The Premonitory Portrait
"In the darkest times, the tiniest flickers of light can sometimes help as much as a thousand candles."
General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk
The world shook. More blasts and explosions ripped through the air. She could hear screams. Where were her parents? Where were Aaron and Blaine? There's Aaron! But what's that on the floor…?
Something fell past her face. The ceiling was caving in! No, it was fluffs of yarn. It was raining the weird, misshapen hats Hermione was knitting for the Hogwarts house-elves. Ronnie was being buried in them, trying to climb out.
She was floating. She must have taken one of those fainting sweets Fred and George were testing on first years last night before Hermione and Marcus told them off. Fred and Angelina are snogging. Oh, Merlin, she's dreaming… Wait, why is she holding a revolver?
The door comes ever closer. She can't stop herself. She wants to see in that door. What's behind that door?! A shadowy figure steps in front of it.
"Harriet?"
Harriet grunted, blinking her blurry eyes open. She rolled over to see the familiar shape of Hermione leaning over her.
"Hmm?" Harriet mumbled, sitting up.
"It's morning," Hermione said.
"Was I talking in my sleep?" Harriet asked, embarrassed.
"No," Hermione replied.
"Huh, that's good," Harriet admitted. "I had more weird dreams…"
Hermione sat beside her, looking worried. "More?"
"Yeah," Harriet admitted. "Just weird… random things. Like… memories that aren't my own?"
Hermione grimaced. "Harriet… do you think this is related to your Legilimency?"
Hermione glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the room. Harriet knew why Hermione was worrying. People were worried enough about her being an Obscurial. She could only imagine what would happen if they found out she could read minds.
"I've thought that," Harriet admitted.
She'd had her Occlumency lesson the night before. She'd been unable to stay in the common room afterwards because she kept getting flashes of what everyone around her was thinking. While the Occlumency lesson itself had not been as troublesome as she was more prepared, she couldn't help but feel it had just made her more vulnerable to mental intrusion, not less.
Hermione looked off, musing. "It would explain why you've been having trouble sleeping."
Harriet was about to slide out of bed, but Hermione put a hand on hers.
"Thank you for confiding in me, Harriet…" Hermione said.
Harriet smiled a little. "Of course."
Hermione smiled back before rising to let Harriet up. Harriet dressed, and they headed down to the common room. Hermione quickly went to the spot where she'd left the misshapen, knitted hats. To her disappointment, they were all still there. The elves had neatly picked up the trash she had placed on the pile, but left all the hats.
Fred and George were giving Hermione cool looks. She'd threatened to write to Mrs Weasley if they continued testing their products on first-years.
Harriet led her friends out through the portrait hole. She didn't want to think about those things anymore. She had enough on her mind. The Great Hall was abuzz with gossip, but for once, Harriet was sure it wasn't about her. Most eyes that she could see were on Captain Kane.
He was sitting back in his chair as though nothing was happening. He was casually sipping coffee while reading a book. Harriet squinted, just able to make out the title: The Book of Five Rings.
"He is a warrior and a scholar," Mayu Watanuki said wistfully.
She and the rest of the Gryffindor fourth-years were sitting close by. Mayu, Minako Minagawa, and Minami Takamiya all sighed dreamily watching him.
"How so?" Ryan Yukisaki asked.
"He is reading The Book of Five Rings," Minako said importantly. "They are the teachings of Miyamoto Musashi, the world's greatest swordsman. He was never defeated in sixty duels!"
Minami and Mayu nodded in agreement. Ryan was staring at them blankly.
Mayu gave Ryan a surprised, almost pitying look. "Yukisaki-san, do you know nothing of your heritage?"
Ryan lowered his head a little, looking slightly ashamed. "I know some, but not… you know..."
Ginny's ears turned red, always a Weasley warning sign.
"He's lived his whole life in Britain," Ginny defended Ryan. "This is his heritage."
Mayu looked as though Ginny had smacked her before she too lowered her head. Minako and Minami looked affronted.
"Gomen-nasai…" Mayu muttered under her breath.
"She's new here, Ginny," Minako declared. "She's still learning."
"What's going on here?" came the voice of Percy—now professor—Weasley.
The group of fourth-years fell silent. Most were looking up at him with apprehension, except for Ginny, who was defiant. Ginny was about to say something when Mayu stood and bowed to Professor Weasley.
"I was inconsiderate and hurt Yukisaki-san's feelings, Weasley-sensei," Mayu said.
Percy blinked, taken aback at the up-front admission of guilt.
"Oh, I-I see, Watanuki-kun," Percy said, recovering and returning her little bow. "I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding."
Mayu looked briefly impressed. Harriet supposed Percy was addressing her correctly. She was having trouble making sense of all the different suffixes Mayu used addressing people.
"Understandings often happen with clashing cultures, but that is to be expected, and okay. It is our job, when they happen, to learn from each other so we grow, and make sure they never happen again."
Percy smiled indulgently at Mayu. "I previously worked in the office of International Magical Cooperation, you know? I had to learn all about the varied, fascinating cultures of Four Nations students."
Mayu turned to Ryan and bowed to him. "Please accept my apology, Yuk—Ryan."
Ryan went as red as a Weasleys' hair. "Th-that's okay, Mayu. Really."
Ginny rolled her eyes, resuming eating.
Percy was studying the table. "You know, we have quite a variety of students in Gryffindor house, now. Quite astonishing. You know what?" he smiled down at the fourth-years again. "What do you say, as a treat for Gryffindor House, one of these weekends we have an international event? Something where we can all share bits of our culture and heritages? Really bring Gryffindor House together?"
"That… would be pretty cool, Professor," Katy Tyler admitted.
The rest nodded in agreement. Even Ginny looked as though she was having a hard time disapproving of this plan. Harriet had to admit that she thought it was a good idea, too, even if she was annoyed with Percy for what he'd said in the Daily Prophet over the summer about her being brainwashed by Solomon Kinney and Dumbledore.
Suddenly Percy flicked his wand just in time to stop a pair of roast kippers from hitting the side of his head.
"Nice try, but that's detention for each of you," Percy said resignedly.
No one was in any doubt who he meant.
"The glory is in the struggle, Perce," Fred called from farther down the table.
Widespread giggles swept over the Gryffindors, and more than a few Hufflepuffs. Harriet couldn't help but join in. Even Hermione's lips were twitching.
Percy moved up to the staff table. He attempted to engage Captain Kane in conversation, but Captain Kane gave him such a cold look that Percy quickly became much more interested in his breakfast.
Marcus was prodding his food with his fork. Of all of them, Marcus had gotten along the worst with Percy. He'd received numerous detentions from Percy over the years for standing up to Percy's authoritarian reign as a prefect and then head boy.
"He does seem to have matured a great deal," Hermione said, glancing sideways at Marcus. "He's…"
"Downright friendly," Kieran admitted.
Marcus merely shrugged.
"At least he doesn't think you've been brainwashed," Harriet said miserably.
Kieran grimaced. "Sorry… you're right."
"Still wonder what Fern meant?" Marcus pondered. "He doesn't seem any weirder than usual…"
"Maybe that's what's weird?" Kieran offered before he looked around. "Where is Fern?"
"I'm not sure," Hermione explained. "It's so frustrating with her being in Ursula House with all its secrets."
"Better get used to it," Marcus muttered. "It's only the second day…"
Just then, Rachel came up to them. She was wringing her hands in worry.
"Have either of you seen Jackson?" she asked Kieran and Marcus.
Marcus grimaced. "He came to bed last night, but he left early this morning."
Rachel bit her lip with worry, bouncing on the balls of her feet a little.
"Rachel, dear, what is it?" Hermione asked.
Harriet's forehead was hurting. She was starting to feel anxious as well. She still wasn't over Occlumency.
"He… the whole thing with the pistol yesterday upset him, I can tell, but he doesn't want to talk about it."
"I'm sure he's alright," Kieran said gently. "Maybe he just went for a walk. If he's not in Charms then we can start to worry, I think."
"Have you checked the hospital wing?" Marcus suggested.
Rachel's eyes widened. "I haven't! You don't think? I'll go right now!"
"Rachel," Hermione said rising and putting a hand on Rachel's arm. "If he's in the hospital wing he's getting the best care he could ever hope for. There's no need to panic."
"You're right," Rachel said, calming slightly. "Still, I'll go check the hospital wing. Thanks."
They finished breakfast. They were just heading out the door into the entrance hall when a girl suddenly appeared in front of Harriet. They bumped into each other. Harriet took a step back, but the girl continued past Harriet.
"Sorry, in a hurry," the girl said.
Harriet was too taken aback by the abruptness of the encounter to say anything. She recognised the girl, but couldn't place her name. She'd come with the Americans and was in Ravenclaw.
"The hell, Ash?" Ronnie asked.
The girl said nothing, continuing to sit with Fern's old friends. She sat next to Holly Cambridge, and the pair immediately began whispering to each other out of the corners of their mouths. Just then, Harriet remembered seeing the girl sitting with Holly Cambridge outside the Great Hall during the Yule Ball, giving Holly the kind of smile she wanted Finn to give her.
"Who's that?" Hermione asked.
"Ashley Roth," Ronnie said. "One of the Yanks. She's usually really shy and quiet."
They said no more on the strange subject as they headed off to Charms. Harriet was relieved to see that Rachel had indeed found Jackson. He looked ghostly pale and twitchy.
"M'fine," Jackson mumbled as Rachel dabbed his forehead with a hankie for him.
"We need to take you to the hospital wing," Rachel said. "Or you at least need some sleep!"
"I got sleep," Jackson retorted.
"How much?" Rachel asked, putting her hands on her hips.
"…maybe an hour," Jackson mumbled guiltily.
At that moment, Professor Flitwick opened the door and ushered the students inside. After they sat, Professor Flitwick joined the refrain of their teachers the previous day in launching at once into dire warnings about the importance of their upcoming examinations. Fortunately, he set them to rehashing the Summoning Charm that he had taught them last year. As Harriet now had ample practice, this meant she didn't have to add to the homework that Professor Robertson had given them.
Ronnie's feet seemed to grow heavier with each step towards the Transfiguration classroom.
"Oh Ronnie," Hermione said gently. "It's going to be alright."
"You weren't there," Ronnie growled. "The things he said to Dad…"
"Then this is your chance to be the bigger person," Hermione smiled.
Ronnie rolled her eyes. If Harriet knew Ronnie, she was strongly wishing she had brought food to throw at Percy's head as well. Possibly worse.
Probably worse.
Percy was waiting for them. He looked perfectly at ease as the students entered and took their usual seats.
"Welcome Gryffindors," Percy smiled around at them. "Some very familiar faces!"
No one responded. Percy seemed bound and determined to press on with his lesson despite any awkwardness.
"Now we're all here; I suppose I should get the most unpleasant bit out of the way. You all know what I'm about to bring up, yes?"
"O.W.L.s," the class said in unison, sounding miserable.
Percy chortled. "Precisely. I know it doesn't seem like it, but O.W.L.s are critical in helping you find a future career path that best suits your talents. It's what your education is all about!"
Harriet and Hermione exchanged sideways glances. As Marcus had joked, so far the only weird thing about Percy was how normal he was acting. He seemed genuinely happy to be teaching.
Ronnie and Marcus weren't paying much attention. Percy appeared to be overlooking them. Harriet figured he was smart enough to know why neither of them was being all that friendly just yet.
Harriet's attention was starting to wan. Percy Weasley. She'd been around him plenty since befriending the Weasleys. She'd stayed at his house before. She'd kept his secret that he had a girlfriend for him (not that Percy had known). And yet he had the gall to tell The Daily Prophet that Solomon Kinney was controlling her, and Professor Dumbledore was in league with him. Like Dumbledore needs Solomon Kinney's help to be more popular than Fudge!
"Miss Potter-Dusk?"
The room was quiet. Everyone was looking at her.
Percy's face was kind and worried. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, fine," Harriet said quickly.
"Okay…" he sounded doubtful. "Please turn to page 188 in our text. We're starting Vanishing Spells today. While they're easier than Conjuring Spells, which you'll study at N.E.W.T. level, they are still incredibly difficult, so you will all need to study hard on them and focus."
Percy wasn't wrong. Harriet's sense of frustration grew with each failed attempt to vanish her snail. Hermione didn't help. She'd succeeded on the third try and was now trying to give Harriet pep-talks and pointers. Harriet bitterly wondered why Hermione was focusing so much on her. Ronnie was having just as hard a time.
"I'll get it, Hermione!" Harriet snapped, louder than she'd intended.
Where was her anger coming from? She hadn't slept particularly well. She hadn't been sleeping well at all if she was honest with herself.
"Miss Potter-Dusk, are you sure you're alright?" Percy asked.
Harriet swallowed and took a few breaths to calm herself. She could hear Parvati and Lavender whispering a few rows behind her. She decided to take a couple more calming breaths.
"Now, now," Percy said, addressing the two girls. "There's nothing to worry about. Harriet's had a hard past-year, and she needs kindness and respect."
Harriet blinked. Respect? Who the hell was Percy to talk about respect? However, did this mean he didn't think she was an Obscurial? Harriet narrowed her eyes. Not good enough.
"Yeah, I'm not dangerous, I'm just Confunded or something," Harriet grumbled.
This time she wanted to be heard. Dean snorted back a laugh. Percy looked affronted. Something about that shocked look on Percy's face made Harriet feel deeply satisfied.
Harriet wanted him to shout. She wanted him to get angry. Instead, Percy gathered himself.
"Now is not the time or place for such a discussion, Miss Potter-Dusk," Percy said. "Everyone, please resume."
The class ceased muttering and was filled with students saying "Evanesco!" at increasingly irritable volumes. Harriet felt even more troubled. Percy kept calling her Potter-Dusk. Not even Captain Kane or Professor Snape had remembered to do that.
She looked up at Percy. He had been the one to witness the adoption. Percy's name was on her official documents. Somehow, she had felt suspicious of that. But what did that mean? If anything at all?
By the end of class, Hermione remained the only student to vanish her snail successfully. Percy showered praise on her for her talents. Hermione looked as though she wanted to be pleased with herself, but out of friendship with Harriet and Ronnie, she kept herself to simply smiling.
"Miss Potter-Dusk," Percy said as the students finished putting away their snails. "Please see me at my desk."
Harriet's guard went up at once. Percy's voice was calm, perhaps even caring, but she had never been called to the teacher's desk at the end of a lesson for something good.
Percy sat behind his desk as Harriet reached him. He picked up a small card and held it out to her.
"What's this?" Harriet asked, taking it.
"It is a referral, Miss Potter-Dusk," Percy said. "And despite our past familiarities, you are now to refer to me as 'sir' or 'professor'."
"A referral for what, sir?" Harriet corrected.
"To see Counsellor Umbridge," Percy explained.
"Why?" Harriet asked, before remembering. "Professor."
Percy's face was kind. "You've been through a great deal, Harriet; a great deal… no one's going to deny that. I'm not sure what sort of help you've had with your experiences, but I want to you know that we are here for you. We are here to help, whatever terrible things have happened."
"Like the Ministry Obliviating six-hundred Muggles and Squibs, sir?" Harriet asked before she could stop herself.
Percy's lips tightened. "The Ministry's darkest hour…" he admitted. "It's part of why I got promoted… despite the… Crouch unpleasantness…"
Percy gave his head a shake. "Sorry, Miss Potter-Dusk, irrelevant. Anyway, I am going to tell Counsellor Umbridge that I spoke with you about some counselling sessions. Perhaps at a meal, today, stop up to the staff table and have a word with her. She'll be expecting it."
"Y-yes, sir," Harriet said.
She pocketed the card and bid Percy good morning before heading off after her friends who were waiting for her at the door.
"What'd he want?" Ronnie asked at once, not caring that her voice was certainly loud enough to have carried far enough for Percy to hear.
"Said he wants me to talk to Counsellor Umbridge," Harriet shrugged.
Kieran's eyes narrowed. "Did he?"
"Yeah," Harriet said.
Kieran chewed the inside of his lip. He clearly remained dubious of Counsellor Umbridge's qualifications.
"Dunno," Harriet said. "I don't think I need it. I'll have Sebastian back soon."
Harriet reached back into her pocket for the card. It had slipped down, and as Harriet dug for it, she paused. There was something else in her pocket. Harriet pulled out a small, folded up piece of parchment. She paused, opening it.
Harriet,
I'm sorry to have to do this so indirectly. I'm Holly Cambridge. I regret having to make Ashley use some of her skills she'd rather forget about, but I have little choice. She's the only person I trust to get you this note.
Something is very weird about Umbridge House. Umbridge is up to something. We need to talk. Just the two of us. Meet in the library tomorrow lunchtime. Confirm Umbridge, Filch, and Weasley are in the Great Hall first. She gets on too well with Filch.
Your friend Scott is compromised. The Aurors are watching Colm. We think they're looking for Finn. They must have found out he disappeared. They might be looking for his memories, too. Something's wrong with Colm. Something's wrong with everyone. Can't say any more. Destroy this.
Tomorrow lunchtime.
Holly Cambridge
Harriet stared at the note, trying to process it. Umbridge House? Was that a slip, or a new slang for the house? It certainly seemed more appropriate.
"Who's that from?" Kieran asked.
"Holly," Harriet replied.
"Holly?" Ronnie asked. "Cambridge? When'd she give you that?"
"I think that Ashley girl put it in my pocket when she bumped into me," Harriet explained, handing the note to Marcus, who drew his wand and set the note on fire at once.
"You are way too eager to do that," Ronnie said.
"Jealous," Marcus retorted.
Ronnie stuck her tongue out at him.
"What did she want?" Hermione asked.
Harriet looked around the group. She couldn't tell Kieran what Holly had said about Scott. She did not regret her eagerness to hand the note to Marcus for immolation.
"She wants to meet me tomorrow. Just me and her."
Hermione, Marcus, and Kieran exchanged looks. Ronnie, however, didn't look that bothered.
"I bet it's important. Holly's pretty cool. She doesn't seem like the other Rathlin kids. She hates that Umbridge woman, for one."
"Okay, that's reassuring," Kieran said, smiling again.
"She sounds really worried," Harriet said. "She said there's something really bad going on in her house… I think that's why she's being so paranoid and only wants to meet me alone."
Marcus snorted. "Well, this is a fun position to be in… you get one note telling you to meet with Umbridge, and another telling you to meet with someone else because Umbridge is shady…"
Harriet grimaced. He had a point. This was going to get interesting in ways that probably weren't going to be very fun.
Half an hour later, they were standing in the grounds next to Hagrid's still vacant hut. Harriet was having a hard time keeping herself from worrying. However, if Professor Sutler and Professor Stratton weren't back, then she was sure Hagrid still being gone was according to plan. But she did miss him, dearly.
Ronnie was practically vibrating with excitement. Dora smiled affectionately at her, as she always did whenever Ronnie's childish excitement bubbled over. Even Pansy and Pixie were looking eager to see what the great Newt Scamander had to offer, even if he was incognito for reasons no one understood.
"Welcome, welcome," came the cheerful, if aged, voice of Professor Namander.
He stepped around the edge of Hagrid's hut, moving towards them leaning heavily on his walking stick. Harriet felt a bit of affection rise in her too. He put her rather in mind of a much older Kieran if he decided to follow Magizoology rather than healing.
"Good afternoon, professor!" Ronnie blurted out, still trembling slightly.
A wave of giggles washed over the class, but Professor Namander smiled gently behind his false-beard.
"And a good afternoon to you as well, Miss Weasley," he chortled.
"He knows me," Ronnie gasped, her jaw hanging open. Dora rolled her eyes and closed it for her with a fingertip.
Professor Namander's old eyes scanned the students.
"Gryffindor and Slytherin, eh? Well, that'll make the class rather interesting."
"It is a pleasure to study under you, Professor," Parvati said sycophantically.
"Yes, thank you, Miss Patil," Professor Namander said, hobbling past her, beckoning the students to follow him.
Harriet felt her anger boil to the surface again. Parvati and Lavender were following Professor Namander with equal excitement to Ronnie. However, Harriet knew full well that neither were that interested in magical creatures. They were just happy not to have a class being taught by Hagrid.
Dora was walking along after Parvati and Lavender, mimicking them behind their backs, though exaggerating to make them seem air-headed and vapid. Harriet and her friends, and quite a few Gryffindors and Slytherins sniggered at this.
Professor Namander lead them towards the paddock where Hagrid had shown them the Hippogriffs, and Professor Sutler, the Ceryneian deer. Harriet could hear hooves, which piqued her interest. However, she also heard deep laughter. No sooner had she heard it when Jackson gasped. He pushed past everyone, running towards the paddock.
Professor Namander merely chortled watching the boy hurry into the woods, his old eyes twinkling merrily. Harriet heard Jackson's cry of delight and knew at once whom the laughter and hoof stomps had belonged. It was Epeius.
The class broke into the clearing around the paddock. Sure enough, Epeius was inside the paddock, dancing around happily with Jackson. Harriet glanced around the class. Even Pansy and Pixie were having a hard time not looking charmed at the sight of handsome Jackson's bright, smiling face as the pretty horse pranced around him. Rachel's expression was more than a little dreamy.
However, Harriet then noticed that the pair were not alone in the paddock. All around, ruffling their feathers and flapping their stubby wings, milling about and squawking in agitation, were birds Harriet recognised for a change.
Harriet was about to speak when Ronnie shrieked with excitement.
"Diricawl! Diricawl! Diricawl! Diricawl!" Ronnie declared, jumping up and down and clapping with glee.
"Diricawl?" Harriet asked. "Aren't they called dodos?"
"Both correct," Professor Namander chortled, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief.
"But I thought they were extinct," Harriet said.
"Something we've tried hard to ensure Muggles keep thinking," Professor Namander said, "For the protection of the diricawl and other creatures. Muggles thought they wiped out the diricawl, or dodo as they called them, many years ago. Muggles felt a bit guilty about this and so started to care better for creatures. We let them get on with it."
The diricawl were starting to calm down as Jackson and Epeius' antics ceased, and Ronnie stopped hopping up and down clapping. Now she was down on her knees, cooing at them through the fence.
"Not to say that we of the magical world have not come close to repeating the Muggles' mistakes… we very nearly wiped out the graphorn, and numerous other magical species, and in a few cases succeeded…"
Professor Namander cleared his throat.
Blaise Zabini was looking dubious at the portly birds. "Alright, so other than a nice meal, what are these good for?"
Professor Namander was about to reply when Ronnie rounded on him. "And why does a magical creature have to be 'useful' to be worth anything?"
Blaise scowled at her. Most of the Gryffindors sniggered tauntingly at Zabini, as did a few of the less awful Slytherins, and all of the alright ones.
"That's quite right," Professor Namander said. "You're Miss Ronnie Weasley, aren't you?" Professor Namander said, scratching under his fake beard before remembering and taking his hand out to scratch through it instead.
"Yes, Professor," Ronnie said, breathless at being addressed by one of her heroes.
Professor Namander chortled. "Yes, my predecessors Professor Hagrid and Sutler both left me notes about you and your interests in magical creatures, birds in particular. Why I thought starting off in avian fashion would be the correct decision."
Ronnie was grinning a little dumbstruck.
"And I started with the diricawl precisely because of their being eaten," Professor Namander said, sadly.
The class listened with surprising attention. Harriet was sure that even if Care of Magical Creatures was not everyone's favourite subject, they all saw through his thin disguise, and were eager to hear the words of such an expert in the field.
"Long ago, Muggles and wizards alike found the sweet diricawl on the island of Mauritius. It did not know how to deal with humans at first. The poor things had never seen them before."
Professor Namander hobbled up to the edge of the paddock. He bent low, gently rubbing the top of the long beak of the largest specimen. It cooed and warbled in appreciation.
"They were first discovered in 1598," Professor Namander said. "Humans began hunting them for food… Mauritius, upon its discovery, became a vital stop for ships sailing for India. In those days they had to go all the way around the southern tip of Africa. The last recorded wild diricawl on Mauritius was in 1662…"
Parvati gasped. She wasn't being a kiss-up now. Harriet realised the horrible truth too. That was less than a hundred years.
"The diricawl has a special property… it can Apparate short distances, much like we humans can. It cannot Apparate nearly as far, but enough to evade predators. There was one predator it could not evade, however."
Professor Namander tickled under another's beak. "Rats… they invaded the island and began raiding diricawl nests. The adults could evade humans and cats and dogs with ease… but their eggs were helpless."
Professor Namander lifted his floppy, wide-brimmed hat off his head and ran a hand over his bald-spot. Harriet's lips twitched as she noticed this made the ear-hooks all the more obvious.
"It was only by luck the diricawl survived…" Professor Namander went on. "Some were relocated to the nearby island of Reunion and other uninhabited islands. So the diricawl survived, but to this day the island of Mauritius is empty of them."
"But they're so sweet," AJ said, looking at the birds with pity and affection.
"These have been raised in captivity," Professor Namander explained. "They have never had a reason to fear humans… just as their ancestors didn't."
"May we pet them?" Dora's Slytherin friend, Sae, asked.
"Of course, of course," Professor Namander said. "Though it is best to approach slowly and quietly, and with food."
Professor Namander reached down as if grabbing for something. His hand closed on air, and he stared at the spot for a while, sadness radiating from him.
Harriet's eyebrows twitched. She suddenly had a clear image of a dusty, old, brown case. It was something precious, a treasure beyond words.
She was distracted by Professor Namander drawing his wand and giving it a flick, mumbling "Accio". A pail came floating towards them, settling down by the fence.
Ronnie was the first to reach into the pail. She drew out not seeds, but a handful of blueberries. The diricawl became restless again, but now they seemed excited, wiggling their fluffy tails almost like excited dogs. Professor Namander stayed back, smiling approvingly.
Ronnie did not hold her hand out, however. Instead, she spread the blueberries the ground in front of the portly birds. They began darting their large-beaked heads down with surprising rapidity, gobbling up the little fruit. Ronnie giggled again.
She finally stood up and moved back. AJ hurried up now, reaching into the pail and pulling out some berries. Unlike Ronnie, she held her hand out to them.
"Wait!" Professor Namander said, but it was too late.
AJ yelped in pain and drew her hand back. There was a noticeable cut on her palm, and the diricawl yelped and squawked. In an instant, the whole flock was on the entire opposite side of the paddock; so fast they could only have apparated.
"Ow, ow, ow," AJ hissed, a little trickle of blood forming on the cut.
"Dear oh dear," Professor Namander said, hobbling over to AJ and taking her hand gingerly in his. "Yes, a nasty nip there. Gotta watch out for that. Unwise to let a diricawl feed from your hand. Not their fault, don't know their own strength or the sharpness of their beaks."
Professor Namander had his wand out, gently tracing the tip back and forth across AJ's hand. As the class watched, the blood vanished, and the cut seemed to seal itself again, vanishing without even a scar.
"Blimey, could give Miss Momori and Madam Pomfrey a run for their money, sir," Dean Thomas declared.
Professor Namander chuckled. "Years of experience, mistakes are, after all, the very best teacher."
AJ was looking at her hand. She was still sulking. Harriet didn't know why, but despite her hostile feelings towards AJ, Parvati, and Lavender over the dormitory issue, she felt a twinge of sympathy for AJ. Parvati put an arm around AJ's shoulder.
"They reminded me of our chickens back home," she said under her breath.
"Had chickens, did you?" Professor Namander asked, smiling. "Lovely birds. Fascinating and so fun."
AJ sniffed and nodded. It was an odd moment. Harriet was used to seeing AJ being tough, a consummate tomboy who hated the fact that the Hogwarts uniform required her to wear a skirt. It was almost unsettling to see her being so vulnerable, particularly in front of the whole class.
"And turkeys," AJ went on.
"You'll have to tell me all about them," Professor Namander said. "Now, come along here."
Professor Namander guided AJ up to the paddock fence again. She clearly wanted to keep her distance, but Professor Namander leaned down as best he could, scooping out more berries and spread them over the ground. The diricawl returned, eating furiously again. He very gently rested a hand on top of the largest one's back. He stroked gently with the feathers. Once it finished eating, the diricawl clacked its beak contentedly and puffed up, settling down on the ground and cooing in appreciation of the petting.
"Give it a try," Professor Namander said, moving back.
AJ knelt. Her hand was trembling a bit with trepidation as she reached out for the diricawl, but it made no move to pull away. It kept sitting peacefully as AJ slowly set her hand on its fluffy back.
"Whoa," AJ said.
"Yes… good so few people know they're still around, eh? Imagine how people would treat them if they knew their feathers were this soft? They'd be harvested for their feathers at once…"
Zabini was suddenly giving the diricawl a shrewd look that unsettled Harriet deeply. Professor Namander didn't seem to notice.
The class began to move forward again. Harriet almost gasped herself when she set her hand on the fluffy back of the diricawl. It didn't feel like feathers, more like she was caressing a living, breathing, cotton ball.
She ended up with one of the younger, smaller ones. It warbled and cooed looking up at her, before nimbly nipping off one of the buttons on her sleeve-cuff.
"Hey," she giggled as the diricawl swallowed—and promptly spat back out—the button.
"Ah-ah," Professor Namander smiled. "They do tend to peck at shiny things, yes."
"Just a button," Harriet giggled. "There's more important things…"
"I can sew on a new one," Hermione said.
"…That might not be such a good idea," Ronnie cautioned. "If your knitting's any indication."
Hermione didn't speak to Ronnie for the rest of the day.
All through breakfast the following morning, Harriet was sure that Professor Umbridge was watching her. Harriet's paranoia was likely not helped by the fact she had not slept the previous night. She couldn't think of what to do with Finn. She shouldn't have brought him to Hogwarts. She should have left him in Mountain Home.
Harriet could barely focus in her classes that morning. Professor Robertson's lesson was interesting, but Harriet could barely keep her eyes open. She was so tired that by the time they got to their next class, she had already forgotten what Professor Robertson's lecture had focused upon. Luckily, Hermione offered her notes for Harriet to read after she got some proper rest.
Harriet stood outside the Great Hall while Ronnie checked the coast was clear. If Holly was there, Ronnie would tell her that Harriet was waiting in the library.
"Umbridge, Filch, and Perce all accounted for," Ronnie said. "But Holly's not there. She might be in the library already."
"Thanks!"
Harriet hurried off towards the library. Her mind raced as she went. Should she give Finn to Holly? Maybe that would be the safest?
Harriet stopped. The pain of what she had seen in the memory stopped her, and guilt washed over her. Finn wanted Harriet to have his memories. It would be a betrayal.
Harriet reached the library. She couldn't remember coming to the library during a meal before. It was deathly silent. She jumped as she caught sight of Professor Robertson sitting at the librarian's desk, eating lunch.
"Oh, h-hello, sir," Harriet said.
"Good afternoon, Miss Potter," Professor Robertson said. "Trouble sleeping? You seemed a bit dazed in class this morning."
His tone wasn't accusatory, more concerned as he studied her face.
"Yes, sir," Harriet admitted, shifting her weight from foot to foot.
"I can only imagine, with all you've been through," he said. "Hence I made no remarks in class."
"Thank you, sir," Harriet said. "Why are you eating here alone?"
Professor Robertson chuckled. "I generally eat here alone, though I used to go into the Hog's Head before it began to rival the Three Broomsticks in popularity. I prefer the quiet."
"I can't argue with that," Harriet agreed. "Wait, the Hog's Head's popular?"
Professor Robertson snorted with amused disgust. "Ever since the barman hired a few of the American girls to work there. They cleaned the place top to bottom, it seems. The place is rolling in coin now. People seem more disposed to drink there now with cheeky, smiling American girls running the place."
Professor Robertson shook his head. "I never much cared for people. People are short-sighted and borderline hive-minded. They act before they think, and when they do think they tend to try and follow the group, because it's easier to agree than to argue."
Harriet thought. "I guess you have a point..."
"See, trying to agree in order to fit in already," Professor Robertson said, winking.
Harriet flushed a little. Once more, Professor Robertson had a point, but was Harriet just agreeing again? Or was he right? She was too tired for this.
Professor Robertson picked up a book. "That's why I've always found my solace in books, Miss Potter. Books are how you can look into the mind of a person. You can pick them apart with no obfuscation. They cannot hide after the written word lands on the page."
"I never thought of it like that, sir," Harriet said.
"Not many do," Professor Robertson said. "Just like not many are taught the reason history is so important. Most are never taught why books are important. Books are the tool of history. It cannot function without them. You cannot take everything within at face value. Study all books sceptically but study them. Read as many as you can."
Harriet flushed. She'd never thought of books that way.
"Only real reading I've ever done has been textbooks and... well..."
Harriet thought it was childish to admit her love of Nancy Drew books.
Professor Robertson smiled again. "Are you familiar with Carl Sagan, Miss Potter?"
Harriet shook her head.
"Brilliant scientific mind. A Muggle, you know? Sadly, he was just recently diagnosed with cancer, a grim diagnosis in the Muggle world... anyway, he's an astronomer, among his many talents, and he once put it best how marvellous books are. I remember the quote by heart."
Professor Robertson cleared his throat.
"What an astonishing thing a book is. It's a flat object made from a tree with flexible parts on which are imprinted lots of funny dark squiggles. But one glance at it and you're inside the mind of another person, maybe somebody dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, an author is speaking clearly and silently inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people who never knew each other, citizens of distant epochs. Books break the shackles of time. A book is proof that humans are capable of working magic."
"Wow..." Harriet said under her breath, digesting the quote.
"I've always found that last bit a funny little irony," Professor Robertson chuckled.
Harriet was studying Professor Robertson. If Professor Namander reminded Harriet of an older Kieran, Professor Robertson was certainly an older Scott. She remembered all too well Scott telling her how he preferred reading books or being in the forest to being around normal people.
"Well, think on that, Miss Potter," Professor Robertson said. "Find your own meaning and thoughts on them. I'll leave you to meet Miss Cambridge."
Harriet blinked. How did he know?
"She's the only other student in here," Professor Robertson said, picking up his sandwich. "It was an easy assumption."
Harriet nodded awkwardly and bid him good afternoon. Now her mind was really racing. Should she be worried now that Professor Robertson knew about her meeting with Holly? Might he say something Percy or Umbridge would overhear?
Harriet wasn't sure where Holly was. She should have asked. She wandered the shelves until she finally saw Holly sitting alone at a table. Harriet made her way over.
"Sorry if I'm late," Harriet said as she sat.
Holly didn't look upset or impatient. She wasn't smiling, either. She seemed to have the same business-like air she had in both her letter to Fern over the summer, and the note to Harriet the previous day. Holly merely tossed her long, ginger braid back over her shoulder and gave Harriet a passable attempt at a smile.
"Nothing to worry," Holly said. "I didn't give a specific time. You hurrying too much would look suspicious."
"Hadn't thought of that," Harriet said.
"I suppose you want to be brought up to speed on the strange goings on in our house?" Holly offered.
"Please," Harriet said. "Fern's cagey about it."
Holly sniffed. "I imagine. She's like that. Anyway, I must confess, I was not present when the Ministry attacked Rathlin. I had already gone home the previous day. As a result, I don't know anything for certain about what happened. However, that may be working in my favour, as I don't have to attend Umbridge's 'therapy' sessions like the rest."
Harriet tried hard to focus on what Holly was saying, but her tired mind kept drifting.
"I… admittedly lost control a bit when I found out about Finn," Holly said, her wall coming down a bit and looking a little embarrassed. "He's our goofy big brother, though he and I are the same age."
Harriet smiled a little. "Yeah, that's what everyone's said…"
"Anyway, as I'm not in these sessions, it's allowed me to notice strange patterns and developments. For instance, I was not invited to attend the 'orientation' fortnight."
Harriet furrowed her brow.
"Right. It was only Rathlin students who witnessed the attack who had to come. I was in steady correspondence with… what's left of my friends… all summer. Prior to the orientation, all of them spoke horribly of the Ministry. Then I lost contact while they were in orientation. When I arrived they had completely changed… They act like they're in love with Umbridge now in particular…"
"Fern has been fairly complimentary of her…"
"I don't doubt it," Holly sniffed. "Umbridge dotes on her."
Harriet grimaced, but all she could think about was how the table in front of her looked oddly comfortable right at that moment. Who said hard, scratched and worn tables make bad pillows?
Harriet became aware that Holly was still speaking. She was looking up at the ceiling, and apparently hadn't noticed Harriet's weary attention waning.
"Someone is tampering with their memories. The most obvious suspect is Umbridge. She apparently worships Fudge, so naturally she would want the Rathlin students to like the Ministry."
Holly leaned back in her chair in agitation. "My other suspect is Professor Weasley, if only because of the way all my classmates seem put off by him. He's in the Ministry, too, and he rose a bit too quickly, and he's a bit too close with Umbridge."
Harriet's eyes were still having a hard time focusing.
"Most likely… I'd say they're working together."
"Maybe," Harriet said. "Percy—Professor Weasley—wants me to talk to Umbridge… get counselling…"
Holly's eyes widened. "So that's why she's been watching you the last couple of days…"
"Okay, so I'm not paranoid," Harriet muttered.
"Not this time I don't think. And if Professor Weasley is trying to get you to talk to her…" Holly thought hard. "I think you should do it."
"What?"
"We need someone to talk to her and find out more," Holly said. "She doesn't want to talk to me about anything… so you're our best choice."
Harriet rubbed her forehead. She supposed this made sense. What real hurt could it do?
"Yeah, good call I think," Harriet agreed.
"Splendid," Holly smiled. "Now, second thing: who of your friends do you trust absolutely?"
Harriet's mind at once began working, and yet went nowhere. Who did she trust? Hermione, of course. Normally Scott, but now if he was compromised he was out of the question. She definitely had confided the most in Kieran, but Scott was his best friend, and Kieran was sure to get angry if Harriet tried to tell him he should be careful what he said to Scott. There was Ronnie, but Ronnie wasn't often serious enough for situations like this. There was Dora, of course. And what about Marcus? She wasn't nearly as close with Marcus, but he was always there for any of them if they needed someone.
"Good," Holly said.
"What?" Harriet blinked. "I haven't named anyone."
"It means there's no one you trust completely; which means you're smart in this kind of a situation," Holly explained.
"Oh," Harriet mumbled. "I have a few of my friends I trust pretty well, though. Hermione for sure."
"I'd trust Dora and Ronnie, too," Holly added. "I've had some good talks with them. Especially Dora. She's everything Krystelle said she was."
"Dora's definitely something," Harriet admitted.
Suddenly, something occurred to her. She had Rachel and Tori. They hated Umbridge, and the Americans had all promised Harriet help anytime she needed it.
"And they're not super close," Harriet admitted, "but I do have some American friends who I think we can trust."
"I'd give a passing grade to most any of the Americans," Holly said. "They hate Umbridge with a passion. Even the Slytherin ones, which is surprising to me. Umbridge was a Slytherin herself so she's pretty chummy with them."
Harriet shook her head. "How do you know all this?"
Holly shrugged. "My mom's an Auror, and I was a nosy little brat when I was a kid who didn't know how to keep my nose out of other people's business."
Holly's eyes were twinkling a little. She was definitely praising herself more than reprimanding.
Harriet snorted. "People say I'm nosy, too."
"Precisely why I need you," Holly said.
Harriet furrowed her brow. Holly needed her?
"Why we need each other," Holly corrected herself. "Sorry; I'm used to being the one... you know?"
"I suppose," Harriet said. "I guess that's been my job around here."
Holly's smile grew. "I think we're going to get along just fine, Harriet."
Harriet smiled now, then her worry set back in. "I still don't know what to do with Finn's memories… and now Sirius has been hurt…"
Holly grimaced. "Yes, I heard about that… now Mom's on a case and her contacts are on other assignments…" Holly sighed. "Ironically, I think Finn's working in his own favour right now… if neither the Order nor my parents' contacts could find him by now…"
"But he might be hurt," Harriet said.
Holly gave a soft laugh. "I don't know if anyone's told you this, but Finn can take a serious beating…"
"So I saw…" Harriet said.
Holly narrowed her eyes.
"I… sorry I don't know what I'm saying. I don't think I've had a full night's sleep since I came to Hogwarts."
"I see," Holly said, though she sounded suspicious. "Well, Finn used to get into a lot of fights when we were younger. He was never that good at it, but he could take a lot of hits and get back up again. Mostly he just wore everyone down."
Holly smiled reminiscently. "It didn't help that he was protective of his hands and face. He never wanted to hurt his hands or jaw so he couldn't sing or play."
Harriet remembered the memory of Finn in the fight. He had seemed reluctant to land actual punches, and the only blows he dodged were the ones to his face.
Harriet nodded. "I've wanted to ask about him… but never had the chance, really…"
Holly raised her eyebrows. "Not even with Fern this summer?"
Harriet shook her head. "Was never really a good time, and I think it was still too painful for both of us…"
Holly sighed. "I guess I can see that…" Holly rubbed her cheek, thinking. "Back on track, we need a game plan for finding out what Umbridge is up to."
Harriet was jerked back to reality. Or maybe she'd been about to fall asleep at the table.
"Not that I don't want to tell you about Finn," Holly said. "I just would rather he told you, himself," she smiled.
Harriet smiled back. "I think I'd like that more, too."
"Though I suppose you'd be best asking Portia," Holly mused. "She knows him the best of any of us."
Harriet grimaced. She'd thought of that. She rarely saw Portia, even at meals. She'd almost had the chance to see Portia while at Mrs Figg's, but was attacked before Portia could visit.
"I'll ask Portia if she's willing to talk," Holly said. "She's… really bitter right now. This was supposed to be her final year at Rathlin and now without somewhere to really practice, her career prospects are looking bleak… She has no means of finding places to audition… it's a nightmare."
"So, she's probably not all lovey with the ministry then, either?" Harriet asked.
"I can't tell," Holly sighed. "I'm trying to give her space… the last time I pushed someone too hard, it sort of blew up in my face…"
"Yeah, Fern's definitely still mad about that…"
Holly rolled her eyes. "Fern… she's fragile. And stubborn… really stubborn."
"She likes adventure at least," Harriet said.
Holly gave a sad smile. "Yes, we'd go on them all the time. Nothing like what you've done, here… but important things, all the same."
Harriet smiled more. She felt like she was starting to get a second wind. Which was important, as that afternoon she had Defence Against the Dark Arts again, and Captain Kane's lessons were a bit more strenuous than his predecessors'.
She at least had the start of a plan. That was most important. She had allies. Maybe she couldn't help Finn directly at the moment, but she could help his friends, and maybe, just maybe, she could help them solve whatever happened at Rathlin.
Harriet was distracted on the way back to Gryffindor Tower. She was beginning to worry about Finn. Should she leave him at home? She liked having him with her.
Something moved in the corner of her eye. She recognised it at once as a portrait. Normally she had come to ignore them, but for some reason her attention was stolen at once.
It was a portrait of a long staircase. Someone was descending, moving towards her. It was a tall figure in flowing purple robes and a pointed hat glittering with stars. He had flowing white hair and a beard that was tucked into his belt. Half-moon spectacles were perched precariously on his crooked nose.
"Professor Dumbledore!" Harriet exclaimed.
"Almost," the portrait smiled. "An admirable facsimile, no doubt, but facsimile all the same."
Harriet couldn't help beaming.
"What's happening? What's the Order up to? What's the Ministry doing here at Hogwarts!"
The portrait of Professor Dumbledore gave Harriet a sad smile. "Alas, I cannot say. Order meetings do not take place in the headmistress' chambers."
Harriet's mood deflated slightly.
"However, I have been sent to speak to you by Professor McGonagall," the portrait said.
"Really?" Harriet asked. "Why didn't she just come to me herself?"
"Because Hogwarts is indeed being watched by the Ministry, as is everyone in the Order. Professor McGonagall does not wish to give the Ministry any more reason to suspect you of anything than they already do."
"Fair, I suppose…" Harriet muttered, shaking her head. "You left so abruptly, when were you made?"
"My inspiration left quickly," the portrait corrected. "All headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts have their portraits made when they assume the office. This way we portraits can learn from our true forms, how to properly imitate and think as our inspirations do."
"I see…" Harriet furrowed her brow.
"We portraits are the barest of shadows of our original forms," the portrait continued to explain.
"Then how did the portrait of William Shakespeare down in Avalon know so much about his real form?" Harriet asked.
"Likely he was coached and taught," portrait Dumbledore said sadly. "As we all are."
Harriet felt as though she were deflating. This wasn't nearly as uplifting a discussion as she'd hoped.
"Professor McGonagall has an urgent message for you," portrait Dumbledore said.
"What is it?" Harriet asked.
"Do not trust Dolores Umbridge," portrait Dumbledore said, looking at Harriet seriously over his half-moon spectacles. Even in portrait form, Dumbledore's eyes were piercing, making Harriet feel x-rayed.
"Nor trust Professor Weasley. When you are in Dolores Umbridge's office, accept nothing she gives you. Be polite, be cordial. Give her no reason to suspect you. You are but a mere student trying to live your life. Is that understood?"
Harriet felt even more put off. It was strange hearing Professor Dumbledore speaking that way. The voice was Dumbledore's, but the words were Professor McGonagall's.
"Understood," Harriet replied.
"Excellent," portrait Dumbledore smiled again, serenely.
Harriet stared back at the portrait, her mind still whirling with questions.
"Do you know how the Pensieve works?" Harriet blurted out.
The portrait form before her raised his eyebrows. "As a matter of fact, I did overhear."
"How?" Harriet asked, stepping closer. "The real you said that memories can't just be put back in… that the mind isn't a puzzle."
"It is not," portrait Dumbledore confirmed. "Such memories are not true memories. They are snapshots of the memories. Glimpses into the past. They contain the details we ourselves were not conscious of at the time; even the details we were not paying direct attention to. They contain the details that were picked up by our senses, hearing, sight, et cetera, that we tuned out."
Portrait Dumbledore began pacing. "In an event such as Obliviation, the memories are erased from the mind. New memories are then formed, replacing them. This is why erased memories cannot be replaced by copies of them if too much time has passed. That is also why those who have been Obliviated are so susceptible to post-Obliviatory suggestion; being able to plant false memories. The mind, not remembering the true events, cannot tell the difference between true and implanted memories, and accepts the new information as though it had always been there."
Harriet furrowed her brow. "That makes sense, too…" something else occurred to her. "Holly Cambridge said she thinks someone's messing with the memories of the former Rathlin students."
"Professor McGonagall is also suspicious of this. Bear in mind that methods of memory modification are not limited to Obliviation. Hence her dire warning to you not to accept anything, particularly no drinks, that Dolores Umbridge offers you."
"She thinks it's Umbridge?"
"She is the most likely suspect, yes," portrait Dumbledore confirmed. "But be careful. Dolores Umbridge is cleverer than she seems. She will try and get you on her side and will be willing to give you any bait in order to do so."
"Why me?" Harriet asked.
Portrait Dumbledore smiled. "You are Harriet Potter… you are a symbol of hope. Who else could turn one of Lord Voldemort's most devoted followers, or cause the real Albus Dumbledore to abandon his beloved school and home to correct his most dire mistake?"
Harriet stared. Portrait Dumbledore sighed sadly and turned, striding out of the frame.
"No!" Harriet said, running up to the frame, as though she could peer into it after him.
"Professor Dumbledore?!" Harriet shouted. "Come back! What's the real you doing? Professor Dumbledore!"