Book Two ― A School Divided
Chapter Thirty-Nine ― Anger and Control
Story Summary: Following the events of Third Year, Harry Potter explores the Chamber of Secrets and finds a portrait of Salazar Slytherin. Following Slytherin's advice, Harry will attempt to break out of the games set upon him and finally be free. But how? And is freedom even possible for the Boy-Who-Lived?
Book Summary: Returning to Hogwarts after spending the summer scheming politics with Daphne and furthering Muggle-born education with Hermione, Harry is forced to act prematurely to ensure the safety of the First-Years he promised to help. With Sirius in forced exile, a Tom Riddle with a different plan, a suspicious Dumbledore, and a dangerous tournament, is Harry's desired freedom even possible? Can his ambitions coexist with his desires?
Note: This chapter has been beta-ed by user Outliner.
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While Harry had been dreading having to speak with the Gryffindors, developments were occurring outside the castle referring to both his performance in the First Task and his status as the Black Heir.
Cygnus Greengrass had been in communication with Andromeda Tonks about getting access to the Black Library, but she told him they would need Sirius or Harry to ensure that the family's main house on Grimmauld Place would receive them, and those had been perilous times for Andromeda. She had yet to show herself in public capacity after the Wizengamot session and the few times she had left home, it had been with her disguised daughter keeping a close eye on the situation. No one doubted that Andromeda was now firmly on Malfoy's hitlist. It was more a matter of optics than morality that kept her unharmed ― if she was mysteriously murdered, it would be obvious that Lucius had ordered the assassination. But as time went on and people began to fixate on other things, the correlation might be lost on the public. Amelia and Cygnus both agreed it was better to play it safe, so her metamorphmagus daughter now held guard duty over her mother.
"It's been difficult; not leaving the house," she admitted to both of them when they came over a few hours before.
"Have you found anything to keep yourself occupied?" Amelia asked kindly.
"I've been mostly housekeeping, which is something I enjoy, but there's only so much of it you can do before your mind starts to rot away," she complained. Cygnus looked around. The house was indeed spotless.
"Nymphadora has told me more than once that you are a demon with your cleaning charms," Amelia smirked at the flinch that the Auror tried to hide.
"She just says that because she's the most disorganized person I know," Andromeda replied dryly, sipping at her teacup while side-eyeing her daughter.
"Mom," Tonks whined silently, before eyeing the smirking Amelia and the grinning Cygnus at the table. "My boss is here."
"And is keenly aware of your lack of organizational skills," Madam Bones interjected bemusedly. "Do you think I forgot about your first attempt at archiving a case?"
Tonks moaned quietly, making Amelia cackle.
"What did she do?" Cygnus asked with a devious grin.
"Don't we have important things to discuss?" Tonks interjected with a slight tinge of desperation.
"We do," Cygnus said seriously, dropping the teacup he had been holding into the table, before glancing at Amelia with a small, crooked smirk. "You are telling me later, though, right?"
"Absolutely," Amelia smirked back, before clearing her throat and looking over at the pair of mother and daughter at the other side of the table. "Auror Tonks has reported some instances of people following the two of you around London whenever you leave the house, but without backup, has deemed it too dangerous to pursue any potential threats."
"Correct, ma'am," Tonks nodded when Amelia looked over at her for confirmation. Her boss acknowledged the confirmation before continuing.
"Meanwhile, we have also seen a spike in crime since the last Wizengamot session. Most of it is meaningless, petty things. Some theft and light assault sprinkled on the gravest incidents, but it is a spike nonetheless."
"We believe it is an attempt from Malfoy to flood the justice system and delay any of the Lords' attempts in trying to ensure he pays them for the false claim of Draco being the Heir," Cygnus explained. "There's been a rush of prosecution cases against Lord Malfoy, but because of these lesser instances of crime, which are more urgent and easier to deal with, any cases against him keep getting pushed back."
"It doesn't help that a lot of the Patrol force is being paid off by the man," Amelia sighed. Tonks looked at her surprised, which made the DMLE Director scoff slightly. "You think I don't know about these things, Tonks?"
"I thought you'd do something about it if you did," Tonks said, cringing a bit at the implication behind her words.
"I thought the same of myself once as well," Amelia admitted with no shame whatsoever. "But that was before I got into the politics of being the head of the DMLE."
"You have a reputation for not taking any nonsense," Andromeda intervened in defense of her daughter, who nodded minutely.
"I don't," Bones replied firmly. "I'll fight against any impediments to justice, and this is no exception. But I'm not stupid, and I know perfectly well that I don't have the strength to control everyone below me, so I focus where it matters more. And that if I were dismissed, things would get far worse. Speak frankly, Auror Tonks. Do any of the Aurors or Hit-Wizards seem corruptible to you?"
"No, ma'am," Tonks said immediately.
"There you go," Amelia waved her hand in acknowledgment. "Keeping people in line is harder than you think. In past administrations, many Aurors were on the payrolls of Lords around the Wizengamot," she leaned forwards, looking at both Tonks women in the eye, before whispering, a soft smell of pine entering the room, though only Cygnus could smell it initially. "Do you know why there are so few Aurors from the older generation around the Ministry?"
Both women shook their heads.
"I purged them," Amelia said seriously, the smell of pine finally hitting Nymphadora from how her features started to shift into her natural appearance, her face rapidly paling. Then, she smiled one unkind smile, full of sharp edges and the promise of retaliation. "So, let's not imply that I take corruption lightly, next time?"
"Yes, ma'am," Tonks replied meekly, taking back control of her features. Cygnus didn't blame the girl for being terrified of her boss, but it was startling to see how much her behavior changed from what he was told initially. The natural rebelliousness and joking demeanor were nowhere to be found. Though he reckoned that no one would manage to stay cool and rebellious in the presence of their angry boss.
"You would fit marvelously well with my birth family, Amelia," Andromeda said nonchalantly. "Either that, or you'd kill one another before the first morning's dawn."
"I'm betting on the second, myself," Bones commented dryly. Andromeda did not respond, keeping to a single twitch of the lips.
"Back to business, then," Cygnus advised them all. "Malfoy is likely flooding the justice system to delay any comeuppance, but that also means that he'll try to stay out of the headlines for longer."
"Which means I'm more likely to be attacked," Andromeda reasoned, her calm demeanor cracking a bit from how firm her grip on the teacup was, and how her body tensed. Her daughter's face grew grim and determined, which gave Cygnus more hope that they would succeed in keeping her family safe. Meekness and shyness would not survive Malfoy's offensives, whatever form they may take.
"Indeed," Amelia confirmed. "There's also something else, more recent. It may have nothing to do with your situation, but I'm not taking any chances. This is confidential, however, so I am trusting you that this information should not reach anyone outside this room."
"Of course," Andromeda quickly agreed. Amelia did not even look at Tonks, nor did she need to, and Cygnus had no reason to leak the upcoming information.
"I'm certain you remember both attacks on Bertha Jorkins. An Albanian boy who claims to have lost his family to the same attacker has recently arrived in Britain, and both Auror Dawlish and Unspeakable Bode agreed that the story checks out," she grimaced slightly in anger. "There have been some extremely distasteful uses of magic involved in the boy's baby brother, things that not even the Unspeakables could guess."
"How bad is it?" Andromeda asked warily.
"We are almost certain that there has been a homunculus created from the baby," Amelia admitted, guessing that the older Tonks would know what that meant from her experience in the Black Family. She was correct ― and had even guessed that the younger Tonks was not familiar with the concept.
"Merlin," Andromeda whispered, horrified.
"Regardless, the fact remains that something mysterious and powerful is headed towards Britain, from the Albanian boy's report, and we have no way of knowing if it's correlated with Malfoy. Even if it isn't, if the information gets public, it'll dominate the news cycle, meaning that you'll turn into a much easier target." Amelia stated, before looking over to Cygnus.
"Which is why I'm here," he interjected. "Your daughter is good protection, but whatever the being who attacked that boy's family is, he seems to be knowledgeable in branches of magic that Aurors are not currently trained to face."
"And I cannot assign a Hit-Wizard to this case," Amelia intervened before anyone else could.
"So, what I wanted to offer you and your family is shelter," Cygnus said, putting a folder on the table. "I am not as wealthy as Malfoy, but I do have quite a few properties scattered around England, many of whom are in the Muggle side of things. I know your husband is a Muggle-born, and from what Amelia has told me, Nymphadora was raised with a foot in each world."
"As soon as her powers stabilized, yes," Andromeda spoke vacantly as she picked up the folder and opened it to see various pictures of houses and some information on each one. Her daughter, who had ignored the mention of her first name due to the gravity of the discussion, walked behind her to see the contents of the folder more clearly.
"The difficult part of this is that your husband would have to stay away from his job," Cygnus lamented with a sad smile. "I would be more than happy to compensate him for the lost time, but he might have some difficulty finding a place that would accept him back, depending on how long this situation goes."
"I don't know Harry Potter at all, but from what Susan tells me, he's a fair boy," Amelia commented. "I'm sure he'd pay you as soon as he can get a hold on the money from the Black Family."
"I have my Auror salary as well," Tonks said hopefully, doubtlessly having felt concerned and frustrated at detecting several people following her mother without being able to do anything about it.
"Money isn't the problem," Andromeda closed her eyes and looked filled with sorrow and concern for a second. When she opened them again to look at her daughter, she was more determined. "You know your father, darling. He'll think that hiding away would be folding to Malfoy."
Tonks nodded shyly, like a small child. Cygnus was struck for the first time by how much the experience had to incur mixed feelings within the young Auror. He'd expect her to be proud that both her parents were willing to stand up to Malfoy to do what's right by Harry and Sirius, but it was still nerve wracking to see people you love put themselves in such danger.
"I'll convince him," Andromeda said firmly after a few seconds of thinking. "I'll contact you with a house we choose together and we'll move in as soon as possible."
"When you decide, I can ward it more extensively," Cygnus claimed. "I have good relations with the goblins, they'd do this quietly for me."
"Excellent. Now that that's settled, there's one final subject to discuss on my end," Amelia breathed out. "From the moment that you get settled in your new home, we're going to need Auror Tonks for an assignment."
"Who will protect my parents?" Tonks demanded resolutely.
"We'll cycle through some reliable junior Aurors," Amelia promised. "But we have an assignment that requires you to use your abilities."
Tonks nodded slowly, surely recognizing that this would almost assuredly be an infiltration operation.
"What does the assignment entail?" She asked curiously, before glancing at Cygnus. "If you can tell me, that is."
"We need you to find a way to infiltrate Sirius Black back into England," Amelia summarized. Cygnus looked on, feeling anxious.
"I'll get you that library as soon as he's here, Cygnus, I promise you," Andromeda spoke passionately. "I will not let your little girl suffer if there's anything I can do for her."
"Thank you," he said sincerely, smiling in thankfulness and a fair bit of nervous energy.
"We are going to try and use Malfoy's slowly declining situation to our benefit and pass a trial by," Amelia explained, while Cygnus's mind was still distantly thinking about Astoria. "It may be our best chance."
"He is losing money with all these bribes," Cygnus continued when he recovered from his small trance. "I expect that his pockets can't run as deep, making it hard to block a fair trial for Sirius. It's our best hope for him in the short term, short of capturing Peter Pettigrew."
"And we have no idea where he is," Tonks finished with a thoughtful nod. "Alright, then. I'll be glad to see Sirius again."
"Terrific. I have some business to tend to, so I'll leave you three to it," Cygnus said before wishing all three women goodbye.
Now he was on his way to deal with another issue; one which was less important, but occupied most of his head and the closer he got to his destination, the angrier and angrier he became.
He found the person waiting for him imperiously standing in front of an apartment complex within the magical divide, near Diagon Alley.
"Roman," Cygnus greeted uncaringly and with untold fury. "Is this it?"
"That's where the Floo Authority directed me to, yes," Lord Smith said tightly, just as angrily.
"Let's go," Cygnus urged them, drawing his wand and entering the building, marching his way to the top floor. "Are there any wards?"
"None that I know of, but I'm not Mad-Eye," Roman answered back.
"We just need to scare him, and Bagman is a coward outside the pitch," Greengrass mentioned, forcefully opening the door of the man's apartment. No alarms rang out, so they were more confident. However, as they entered, the retired Quidditch star stopped what he was doing in the other room and rushed into the entrance, though he did not have a wand. So maybe there was just an alarm ward. As soon as Bagman recognized the men who had just entered his home, he paled greatly, and Cygnus used the opportunity to smile as sadistically as he could, allowing his anger to shine through. "Hello, Ludovic. How are we today?"
Smith closed the door, and Bagman swallowed dryly. "Cygnus," he greeted with a tremulous nod.
"Aren't we familiar with one another?" Cygnus purred sarcastically, still smiling. "Calling one another by our first names, not even performing the Welcoming Rites when we enter... We do have a great relationship, don't we, Ludovic?"
Bagman didn't answer, instead, he remained perfectly still, as though he hoped the invasion was nothing but a dream from which he would be saved so long as he ignored his fear. When Cygnus pointed his wand at the larger man's throat, it became harder to do so and he began shaking slightly. Lord Greengrass was thankful that Bagman was a mediocre wizard without his wand, or this confrontation would require far more tact and caution. As it was, threatening people was not something in which he believed, but he was angry enough that it mattered little.
"Then tell me, Ludovic, why were you so hesitant to share details about the Tri-Wizard Tournament's First Task?" He said sweetly, walking forwards and pressing the wand against the man's sternum. "Did you know that we'd get angry, and decide not to face any consequences? Did you, Bagman?" Cygnus hissed the last word sharply, and let the tip of his wand warm enough to start to bother Bagman, who began fidgeting. Recognizing that he was larger than both men in the room, he seemed to have chosen to fight against the invaders, but Smith retrieving his wand and pointing it at him at a distance and another wave of heat coming from Cygnus's wand dissuaded him.
"You couldn't have changed the Task even if you knew," Bagman claimed after a while, grimacing in pain when Cygnus's seethed at the claim, his wand burning against his chest, poking a hole through his vest.
"Try me, you fuck," Greengrass censured Bagman, pushing him back against the wall. "You think I wouldn't be able to change the Task?"
"Too much work," Bagman defended himself, sweating at the heat brought upon him.
"I don't care how much work it would take, as long as there weren't four fire-breathing monsters near my daughters!" Cygnus yelled the last part of the sentence, finally taking the wand away, revealing an angry red mark on Bagman's chest. "You idiot, do you even realize how close you came to killing Harry Potter?! If it wasn't for Krum using Durmstrang magic, he might have died as well. Every single one of the children in that task is politically connected or is extremely famous, and that is to say nothing of the fact that they are children!"
"You should have told me about the dragons, Bagman," Smith said ominously from behind Cygnus. "My son goes to that school, and I would not allow him anywhere near that stage if I had known there was a dragon within. By the time we figured it out, it was far too late to change the Task, but if you hadn't cowered, we could have done something about it."
"The Minister asked me to use the most bombastic thing possible," Bagman explained himself in a rush. "You both know that the Tri-Wizard is only happening to create some distraction after the disaster that was the Black jailbreak and the Quidditch World Cup."
"You can create entertainment without going with the biggest fucking predator available, you moron!" Cygnus barked.
"What he said," Roman confirmed easily, his ability to sort out his temper better than Cygnus's. "What was your next idea? Putting them all in a room with Dementors, see whose soul gets sucked out last?"
"It's not like that," Bagman complained. "I needed something large, and dragons came to mind. We took precautions."
"It's a dragon," Roman retorted exasperatedly, "there are no precautions against a dragon, particularly when you're talking about teenagers."
"We could all see how those precautions worked well in Potter's Hungarian Horntail," Cygnus commented derisively.
"How was I supposed to know the Boy-Who-Lived would turn into a maniac against the dragon?" Bagman demanded. "That wasn't normal."
"Nothing about that boy is normal," Roman intervened before Cygnus could, knowing perfectly well that Greengrass was angry enough to say things he would regret. "It comes with the territory of being the Boy-Who-Lived."
"Did you come here just to yell at me?" Bagman grouched, rubbing his chest. "In which case, I get the message."
"Oh no, we're here to ensure that nothing even worse will be in the books for the Second and Third Tasks," Cygnus declared, sitting down on a chair. "We have much to discuss."
"Go get the files, Bagman," Smith continued, not getting his wand back into his pocket as Cygnus had. "We'll be talking with Bertha only as a fait accompli. Understood?"
Bagman looked tired and moody but complied with the order without further resistance. They would all have much to adjust.
Harry knocked into the door of Flitwick's office and was immediately summoned inside.
"Ah, hello Mr. Potter," he called out from where he stood, helping a younger student with a charm. It wasn't one of their students from summer, but he did look like a firstie, and he didn't look afraid of Harry when he entered, so that was positive. "Can you wait for a few minutes while I finish this conversation?"
"Of course," Harry conceded and went to sit down in a nearby chair. He hadn't been here since rescuing Sirius; he could still see the window through which he had done the deed. It wasn't a particularly large room, smaller than even Snape's office in the dungeons, but it was lively and happy, with large bookcases with colorful books on every wall but one, which incidentally was populated with magical and mundane portraits of famous Ravenclaws, something that reminded Harry of Dumbledore's office.
A few minutes in, the boy ― a Ravenclaw ― left the room with his homework help, shakily waving at Harry, who smiled at him warmly. That seemed to relax him, and the unnamed boy left with a happy grin.
"Well, it's good to see you, Harry," Flitwick greeted him more openly, and Harry had to remind himself of their accord to call one another by their first name. It was an odd arrangement, but one he couldn't complain much about. "We haven't talked much this year, have we?"
"Not outside of classes, no," Harry shook his head slowly. "It's good to see you too, Filius."
"Ah, I see you remembered to use my first name," the half-goblin's lips twitched in amusement. "I am not yet eligible to forget it, which pleases me."
"I'll try my best to ensure that doesn't happen," Harry grinned slightly.
"Before we begin, I must ask a question, for my own sake, though my eyes already answer it," the Professor requested. Harry told him to go ahead with a small nod. "Are you recovered from your ordeal regarding the dragon?"
"You mean if I'm back to normal after being a little shit for a couple of weeks?" Harry asked dryly.
"I wouldn't put it on those terms, but anyone with a good eye could see that you were at the end of your tether, and that was affecting your behavior," Filius shrugged. "I don't necessarily blame you for losing your head, given everything you've had to face. People always expect more of their heroes, and like or not, you are a hero for many people."
"I am back to normal, yes," Harry sighed, feeling the weight of his actions over the past weeks once more bear down on his shoulders. "I still feel tired, so I'm trying to rest more than usual, but I don't feel irrationally angry or snappish anymore."
"That's good," Filius granted, but still looked at Harry with a keen eye, showing that portion of that conversation was not yet over. "What will you be doing to guarantee it doesn't happen anymore? You still have two tasks ahead of you, and I fully expect you to have a rather stressful life, given your objectives. Understandable it may be, but you cannot crack every time something difficult happens."
Harry looked at the half-goblin and breathed out with some frustration that he swallowed quickly. It was annoying that the behavior he showed would haunt him even among the people he considered his closest allies, but it couldn't be helped, to an extent. "Yeah, I know," he conceded with a sage nod. "You remember Bill Weasley?"
"Of course," Flitwick squeaked enthusiastically. "One of my favorite students ever. He reminded me a lot of your father, to an extent, though he was always more serious than James."
Harry blinked at the comparison, having never heard that one before. Bill certainly didn't give off the same prankster vibe that James seemed to have had in spades, but again, Bill was a Weasley.
"Well, at the Yule Ball, he's going to talk me through some Occlumency exercises," Harry shrugged lightly. "He said it might help me control myself."
"It's a good choice," Flitwick mused pensively. "There are easier solutions, but they would be workarounds and temporary, at best. You are aware that Occlumency is very much illegal to learn, I imagine? Not to mention, quite difficult."
"Trust me, I am very much aware," Harry retorted dryly, remembering how many times he got stuck with the meditation phase of the Occlumency training he received with Salazar.
"Spoken like someone who had tried before and failed," Filius stated, knowingly. When Harry did nothing other than stare back at him, he inquired. "And this, I surmise, came from your mysterious benefactor?"
Harry remained quiet. Filius continued.
"Harry, if I noticed, Mad-Eye also did, as did Albus," he reasoned. "I hope, for your sake, that you know who you are following."
"I'm not following anyone," Harry claimed, looking distantly at the portraits in Flitwick's room, wondering if any one of them could speak with Salazar in the Chamber or the Slytherin Common Room. "Not anymore, at least. But I did get instruction from someone recently."
"I'm assuming you're not revealing who it is," Flitwick commented, only to have Harry smile blandly and somewhat apologetically back at him. "I imagined," he breathed out. "Just remember, you have other options. I'd be more than happy to help you out, as long as it isn't directly with the Tournament."
"I'd like that," Harry said honestly, remembering his dueling practices with the man. It'd be good to get some advice on how to deal with opponents like Snape, who was much more powerful than him, let alone someone like Riddle, or if it came to it, though Harry still didn't believe it would, Dumbledore. "But that's not why I'm here."
"Let's hear it, then," Flitwick excitedly claimed, inviting Harry to continue speaking with a gesture of the hand.
"It's about a Ravenclaw girl, Luna Lovegood," Harry started seriously.
"I know her," Flitwick nodded slowly. "One of my most promising students, quite brilliant, if a bit odd at times, but nothing troublesome. I find her quite charming."
"I've spoken to her a few weeks ago, and though I meant to speak with you before now, other things got in the way," Harry said somewhat sheepishly. "I think she's being quite severely bullied."
"I beg your pardon?" Flitwick asked, with confusion slowly giving way to anger. Harry repeated himself, relating everything he could remember from that strange encounter with the girl, and by the time he was finished, Flitwick was boiling mad, the angriest Harry had ever seen him, except for immediately after Snape's attack. "I am going to deal with this immediately," he said harshly, his body tense and shaking in a fury that did not fit his amiable demeanor.
"Thank you," Harry responded sincerely, feeling bad for taking that long to deal with the situation. Flitwick nodded and left the room. Harry was tempted to follow him under the Cloak, but decided to leave Ravenclaw matters to the Ravenclaws, for now. He would worry about Luna's welfare in a bit.
He didn't have to wait for much to receive an update on the girl. The following breakfast, while he was talking with Neville about something innocuous, Luna appeared in front of him and started blinking to call his attention. Neville had to alert Harry to her presence, or else he'd not notice it at all.
Harry turned to see the blonde girl representing an odd mixture of serenity and anxiety, her face a perfectly calm canvas, but her body tense and uncertain.
"Luna?" Ginny asked, surprised. "What are you doing here?" Luna smiled in her direction and waved cheerily for a second before turning to Harry and letting her features relax again.
"Hello, Harry Potter," she greeted him calmly with her ethereal voice. It gave him goosebumps, in a pleasant way. He imagined she would make for a great teacher in the future, with that singing, lulling voice of hers.
"Hello, Luna," Harry greeted with a small grin. Some people were talking about how Harry was speaking with Loony Lovegood up and down the table, but one low growl from Harry shut all that conversation, even though some people who had taken to be more hostile with him since the First Task continued to gossip in low whispers, McLaggen leading the charge.
"I hope I'm not causing trouble being here," Luna commented idly, looking directly at Cormac, which almost made Harry choke on a burst of startled laughter. He could tell that this girl was observant since that first encounter, but he didn't expect her to be so casual about her retorts, and he was absolutely sure she had done it on purpose by the small, fleeting grin she sent his way before her face became a blank canvas again. "You spoke with Professor Flitwick, didn't you?"
"I did," Harry confirmed solemnly, hoping he hadn't offended her.
"I don't know how to feel about that," Luna said, wringing the hem of her robes for a second. "But I know you weren't trying to hurt me when you did it."
"Did you get hurt, last night?" Harry asked kindly.
"I felt hurt knowing that people disliked me that much to steal things from me," Luna responded idly, looking distant and somewhat forlorn. "Knowing that did hurt, but at least they gave me my things back."
"I'm glad about that much, if nothing else," Harry smiled sadly, feeling sorry for the girl. She reminded him of how he felt during the Chamber of Secrets incident.
"Some people have been nicer to me," Luna continued, looking back at the Ravenclaw table, which was doing its best to ignore that the girl was speaking with Harry. "I think they were ashamed."
"As they should," Harry replied finally, taking a glance at Filius, who nodded imperceptibly to him. Harry gazed at the points total for each House and noted that Ravenclaw seemed decidedly depleted in comparison to the other three Houses and that the table seemed morose and burdened with a heavy ambiance, except for the Beauxbatons contingent. He didn't know what the half-goblin had said, but there was not one face wearing blue who looked happy with themselves. "What they did was shameful."
"I think most of them were just afraid," Luna said sympathetically, with honest sentiment for people who had watched her being tormented and did nothing to stop it. "People aren't always brave, in Ravenclaw."
"But they should have been wiser," Harry argued and got a sad nod from the girl in front of him. "You can stay here with us if you want to," he offered.
She beamed at him but shook her head. "It's okay," she claimed. "I might come here sometimes, but I would like to go back to my House's table now," she grinned a little maliciously before continuing. "It's fun to see some people so miserable, though I know that's quite mean of me."
Harry snorted in amusement and waved her goodbye. She turned to leave but looked back at him over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes as if analyzing him. "There are fewer Wrackspurts around you now," she stated thoughtfully. "I am happy about it. There was quite the infestation of them around when you were fighting the dragon."
"I feel better now," Harry grinned, and the girl nodded before skipping away.
"Wrackspurts?" Neville questioned, blinking confusedly at Harry.
"I have absolutely no idea," Harry shrugged. "But she means well, and I know what she meant by it, so, who cares?"
"People shouldn't believe something so vague," Hermione commented from next to him with a grimacing face. "What's the point of believing something which clearly doesn't exist?"
"Reality isn't objective," Harry stated, vaguely thinking of the Ethics book he had largely abandoned, and the lessons with Salazar that he hadn't had in a while. He really should try to do something like it soon. Or maybe he should wait for his talk with Bill? It was all very uncertain, at the moment. "If that's how she views the world, I'm not taking it away from her."
"But it's nonsense," Hermione insisted. Some people peeking into the conversation seemed to nod ― Harry noticed that Ginny was frowning disapprovingly at his friend.
"It might be, for everyone but her, but that doesn't invalidate anything," Harry shrugged, looking at Hermione directly. "I won't impose any ideas on people if they're not harming anyone. Luna seems to see the world differently, but she also seems quite sharp and aware to me."
"How could you possibly know that?" Hermione insisted. Harry just smirked at her, which seemed to both distract and somewhat charm her, from how she flushed ever so slightly.
"Because I am also quite sharp and aware, these days," he claimed, knowingly being a bit arrogant, but also sincere. He wasn't Daphne or Tracey, but he was more perceptive than the average Gryffindor, that was for sure. "Regardless, she's not being bullied anymore. You can tell me someone deserves to have their things stolen for believing that imaginary creatures exist."
"Of course not," Hermione denied fervently. "No one deserves to be mistreated."
"There we go," Harry acknowledged the point. "The rest are details."
"It was good of you to help her," Hermione praised him sincerely, with a shy, adoring smile that made him feel bad about fooling her about the Chamber. Neville looked at Harry with some light admonishment, but Harry had been looking at Hermione and missed it.
"It was the least I could do," he dismissed it and went back to eating. He didn't want to look at that face again. It made his guilt flare up too much.
Hermione's face was pleading and hopeful a few weeks later, when they met in the Room of Requirement along with Daphne, who was doing a better job of pretending not to be just as anticipative as Hermione.
"Before we even start, I am not going to ask either of you to the Yule Ball," he announced as clearly as he could as soon as he saw them.
"Why not?" Hermione demanded, and the gleam in Daphne's eye suggested that she also wanted to know, though Harry sent one look her way and she recognized the impossibility of the two of them sharing a public dance.
"The truce that you both have is fleeting, at best, and if I'm forced to choose, it's going to shatter," Harry summed up with no shame whatsoever, making both girls fidget uncomfortably, though Hermione's embarrassment was made that much evident by how flushed her face got.
"Who are you going to ask then, Potter?" Daphne asked all too politely for his taste. It was clear that neither girl was happy with the development, and he decided to act more cautiously around them, Daphne specifically. An angry Hermione he had dealt with many times, but Greengrass was less receptive of his faults than Hermione ever was, and he did make a promise to the blonde.
"I don't know, but I'll only ask a person as a friend," he stated, sitting down on a chair that the Room popped into existence for him.
"How about Longbottom?" She suggested with a smirk, making Hermione gape at her incredulously.
"He looks like a poor dancer," Harry lamented with fake sorrow.
"And you are a world-class dancer, I presume?" Daphne inquired with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, what do you think?" Harry asked back with joking confidence. He had no idea how to dance whatsoever.
"I think you're shit at it," she deadpanned, making him snort.
"You are correct," he conceded.
"I am always correct," she declared elegantly, passing her hand through her blonde hair exaggeratedly.
"Alright, you'll ask a friend," Hermione interrupted his answer, with frustration bleeding into her voice. Harry had completely forgotten she was in the room with them in his little banter with Daphne and smiled sheepishly to his best friend in a way of apology. The Slytherin in the room just smirked triumphantly at her, doubtlessly having come to the same conclusion. Before the thing could blow over, Hermione closed her eyes to calm herself down and spoke more seriously. "What do you know about the egg?"
"Nothing so far," he shook his head. "Frankly, I haven't been paying much attention, particularly ever since Zacharias Smith told me that his father was looking into changing the Second Task," Harry shrugged. "I see no point in trying to decipher something likely to change."
"Alright, that's fair," Hermione granted, before looking over at Harry with some caution. "So, what are you going to do with preparations for the Second Task?"
"Honestly, I'm more focused on understanding what happened with me during the First Task," he said with somewhat unseeing eyes. "That, and the new Potions instructor from Beauxbatons."
"The alchemist, right?" Hermione asked excitedly.
"She's brilliant," Daphne said with an unreserved enthusiasm she reserved for very few in her life. "I am not going to miss a single minute of anything she has to tell me."
Hermione nodded effusively, and Harry was struck by how much these two could be more friendly with one another if it weren't for him.
As they had nothing very important to discuss, Hermione quickly left to study something, with Harry following her closely until he pivoted around at a believable point to go back to the Room, sealing it from new entrants as soon he arrived. Daphne has been waiting for him, as she had done for all the times the three of them had met in the place.
"I'm not happy about having to pretend that I don't know this Room," she grouched as it melted into the now-familiar setting of his place near Knockturn Alley.
"It was the only option, Daphne," Harry sighed.
"There's never only one option, Potter," she claimed, crossing her arms and frowning. "And now I'm going to have to teach you how to dance with another woman."
"Teach me?" He raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
"I can't leave you floundering on the ball, now, can I?" She responded, crossing the room to stand in front of him with a fierce expression. "And you better not call that Weasley girl."
"Ginny?" Harry blinked. "I wasn't planning to."
"Good," Daphne answered swiftly. "I don't like the way she looks at you."
"Territorial, aren't we?" Harry smirked jokingly, but Daphne only looked at him with fire in her eyes.
"Did you forget about what I told you in my home?" She purred, grabbing him by the robes and not letting him step back when she stepped forwards. Her blue eyes shined predatorily at him. "I said that as soon as we could stand together, I would hunt you down until you were mine. I haven't changed my position on the matter."
"I don't know what to say to that," Harry said when she finally released him, though the look in her eyes hadn't faded away.
"You don't have to say anything," she smiled suggestively at him. "Just stand there and be a nice prey, when I do go out after you."
"I feel like you're already circling me," Harry spoke, feeling his body and face warm up at her forwardness, which delighted the girl by the looks of her blossoming grin.
"You haven't lost your touch, then, Harry," she responded. "Now, there's a lot of dancing for you to learn in a small window," she rolled her shoulders back and stretched her body. Harry's eyes followed the motion, which did not escape her watchful eyes. She laughed musically at his captivation and he looked away in embarrassment. With yet another triumphant and self-satisfied smile, she looked him up and down and urged. "Let's begin, shall we?"
Another letter reached Harry a few days later, this time from Sirius. He took it from Hedwig and immediately set off to his bed, leaving his breakfast half-eaten in the Great Hall. Before he opened it, he glanced at his Ethics book and his Parseltongue notebook, in which he had written so confidently that Sirius was a Hedonist and now lamented that diagnosis. The more time he spent thinking about his godfather, the more convinced he was that Sirius was hiding how truly awful his mental state must have been following such a lengthy stay in Azkaban, to say nothing about the guilt he must still bear from Pettigrew and his parents' murder. He had no idea how many of Sirius's smiles and jokes had been forced through a tempest of unstable moods, and he reckoned it had been quite a few. Harry hoped at least some happiness would return to his godfather in the years to come, and vowed to spend more time knowing the man once he had been cleared by the DMLE.
He cracked open the letter and began reading it. The handwriting changed multiple times during the letter, though it still was all from Sirius, as though he had stopped at many times to continue it later on.
Harry,
I hope you're doing well. I did read a lot about your performance on the First Task, and I couldn't be prouder of what you've accomplished. Being first place against older champions in that challenging task is no mean feat. You should be happy with yourself.
Here, the handwriting changed for the first time.
I was a little worried, however, reading some of the details about the fight against the dragon. Don't get me wrong, I'm very impressed that you managed to defeat it, but the fact that you felt like you had to defeat it worries me a bit.
The handwriting changed again, and it looked like Sirius's grip on his quill had tightened.
You remind me of Lily quite a lot, more so than James. One thing that she had in spades that your father didn't was that she could be vicious when she wanted to. It was one of the things that made us closer friends during the war. We were one of the few people who didn't shy away from doing what was needed when the time came.
Harry could read between the lines and couldn't help but be surprised. Sirius had all but declared that his mother had cast to kill whenever she was in a bind, and he couldn't conciliate the loving image he had seen in the Mirror of Erised with that fact easily. Not that he judged her for it; he knew that he would almost certainly have to kill at least one person when the time came to confront Riddle. Likely, he would have to kill many more than that. Still, it was a fact he did not expect. The handwriting changed yet again.
I reckon that you got into one of Lily's moods in that fight. Whenever she really got into it, it was impossible to get her out of it, as James found out to his cost many times. And she got into it quite a bit until she got pregnant with you, and then she stopped. I had a talk with her about that a bit after you were born, and she explained it all to me.
The handwriting changed one final time, and Harry could feel his heart pound against his ribcage in anticipation.
She told me that whenever she remembered that you were alive and well, she just couldn't get into one of her tempers. She still got angry, but your life gave her calm she hadn't known since the beginning of the war, and that she didn't want to lose that calm for anything in the world, even if it made her less effective in combat.
I didn't understand what she meant until I left Azkaban. I still get lost in my moods, and it's been very hard to be isolated from everyone after Remus left to do things around Europe. But knowing that there are people in England that wish me well and that consider me family gives me pause. I always regret getting into one of my moods afterward, and I hope that you don't get into the habit of losing yourself, even if it's convenient. Lily would have known exactly what to say to you now, but I don't. Just don't allow yourself to turn into someone like me. Be like your mother, and learn how to control yourself.
You want freedom, right? I remember our conversations in Gringotts. If so, remember that you can also be held hostage by your own mind, and don't let it play tricks on you.
I'm trying to get back to England so that I can support you from a closer distance. I miss you, and the old country would do me some good at the moment.
With love,
Snuffles.
Harry closed the letter feeling emotionally drained. Though he had reached the conclusion he had to control himself better on his own immediately after talking with Madeleine, the letter did get to him, in many different ways. Firstly, he didn't expect Sirius to be advocating for more discipline, and that was something that deepened his resolve to know his godfather more. Sirius's own words about losing control and getting into his moods worried Harry even more about how stable his godfather was, and if Azkaban hadn't damaged his psyche even more than he imagined.
But he was also happy, to some degree, to be admonished by a loving authority figure, even if it was only lightly. The comparison to his mother, and that little quirk of information about her having a fierce temper and a disposition to match brought him closer to completing the mental picture he had of her.
After mulling the letter for a bit on his mind, he made a decision. He would have to go back to some form of self-reflection, even before he met with Bill. Maybe not the Ethics book, but something needed to be done. He needed to decide what kind of person he would like to become.