle to seal the classroom with the troll inside while they thought this through.
Harry pulled out his Potter Trunk from his robe pockets and they contacted Gran, Grandfather, Aunt Amy and Uncle Cyril and sat down to wait to confer with the elders. Troll was hardly beyond their capabilities as a team but that would give away exactly how powerful and knowledgeable the four were. And that was like inviting a host of troubles.
Aunt Amy, Uncle Cyril and Gran joined them soon and were appraised of the situation. Grandfather came in while Harry was running them through the possible ways to tackle the troll with none in the castle the wiser - he advised the four to wait and watch. For now the troll was secured in the classroom by the castle herself.
And the castle was known for her quirks and sentience. It would easily explain why the troll was peacefully restrained and not wrecking havoc if that was Dumbledore or Quirrel's plan. Haste was for idiots; the Blacks never do anything without a truly Slytherin plan, he reminded them.
Grandfather advised that they first investigate the third floor and try to figure out what Dumbledore was working at and see what Quirrel was expecting to accomplish. It was nearly dinner time, and Gran reminded the kids that personal struggles should not keep them from their duties; they were the masters of the castle and a samhain feast's true magicks would be severely lacking in the absence of its hosts. They would attend the feast and do their duty. They wanted to check and secure their route for security before returning to the Hall.
Harry checked the map only to get the second shock of the day. Two corridors down, Quirrel paced the lengths of the DADA classroom, stepping in tandem with Tom Riddle, the Voldie dark wizard. How and when had the dark wizard entered the castle? Why had Dumbledore not noticed? Or had the old buzzard known and done nothing? This did not look good. No wonder the castle had been at them to beef up the wards and take control of the security.
The elders parted ways one by one. As she turned to leave, Aunt Amy reminded Susan to contact her via the emergency Bones family buzzer rings the very second something happened. They needed a passable excuse to question Quirrel. And Voldie's suspected presence would not be credible enough. Their whole community believed he was dead and gone. And facing political animals like Dumbledore, Malfoy and Fudge, Amy was determined to keep her credibility intact.
But Susan's rescue call, presumably made in panic, would be good reason for a concerned Aunt to drop by. That would give Amy a legit reason to come to the castle and question the staff as part of investigation; no one would raise an eyebrow at the over-protectiveness of the DMLE Director for her orphaned niece.
Daphne returned to her room in the dungeons via elf taxi and decided to keep an eye on the head table during dinner. Susan and Neville could stick with Harry and give the excuse of mourning his parents to any teacher if questioned for their absence in the feast.
The remaining three exited the trunk and resumed scavenging the vast cavern room of requirements but the earlier thrill of discovering forgotten books and abandoned treasures had vanished.
Dinner was midway and the halls utterly empty when the threesome decided that it was safe enough to play. A quick check on the map watch told them the Quirrel was attempting to gain entry to the locked classroom. They informed the castle to release the troll but keep all students in safe zones, and stepped off the room of requirements and go down.
They had just stepped into the second floor when they heard a shriek of fear and the sound of walls crumbling. The three 'Puffs sprinted off towards the sound of chaos and soon found themselves witness to the smelly horror that was a full grown mountain troll raising its club and a cowering Hermione Granger attempting to flatten herself onto the underside of a mangled sink.
With no further thought, Harry aimed his shrunken staff at the Troll and transfigured the debris into a trolled sized bird cage and the club into saw dust. Neville got into the act and conjured sleeping fumes directed right down the troll's nostrils and it went down flat like a domino. Susan had sneaked past the troll and dragged the poor girl out of the now badly mangled bathroom.
And the fight ended before it began, in the blink of an eye. The four collapsed in a heap on the floor as the adrenaline finally eased out of their systems. Granger looked like she was in shock. Just as Susan began to warm up the girl's hands while the boys distracted her with questions, Professors McGee, Quirrel, and Hagrid came rushing at them, followed shortly by Professors Flitwick and Snape.
Harry signalled to Susan, who quickly buzzed her Aunt, while Neville and Harry attempted to explain the situation.
Dumbledore seemed conspicuously absent. It made Harry wonder if the man could ever have sensed the wards if he wasn't really alerted by the wards about the escaped troll or a student being attacked. If he didn't, then who controlled the wards before the founders heirs arrived? Or, did he ignore or actively attempt to engineer this situation? Did he condone this attack? The possibilities were disturbing and frankly alarming.