A/N: Here we go with another chapter. Updates will undoubtedly be slower now because I have once again been bit by the desire of wanting to write something original and that will take my focus. When I'm not doing that or writing this story, I'm refamiliarizing myself with the fandom by reading some old favorites (and finding some new ones, perhaps). Still, I'll try to get at least one chapter out a week if I can. Now, enjoy.
Chapter 19:
Restlessness
Lily Potter opened the door to her quarters a couple of hours after Iris had left (which had been about fifteen minutes after Harry had left them all horrified that he wouldn't help his sister) to find Minerva McGonagall on the other side. "Minerva, come in," Lily said quietly, stepping aside and allowing McGonagall to enter. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm not sure how to answer that question, to be honest, Lily," McGonagall said.
"Minerva," James said as he walked into the common area. "I'd ask how you are, but Lily did that already and, to be honest, I'm kind of feeling out of sorts myself."
"Yes, that is a good way to describe how I feel," McGonagall said. "I can hardly believe it. A part of me doesn't want to. To think Albus could do something so horrible to you, that he could have put Iris' name in the Goblet… I am trying to understand how it could be possible. A part of me wants to say this is all a horrible dream, or that that Ravenwood man is lying to us all. But Albus… he did attack us all. It was… I have never felt Albus' magic like that, so chaotic, and yet directed. The injuries he gave all of us because we were going to question him… I can't just ignore that. But I also can't ignore the decades I have given to him. I-I believe for the first time in decades, I am bereft."
"We know how you feel, Minerva," James said as the three sat down in front of the fireplace. "To know he might have been the one to-to take Harry all of those years ago, with Snape's help, it… it makes me furious, and if it turns out to be true, I am going to push for Albus to have the most severe punishments levied against him. But I also worry about what this could do to the Light's position in the government. We're already struggling with the likes of Lucius Malfoy having Fudge's ear, and now Dumbledore might be exposed as having committed numerous crimes? We need to figure out someone who can help galvanize the Light side without losing stride and stand in defense of the things we know are right."
"I would think the choice would be obvious, James," McGonagall said, giving him a look of surprise. "The person who has truly been leading the charge of the Light, especially against Voldemort, the past three years has been you. Albus has just been… doing whatever it is he does in his office. I always thought he was making plans for things but now I wonder if he ever did have plans for that."
"Me?" James asked in surprise. "I-I'm not sure about that, Minerva. I'm sure someone like Augusta or Amelia would be a better option…"
"James, they are peers of Albus," McGonagall said. "This means they are seen in the same light as him, as having the same beliefs. If what Albus has been accused of turns out to be true, those close to him like Augusts, Amelia, Elphias, they'll all be tarred with the same brush, be declared as 'out of touch' with the current generation by the likes of Lucius Malfoy. The Light needs a younger leader, a more determined leader, one who will not put everything on a child to lead us as Albus seems to have done."
"I'll think about it," James said after a moment. "I became an Auror so I wouldn't need to worry about politics. But I also don't want Malfoy and his ilk to gain more ground."
"You do realize, James, that part of the reason they could gain ground is your own son?" McGonagall asked. "I am not trying to be difficult, but even if he doesn't abhor Muggleborns, he does espouse many views that fit the traditionalist dogma, and they will capitalize on that, especially now that he is a Champion in the Tri-Wizard Tournament and a Champion for the Walpurgis Monastery, at that."
"I'm aware of this," James said with a sigh. "He's always been opposed to Dumbledore and will see all of this as vindication. He's likely to talk to people. I most worry about him talking to Rita Skeeter. As a Champion, he's a public figure, which means I can't forbid him from speaking to her or her to him. I've warned him about her, but…"
"I suppose we will simply have to deal with things as they come," McGonagall said. "That being said, I have a request to make of you, James."
"What is it?" James asked.
"I am going to have to take over duties as Headmistress if Amelia confirms that your son's suspicions are true, which means I will no longer be able to serve as Transfiguration Professor or Head of Gryffindor. I was hoping you would take a sabbatical from the Auror Department and act in the former capacity until I can find a permanent replacement. Lily, I was hoping you would serve as Head of Gryffindor."
"Of course, Minerva," Lily said. "Anything you need. I know this is going to be a trying time for you."
"I'll talk to Amelia about it tomorrow when she comes to tell us the results of the investigation tonight," James said. "If Dumbledore is guilty of even half of it, I'll need to take a sabbatical anyways so I don't go to Azkaban and deal with him myself, so I'm sure she'll agree."
"Thank you, both of you," McGonagall said with a sigh. "Of course, I'm hopeful that either this turns out to be some horrible mistake and Albus had some other issue with his magic this evening or that I'll wake up tomorrow and this entire disastrous night will have been a horrible dream and it's Saturday morning again…"
"I don't blame you for that, Minerva," James said. "I kind of wish the same thing, because then it would mean my daughter, who is in no way prepared for anything like this, isn't in the Tournament. Harry… he can handle himself. He proved that at the World Cup and again earlier tonight. But Iris… I'm her father. I'm supposed to protect her. But I can't do anything because of the by-laws of this fucking Tournament that forbids teachers and Ministry officials from helping the Champions. We asked Harry to help her earlier but he refused, saying that the Tournament is to showcase the educational values of each wizarding school and that maybe seeing our Champion bested will make British wizarding society sit up and take notice. I-I don't know what to do. Harry is still so cold, so unfeeling. Earlier, on the Quidditch pitch when we were showing him how to fly and the different positions for Quidditch, he was so happy, so free with his emotions, Minerva. It was like he was an entirely different boy. But now he's right back to who he's been since I brought him home after the World Cup."
"I wish I could help you, James," McGonagall said, "but it is obvious that your son and I operate on different wavelengths and he is unforgiving towards my words regarding old and barbarous traditions. I do not claim that they are ineffective, just that they no longer have a place in our world anymore. That is something I agree with Albus on, regardless of what else he might have done."
"I guess we'll just have to keep working on him," James said with a sigh. "Minerva, I know you are going to be very tempted to expel him now that you have that power, at least once the Tournament is over, but I am asking you to not do so. If you expel him, he will be allowed to take his wizarding exams and we all know he will pass them without any trouble. He will then take that opportunity to leave and we'll lose him all over again. He'll go back to that monastery, especially now that those bastards are back in his life and taking over his education, at least for this year. So, please, I am begging you, don't expel him, because that's what he wants you to do."
"James, your son refuses to abide by any punishments set down for him," McGonagall said. "He expresses pureblood dogma, twisted though it is, and he has no respect for the reputations or accomplishments of the witches and wizards who are teaching at Hogwarts based on his limited interactions with the staff. The only thing keeping him in this school is the fact that he is a Tournament Champion. If I had my way, he would be out of the school tonight. I do not begrudge you your desire to connect with your son, but even if I was inclined to play favorites in this case, I cannot, because now I am Acting Headmistress. The only way Harry remains a student of Hogwarts after the Tournament is over is if either he shows a dramatic improvement in attitude and deference to witches and wizards who have accomplished masteries just as he has or if someone else is chosen as Headmaster. The reality of the situation is that I am likely to be replaced because I'm Albus' chosen successor and all of his decisions will be called into question. I suspect that if I am replaced, it will be done by the Christmas holidays."
"I understand, Minerva," James said with a sigh. "I had to ask."
"I should go," McGonagall said, setting her cup of tea aside and standing. "For what it's worth… I am so sorry that Iris is facing this trial and I wish I could do something to ease her burden. But she is a strong girl. She gets that strength from both of her parents. I believe Iris may yet prove to have a greater spirit than she has previously revealed. Goodnight, James, Lily." McGonagall turned and headed for the door to Lily's quarters.
*HP*
Iris Potter sniffled as she lay in her four-poster in the fourth-year girls' dorm in Ravenclaw Tower, tears trickling from her eyes and running down her cheek and across the bridge of her nose. The Ravenclaws had accepted that they would learn tomorrow what was going on but that it was possible someone had charmed the Goblet of Fire, and they were smart enough to know that Iris just didn't know that level of magic, so there had been no accusations of her cheating to get into the Tournament. No, her state wasn't because no one believed her, but because everyone believed her and yet that didn't mean she didn't have to compete. She had to, according to Mr. Crouch, and she knew her parents would've argued otherwise if they could have. She had to compete, and she didn't know if she had the skills to do it. The truth was that, even with Hermione as a best friend and being a Ravenclaw, Iris was nowhere close to the other Champions, her brother included, especially if he was right about Durmstrang and Beauxbatons having mastery programs for the final years of their students' education. Iris had maybe to the end of fifth year, or what Hogwarts considered a fifth year curriculum, in her knowledgebase. That was fine for dueling class and such, but a deadly Tournament? No, it wasn't enough. She didn't have enough knowledge and she didn't know what to do to change that, especially since Harry wasn't willing to help.
Harry wasn't willing to help. The words still stung. Harry, her twin, didn't want to help her. He had basically said she was on her own. Iris had long held onto a memory from before Harry was taken, a memory she could recall clearly in her mind, a memory that she had used to power her Patronus last year since the Dementors affected her badly and her father had asked Uncle Remus to teach her the Patronus in his off-hours. It was just a small memory, of the two of them in the playroom at the house in Godric's Hollow after it had been restored. They had been laughing and playing, then Iris had seen a stuffed dragon up on a shelf and wanted it. She had tried to get to it but couldn't and had sat down, crying. She remembered Harry standing and looking up at the dragon and raising his hand, and the dragon had levitated and then come swooping down into her arms. Harry had smiled at her and she had thanked him and hugged him and the dragon both.
She had never shared what memory she used to power her Patronus with anyone. It was a personal memory for her, something that she wanted to keep to herself, because it was something that she could hold onto to remember her brother. But now her brother was back, and he was so different from the little boy who had used wandless magic to get a stuffed toy for his sister and smiled at her so lovingly. He was cold and in some ways even cruel; he seemed to find enjoyment in screwing with everyone and seeing how far he could push someone's buttons; and he didn't care about his family. They had known that he didn't understand the concept too much thanks to his time with the Knights of Walpurgis, but for him to be so unwilling to even consider helping her, helping his sister when she needed him most… "What happened to you, Harry?" Iris whispered to herself. "What happened to my brother?" No answer came, not that she expected one. Iris turned over onto her other side and closed her eyes, knowing she needed to get some sleep even if tomorrow was Sunday. She needed her wits about her when she was publicly declared Hogwarts' Champion.
*HP*
Harry Potter turned over in his bed, trying to fall asleep, trying to do anything except think about the sound of his sister crying as he left their parents' quarters this evening. He didn't understand why this was so disturbing to him. He didn't know Iris, not really, and he had no real understanding of family as the rest of the Potters understood it, so he had no reason to feel guilty or perturbed by the sound of his sister in pain, physical or emotional. But tonight he had primarily reacted to trying to take down Dumbledore because he had heard Iris scream and then felt guilty when he had refused to help her, even if he was well within his rights to refuse to aid her. He was the Walpurgis Monastery's Champion now and Iris the Hogwarts Champion. She needed to showcase what her school had taught her, not what she learned from her brother, who had never trained at Hogwarts.
But still the sound gnawed at him, echoing in his ears like something deep inside of him was trying to break free, trying to remind him of why he should care for Iris, why he should break the Tournament's rules and provide training for someone who was technically his adversary even if she was also his sister. Why was this bothering him so much? Why the hell couldn't he sleep because of this? "Tempus," he muttered, waving a hand in front of himself. The time coalesced before him. It was two a.m. He had gotten back to the Slytherin Common Room at around ten p.m. and had to deal with the congratulations on being chosen as Champion and explain what he knew of what was happening (and he was sure most of those students would be writing their parents about Dumbledore's apparent fall from grace), and then he had come directly to bed. He had been tossing and turning for almost four hours with the sound of his sister's crying ringing in his ears.
"You are troubled," Sinjuri, laying on a rock charmed to be forever warm on Harry's bedside table, hissed.
"Yes," Harry replied. "It's… my sister. My parents and she asked me to help her, to train her, because we've both been entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament, a deadly competition, Iris having been illegally entered by someone for nefarious purposes. I have my suspicions who, but I guess we'll find out eventually. I told them I wouldn't, that the Tournament is for the Champions to represent what their schools are capable of and since Iris will represent Hogwarts, she should represent what Hogwarts is capable of, not what the monastery I was raised in is capable of. I'm going to be the Champion for the monastery. A lot has happened tonight."
"Tell me," Sinjuri hissed. Harry began telling his serpentine friend everything that had happened with the Goblet of Fire, Dumbledore's arrest, and more. After he fell silent, Sinjuri was silent for a moment, then asked, "And you still feel conflicted despite being certain of your choice?"
"Yes," Harry said.
"Then you are not certain of your choice, Harry," Sinjuri hissed. "There is a part of you that doesn't believe you should avoid helping your sister. There is a part of you who wants to connect with her, with your parents, but your time away has made you believe such connections make you weak. You are fighting a war within yourself, Harry, and until you figure out who you are now that you've entered into wizarding society outside of the monastery where you were raised, you will constantly be conflicted. Every being wishes to know their place, Harry. My place is to serve as your familiar and be a confidant when you need it, an aid for Parselmagic, and other such things. What is your place, Harry Potter? Are you the trainee of the Knights of Walpurgis who measures anything and everything, or are you the boy who has been returned to the family that he was stolen from and wants to connect with them, even though he denies this fact even to himself?"
"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Harry stammered.
"Yes, you do," Sinjuri hissed. "We are bound, Harry, as wizard and familiar. I can sense your thoughts and feelings, as alien as they are to me in some cases, especially when you are feeling particularly strong emotions, which is why I must again insist that I come with you everywhere. I cannot aid you as confidant and advisor if I am not present when you need it."
Harry was silent as he contemplated the serpent's words. He knew how the familiar bond worked to a degree but he hadn't realized it worked that deeply. If Sinjuri could sense things like that within him, then maybe there was something there, something that made him want to connect with his family. But what was it? Was there any way to help him solidify who he was? Harry grumbled to himself as he pulled the covers from himself and stood, holding his hand out towards Sinjuri, who slithered up his arm. Harry went to his trunk and opened the library compartment, descending the ladder, not seeing Draco Malfoy poke his head out of the curtains around his own bed and watch curiously as the trunk lid closed behind Harry.
He needed to find a way to figure this out, one way or another.
A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
Ah, Sinjuri is a fun character to write when I write him. I'm gonna have to remind myself that he's supposed to be going everywhere with Harry so he can advise him and such.