A/N This chapter is left over from a previous storyline that got ditched, so it's kind of been a filler chapter now. Hope it was a decent read nonetheless.

Luna said vaguely that she did not know how soon Rita's interview with Harry would appear in The Quibbler, that her father was expecting a lovely long article on recent sightings of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, '– and of course, that'll be a very important story, so Harry's might have to wait for the following issue,' said Luna.

Harry had not found it an easy experience to talk about the night when Voldemort had returned. Rita had pressed him for every little detail and he had given her everything he could remember, knowing that this was his opportunity to tell the world the truth. Skeeter had included everything he wanted, and the article itself was carefully proofed by all three of them before Hermione passed on her approval to Luna.

When Rita had steered him towards talking about what happened in the days after it had been important that he mention the people who had been there for him, the ones who without he might not have held himself together. Though Harry wanted to, he hadn't dared to mention the Weasleys or Sirius by name, but he hoped there was enough in there that they would be able to read between the lines and see his gratitude for them.

It had taken a few drafts and compromises, but in the end he was happy with the coverage of Cedric too. Even though Skeeter had sanitised the more awful details Harry had described to her there was enough to acknowledge his importance, enough that his death wasn't overlooked by both the Death Eaters and the article. Harry had made a point of explaining that Cedric's death had been quick, that he hadn't been scared because he didn't know what was happening.

Ignorance was bliss?

Yes. When I thought I was going to die, I would have preferred not to know. Cedric didn't know. It happened too quickly. I think it would have been better that way.

To his surprise the article was released earlier than expected, only a week and a half after giving the interview in Hogsmeade. The impact had been well worth the detentions with Umbridge, and for one happy, carefree week things felt okay again. Harry had been practically walking on air with relief, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

The simple change of hearing people talking about his story instead of him brought a sense of relief, and even hearing someone quoting the article word for word didn't make him feel sick to the stomach. Before the article the idea that anyone might know this information would have been horrifying, but now it was like another small amount of poison had been extracted from him.

Despite the Quibbler's ban the whole school was abuzz about it, everyone quoting the interview to one another, whispering as they queued outside classes, while teachers found their own way to express their approval and admiration. Even Seamus had changed his tune, telling Harry that not only did he believe him, but that he had sent a copy of the magazine to his mum.

The crux of it all was Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Nott, who after months of subtle taunts had now completely withdrawn from Harry. He had named all of their fathers as Death Eaters, and while the school's sentiment towards him grew positive the sentiment to them took a proportionate decline. Their fathers's involvement was all throughout the article, as was the fact Harry had been taken to Malfoy Manor.

A rather bold DA member had confronted Malfoy in the library about Harry's claims, the accusations of who tortured him and where. Malfoy had made quite a scene when defending his father, a public shouting match and duel sending him into a fit that had since become the stuff of legends. Harry was in agony that he had missed witnessing it himself, conservatively suggesting the tantrum was of Dudley Dursley proportions.

But what made him happiest was Cho catching up with him as he was hurrying along to Transfiguration the next day. Before he knew what had happened, her hand was in his and she was breathing in his ear, 'I'm really, really sorry. That interview was so brave … it made me cry.'

As the days passed he found it became easier to talk about what had happened, for no longer was it a great dirty secret that he was forced to keep in the back of his mind. Even Ron and Hermione, to whom he had divulged more than he ever thought he would, had come to know more of what happened, a simple fact that made it easier to talk to them about it in the first place.

Harry had talked to Sirius too, his change in mood encouraging him to reach out instead of pretending not to hear his godfather calling from the mirror. Sirius had been fit to burst out laughing when they first talked, unable to believe Harry had published in the Quibbler of all magazines, but he had been pleased for him nonetheless.

'You look good,' Sirius commented when they were done talking about the Quibbler.

Harry smiled, feeling glad for it. 'I feel good,' he acknowledged, shrugging his shoulders. 'Life here's a lot easier when fewer people think I'm deranged.'

They talked for a while, longer than they had since he was at Grimmauld Place over Christmas. Sirius had filled him in on what he could about the Order, while Harry mulled over future lesson plans for the DA, looking for advice and new ideas about what he could learn and teach.

Fan mail continued to arrive in the following days, numerous letters that Harry stowed in his trunk as proof to himself that it had worked. Hate mail too continued, but thankfully he wasn't subjected to the reading of any, not with Ron and Hermione who had taken to filtering all of his mail before deeming it acceptable for him to read too. Hermione kept quiet about the worst of the lot, while Ron on the other hand took gleeful pleasure in laughing about the weirder ones.

New members had joined the DA, including Seamus Finnegan and many others who had so recently shunned or bullied Harry and his friends. But after gritting his teeth for a moment he had welcomed them in, knowing that he couldn't reject anyone who had changed their minds and wanted to defend themselves.

During their first meeting after the Quibbler article the Room of Requirement had to be expanded, and instead of learning themselves Ron and Hermione were dispatched to help Harry manage and supervise the sheer volume of members. Two meetings had been a roaring success, leaving Harry feeling like he was on top of the world even though he was still serving detention with Umbridge, and even though many still didn't believe him.

And for once his nightmares receded deep into the back of his mind, instead replaced by significantly more pleasant dreams about DA meetings and lesson plans. Even he and Cho were getting along better than ever, and after the last two meetings they had stayed in the Room of Requirement a little longer than necessary to tidy up, earning him a bemused look of envy from Ron when he returned to Gryffindor Tower.

But retribution for his interview came swiftly, and it was more than just the week of detentions with Umbridge's blood quill. It didn't take much for her to bring him down, to leave him feeling hopelessly naive and stupid again. He knew there would be blow back from going public, but it had come far swifter and more cruelly than he expected.

He had set Umbridge on the war path, and the first in line had been Trelawney. Within a days she was sacked, a public humiliation that was on Umbridge's part more like a petulant tantrum than any form of professional decision. It was revolting to watch Umbridge in her element, relishing and enjoying the heartbreak of the colleague she was trying to toss out. The only consolation Harry felt was that it was the first night since the article that he had neither Occlumency with Snape nor detention with Umbridge, and thus had been their first DA meeting since the article.

Umbridge continued attending all Care of Magical Creatures lessons, and though Hagrid largely carried on his teaching as normal that wasn't necessarily a good thing under close scrutiny. After Harry's Quibbler interview it seemed Hagrid's sacking was only a matter of time now, something he was increasingly certain of thanks to the way Umbridge kept looking at him during their class, the gloating smirk that made his blood boil. But he never rose to the occasion, not wanting to give her any reason to retaliate against Hagrid. Instead he turned his mind to the DA, planning out their next meeting while Umbridge glowered at him from afar.

Harry had done his best to resume keeping his head down. He didn't publicly gloat, he didn't get into arguments with Umbridge. Instead he silently served his detentions and enjoyed the high, planning out DA lessons when he should have been doing homework, reading and re-reading mail from people who believed him.

The following Friday Harry, Ron and Hermione were making their way to the outdoor courtyard nearest the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, their final class for the day. Taking advantage of afternoon break they sought fresh air despite the cold, bundling themselves with scarves and turning up the collar of their cloaks.

Today he was utterly exhausted. Despite the highs the last ten days had also felt like an endless slog. Every evening if he wasn't doing Occlumency with Snape he was serving detention with Umbridge, who at least had given him reprieve on the weekends - which he had taken full advantage of by scheduling DA meetings. But it only extended the long days and evenings. He had only just finished serving his final detention with Umbridge last night, his hand still bandaged and sore as the wound began to heal.

Harry had been dawdling somewhat, hoping against logic that dragging his feet might slow time before class with Umbridge. There was a Skiving Snackbox somewhere in his bag, but he wasn't sure he could be bothered dealing with it. His only motivating factor was that other than study period, Umbridge's class was the last of the day and then he would be liberated for the entire weekend.

Upon entering the outdoor courtyard the three of them came to an abrupt stop. Catching them off guard was a lone figure who stood by one of the trees, looking up at the snow covered branches. Harry recognised them instantly, the tawny grey streaked hair identifying Scrimgeour without question.

Making no move to approach Harry wracked his brains, wondering if he had missed a note from McGonagall, if there was an appointment he had forgotten about. But a quick glance around the courtyard told him that was not the case - Mr Weasley was no where to be seen, and so far he had accompanied Harry each of the times he had spoken to Scrimgeour.

Sharing a glance with Ron and Hermione he stepped down into the courtyard, which was suspiciously empty of all but the four of them. Even in the colder weather there was at least one other group braving the cold to get some fresh air. But not today.

As he approached Scrimgeour turned around to face him. His eyes darted to Ron and Hermione, noting their presence at Harry's side. Looking him up and down Harry tried to gauge what was going on. Unlike last time Scrimgeour was not carrying anything with him, not a folder or briefcase. And unlike last time he was not wearing his formal Auror robes, today wearing only a heavy cloak to brace himself against the Scottish weather.

'No one told me you were coming,' Harry said by way of greeting.

Scrimgeour nodded politely, giving him a smile that felt a little uncomfortable. 'Hello, Harry. I apologise for coming by unannounced, but I'd like to speak with you if that's alright.'

He came to a stop, Ron and Hermione subtly lingering with him while they all kept their distance from the unexpected visitor. Though he kept his body language neutral Harry was acutely aware of where his wand was, and how quickly he could draw it. He had been practicing the shield charm with wandless magic, but it was pretty unreliable...but he didn't feel there was any cause for alarm.

'I'm underage,' he said, keeping his voice polite. 'You can't talk to me alone. You need to go through Mr Weasley, or Professor McGonagall.'

'I'm not here in any official capacity. Not even Professor Dumbledore knows I am here.'

From the other side of the courtyard Harry could see that a silver tabby cat was perched on a stone ledge. It sat perfectly straight, it's head tilted as if leaning towards the rays of sun that shone on where it sat. But Harry knew that cat was not sunning itself.

'I'm sure Dumbledore knows exactly what's going on inside his castle.'

'Still, I'd like to speak with you privately, Harry. Perhaps a short walk then, yes? Just the two of us.'

'Here's just fine.'

'Yes, although a little more privacy wou-'

'I'm not going anywhere alone with you,' he blurted out, unable to hold it in. 'I've got no proof of who you are, or that you only want to talk.'

Relenting, Scrimgeour nodded again. 'I understand, of course...that you would feel quite guarded.' He paused, looking to Ron and Hermione. 'And, quite protective.'

Abiding to Harry's terms, Scrimgeour gestured to one of the benches nearby, and he limped over and sat down on the far end. Although reluctant, Harry did the same and sat at the opposite end. While he didn't feel afraid or in danger, he maintained a generous distance between the two of them, the unexpected meeting leaving him on edge.

Harry looked at his watch, conscious of the time slipping by. 'Can we make this quick? We have class with Umbridge next.'

His tone of voice made his displeasure quite clear, and Scrimgeour had noticed. Nevertheless he didn't comment. Ron and Hermione lingered nearby to listen, and elsewhere outside the courtyard students were passing them, but not one of them entered the courtyard or even looked their way.

It seemed Professor McGonagall was unaffected by the repelling charm. In her animagus form she had leapt down from the stone ledge and leisurely strutted across the courtyard, maintaining the facade of a cat hunting the perfect patch of sunlight. Scrimgeour had noticed her, but seemed to pay little attention. She had found a spot of sun now and had laid down, her eyes closed as she tilted her head toward the sun, looking perfectly content while she listened in.

'Harry, as I'm sure you understand the investigation of what happened to you last year is a slow process. There are a great number of avenues that must be explored. Strategies and tactics that must be carefully implemented. It's a delicate process, one which I'm afraid takes a great deal of time. But please, be assured that your case is my department's highest priority. Even if, now or in the future, it doesn't appear to be.'

'Is this about my interview in the Quibbler?' he asked, wondering if that had annoyed Scrimgeour.

'No. You were quite within your rights to publish that. Actually, I ought to thank you,' he said lightly. 'For you did so without creating too much havoc in the Ministry.'

'Havoc like what?'

'Like mentioning Dolores Umbridge was in attendance. Or Madam Marchbanks. It might have made things difficult had she come under scrutiny for appearing to be unduly sympathetic.'

Harry let out a slow breath, already annoyed with where the conversation had gone. He just didn't have the headspace to deal with Ministry politics and motives.

'Throughout the investigation's development, we knew there would come a time when my department must turn its attention directly to Minister Fudge. You see, in a time when we anticipate upheaving the stability of our country by announcing the return of a very dark and dangerous wizard, we must take affirmative steps to safeguard our government.'

Harry narrowed his eyes. 'Safeguard the government?' he questioned, not hiding his feelings on the matter. 'That sounds an awful lot like covering up what Fudge is doing.'

Scrimgeour shook his head. 'You'll be pleased to hear that is not what I am suggesting. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement has no particular ties or allegiance to the party that occupies the Minister's office. By safeguard, I mean ensuring the leader of our Ministry is not facing undue pressure or influence from unsavoury individuals.

'You think he could be in on it?' Harry asked, intrigued now. 'Fudge could be working with the Death Eaters?'

'Honestly, Harry? No,' Scrimgeour stated. 'I don't think that likely of our Minister.' There was a pause now, and Scrimgeour glanced over at Ron and Hermione. 'Harry, I must stress that you and I are speaking in the strictest of confidence. It is imperative that you do not share this conversation with anyone other than Professor Dumbledore.'

'Sure,' he said shortly.

Looking at little uncomfortable with what might have seemed like complacency on Harry's part, Scrimgeour nevertheless continued.

'Although my office does not expect Minister Fudge is explicitly working with Death Eaters, his behaviour is certainly not helping his case. Several evenings ago, Minister Fudge and some close associates attended the home of Lucius Malfoy for a dinner party that lasted several hours. '

As the implications of this dawned on him Harry felt his blood turn cold, a vivid sensation he associated with truly terrible things. He looked away from Scrimgeour and let out a slow breath. It was horrifying to imagine. Fudge going to Malfoy Manor for dinner, the place where Harry was tortured. They probably had drinks in the drawing room, the cavernous room where Snape had brought the Dementor in. Where Lucius Malfoy had tortured him even after he surrendered.

'Was it Fudge you were following, or Malfoy?'

'A number of witches and wizards are under surveillance as part of this investigation. That includes Lucius Malfoy, and Minister Fudge and his associates.'

Nearby Ron stood perfectly still, frozen. Associates like Percy?

'And they went to dinner at Malfoy Manor?'

When Scrimgeour nodded Harry became silent, unsure of what to say. He knew exactly who else was there at Malfoy Manor right now, for he had seen them in his dreams for six weeks now ever since the Azkaban breakout.

'You know that's where Voldemort is, right? And half the Azkaban prisoners who broke out.'

Again, Scrimgeour nodded. 'That has been our suspicion.'

'But you don't think Fudge is in league with them?'

'What would be your conclusion?' Scrimgeour asked, peering at Harry expectantly. 'I'm curious to know what you think.'

It was an innocent enough question, yet Harry felt guarded about every single word he spoke. Scrimgeour had come to him completely out of the blue…was he fishing for information from Harry's side? If that were the case then the joke was on him - Harry didn't know much worth spilling, Dumbledore had made sure of that.

'Harry?'

'Fudge doesn't seem like the type,' he finally spoke. 'I can't see him walking into a room of Death Eaters and having dinner with them.'

'Nor can I,' Scrimgeour agreed. 'Cornelius Fudge had never shown any proclivity to pure blood supremacism, nor tolerance of it. It leads me to suspect that he is not a sympathiser of their cause, but rather an unwitting facilitator.'

'He's helping them without knowing it.'

'We believe so. We've seen that publicly at least. Fudge's support of Lucius Malfoy and those accused by you, his efforts to suppress your report last June. That is leading into our next phase of investigations, of which I'd like to keep you well informed. Our intentions are to-'

'Wait,' Harry said abruptly, cutting him off. He was hesitating. Despite his desperation to know what was going on his mind screaming up him to shut up and let Scrimgeour talk, he knew it wasn't safe. 'You shouldn't tell me anymore. At least nothing you wouldn't want Voldemort to know.'

'Why is that, Harry?'

'Because he could get it out of me.'

Thinking he understood Scrimgeour nodded supportively. 'I understand your hesitancy of course. That you fear He Who Must Not Be Named taking you against your will a second time is perfectly natural. But, I'd be quite surprised if he made another move of that nature given his efforts to remain unnoticed.'

Harry couldn't elaborate, he knew that - he couldn't tell Scrimgeour exactly how Voldemort might attempt to get that information out of him. 'Look, just…don't tell me anything that would hurt our side if Voldemort got wind. You should be talking to Dumbledore about these things. Not me.'

As if they had finally come to the crux of this conversation Scrimgeour nodded, peering at Harry intensely. 'I would if I were able to contact him.'

At this comment Harry glanced over to the cat that lay in the sun nearby, knowing Professor McGonagall had heard all of that - and therefore so would Dumbledore. The point of this conversation was exceedingly clear now. Scrimgeour hadn't really come there to talk to Harry or tell him about the investigation out of the goodness of his heart - he was trying to reach Dumbledore, and there was no doubt it would work. If there was one way to guarantee getting Dumbledore's attention it would be to show up without invitation and talk to Harry.

'Well I can't help you with that either. But you've done enough. The fact that you're here, talking to me. Dumbledore obviously knows.'

In agreement Scrimgeour nodded, and he too glanced at McGonagall. It seemed Scrimgeour had recognised her animagus form from the get-go. 'Would you pass on a message to him, Harry? It is important that he be aware Dolores Umbridge is furthering her efforts to have him removed from Hogwarts.'

Bitterly Harry gave a short laugh. 'I'm sure she is.'

'Still. Please pass that message on to him, with the additional request that he please return my letters.'

'I'm sure he'll get your message.'

'Thank you, Harry.'

'Don't thank me, I won't be telling him squat.'

'Have you two had a falling out?' Scrimgeour asked, finally cottoning on.

Again Harry chose his words carefully, conscious he couldn't reveal too much about exactly why he and Dumbledore were not currently speaking. 'We have to keep our distance because of Umbridge. I'm pretty sure she's having me followed.'

Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow. 'She must find you very interesting.'

'Can't imagine why,' he said darkly. He looked at Scrimgeour expectantly, but when he didn't speak for a moment Harry quickly took advantage. 'Why is this all taking so long?' he asked, and not for the first time either.

'It is no easy feat to capture Death Eaters who are hiding in plain sight. At least, not without giving away that you suspect them of illegal activity. Even more difficult is the task of capturing Azkaban escapees.'

'Are you letting the Order help?'

It seemed Harry had raised a sore subject, for Scrimgeour's mouth noticeably twitched into a grimace. 'The Order of the Phoenix serve as confidential informants,' he said gently. 'They are not trained Aurors.'

'They could be helpful.'

'Yes, quite helpful. Particularly when one is being attacked in a corridor outside the Department of Mysteries.'

Harry narrowed his eyes, openly defensive of Mr Weasley. Nearby it looked like Ron was going to say something, but he stopped when Hermione shook her head.

'It was Voldemort.'

'It was difficult to explain,' Scrimgeour said shortly. 'I understand your loyalty to them, and to Dumbledore. However, they are not trained investigators.'

'Some of them are your people.'

'A point of difficult contention, I assure you.' As if remembering who he was talking to and why Scrimgeour began to change his approach, his tone and body language softening again. 'I apologise, Harry. I understand their importance to you. The Order have proven helpful, even if at times the relationship is challenging.'

'So is that all you came here for? To ask me to send a message to Dumbledore, and tell me you're no closer to doing something about Voldemort than you were six months ago?'

'That's not qui-'

'You need to start telling people now!' he implored, desperate for Scrimgeour to understand. 'People need to know Voldemort is really back so they can be ready. Instead most still think I'm a liar and everything is fine.'

'Harry,' Scrimgeour began, making efforts to offset his anxious plea. 'I understand the gravity of what we are facing. I dare say I understand differently than you do.'

'But i-'

'Enough damage has been done by those like Minister Fudge and Lucius Malfoy that the public at large are extremely doubtful. Therefore we must present them irrefutable evidence that He Who Must Not Be Named has returned. Evidence of such magnitude is very difficult to obtain under a shroud of secrecy, yet we must maintain secrecy,' Scrimgeour implored. 'Revealing our hand too early will do untold damage. Until then, anything we say will fall on deaf ears. Do you understand, Harry?'

Though Harry glared at him a few moments longer he finally looked away. Scrimgeour was right, and Harry hated that…it was not the kind of answer he needed right now.

'The longer Voldemort thinks you're not looking at him, the more time you have to get the Death Eaters.'

In agreement, Scrimgeour nodded. 'It is, unfortunately, a delicate balancing act. Were Lucius Malfoy aware the Auror office genuinely suspected him of harbouring Azkaban fugitives I assure you Harry, we would never catch them.'

'The only reason they got out in the first place is that we did nothing.'

To his surprise, Scrimgeour nodded again, agreeing with this point too. 'That is a fair assessment. One day you will better understand that there is no perfect plan…it always comes at a cost.'

'I understand that already.'

The conversation's tone settled again, and it felt less combative now that Scrimgeour had aired his true intentions. Shivering against the cold Harry adjusted the collar of his cloak and looked at Scrimgeour expectantly, waiting for whatever else he had to say. Thankfully he didn't wait long to continue.

'Have you given any more thought to your future, Harry?' he enquired. 'Last time we met, you asked about a career with the Aurors.'

'I asked what it was like, I didn't say I wanted to do it.' He paused now, reminding himself to not be so confrontational. 'No, I've not given it much more thought.'

'Something else take your fancy? Perhaps Quidditch? I heard you're Professor McGonagall's pick for team captain next year.'

'Was,' he corrected Scrimgeour, looking at him again. 'Lifelong ban from Umbridge.'

Scrimgeour gave an odd sort of motion as if he had just learned this fact, which Harry was certain he had known all along. 'Things change,' he said lightly. 'Should you ever have any questions about what a career as an Auror might be like there are plenty of published works on the topic. Some interesting biographies and cases that you might find interesting.'

Bringing their conversation to a close Scrimgeour stood up. Around them the atmosphere changed, ambient noise of students in nearby corridors coming back into consciousness as Scrimgeour removed the privacy charms that had kept their conversation private.

'Should you see Professor Dumbledore, please do pass on my messages,' Scrimgeour reminded him, extending his hand.

Shaking it Harry nodded, but he was confident he would never get the chance. 'Don't come again without Mr Weasley. Like I said, you shouldn't be telling me anything that has to stay private.'

'I'll keep that in mind.'

For a split second Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, looking to them just in case there was something else to be said, something that had occurred to them. But no sooner did he turn did Ron's eyes bulge, his mouth parting in a gape.

'Woah,' he said under his breath.

Spinning back around Harry too was startled - Scrimgeour was gone.

'Wicked,' Ron said in awe. 'He just vanished!'

'He can't have disapparated,' Hermione wondered, picking up her school bag and looking around suspiciously. 'You can't apparate or disapparate inside Hogwarts grounds.'

'Then he's invisible,' Ron said, still sounding impressed. He looked around the courtyard in interest, the area filling with students now the repelling charms had been lifted. 'Geez, he really didn't want anyone to see him here, did he?'

Noting too that McGonagall was already gone, no doubt off to report to Dumbledore, Harry took a moment to collect his thoughts. He felt frazzled and all over the place, struggling to wrap his head around the brief conversation…Scrimgeour seemed to have multiple agendas. It was one thing to come there in an attempt to provoke Dumbledore into finally answering his letters, but it was another to actually give Harry what seemed like a honest update of the investigation.

He moved closer to Ron and Hermione, wary of who else was around them. 'Fudge went to dinner at the Malfoy's.'

Ron grimaced uncomfortably. 'You don't think Percy went too…'

None of them said anything more, for their answer didn't need to be spoken out loud. Percy had risen through the ranks within Fudge's office, he was probably counted as a close associate.

'He wouldn't have known who else was there,' Harry said reassuringly, seeing Ron's face paling.

'Of course not,' Hermione agreed readily. 'Percy's…well, you know. But he's no pure blood supremacist.'

'Don't you think someone should tell him?' Ron asked, looking between them both in worry. 'If Fudge is being investigated, someone should tell Percy.'

Again none of them said anything, and the silence felt excruciating - Harry quickly made to break it.

'The Order will know already,' he said confidently. 'And I'll talk to Sirius tonight. You're right, someone should tell Percy.'

The school bell rang, signalling the end of break. With Ron looking a little happier the three of them made their way towards Umbridge's class, all three of them supremely grateful it was only a single period followed by study in the Great Hall.

In Defence Against the Dark Arts they were doing the usual task of taking notes from Slinkhard's text book, and the silence allowed Harry sufficient time to think.

The news that Fudge himself was under formal investigation was welcome news, not that Harry really believed he might be in league with the Death Eaters. But the knowledge he had been to the Malfoy's for a dinner party didn't do much to settle any worries Harry might have, particularly the knowledge that Percy was more than likely to have been in attendance.

As the class progressed Harry looked up at Umbridge who was perched at her desk watching them, eyes cast about for rule breakers. Still trying to avoid her ire Harry lowered his eyes and resumed the monotonous note taking. Scrimgeour was trying to warn Dumbledore that Umbridge was trying to get rid of him. His statement of the obvious made Harry want to bust out laughing. Of course Umbridge was trying to get rid of him, it was as obvious as the fact that she was having him followed in an effort to catch him out on some trumped up rule breaking.

A few hours later, thoroughly exhausted and mentally beaten down, Harry returned to his dormitory. He had successfully dragged himself through another week, and finally it was Friday evening…he had the whole weekend ahead of him in which to catch up on sleep and homework, get some fresh air and then start dreading the next week ahead. Occlumency would be on Monday night, capping off an awful first day of the week and setting him into a bad mood for the days that would follow.

While Hermione also took some down time before settling in with her homework Harry was doing the same. By his bed he kicked off his shoes and removed his tie, lazily discarding them as he changed out of his uniform and into something more comfortable. As usual he had a long evening of study ahead of him, the prospect made all the worse by the fact that Ron was out at Quidditch training. But that in itself served as motivation for him…if he managed to get ahead on his homework then Ron would find it easier to catch up.

Yanking back the curtains of his four poster bed Harry took off his glasses and slumped down, mentally preparing himself to take out the mirror and talk to Sirius. He needed to tell him about the conversation with Scrimgeour, and ask him to make sure someone checked in on Percy. But no sooner had he slumped into his bed did a series of loud thuds see him sitting bolt upright in alarm.

For a few seconds his heart was racing, startled by the unexpected sound that had come when he inattentive and lacking vigilance. Putting his glasses back on he reached his hand out and conjured some light in the palm of his hands. Sitting precariously on the end of his bed was a stack of books that were not his own, and for a moment he wondered if he was so fatigued he had accidentally laid down on Neville's bed.

Satisfied that this was indeed his own bed he shuffled forward and looked at the books, noticing four more that had slipped off and hit the floor, the noise that had roused him. With another gesture from his hand he levitated the books up from the floor and set them onto the end of his bed, a slow realisation coming over him when he began to study the titles.

Procedures, Policy and Paperwork: An Auror's Guide to Investigating Crime.

The Ones That Got Away. The Life and Times of the Death Eaters Who Escaped Punishment.

Disciples of Evil. Crimes, Trials and Convictions of Infamous Death Eaters.

Putting the mad in Mad-Eye Moody. An Unauthorised Biography.

Underbelly. Investigating Organised Crime.

In Their Heads: An Auror's Guide to Effective Interrogations.

The First Year Trainee Auror's Handbook. Death by Paperwork.

The Second Year Trainee Auror's Handbook. Mad Men, Bad Men and More Paperwork.

Harry shuffled through the books, looking at each of them in turn. There was no need to question who had sent him these, nor how they had come to arrive at the end of his bed. 'Should you ever have any questions about what a career as an Auror might be like there are plenty of published works on the topic. Some interesting biographies and cases that you might find interesting.'

Skipping past The Ones That Got Away he turned to The Second Year Auror's Handbook and scanned through the chapter titles, his eyes bulging at chapter Twenty Two: The Art of Defensive Attack Without Being Sued. He immediately turned to the chapter and began skim reading, his interest piquing more and more until his heart was racing in excitement.

These books served as a stark reminder of what they were missing out on with Umbridge, and reinforced everything he already believed about the DA. Now more than ever, he needed to be focusing on them. Scrimgeour might have his reasons for keeping the investigation low for now, but that didn't negate the need for people to know how to defend themselves…that was something Harry could do about.

Settling in to read, his mind already whirling with fresh ideas and plans for the next DA meeting, Harry knew he wasn't getting any homework done that night.

A/N Just a heads up for readers - chapters 36 - 42 take a downward turn for Harry. I hope the plot lines are a good read that ultimately get the characters to a good place, but I understand if some readers are not interested in these chapters.

If you're just not into drama/angst at the moment I'd suggest waiting until 43 is posted. That way you can skim read the down chapters (to keep up with the plot) and pick up reading again when things start to lift.